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So, yesterday was a bad day. No let me revise… yesterday was an extremely emotional and gutwrenching day for me. And to think I almost stayed home…

I woke up yesterday around 8am and turned on the water. Put on some old school Destiny’s Child and had a little dance break in the shower. Put on a towel and had a smoke on the front porch. Got dressed and was ready for my trip to San Francisco.

I recently ran out of my favorite lube, Gun Oil. Unfortunately, you can only buy it at select Adult Stores. I decided early in the morning to go to the Clinic and get my tests done. I’m already going to be right around the corner, why not? And figuring that the wait would be longer than at the Sex store… I went to the Clinic first.

I can still remember the first time I had gone to City Clinic. I had attended Folsom Street Faire with my friend Chris. Since we were drunk (I was 19 at the time) we thought it would be hilarious to go get tested in the streets. Bad idea. They give you a cup, a qtip and PortaPottie. You pee in the cup obviously… in the PortaPottie. The qtip… you are supposed to give yourself a rectal swab with it. I actually injured myself with it… Don’t ask. Anyway we laughed it off and were like, “No worries here!”

The next day a man from City Clinic called me and informed me that I had an STD… not just one in fact, I had two. I was devastated. Chris has one as well… he wasnt nearly as surprised. I felt disgusting. Angry at the man that gave them to me. I’m only 19… this shouldn’t be happening to me. They told us it would take one week to get our results… it only took one day.

So we went to the Clinic that week to get treated. I dressed as if I were going to a funeral…in all black with waterproof mascara. I felt like everyone could see it… I’m dirty and they all know it. I was having panic attacks every few minutes… waiting on the edge of my plastic blue chair… waiting for them to call my Number. I clutched it so hard that the ink rubbed off on to my hand. Again, Chris was not nearly as upset.

The people at the clinic were amazing. They could tell I was upset, could tell that this was the first time that I had ever had something. They gave me my medicine… a hug… and we left.

Everytime I have gone back to the clinic, I have the same thought… I’m dirty. Only now, I put my number in my pocket so I don’t get black ink on my hands. I bring a book. My iPod. A friend usually.

But yesterday, it was only me. Fortunately, Mondays aren’t a busy day. The woman who took my information was nice. Turns out she lives in Antioch as well, so we had a long discussion about our recent discoveries at the Flea Market. Sweet.

I didn’t have to wait very long. I explained that this was just my routine screening. So here we go. Pee in the cup. Qtip in the butt. We are going to give you the rapid HIV test so you will know the results in 20 minutes,okay? Okay, thank you. One finger prick, 3 vials of blood. Back to the waiting room.

I have stupid veins apparently. I always end up looking like a drug addict from all the marks that the nurses leave. Except for Patricia. She always gets it on the first try, and luckily for me… she was there. She makes me laugh. And I was surprised that she remembered me. We talked about work. Talked about how the guy who brought me was hot. His name was Mac… but apparently, everyone calls him Daddy. Can I call him Daddy? She laughed.

I go have a cigarette. Why do I have menthols? I don’t even like Menthols. I call Heather. God I hope I have Syphillis. No you don’t. No, I totally do! Shut up. I love you. Love you too. I go back in.

Number 44.

Mac shows me into the room and closes the door.

You’re test came back Positive.

The silence that followed that sentence was deafening. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I’m dirty. Mac just looked at me until he felt I was ready to hear more. I don’t think I was really listening. How am I going to tell Mom? I couldn’t breathe. Mac asked me about medical benefits, my doctor, who can I talk to. Talk to? Everyone… but not sure how. He told me that my whiteblood cell count was extremely high… apparently it has been here for a while.

I’m dirty.

He asked if I would like for him to contact my sexual partners. No, I think I should tell them myself. He didn’t think that was wise, afraid that they would get angry and harm me. Okay Daddy. He called his Doctor and set up an appointment for me to get on medication right away. You don’t have to do that. Why are you being so nice to me? Because I want to.

Mac has been positive for almost 24 years. He shared his story with me. Joked about his career in porn back then. Talked about our favorite bars. He made me stop thinking. He actually had me laughing a little.

Can I go smoke please?

