Thursday, August 7, 2014


It seemed like every time I ever sat in the orthodontist's chair in the early 80s (not exactly the place a middle schooler wants to be as her braces get tightened to the max) Foreigner always played on the radio piped in over the office stereo speakers.

Despite all that, I love them. Foreigner's greatest hits offer lots: the irresistibly kinetic onslaught of "Urgent," the better than it should be "Cold As Ice" (it's kind of dispassionate for a song about someone accused of being dispassionate), the hazy longing found in "Waiting for a Girl Like You" (aren't we all?) and the truly glorious and moving sounds of "I Want to Know What Love is" (I won't even joke about this one, it's too sacred.)

 
According to Wikipedia:
 
The song has received positive retrospective reviews from critics, with Bret Adams of AllMusic writing: "It's not hard to see why it became Foreigner's first #1 single. Its dreamy, hypnotic feel is due in part to Lou Gramm's soulful lead vocals and the New Jersey Mass Choir's background vocals."[1]
 
 The vulnerability of the lyrics (just as moving to me now as they were when I was in high school in 1984) and the beauty of the choir just really, really (really) get to me...every time. Plus, of course, there's Lou Gramm's voice.
 
The New Jersey Mass Choir has recorded their own version, which isn't quite as no-holds-barred as Foreigner's but is still quite lovely with that chorus:
 


Wednesday, August 6, 2014


Below is an excellent, if somewhat controversial, op-ed piece from the Advocate's website that really speaks to me. You don't see commentaries like this often...some of the negative, even sometimes nasty, online responses regarding the column (to me) show a complete lack of understanding about what the author is trying to say...one major point being that gay people are about so so much more than sex.

A person could go her entire life without ever having been intimate in that one way with someone else and yet still be capable of loving with her heart and soul. Even if the stigma still associated with the physical aspects of being gay were taken away today, some people might remain celibate.

Going without sex in one's life can be about more than guilt...there are a host of other reasons, including never having found that one special person or just choosing to be so because it's what feels right for you.



http://www.advocate.com/commentary/2014/08/05/op-ed-defense-celibate-gay-Christians :


While there are still some conservative communities that encourage so-called reparative therapy, most religious spaces have come to the understanding that sexuality is an innate part of identity, and that attempting to change it is harmful. This shift in thinking has helped many religious lesbian, gay, and bisexual people recognize that their desires are natural, not sinful. But many still believe in celibacy.

Some lead a life of celibacy because they still believe same-sex sex is a sin, while others choose it for their religious journey. But due to their celibacy, they don’t usually have the opportunity to share their stories in LGBT-affirming platforms.

Last month Instinct magazine ran a piece on a celibate gay Christian named Grady Smith. Initially, I was pleased to see an LGBT magazine giving a celibate gay Christian the platform to share. But what was meant to be a space to share his story quickly became a massacre.

You wouldn’t think that someone’s sex life would be so important to a group of strangers (unless they were right-wing, homophobic pundits) but apparently it was of dire importance to Instinct's readers. Hundreds of comments from gay men were posted, mostly crucifying Smith for not being sexually active.

Smith shared his religious conviction that God does not approve of same-sex sex and so he has chosen a life of celibacy. He doesn’t call himself “ex-gay” and, at least from the first few posts, doesn’t promote reparative therapy. His story isn't the only one like it and raises an important question: Is there space for celibate gay Christians in the LGBT community?

The oppression LGBT people face, political or otherwise, stems from religious beliefs that condemn same-sex sex. Many queer individuals were indoctrinated by their religious communities to believe that their sexual intimacy is sinful. As we get older, large numbers of us leave this idea, if not religion, completely behind. Because of this history, LGBT people have advocated for each person’s sexual agency and autonomy — many times, at a direct conflict with religion. But if Smith’s story is any indicator, there is a limit to that advocacy.

We advocate for inclusiveness with a “come as you are” slogan, but I feel there has always been fine print on the terms and conditions.

While sex is a part of someone’s sexuality, we are not, and should not be, minimized to sex. It’s an important part of intimacy and it’s our right to love who we love — but we are not sex acts. Our sex lives or lack thereof shouldn’t be up for scrutiny by homophobic Christians or gay men. It seems one group of people will only affirm you if you’re not having sex and the other will only affirm you if you are.

To be clear, there should be a distinction between forced celibacy and chosen celibacy. An informed adult who chooses celibacy should theoretically pose no threat. Regardless of whether they choose celibacy because they believe same-sex sex is a sin or if it’s part of their religious journey, celibacy is a personal decision that, quite literally, doesn’t involve anyone else.

We shouldn’t allow for a single narrative to represent our entire community. It is hard feeling represented when you’re a minority and even more so when you are marginalized within that minority group. Celibate gay individuals are still gay, they’re still attracted to people of the same sex, and they’re still facing discrimination for who they are. Sexually active or not, they are queer — so shouldn’t they feel safe and included in the LGBT community?

Forcing beliefs on another person, especially beliefs related to something as intimate as sex, crosses boundaries. It’s harmful, especially when specifically geared toward youth. But silencing celibate stories isn’t the solution. We should allow for people to come to their own educated conclusion.

The only healthy lifestyle is the one that is freely chosen. It's one that makes a person happy, healthy, and thriving. If that is one of celibacy, then so be it. Their decision doesn’t affect you nor yours them. If we demand that homophobic Christians stay out of our bedrooms, we best do the same when faced with a celibate gay story like Smith's. If any community affirms celibate stories, it should be the one that espouses equality and inclusiveness.

