(Originally Published on The Huffington Post – 1/17/2012)

In keeping with the theme of love, family, and relationship from my last post, I reached out to some famous friends to see what their thoughts were on the subject.

Singer/songwriter Matt Alber, filmmaker and photographer Bruce LaBruce, actor and musician Daniela Sea (from Showtime‘s The L Word), TV personality and activist Danny Roberts (from MTV‘s Real World: New Orleans), drag superstar and electrosleeze pioneer Jackie Beat, composer and singer Holcombe Waller, and “Charlie” Swimwear designer Matthew Zink all weighed in on the same five questions:

1. If you could sum up your concept of “relationships” in one word, what would it be?

2. What is your favorite love song of all time?

3. If you could choose any actor to play you in the movie version of your life, who would it be? What about them is you?

4. How has the relationship between your mother and father influenced your ideas about love and relationships?

5. What three qualities do you look for in a partner?

Here come their answers! (Drum roll please…) Read the rest of this entry »

(Originally Published on The Huffington Post – 1/10/2012)

I spent my 20s in complete solitude. Even when I was in relationship or around friends, I was impossible to reach and might as well have been by myself. It was a decade spent mostly alone, and I think there were many times when I felt like this was just how life was going to play out. I watched as my little brother married his high-school sweetheart, and in the 10 years since, I’ve had the great pleasure of holding their babies as they joined us in the world. Loving these beautiful creatures has in many ways made my own as-of-yet-unrealized dream of building a family an easier pill to swallow — but I have always hoped that some great love would make its way to me, as well.

In October 2010, after spending the better part of two years in single-man lockdown mode recovering from a long-winded, ugly breakup, I went to celebrate my 31st birthday with my dear friend at a local Portland patisserie. We sat and chatted about life for a while, and then I noticed this man walk through the door and sit at a table just to the right of the dessert counter. He was wearing a tight, white, v-neck t-shirt, and I found myself unable to stop staring at him. It may have been his big arms, his dark chest hair, his thick-framed Dita glasses, his pretty face — I’m not sure — but something clicked in that moment.

At one point my friend stepped out to take a call, and I took that as my cue to undress him with my mind and get down to fantasy business. (I’m not a sex maniac, but I had sworn off men and had been celibate for over a year, and my fantasy life had become both really involved and easily accessible during that time). So I imagined us getting freaky on the dessert counter until my friend’s return jolted me back to my sad, clothed, birthday reality. From across the room, I kept hearing my pretend boyfriend laughing this enormous, joyful, shameless laugh with his friend, and I tried not to stare. As we were leaving, I pointed out my exotic find to my friend and said, “I gotta get me one like that,” which, in retrospect, is a bit crass and actually isn’t all that romantic-sounding, but I figure the story’s no good if I don’t just tell it like it happened, and that’s how it happened. It may not have been poetry, but it came from a very real place.

Over the next two months I thought about this mystery man a lot, which was not a common thing for me to do when it came to random people from coffee shops whom I had never spoken to. Often, the thoughts were naked ones, but sometimes they were not. At times I was awake when he was there; other times he would appear in my dreams. What had happened to me there amongst the candy and cakes? I couldn’t figure out if I had been possessed or if I was just really horny from swearing off sex. Maybe I just needed to get manhandled on a dessert counter somewhere. Either way, I hoped I would run into him again and promised myself that I would speak to him if I did.

One afternoon in early December I looked up from my desk at Portland’s Q Center, and there he was, standing in the door of my office Read the rest of this entry »

Hope everybody is having a great new year so far. We are just 2 days in and I am already announcing exciting stuff! I was recently asked to come on board as a blogger for The Huffington Post and they published my 1st piece today in the Gay Voices section HERE. It’s called “Unhappiness Is A Strange Muse“. Please comment, share and click the “Like” button…and you can subscribe to my future posts on my official HuffPost author page HERE.

Cray Cray, huh?

I was chatting with an older woman who works in my building today for the first time and she said “I hope this comes out the right way but I overheard you say that you needed someone else to set up the bar for the party because you are a recovering alcoholic and I just wanted you to know how happy I was to hear you taking care of yourself like that. You see, my daughter had the same problem but she was never able to get well. I lost her last February. I know how very hard it is and I think it is so great what you are doing.” I smiled and said, “I am so sorry to hear about your daughter. It’s a very difficult journey to be on. So hard on everyone involved.” She replied “Yes…but it was hardest on her.”

We talked for a little while about how now she is raising her granddaughter as her own and how maybe we are all just doing our best, even when we are at our worst (a concept which has come up in conversation lately with a few different people and that I find incredibly hard to wrap my head around at times). At one point her eyes welled up and she said “Hearing you stand up for yourself and your life in that moment made me love my daughter in a way I have not been able to since she died. Thank you for giving that back to me.” She started crying big tears, which made me start crying big tears…then we hugged the hug that only people who have been through the same war hug, an embrace I have felt before with my own hurt, scared mother around this stuff.

In that moment I imagined myself to be her daughter, years later, happy and well, hugging away the pain of watching someone you love struggle through the horrors of addiction. I felt like saying “It’s OK, mom. It’s over now.” as I have done with my mother on several occasions since finally getting well in 2007…but those words mean something so different for her than they do for my mom. For this sweet woman and her daughter, it really is over. All of it. No more memories, no more birthdays or holidays spent together. She is just gone, taken from this world by a glass of something.

I am so thankful that my mother does not have to cry on the shoulder of some other survivor to feel close to her dead child and I am grateful to have real love in my life where there used to be an empty space I filled with cocaine and vodka. I know how lucky that makes me and not a day goes by that I don’t wonder why I get to be one of the lucky ones. These days are cosmic gifts, extra moments bestowed upon me and my family by some unexpected twist of fate. I am 4 years into the bonus round and I try to make every minute count. I get to be here to kiss my boyfriend, play with my dog, watch my nieces grow up, help the community I care so deeply about, and enjoy all these beautiful years I almost didn’t get to have with you all.

Be well, friends. Live the life you are meant to live. Hug your mothers. Find something lovable about yourself and LOVE IT fearlessly. Then, share that love with the world…because the world needs you. If you are struggling with addiction, please tell someone. There are lots of different ways to get lots of different kinds of help and there has never been a better time to get your shit together than RIGHT NOW.

I wish you the happiest of all holidays, everybody.

xo
Logan