Sometimes I get up in the morning and read a bunch of shit on Huffington and Drudge that really steams my clams.  I’m sure you all remember the gay couple harassed for sharing a chaste kiss in the Plaza near the Mormon temple in Utah.  Well.  My clams have been good and steamed about that one for a while.

HOWEVER.

Anger isn’t the answer.  As much as I want to tear that temple down, stone by stone (or buy it and host gay orgies there ALL the time) I know that it’s their right to exist as they are what grants me *my* right to exist as *I* am.  That’s part of being an American.  If I take issue and rail and brawl against their expressions of ideology, then why can’t they, against mine?

The difference here is that gay people aren’t running around telling anyone else how to live their lives.  We don’t think that being straight is wrong or dirty or evil.  I mean, a clever gay man is thankful for heterosexuals, because without them, in eighteen years we would have no one to gaze after wistfully remembering our lost youth.  Jesus, I’m only twenty-six.

The Mormon church in particular has struggled with its image for years.  From polygamy to refusing the priesthood to African Americans, to those tacky short sleeved dress shirts and name tags.  No wonder they don’t want gays in there.  We’d style all the elders up too fiercely.  And what’s with calling a kid fresh out of high school an elder?  That’s another reason there’s no gays.  Call me your elder ONE time and I’ll slap the shit out of you.

How is it possible to reconcile all of these conflicting feelings, though?  Part of me wants to put on a suit and tie and have a thoughtful, considerate dialogue.  The other more sensible part of me knows that I don’t need or want the Mormon church to rejoice over my lifestyle and choices (and NON-choices, thank you very much).  I just want them to mind their own fucking business.  So this part of me naturally wants to jump up and down screaming in an incoherent rage.  That won’t get anything done, either.

So what do we do?  Anyone?  WHAT DO WE DO??

We vote?  Seriously?  We VOTE?!  Isn’t that a wonderful example of the sheer asininity of this society?  Are we all so worried about the so-called sanctity of marriage that the sanctity of our Constitution pales in comparison?

Tyranny of the majority, people.  Our founding fathers didn’t want that kind of crapola going on, and here it is, alive and well, more than two hundred years later.

Just because most of the nation thinks that gay marriage is creepsville doesn’t make it wrong.  I have a SUPER idea. Let’s put interracial marriage up to a vote.  Seriously.  I want to.  I would vote for it, but I wonder how many states would be champing at the bit for an opportunity to get rid of it.  You know who you are, red states.  Come out, come out, wherever you are.

For SHAME, Mormons.  For SHAME.

*points finger.*

I realize that a lot of my posts have to do with etiquette and manners in general.  I think that in today’s world, we have so many social situations that didn’t exist when basic rules of behavior were laid down that many people don’t know how to behave sometimes.

That being said, it’s clear that someone needs to take the reins here and start telling people what to do.  Obviously that person has to be, you know, significantly better at being social than most people one meets.

Hi!

I think it’s time to make the title make sense, or at least relate to this post at all.

Facebook is awesome.  I love it.  I love being able to keep in touch with my friends, I love finding people I haven’t talked to in forever, I love looking at photos of myself.  All fun.

You know what’s not fun?  Reading people’s status updates about TV shows that, for those of us on the West Coast, have yet to air.

I know how excited you all get about True Blood and Weeds, and Nurse Jackie, and awards shows and… I dunno, what else do people watch, Survivor?  Is that still on?  I watch Designing Women, The Golden Girls, Sex and the City, and Absolutely Fabulous pretty much exclusively.  New TV tends not to interest me (except for Weeds and Nurse Jackie).

And that’s awesome.  But when you talk about that super awesome plot twist, or how douchey someone was, you pretty much ruin it for everyone who hasn’t seen the show yet that wants to.

I mean, it’s just three hours.  Slow your roll.

Shut the fuck up.

Here’s the thing, pigeons.  Once we reach a certain age, “I’m sorry,” just doesn’t cut it.  It’s not like when we were eight and spilled grape juice on Auntie Mildred’s hideous Escada evening gown at your cousin Sheila’s wedding that Millie has been planning since her first ultrasound.  When that happens, you just look up at Aunt Mildred with your big puppy dog eyes and say you’re sorry and all is well.

The real world doesn’t work like that.  Sure, “I’m sorry” works for a few things; when you bump into someone in line, when you take someone’s drink at Starbucks by mistake, and sure, even when you spill grape juice (though hopefully at this age it’s either wine or hard liquor) on Aunt Mildred’s Escada evening gown (the same gown she’s been wearing since Sheila’s godforsaken wedding to that bastard Bernard, a marriage which ended before the gown went out of style, which it now has) provided you offer to pay for the dry-cleaning this time.

