I'm fucking miserable.

We've said "I love you" so many times. We've said "goodbye" so many times.
Each time expecting it's the last. Hoping it isn't. Hoping it is.
I keep coming, not for your benefit, not for mine. Maybe for us both.
I've accepted that you're gone for so long, that now that it's almost true I'm having trouble accepting it.
I don't want you to be gone, but I want you to go easily.
Today was the hardest. Seeing it's not easy for you. Your hardship is hard for all of us.
I want for you the serenity you're supposed to have in the brochures.
I'm not ok. You're not ok.
Please be ok.

I keep forgetting to write shit here.

Things are more than awesome. I'm finally free of the worst person I've ever shared breathing space with. I'm terrified for the folks he's running with now, since I was warned before moving in with him that it would be the mistake of my lifetime. It was. I'm now going to listen to people when they warn me about someone. Not every situation in life is a craigslist scam, but people who've suffered before are authorities on these things.
I'm told the people he's rallying around him now have already been warned, but are of the opinion that "he didn't do those things to me so they don't count." That was the same attitude I approached the situation with, and I ended up hosed. I really hope he learned from living with me that abusing relationships was a bad idea, but I have very obvious doubts. Since living with him, I've heard from all the other people he's stolen from. It makes me really sad. I wish there was something I could have done other than leave that situation, but talking to him about it didn't work.

Today's piece of advice: When your friends tell you you're making a huge mistake, trust that they're helping you learn from their mistake. Take a huge step back and analyze the situation, but don't discount someone who's been there.

A great way to be a shitty parent.

Read this, if you haven't already: http://www.cnn.com/2011/US/06/07/sissy.boy.experiment/index.html

If it's too much to read, the synopsis is that these parents put their effeminate 5 year old son through "therapy" to "cure" him.

At 38, he took his own life.

I have had so many reactions to this that I can barely sit still. In fact, I'm 4 sentences in, as you can see, and I've already paced around my apartment several times, returning to the computer to try and make sense of it all.

First, I'm over the moon with joy that my parents didn't (and hopefully had they had the chance wouldn't have) put me through such a bizarre attempt at conditioning.

Next, I'm seeing the very obvious end to the "nature vs nurture" argument about homosexuality. This kid obviously didn't decide he was gay, or have effeminate tendencies, they were just there. The problem with nature vs nurture, is that they shouldn't be at opposition, they should be cooperative. As a parent, you are to nurture whatever it is you created via nature.

Then I'm angry for more reasons than I've counted or organized in my head.

The mom, who volunteered her kid for this based on some ad on TV, shouldn't have been a parent. If you think your kid is damaged because he'd rather wear a wig than play with a pretend razor, you are the problem; not your kid. To allow a system of reward vs violence based on that criteria makes you a sadist. Enrolling your other "normal" children in the system to make the "sick" child feel the reward vs violence system is ok, is abuse. The father who routinely beat his kids every Friday for years after the "therapy" concluded is just as culpable.

The long term trauma suffered by this child extended to spending his youth feeling ostracized, frightened and alone. He spent 3 years in high school eating lunch on the toilet to avoid interaction. His siblings have also been hurt by this, recalling that their brother lied to the researchers because he was "conditioned to say what they wanted to hear." After being beaten constantly when being myself, I'd do my damnedest to be someone else too.

The parents of this kid wanted to raise a "normal" well-adjusted child. They believed that this "treatment" would be to the benefit of all. I'd like to think that if they thought the "therapy" would cause the eventual suicide of their kid, that they'd not have gone through with it. They now blame the researcher that conducted the study/therapy for the death of their son.

The researcher in this case, went on to a successful 30+ years of being a champion of "fixing gay" and lobbying against LGBT rights based on his research, lending his scientific credibility to religious lobby groups and founding the Family Research Council (a faith-based lobby group).

