I was just starting to get over him, Scotty. It had been a month since he ripped my heart out and poked it with a stick. He just didn't love me the way I loved him. Scotty said, "It's not fair to you." What a load of steaming monkey shit. He just wanted to go party with younger boys. Now I'm left with the after math of his inability to commit or be truthful.

I had to return the V-day gift I bought him Just before his birthday, Dec. 31st. A rose dipped in gold. Not an over the top gift, but from the heart. The girl at the jewelry store felt so bad. She remembered how hard it was for me to get the damn thing in the first place. Plus, come on, I'm a blogger. I don't have any money, yet. I had to called Mike, an old chef buddy, to cancel the "special" reservations at his overly booked restaurant. "Well, you can still come. Maybe we could get something going on in the kitchen." Nice idea, I'd like to slinging high dollar hash again. But not right now. Not on that day.

I'd finally stopped crying over the dumbest crap. I was like a women just starting menopause. The smallest thing would set me off. I'd either ball like a bitch or throw something in a rage. Have you ever cried at an insurance commercial? Well, I have. Every song on the radio, and my MP3 player, reminded me of him. How much I loved him. How happy we seemed together. He really hurt me. Yeah there is a softer side to the big BadEvan. Ok, maybe I'm not done crying yet.

Anyway, after splitting, telling friends and family, taking down the pictures, making the depressing mixed-tape I was there. Almost healed. Rational thoughts were taking over. Through this I can focus more on my work, my book, and maybe find a better MAN. Not a boy. Then from the depths of dark irony...he emailed me.

What made this so...."Damn it!" Was that he decide to send this message on V-day. Yep, Valentines day. This prick chooses to reach out to me on the day for lover's swoon. What could he want? In the back of my mind I wanted it to be me. Telling me how sorry he was. That he still can't sleep without me. That his heart ached over what he had done. Nope! None of the above. He wanted the last of his stuff back. BASTARD!!!

He also wanted to know how I was doing. If I was feeling alright? How the surgery went? (Yeah, he dumped me exactly one week before my first of 2 surgeries, for Crohn's disease.) I replied: "You emailed me TODAY, of all days, for your shit back? What are you thinking? Thanks prick! Do you really care how I'm doing? Or are you afraid I'll fuck up your crap? You don't get to ask how I'm doing. You made it clear that you have no interest in my well being." He didn't understand what the big deal was. I'm not surprised.

After a couple of gut wrenching phone calls, we agreed on a time for the exchange. I didn't sleep for the next 52 hours. My mind was racing. Panicked over what to say. Would I lose it and cry in front of him? Worse, would I beg him to come back? No! I'm a brash asshole. I wont fold. I wont give him that power over me. At least that's what I told my self.

When the time came, and he was there in my house, we said nothing. I wanted so badly to grab him, kiss him, tell him how he was hurting me. I didn't. We loaded his car without even looking each other in the eye. I stood in the drive pretending to just be smoking. I was watching him drive away. This time would be the last.

It was a deep cutting situation. But I've licked my wounds and now I'm really starting to recover. I'm closing this chapter of the book. While I'm saying "Good-Bye" to Scotty, I haven't ruled out love. There will be a time and place when the heavens will grant me an angel. Just not right now. I'm not rushing or even looking for another. I was single for 4 yrs before Scotty. I'm glad it wasn't 5. The clock stats over.

BadEvan's Broken-Hearted Playlist:

For more go to BadEvan.com!!!

On October 11th, National Coming Out Day will be observed by members of the GLBT community. This is the day that we share our experiences, both positive and negative, in hopes that our GLBT peers will find the courage to step out of the closet.

Coming out to friends and family, if they couldn't figure it out on their own, can be a roller coaster of emotions. Fear of rejection, hate, disgust, banishment and even violence have kept many in a life of lies and self loathing. How can you have pride in your self when you can't be your self?

Paula the Surf Mom, had this to say:
I've been told in the past that some folks think its cool that I am gay, but that I should keep that information to myself, mostly because it makes them uncomfortable. I've also heard that they think we gays make too much of the coming out process, again mostly because us being out pushes their comfort envelope. It is my feeling that staying in the closet is a very unhealthy state of affairs, that is will destroy ones self-esteem and the very act of staying in the closet reinforces other more prejudice views about gays and lesbians.

Some people have very excepting friends and family. They've been "outed" with open arms and understanding. Most of the people I've spoken with say that their friends and/or family said they had known for ever and that they were glad that they had trusted and loved them enough to tell them. While many others have had not so tender moments.

Way back in high school, almost a decade now, I was the token fag. I was Proud Loud and in the school's face. Demanding private groups/clubs and fair treatment. So it's no surprise that a few of my peers came out to me. Mostly seeking help and guidance or expressing fear of their families reaction. I would always say "it's better to be hated for who you are than loved for being a fruad."

Sometimes though, that's not the case. One peer, will call him John, wanted to be open and out but lived with the fear of his minister father. They ran a radio sermon that preached the evils of fags and lezzies. Being a college town there are plenty of both. I was even a target of their bile, for being the token fag of a school district with over 10,000 students.