My hands couldnt stop shaking. I got fed up with my lighter and threw it into the street. Damn, I loved that lighter. It shattered. How appropriate. Heather. I need to call Heather. Called once, no answer. Keep trying. Call again… And she knew immediately that something was wrong. Heather… um… I got my results back and… I’m positive. Without any hesitation, she wanted to know where I was and when she could steal me away. Liz was there also. She told me she loved me. God, thank you for sending these people to me. I really needed to hear that.

Mac came outside to check on me. He told me that he has set everything up for me. Everything will be okay. I hugged him so hard before I left. To think, the man I lusted after when I walked in the door… turned out to be an Angel in disguise.

I walked through the streets of San Francisco in a complete daze. I remember hearing horns blaring at me and not caring. I must have looked ridiculous. Homicidal, even. I must get to Heather. She will know what to do. I board the BART train and find my seat. I notice little things that never seemed important before. People with shoelaces that didnt match. Remnants of tagging on the walls. People staring at me… Can they see it? A man flirting with me on the train. Stay away. I’m not okay.

And as I see Heather and Liz driving up in their car, I begin to cry. It was the first time. They each got out of the car and ran to me. I’m so sorry for ruining your day… I didn’t know who else to call. They put me in the car. We were going home. There would be food and drinking. Lot’s of drinking. And Daniel. I love my roommate. And the Pirate… and it was her birthday. I ruined it.

That night I was a mess. Randomly breaking down. Crying everytime someone touched me. I drank. I broke my own rule and smoked some pot. At one point someone brought me water… I poured it over my head. I was a complete wreck. I couldnt sleep.

My biggest fear has always been to tell my Mom that i was positive. And now, I had to.

(This all took place on Monday August 25th 2008. It took me several days to finally complete this blog.)

Insane.

One.

Years ago when I first became involved with the fight for people living with HIV/AIDS, a good friend looked at me and said, “Jimmy, you’re only one person.” I would spend my time volunteering at fundraisers, passing out condoms and literature, sending money to people living in Africa. The thought that this horrible epidemic was something bigger than me… never crossed my mind. And now, everytime I gear up to start fundraising or speak out, I stop and think to myself,

Jimmy, you are only one person… but atleast try.

Growing up my Mom always told me, “As long as you try Jimmy, even if you fail… I will be proud of you.” There really is no reason that any of these things should ever stop me from trying… from fighting for people that are not able to fight for themselves. And now, I sense that I am back in the battefield. And army of one.

This November, Prop 8 goes on the ballot. “The Marriage Amendment” or “Gay Marriage Ban” is a huge issue for people on both sides. Millions of dollars are being donated to both sides in the hopes of raising awareness… of winning the fight. And I want to help. And I know that in this battle… I won’t be alone.

Sometimes all it takes is one person to stand up and make their voices heard. one person to stand up and show their face… make it personal.

I think back to all of the people that risked everything all in the name of what they knew to be just and right.

On December 1st, 1955 in Montgomery, Alabama Rose Parks refused to obey bus driver James Blake’s order that she give up her seat to make room for a white passenger. Her action was not the first of its kind: Irene Morgan in 1946, and Sarah Louise Keys, in 1955, had won rulings before the Supreme Court and the Interstate Commerce Commision respectively in the area of interstate bus travel. But unlike these previous individual actions of Civil Disobedience, Parks’ action sparked the Montgomery Bus Boycott. It must not have been easy. The hate and ridicule that was ever present in Alabama…yet, one woman made a stand. A stand that changed the world. One woman. One.

Even tho he was one of the countries most outspoken opponents of the expansion of Slavery in the United States, Abraham Lincoln was voted the 16th President of the United States. He led the United States through the Civil War, leading the North to victory. He introduced measures that resulted in the abortion of slavery with the Emancipation Proclamation and the 16th Amendment to the United States Constitution in 1865. That same year, Abraham Lincoln was murdered. Although he was in office less than 5 years, he made his mark. One man. One.

After escaping years in captivity, Hariet Tubman made 17 missions to rescue slaves from the South through the Underground railroad. As Union Spy, Humanitarian and African American Abolitionist. The first woman to lead an armed expedition in the war, she guided the raid on the Combahee River, which liberated more than seven hundred slaves. She worked as a nurse and cook during the civil war… at a time when people of color were still being treated horribly, even tho the war was to liberate them. She stood up and accepted the challenge. One woman… with limited rights. One.

