Onehelluvayear

Today at work my coworkers and I were discussing the approaching new year. After the discussion, I thought about 2009. HOLY SHIT. It's been a crazy one.

Just cause I want to say it all in one breath, all these things happened this year so far:

Icameoutoftheclosetgotajobgotmyfirstapartmentwenttosan-franciscodatedsomeboyslayedbythepoolhadanartshowand-soldtwopiecesdatedsomemoreboyslostmyjobwas-unemployedsoldmyleasemovedinwithrachelgotdepressed-gotajobinutahmovedgotnotdepressedgotanotherapartment-datedsomemoreboysdecoratedmyapartmentwaspoorbut-

happywenttolasvegasandsawu2omgbestbandevermetsome-richpeoplewhowerereallyniceandpartiedlikeoneshould-doinlasvegasinventedadeliciouscocktailstartedworkingout-andjusthadtoshoweveryonemybicepsandomgsoglad2009-isalmostoveritwasgoodbutreallycrazyomgomgomg.

I know what you're thinking... You're thinking, wow, Nick, that's a lot of things to say in one breath!" My response to you is, "OMG, you're not the one who had to say it."

But seriously, the year 2009 has been the craziest, most unbelievable year for me. And in case you didn't read that part above, here's a recap for you. And trust me, there will be no shortage of acronyms here. OMG, WHY WOULD I EVER DO THAT.

Remember when I spent the first half of the year in Idaho Effing Falls, Effing Idaho? Remember how I came out of the closet while living in Idaho Falls, Idaho? You don't remember? Well, I did, OK? And I'm going to throw away the piece of humble pie that you all want me to eat and say DAMN COMING OUT IS A BITCH and OMG I'M HELLA PROUD OF MYSELF.

But life wasn't all bad. Loved my job, my coworkers, made some faboo friends, got to see my old friends all the time, endured hopefully my last Idaho winter, dated every gay boy in Idaho Falls, I'm pretty sure. Grew up a lot, too. Oh and don't forget about Karaoke and the Unitarians. I love me the UUs.

My stint in Idaho Falls ended when I lost my job, was ineligible for unemployment then moved in with Rachel, her husband and her two kids for six weeks or so. My friend Kristina (OMG bless her soul forever and ever) told me that her company was hiring. After three trips to utah in a week and a half, I had a job and an apartment and a new life ahead of me.

I met some people through my friend Lessie here in SLC and we became fast friends. THX BE TO THEM for being the best ever and inviting me to everything and letting me be a part of their group. And I love my job and my coworkers. They're nice and we exercise together. So I've started eating right and getting buff. And sexy. And stuff. I had a gut, but now I don't. And life just flows along. And I'm happy. OMG am I happy. 2009, you were a bitch, for sure. I won't forget you anytime soon.

Love,

Nick

Ode to my bestie.

I've tried to write this post a thousand and one times. And every time, it doesn't measure up. Still, this one doesn't. But here goes anyway...

During Summer 2007, after another failed attempt at a relationship with a girl, I decided to tell my best friend Rachel that I was gay. I arranged one of our common walks to the Woodville Cemetery. "I'm gay," I said.

"I know." She held my arm as I squinted toward the sun and began to cry.

We continued walking, sat down in the tall grass by the canal bank and talked. This began the dialogue that would last nearly a year. We discussed my desire to stay in the Mormon church, to have an "eternal family." To avoid the "gay lifestyle."

Here's the thing about Rachel. She knew more about what it meant to be gay than I did at the time. She had always been attuned to things of the gays. She was well read on the subject, and even frequented several gay Mormon blogs.

I asked her, "Do you think I'll be able to marry a woman?" She was frank, and told me that it would be difficult to find a woman who would be willing to do so. And that the chances of such a marriage working out would be very slim. She led me to a lot of literature on the subject.

I soon latched onto several blogs, and found a vast, interconnected web of blogs that helped me understand that I certainly was not alone. My struggle was much more common than I had thought. I would spend hours and hours reading posts and emailing many to Rachel saying, "THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL!"

I've had several therapists in my life. Rachel is the best one by far. You see, we had a tradition. I would get sad, call her, then we'd bake together. Sometimes we'd talk about what was making me sad, sometimes we wouldn't. We'd bake, or walk to the cemetery, and I'd always feel better afterward.

Rachel was there as stagnated, as I grew, and as (a year after I came out to her) I fell in love for the first time. She giggled with me as I talked about how BF and I cuddled. Her eyes sparkled when I told her about the freedom I finally felt. And she made me homemade lemonade when it all ended.

Later, she was on standby when I came out to my parents. As soon as I could, I drove my car to her house, and I cried as she held me. When the tears stopped, she gave me a glass of water and leftovers. She didn't say much, she was just there. Just like she always was. She was there when I needed her.

Now, Rachel tries to keep track of the boys I'm dating. She usually remembers their names. And she asks about them. This means so much to me. Now she lives in Idaho and I live in Utah. But we talk on the phone, and when we do the conversation is sometimes lively, sometimes serious. But always she's there for me. And I hope I'm there for her, too.

Rachel is my truest friend. She is singular for me. I'll never be able to describe what she did and does for me. I'd not be here without her.

Acorn squash.

Today I cooked acorn squash for the first time. I roasted it with a little butter, brown sugar and kosher salt. The skin turned such a beautiful black I couldn't resist photographing it.