They preached violence and retribution for the sodomites. "Until we have purged our communities of these rampant sodomites, homosexuals, lesbians and pedophiles, we will never receive the glory of God." How could you come out when that statement is broadcast by your own parents?

Well, John never got the chance to come out to his parents. They shipped him off to one those "Gay Conversion" wilderness camps. I won't go into detail about that place, suffice it to say it's like a torture camp. After completing the program he returned home and confirmed to his family that he was straight. He even pretended to date a girl.

John ended up tramping around looking for acceptance and love. The things he couldn't get from his family. He spent most of high school in fear that some one would out him and he'd be kicked out of the home or beaten by his father.

We talked often about being better off with out them and how he didn't need their approval. But we do need it! It's our family, and at that age going through all the things the world will through at you, you need the support.

He has since parted ways with his family. He has excepted who he his and has discovered a new family that loves and supports him. But has taken many years and endless emotional hurdles.

By sharing this I hope that others will find the courage to stand and say "Love me or leave me, I'm Gay".

To hear more about GLBT issues, news, gossip, more visit BadEvan's Gay Blog!

Hey all....

I need help picking the logo for my new blog. Please leave a comment for the one you think is the best color choice.

Thanks


Green



Violet



Red

This is how I feel today. This world is making me crazy
And I've taken all I can bear. But who do I call?
 
True Colors

You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Though I realise
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness there inside you
Make you feel so small

But I see your true colors
Shinin' through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow.

Show me a smile then,
Don't be unhappy, can't remember
When I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You can call me up
Because you know I'll be there

And I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors,
Your true colors,
Are beautiful,
Like a rainbow

Whispered: Can't remember when I last saw you laugh

If this world makes you crazy
You've taken all you can bear
You call me up 
Because you know I'll be there

And I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors, true colors
True colors are shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow

An American Werewolf in London
Little Boy: A naked American man stole my balloons."

Better Off Dead
Monique Junot: So you won't tell anyone?
Lane Myer: What, that you're a Dodgers fan?

Beverly Hills Cop
Axel Foley: Tell Victor that Ramon - -the fella he met about a week ago? - -tell him that Ramon went to the clinic today, and I found out that I have, um, herpes simplex 10, and I think Victor should go check himself out with his physician to make sure everything is fine before things start falling off on the man.

  Born on the Fourth of July
Mrs. Kovic: Don't say penis in this house!
Ron Kovic: Penis! Penis! Big fucking erect penis, ma!

The Breakfast Club
Andrew: We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all

Tips to making it: For caiTland cold[heart]

So you wanna be a famous chef?
Everyone knowing your name and style?
Maybe your own show?
You want people flocking to your eatery like a pilgrimage to Mecca? It can be done, but it takes dedication, a will stronger than 440 steel, flare for the dramatic, thick skin (literal and actual), and talent for days.

Some things to know:
 
What school, if any, you went to means crap! Some of the worst chefs I've had the displeasure or working with, JC, went to the CIA (the top US school). School teaches you the techniques, vocab, and artistry that is cooking. They don't teach you production (working the line on a busy night), timing (prepping and expediting multiple tickets), budgeting (food costing is the killer of any restaurant), or working in a team as the leader. 
 
All these things you learn through years of working in kitchens. Having a great chef show you the ropes. Take you under their wing. Reading every book put out by the stars, plus the bibles of cooking. Like the Sauce Bible: Guide to the Saucier's Craft. Find out what books your school of choice requires, then get them and read 'em on your own. Take some local workshop classes to get to know new styles or to try new regions.
 
Nothing makes up for experience. Start looking for the meanest toughest chef you can find. Then ask him/her, probably a him the girls are nicer, for a job on the line. Tell him you want to learn to be the best from one of the best. Remember he's an ass who will yell, cuss, and probably throw things. I do. But it's not personal. Their name and rep is on the line. When you screw up that costs money. Budgets are tight, so yea we get a little mad. If you know that upfront you'll make less mistakes and wont feel so bad when you get verbally bashed.
 
Side note: I yell and scream so you wont make that mistake again. God help you if you do though.
 
When working with chef absorb everything. Watch and listen to every little thing. Catch the details. Se how he moves his hands, where are his feet. Long days and nights standing, and mixing wrong will kill you. How does he tell if something is done. We are creatures of habit and consistency. Every past bowl must taste and look like the last. So we use the exact same steps each time. In less something bad happens and it's gotta be done on the fly, short cut. Learning those short cuts can really help, too. But remember they're only to be used in a crisis.
 
Ask questions of the chef, just not when it's busy. Find out why this way and not that way. We love talking about shit like that. Hello! I'm writing this for you! Just don't kiss ass. Be honest in your thirst for knowledge and skill.
 
Don't work for one chef for more than 2 years. Longer than that and you become him. You will have a difficult time shaking his habits and methods when you move to the next chef. Timing will be difficult to match with your new boss. Rhythm is very important at this point (more on this later). You move around so you can learn those different styles and techniques, building the base for your own signature. Most chefs expect that you wont stick around for ever. Unless you just don't have what it takes to step out on your own.  But they will offer you a lot to stay, once you've got their rhythm and  idiosyncrasies down pat. Don't do it! You'll never get famous being some one else bitch.

Well that's it for today.