In 1998, a woman got a phone call from the Wyoming Police informing her that her 21 year old son had been tied to a fence and beaten. Judy Shepard immediately went to his side at the Hospital… gave the world hourly updates on his health… became a symbol to the Gay community. At his funeral she walked past the crowd of protesters shouting obscenities and held her head high. Over coming this horrible tragedy, she continued to found the Matthew Shepard Foundation. One woman whose world was torn apart… rose up and made herself heard. One woman… grieving for the loss of her son. One.

And lastly. In November, You will make a stand. You will make your voice heard. You will vote No on Prop 8…

Someday when you think back to what you have done in your life, don’t you want to be able to say that you stood up for something important? You can be Rosa… Abe… Hariet… even the strongest of them all, Judy. And maybe someday, I will be able to write about you….

Knock knock…

“There is no separation of church and state. Modern U.S. Supreme Courts have raped the Constitution and raped the Christian faith and raped the churches by misinterpreting what the Founders had in mind in the First Amendment to the Constitution.” -Jerry Falwell

Today I woke up in an amazing mood. I got up and fed my cat, did a few dishes and started making my favorite breakfast. I showered and shaved, brushed my teeth, flatironed my hair… and was ready for any amazing morning with Mom and Sheila at the Flea market. It had all the signs of an amazing Saturday.

Knock knock.

I figured it was Mom. Instead of calling me to come out to the car, she wanted to come in and chat for a bit before Sheila got here. So I go running to answer the door with a smile.

It wasn’t Mom. Instead, there was a friendly looking older woman sitting there with voter registration cards and a heavy looking stack of literature. She didn’t look like a Jehovahs Witness or Morman Missionary, so I had no reason to start off cold.

“Good Morning Sir”
Yes, good morning. How can I help you?
“I was wondering if you are planning on voting this November?”
Of course! I always do.
“Have you heard of Proposition 8?”

At this point I start thinking, What on earth?

Why no (I was lying)… would you mind refreshing my memory?
“Well Prop 8 is on the ballot in November. It is meant to protect marriage.”
From what?
“Well, if you vote yes it will protect the sanctity of marriage. By voting yes, it will create a constitutional ammendment that will ban Gay Marriage.”

I can already feel myself growing upset, my cheeks are getting hot… my neck is itching. And she continues to say, “If this law does not pass, it will open the doors for Polygamy and Childmolesters and…”

I finally had enough.

I can assure Mam, that I will be voting NO on Prop 8. This is in fact, a gay household. Get the FUCK off of my property!

She stuttered and nearly dropped her stack of paperwork. I was glowing with rage. What nerve?

“Well thank you for your time sir.” And she went to shake my hand. I looked down at it. Glared. Shut the door.

I was shaking from head to toe. People like this in my neighborhood? I had never thought once that there would be people walking door to door asking people to limit my freedom. To limit the freedom that recently brought so much joy to two of my favorite people in the whole world.

When my mother eventually did arrive, I ran out to the car and got in. She looked at me with a scared look in her eyes and asked, “Honey, what’s wrong?” I told her the story. Immediately, her response was, “Where is the little bitch?” (God, I love my mother.) We had a discussion about what might happen if the law is passed, immediately thinking of Heather and Liz. I don’t want to see their happiness be dashed away by people like this… they deserve so much more.

And then she walked passed the car. Mom asked, “Is that her?” Yes Mom, it’s her. She got out of her car and yelled, “Hey Lady! I’m voting NO ON PROP 8 TOO!”

Her response, “Well God Bless You.”

After a long time bashing her from her bad hair to her cheap shoes… I felt a little better. Still couldn’t shake the scared feeling from my heart. Where can I find “No on Prop 8″ posters? Who do I talk to? What can I do to help?

I walked through the Flea Market in a trance, still thinking of what I can do to help. Found a couple pieces of junk to cheer myself up… Laughed at ugly mexican children… pet the bunnies that people were selling. Okay, back to normal.

And now I’m home. I glanced at the coffee table to find wedding pictures from the wedding. Heather and Liz look so beautiful and happy… happier than I had ever seen two people. I think of the early morning jitters everyone had… the rush to get in the shuttle… the unfortunate and brief romance I had with Dylan… and drunken Daryl asking me to get naked for him. Wow, what a wedding. The wedding of the Century.