Straight people are celibate for religious reasons in all different religious denominations. A gay celibate Christian is no different. The LGBT community should not be afraid of these stories, nor attempt to silence or shame them. If someone's story threatens your stance or belief system, your stance wasn’t that strong to begin with.

ELIEL CRUZ is a bisexual Christian covering bisexuality for The Advocate. Eliel also frequently writes on the topics of sexuality, religion, pop culture, and media at The Huffington Post, Believe Out Loud, and Mic. You can follow Eliel on Twitter

Sunday, August 3, 2014



The last two love stories I read were so especially bad (romance novels, no matter who they are for, that are all sex and no love, are nothing but disappointing) I decided to reread an old favorite (Blessed Twice) I knew would be very pleasant and dependable.

Lynn Galli (thankfully!) is one of the best in her field, heck, one of the best writers, period! Discovering her books is one of my favorite things about this past year, as has realizing Kindle is probably one of the best ways to access lesfic in a world where libraries and bookstores don't give you much to pick from (if they even carry it in the first place.)

Blessed Twice is amazing, even better than Wasted Hearts and Imagining Reality.

The only pet peeve I have is the same that Briony has until she falls in love and everything changes for her: why is it that people (friends, relatives, society) put a time stamp on how long you should grieve for the love of your life?

Briony, like many people who lose their beloved partner or spouse, has needed more time to mend her broken heart than society thinks is normal.

Having come at this book with the corny, maybe even unrealistic, view that there is one true love per person per life, I had trouble (at first) with the concept of Blessed Twice. But Lynn Galli's wonderful characters and her ability to tell a really good story made me forget everything else.

As a main character, Briony is more developed and fleshed out than she is in Imagining Reality. And M is a very unique lady who is painfully shy and socially awkward, yet has so much to give when it comes to love.

I cannot say enough good things about Blessed Twice. Even the title speaks to the fact that finding new love doesn't negate your first love.

We should all be so lucky to find the kind of love that is Lynn Galli's fictional world.

Friday, August 1, 2014

I have loved teddy bears since I was a child. It's not at all abnormal to collect and love them as a kid, I know, but is it okay to have a huge collection of these adorably stuffed creatures as an adult?

Teddy bears, especially when coupled together (now I know I sound kooky), make me think of love...a safe kind of love, the kind of love someone who has no experience with can build up in her mind.

Having completely lived on my own for almost eighteen years, I usually am more alone than lonely. I gave up on love a while back, not out of cynicism (to be cynical would almost be a luxury when a huge part of you is still an unrealistically hopeless romantic) but out of practicality. Personal history has shown it's just not in the cards for me and I'm okay with that.

They say unrequited love is just a way of holding off the real thing, that people like me (relationship-challenged, secretly shy, totally out of sync with how romantic and physical love work) fall into it as a way of avoiding a chance with someone who might actually like us back.

I don't buy that. Sure, it might come across as easier to like someone from afar and enjoy those interior dancing butterflies and the little moments of joy that come from seeing your crush walk into a room. But there's also a lot of pain (the guilt...the futility of it...the knowledge your feelings for them might actually make them dislike you upon discovery.) Unrequited love (or crushes or whatever you want to call it) sucks...plain and simple. I hate the word "suck," but it's the only word I can think of right now.

It'd be much nicer and less hard on the heart to find someone with whom to be in a mutually loving relationship...that would be happier, more free and flowing. Yes, of course, relationships can be hard work. But the idea of having someone to come home to...to cook for...to share quiet nights on the couch watching old movies with or to go to the park or just be (just be as in the simplest sense of the word, peacefully and comfortably)...that sounds wonderful, not something to avoid or for which to find a substitute.

And, if they also happen to be great at being emotionally available for hugs and some kind words after you wake up from a nightmare, that would be nice too...'cause turning talk radio on in the middle of the night just to hear another human, well that gets kind of old after awhile.

...just some rambling thoughts on a cloudy Friday afternoon. :)

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Fidgety at 3 a.m. with that weird "I have a million books all around me, but I don't know what to read next," I remembered an article I had read about underrated (and sometimes easily dismissed) authors of the 50s and 60s so I downloaded a book by one of those mentioned: Theodora Keogh.

The granddaughter of Theodore Roosevelt, she focused on rather unconventional and provocative (to the say the least) topics for her era and was sometimes even thrown in with the "ilk" of pulp fiction writers. Even so, I'm finding The Mistress to be far less sensationalistic and much more in tune with human emotions, even if they are sometimes detached ones.

The writing is sincere and surprisingly fresh even if somehow at the same time a sign of its times. Some of the passages already 'speak' to me:

-What's the difference when it's over now? she begged silently and insistently of some listener within. Because it's over, however it was—and does not too much worship break the shrine? 

-She enjoyed, however, really enjoyed listening to classical music on the radio. One is safer with music.

This profile in The Paris Review is intriguing and dispels some of the exaggerations about events in her life. Since I find myself now wanting to know more about Theodora Keogh I just had to read:

       http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2011/08/22/the-late-great-theodora-keogh/
 

As someone who is far more fascinated with people's voices than their looks I loved this passage, especially, though the rest of it's darn good, too:

It was Theodora’s amour propre that kept us from meeting face to face. She said she felt “diminished” physically, but “herself” on the telephone. In her early eighties when we started speaking, Theodora could have passed a voice audition for a worldly thirty-eight-year-old. Her voice was an emollient—smooth, chaleureuse, empathetic, and buffered by an elegant American diction which has been almost lost in the present day.