The Gaymer

Last week I went with my roommates to Six Flags: Great Adventure. I screamed for the fun of it on every coast, especially Skull Mountain since that shit was ultra lame. Picture not being able to  picture a small pitch dark indoor roller coaster and at the very end there’s a scary pumpkin. I’m not sure if this ride was trying to communicate something… but maybe I’m reading too much into the pumpkin.

Anyway after riding Kingda Ka (the fastest and tallest roller coaster in the world) I could tell my voice wasn’t feeling the same, I went along assuming I was just losing it from screaming. However this was not the case, This was the beginning of my addiction to Mucinex D. Throughout the week my slight itch turned into a bronchial cough. My co-worker noticing that I was under the weather suggested my new addiction. He innocently tried giving me something my body needed. Which has taken a 90 degree turn for the worse just like Kingda Ka. It become something my body wants. Now I catch myself counting down the 12 hours, the 720 minutes, the 43,200 seconds until the next two pills.

Sometimes I take them early. I hope to God this isn’t my Lindsay Lohan downfall.

I don’t want a $15 over the counter medicine to be the end of me.

This was an article I wrote for the Student Paper in 2009. One of my favorite things I brought to Messiah College as a Gay “Christian.” The other was running for Mr. Messiah which I’ll write about soon.

Published in the Swinging Bridge Messiah College April 16th

On April 3, Messiah held its annual Spring Fling dance, an event where hundreds of Messiah students take over the Whitaker Center in downtown Harrisburg. Secular students may find it hard to imagine such an event being sponsored by Christians. There was no community prayer to start off the night, no church offerings held or animal sacrifices made. Instead, Jesus Freaks danced the night away. It was simple Christian fellowship at its best. Sober gay men would have even found it hard not to have fun.

This year’s dance could easily be summed up as an overall success, meaning there were no incidents involving alcohol or drug abuse. SAB Dance Executive Kierstin Wunder commented on the behind-the-scenes work of organizing a Christian dance at Messiah, saying, “Dances are a difficult event to put on. Our culture has transformed dancing into an extremely sexual form of entertainment. We need to be careful about the kind of environment we produce on a Messiah College dance floor.”

The student body created a safe and fun environment for everyone that evening. Conservative and liberal students shared the same dance floor and both resisted the temptation to drop it like it was hot. SAB met its goal and provided Messiah students “with a venue to enjoy God’s gift of rhythm and movement,” as stated on their website.

Both dance floors felt cramped at times, and throughout the night the room temperatures increased – due to friction. Some articles of clothing were naturally ditched alongside the dance floor with several pairs of high heels. Some students had the option to subtract layers while still remaining appropriately dressed, while others were stuck with what little they already had on. Some could even claim that Jesus died on the cross wearing more than many siblings in Christ that night.

Diana Ecker and Amanda Hakanson-Stacy, the DJ’s for “Les Gold,” sported black and gold spandex that covered them from head to toe – probably the most modest outfits of the night. Ecker described their unique fashion choice as “an American Apparel model and Beyonce getting into a car accident together.”

While some used the dance as an opportunity to express their artistic sense of fashion, others took advantage of the Whitaker Center’s “fun-filled floors.” Students played with everything from a sand box to testicular self-examination modules. “There’s nothing like having fun and learning at the same time,” commented Kate Adams, a nursing major at Messiah who attended the Fling this year.

The IMAX showing of Under the Sea 3D was another successful combination of entertainment and education in which students were able to participate. It was a nice place for those who went stag. Unlike our parents’ prom night, there was no embarrassing row of folding chairs on the sideline to remind them of their single lifestyle. Students without dates (or with two left feet) could easily hide in the theatre for all three showings of Under the Sea.

For those of the student body who missed Spring Fling this year, I highly suggest the next fellowship gathering. It is a time in which we can learn about our bodies (self-examination modules), see things fly in our faces (3D Movies), and grow with each other a spiritual community (grinding to T-Pain). I look forward to seeing you there next year, and I hope you’ll be wearing more than Jesus.

Growing up I never had a guilty stomach. I’d sit inside the food pantry eating whole boxes of Little Debbies snacks. (Zebra Cakes, Nutty Butter Bars and Rice Krispy Treats.) I knew what tasted good and I didn’t care if it was bad. This obsession with food resulted in my parents locking the pantry door on me from the inside. Although, this didn’t stop me. I always found a way in, even if it meant hiding in the pantry for hours.

My eating out habits were probably even worse than my eating in.

Dinning out consisted of two meals chicken fingers or hamburgers. These were the staples in my diet. If I didn’t have either option I was unsatisfied. My family often went to Subway after church, both activities against my will. Religion and vegetables. How could my weekend possibly get any worse. I’d just bit my unhappy tongue, turn the other cheek and order “a sandwich.” No cheese, no meat, no veggies, no salt, no pepper, no oil or vinegar. 2 chocolate chip cookies and a small diet coke all for the price of a full Subway meal. This wasn’t what most kids ordered. I know realize what I ordered was prison food.

I remember one of my first real dining out experiences with my family. Around the age of 7, my parents took my sister and I to a buffet called Dunstan School Restaurant in Scarbrough, a small town in Southern Maine. Dunstan, was a restored and redecorated school house that was built just after WWII.

My memory fades when it comes to the details of both the interior and exterior of the building. However I can remember two things, first the fear of a new restaurant with limited choices. “A buffet?… (Food without a choice)…So, I just have to accept whatever is under these lights?” I questioned to myself. No hamburgers? No chicken fingers? No Little Debbie Boxes.?

Although I probably was old enough not to be using a high chair. According to my memory I might as well have been. I felt confined. I became a prisoner to food. Luckily I found an escape. A light at the end of the tunnel. Walking back to our dining table I balance a full plate of Jelly Beans. Something that tasted good. Something I didn’t have to try. I knew I could eat lots of them. Looking back on my childhood, I now realize my parents paid for a lot of full price bullshit meals for me. I cleaned my plate, eating every last jelly bean on my plate except for the black ones of course. Nobody likes those ones. Not even adults.

There was only  one other time in my life I felt this same exact fear. Around the age of 13 my father introduced me to something known as the PuPu platter. Of course hearing these words “poopoo” associated with the food I was about to eat, made me sick. This very moment what I call my “Consumption Conscience” planted a small seed in me. Soon it would grow to be more than just gross words persuading me not to eat something. My plate would soon reflect my heart but…

Until then hamburgers, chicken fingers and plates of jelly beans suited me just fine.