Even after all these years in activism and strife, I still cannot think of any reason for people to hate the gay community so much. Even since I came out 10 years ago, I have seen major improvements. However this one final fight has yet to be won. Everyday I feel we have little victories… small glimpses of hope. Hell, Jerry Falwell is dead… that’s gotta count for something! Thank you Jesus for taking him off of our hands.

I hope and pray with all of my heart that I will see the State of California make the right decision in November. There is no reason to take this is away from people like Heather and Liz… Thomas and Darrell (together 21 years)… Me and (name to be filled out later).

Young girls spend their entire lives planning for their wedding day. Young gays do that same. How is it any different. I wish that each of you could have been there on July 19th in that shady spot near the stream where Heather and Liz officially became Mrs. and Mrs. Outlaw. I dare one person who saw them crying those tears of joy to try and take that away. I dare you…

“Children lose their youth too soon
Watching war made us immune
And I’ve got all the world to lose
But I just want to hold on to the

Easy silence that you make for me
It’s okay when there’s nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me”

-Lyrics from “Easy Silence” by the Dixie Chicks
Heather and Liz Outlaw’s Wedding March
July 19th, 2008

We have a long way to go… for now, we have to prepare. There’s a whole lotta ugly coming at us from every angle. But there’s nothing a little hope and prayer can’t fix. I hope.

Finding my way Home…

Better get under cover, Sylvester. There’s a storm blowin’ up, a whopper. Just speakin’ the vernacular of the peasantry. Poor little kid, I hope she gets home all right.  – Professor Marvel, Wizard of Oz

Without warning, life took a random turn that wasn’t planned or expected. After four years doing something that I love, I was possibly terminated. I was put on paid leave of absence, or as I like to call it “Paid Vacation”. I am slowly losing my mind. My character has been challenged and my reputation is in turmoil. As I sit at home driving myself crazy, I wait everyday by my phone hoping for the call that will let me come back to work.

I have spent 4 years as a Makeup Artist for MAC Cosmetics. I took people under my wing, raised their spirits by raising their self esteem, helped people living with HIV and AIDS, taught several of the best artists in San Francisco and the East Bay… but all that is behind me now. At this point I have stated my case and eagerly await the results of their investigation. When I am exhonorated, then I will worry about the people that told the lies about me.

“All right, I’ll go in there for Dorothy. Wicked Witch or no Wicked Witch, guards or no guards, I’ll tear them apart. I may not come out alive, but I’m going in there. There’s only one thing I want you fellows to do.” -Cowardly Lion
“What’s that?” – Tinman & Scarecrow
“Talk me out of it.” -Cowardly Lion

It almost makes me wonder, is it worth going back? After these lies and stories have been spread around people that once respected me… can one ever go back? It would take a long time to undo the damage that has been done to my reputation. For the sake of integrity, I want to fight. But because I am so non-confrontational, it would be so much easier for me to find another job. With my portfolio and extensive resume, it wouldnt take me long. But if I leave with unresolved accusations, I have no doubt they would only get worse.

This is the first time in over 6 years that I have been without work… and you’d think I would be enjoying the free time, but I’m slowly going in sane. Im drinking more, smoking more, having sex with random strangers way more… not a healthy way to pass my new found free time. My thoughts wander. My imagination runs away with me. Yet, my attention span is much smaller than the norm.

I suppose, worrying never made anything better. Im innocent and have paid my dues to the company, clients and community. It will be impossible for them to find someone more dedicated and passionate than me… for goodness sake I have Viva Glam lipsticks tattooed on my chest and my favorite brushes tattooed all over my arm.

As I sit hear in the yard watching the sunset on this beautiful day, the wind blowing across my chest and through my hair… I look forward to what the future has in store. I can spend a lifetime asking the heavens why something like this could happen to me. I can waste my life trying to figure out how people could think so little of a person they have known for 4 years. But why bother? There are so many possibilities for me. I’m young and from what I’m told, quite talented. All I have to do is look inside myself and the answers are all there. Hey… there is a reason my blog is entitled “Kansas is Within”…

“There’s no place like home… there’s no place like home…” -Dorothy Gale