So many people I know are parents. I hope all of you read this. Wake up. If your kid is displaying behaviour that you don't agree with, think about what they're doing: Are they hurting anyone? Are they trying to understand the world? Are they learning from what they're doing? Are they being self destructive? Ask yourself why you disagree with their behaviour. Why are you bothered that your daughter is playing with trucks or into playing hockey? Why are you bothered that your son has created a planet full of unicorns or rocks out to Shania in your heels? Ask yourself if you're projecting your own conditioning onto your kid. Your job as a parent is to raise a good person. Teach your kids right from wrong. Teach them to do right by people. Be there for them when they fuck up. Make them understand that doing the right thing is the most important thing, even when it sucks. Your job isn't to hold your kids to ideals, or force them down a specific path, or to ensure they marry the person of your choosing.

Never forget that when you're raising a kid, that while you want nothing but the best for them, you need to respect what they want. You are raising a person. While they may look like tiny versions of you, they're in fact individuals with their own needs and desires. You can learn from them as much as you'll teach them. Be ok with what your kid wants, and be happy when they live the life you made for them.

My boyfriend is better than yours

This week has been fucking weird.

I started my third-ever film related job. This is awesome because I'm working on something that I LOVE and I'm being paid for it. I'm the guy doing the online campaign for Cell 213 - A psychological thriller by Stephen Kay that was made in Canada. I'll write a review about it for another post because it's wicked. This post isn't about that. This post is about a series of ex-boyfriend hauntings.

The first is completely retarded, slash hilarious - to me. We are Cougar Town watchers. I won't apologize for that because it's fucking hilarious. My guy even surprised me with a giant wine glass when I was having an awful rotten day. Just as its counterpart in Cougar Town, we named it. Get used to Big Diesel. I know nobody reads this, but if anyone happens to, and I reference Big Diesel, now you know why. If you're a Cougar Town watcher, you've seen them in Hawaii and met Big Kimo. (my ex from a few years ago is named Kimo.) He and I don't even talk anymore, but it was weird, because who the fuck has that name? Seriously. This is not a decision parents make lightly. Anywhore, I saw that on the show, and laughed it off as a funny coincidence. Life outside my head has also been happening.

I've been working my ass off. That's my way, and it's amazing to be working again, especially for something that I like with people that are great. The public part of my campaign was supposed to be finished early today (and I learned before I left the team at the hotel that it's not), so I made my way home way later than expected.

On my way home I was to drop off some stuff to this awesome restaurant we ate at yesterday called Fuzion. Halfway there I run into a former flame with his fella and a friend of his. They insist I have a beer with them - totally fine since we've maintained a friendship since I angry-dumped him. It took some time, but we're great friends now. Anyone who thinks they can't be friends with an ex is a dick. Kinda. There are obviously situations that don't allow it, but I was only seeing this dude for like 2 months. I'm glad I managed to become his friend because we'd never have worked as a couple, but we have tons of laughs together. His new fella is awesome, which is great, and he gets along with my awesome fella too. It would be a double win, but I get better sex and a more awesome guy who doesn't do stupid shit like start fights in the street. His fella also regales me with stories about me, and about how he's heard I'm the coolest guy his dude has ever dated. I've hung out with them a couple times now, and we get along great. I know a gazillion people who are cooler than me, so I feel a smidge bad for them, but not really because they're super happy and I am too.

I left those guys and dropped off the stuff to the restaurant. Nothing special happened, but I think the owner's assistant is going to keep the poster to himself. Not at all why I brought it, but it's not my place to question it. I joined the guys I'd just ran into for a drink, and laughed about a girl wearing her sunglasses outside. It's night time, obviously. My random singing of "sunglasses at night" becomes a crappyoke moment, to the dismay of the other patrons. We finish our drinks and I left.

On my way home I walk by a piano bar. I see the fella I dated before the guy mentioned earlier, so I decide to stop in for a hello and am stuck waiting til closing time to say hi. I ordinarily wouldn't wait, because I'm not a very patient person. I decide to wait because we've been yapping about getting together for a visit for some time so he could meet my guy and I could hang out with the dogs he has. I sat down with his new fella who is super nice and tells me he's heard all about me. For the second time in a night I'm told that I'm the fave ex-boyfriend. I'm not particularly ego-centric, but like every man, I have an ego.