Here’s an example of an “I’m sorry” that doesn’t work:  “I’m sorry for anything I might have done to make you mad at me.”  Let’s explore why that “I’m sorry” is complete and total bullshit.

Start from the very beginning, a very good place to start.  “I’m sorry.”  This is a very strong, assertive beginning.  It takes responsibility for your transgressions and seeks to make amends.  This is very honorable.

Now, the rest, here’s where it gets hairy. “For anything I might have done to make you mad at me.”  Do you know what this says?  This says, gee, I dunno if your anger over what I did is justified, or even if I actually even did whatever it is you’re mad at me for.  At least, I don’t remember it. Sorry, poop-face; you can’t apologize for something and then allow for the possibility that you didn’t even do the something you’re apologizing for to begin with in the same sentence.  The language actually suggests that you don’t even know what I might be mad about, too.  I find it insulting to be spoken to in such a manner.  Just because you haven’t got the sense God gave a goose doesn’t mean I don’t either.

For the record, this is the situation.

This apology, this half-assed, ridiculous, useless waste of bandwidth of an apology (is bandwidth even a word people use anymore?) was delivered to me, two years late, from a fellow I never particularly cared for to begin with.  This apology was supposed to be enough to make up for him flirting with and then putting his hands all over my then boyfriend, at a bar, directly in front of my face.  Afterward, he added him on Myspace (see how long ago this happened?  Myspace!  And NOW he is apologizing?!) and started to go on and on about how cute he thought my boyfriend was.  To my boyfriend, obviously.  Not to me.  Didn’t try to add me on Myspace.  Just my (then) boyfriend.

Call me crazy (and lots of people do) but I just think that’s a basic lack of respect.  It’s one thing if you don’t know the guy’s got a boyfriend (and that’s happened to me; at which point I remove my hands, take a step back, and apologize profusely to the boyfriend of the guy I was talking to and explain that I hadn’t realized they were together, and all is well.  In point of fact, one time, a couple ended up dancing with me later and made certain lewd propositions I decline to repeat here, which I refused… Not that that was my goal, nor is it the usual outcome.) but COMPLETELY another when you know.  And have known.

In addition, I was informed in this apology eMail that he would be moving back to L.A. and “spending a lot of time” with my best friend.  That sort of rubs me the wrong way.  I mean, it almost sounds like a threat.  You’d better get along with me because I’m gonna be spending a lot of time with your best friend!

Who in the fuck do you think you are?

I’m not gonna be nice to you just because you’re friends with my roommate.  That’s stupid.  If my friend invites you to my house, well, I’ll just chill in my room ‘til you’re gone.  I don’t want to make a scene.  I just don’t want to look at you.

We’re all grown-ups now.  There’s a couple schools of thought, one being that now we’re adults, we should be able to put things aside and all get along for the sake of the larger group having a good time.  The other, my personal favorite, is that we’re all individuals, and we can all act whatever way we want, provided it’s legal.  There’s no law that says we have to like each other, and if someone pisses you off, you’re allowed to make it clear to them until such time as they can make it better.

If they can’t make it better, you can tell them that, too.  Every time they try, just tell them it’s not gonna happen.  If, like me, you have a little evil quirky twist to you, and I think you do, whether you choose to admit it or not, you even get a little kick out of telling them just how impossible it would be for them to become your friend.

Some people like to forgive and forget.  I definitely believe in that, too, for some things.  I might have even gotten over it if I’d heard from this douche shortly after he was such a dick and he apologized for his dicky-douchiness; like say, two weeks later.  Not two years.  Two YEARS?  What’s the fucking statute of limitations on apologizing for remarkable gay bar offenses?

It certainly isn’t unlimited.  I’m going to use weddings as an example; wedding gifts must be delivered to the new couple within a year of their nuptials.  Thusly, an apology must be delivered to the offended party at least within a year of the douchebaggery.  And I think that is excessively generous.  In fact it might be too generous.  I might still be mad at you if you wait a year to apologize.  But I guess I’ll have to forgive you if you have the foresight to show me this blog entry when you’re apologizing.  So bookmark it or something.

Okay, so, in conclusion: don’t be a douche.  If you slip and ARE a douche, say you’re sorry.  And don’t wait a year.  And CERTAINLY don’t wait two.

I know even straight men can understand that.

(Idina Menzel [left] as Elphaba in Broadway’s “Wicked”)

Why hire a woman like Idina Menzel, a Broadway star, to act and that’s it?  I think we can all agree that acting on stage and acting on film are two different things, and I think we can all agree that hiring someone with talent like Idina’s and then not taking advantage of it is criminal.

CRIMINAL!

Super cute movie, though.