Now I'm told twice in 1 night that I'm the best ex-boyfriend someone's had. While it's nice to be thought of fondly, and quoted (my many weird sayings are apparently common speech to them) I can't help but be terrified that the awesomely perfect guy I'm with now is just collecting anecdotes about why I was fun to date. My logical brain knows this to not be the case, because I'm with the exact right guy for me, and from what he tells me I'm that guy for him too. Tonight's random ex boyfriend hauntings totally slapped my neurotic side in the face though. Now that I'm writing it (talking it out to myself) I think that seeing them happy with people just makes me really glad for them, and remember that they're just people, and it makes me feel like it's ok to be their friends because there's no way things will get awkward. Seeing myself write/think that makes me feel like I think way more of myself than I should like they should all be alone, or way less, like I require their approval even though I left them for whatever incompatibility I saw. Either way, they're people I still care about and seeing them happy makes me happy. Happiness is so infectious!

Mayhaps I need to see a therapist. Mayhaps this is just the avenue I need to talk myself through all my nonsense. Either way, I'm SO Lucky/Thrilled/ to be with a guy who understands me, supports my life choices, isn't afraid of my friends, doesn't put up with my nonsense, sends me love notes, takes my call for no reason while he's working, and isn't afraid to love me despite all of the horrible things he's dealt with in the past. Despite the myriad ways I've been (not literally) shit on, I've bounced back with most of myself intact. I'm excited to be with him, I'm excited to prove myself worthy of him, I'm excited to come home to him (we've just moved into our first home) and I'm excited to make a life and family with him. I've got someone who keeps me excited about every day. That's the reason for the title of this post. I know too many people who aren't excited about what's next. I don't mean to be mean.. I'm just sayin. I really hope everyone gets to be as full of love as I am.

New gig!

Oops! I've been so busy with life going all wiggy that I've not updated.

The short version - I've moved out of my pretty apartment because it was infested with ninjas that liked to make my things disappear. Then I got work doing an online campaign for a film! I'm pretty damned excited. New digs in a couple days. Everything's comin up Milhouse!

FeFF11 is a wrap.

This season of FeFF was by far one of the greatest experiences I've had. I've never worked with more interesting, insightful and creative people. To be part of a festival that truly celebrates the hard work of women in a field that is still by all accounts an old boys club was truly inspiring. To hear that these amazing works of art were created by so many people who volunteered their time and resources on belief in the end result alone is amazing. I'm thrilled to have met so many wonderful people, both participants and festival staff most of which were also volunteers!

I had a talk with Leslie Ann Coles at one point while running between the hotel and the theatre and she told me of the festival's beginnings. Screenings attended by only a couple of people after a level of personal investment and sweat equity that would have disarmed so many others. To see attendance figures at record highs with some houses that were so full that festival staff couldn't even stay in them just means the world. The sense of community that was present at the festival was described as unmatched by any other film community out there. All of the people supporting each others work, sharing their insights and points of view made this time very special. To be able to work behind something that you have a strong personal belief in is better than any job out there.

I want to thank everyone that was involved as a participant, specifically those of you that I had a chance to meet or hear talk on a panel sharing your stories on the state of the industry and personal struggles. I was particularly wowed by Anne Tait and Carol Whiteman. I feel very lucky to have met them both and heard their takes on the industry.

Another huge thanks to everyone who went to the Cayle Chernin tribute. I never had the good fortune to meet her, but the memorial put together was truly moving.

I also want to thank the amazing women that I worked with! Diane, Ally, Leslie, Ellen, Cara - you all are amazing. The countless hours and emails and phone calls and driving all over the place, all while looking like a zillion dollars. Be very proud. I definitely can't wait to work with all of you again.

oh em gee.

I do NOT envy celebs. Twitter is overwhelming for them. Rightfully so.