Cigarette Smoke + Too Much Cologne

I’ve been debating if I should ever tell this story, but I think now is just about as good of a time as any...

We were celebrating my birthday, and I was standing inside a now-closed gay bar in Denver with a few friends. We had already been to a couple of other bars, so I was a few drinks in and having the time of my life. That’s when I met him. He was older than me by a few years and seemed to immediately take notice of me. He wasn’t a ten but he definitely wasn’t ugly. He was a smoker and he wore a little too much cologne. But I had low self-esteem at the time, and it was my birthday so I soaked up the attention. Two of my “more attractive” gay friends were with me, and usually, they got all the attention but he picked me. So I laughed, playfully flirted and party puffed peach Prime Times that he bought me so we could go outside and “smoke” together. He bought me more cheap drinks and Prime Times than I needed but again, I was the birthday boy. Throughout the night, my friends stood by and rolled their eyes but laughed as I drunkenly sucked face with this guy between drinks and puffs. I was another year older and yet somehow not quite wiser.

It was getting close to bar close and somehow he convinced me to leave with him. He was drunk, I was DEFINITELY drunk and the whole plan made zero sense but I went with him.

We walked a few blocks and ended up in his car driving to his hotel ... which I later realized was in the Denver Tech Center! For those of you that don’t know ... driving from 17th and Washington to DTC isn't very close. Not only did I make the very stupid mistake of getting in a drunk strangers car but I also failed to tell my group of friends that I was leaving or where I was going. I’d gone completely rogue.

When we arrived at the hotel I was completely lost, but living on the high of feeling wanted and attractive. This guy feed me alcohol and compliments like a perfect date. We stumbled up to his room, which reeked of his cologne and continued making out on the bed. He offered me a coldish beer from a pack he had in his room, which I happily drank, and a shot of Absolut. Ugh. I shouldn’t have had either but I was living my best life and time meant nothing.

Now a little bit of backstory, by this point in my life I had only really been intimate with one guy and only a handful of girls. Sure, I was a make-out bandit but beyond that, I was mostly a whole lotta talk and not a lot of action.

We started making out again, and that’s when I got the weird feeling I should either leave or at the very least check in with my friends. Too bad that wasn’t really an option anymore. I pulled away and said something about checking my phone, and he immediately pulled me back but with a bit of force. I drunkenly mumbled to him that I needed to text a friend but my phone was in my pant pocket across the room. He told me they would be fine and pressed his mouth into mine. Suddenly I could taste his rancid cigarette breath, but even though my mind was suddenly sober, my body was still a limp noodle in comparison. He continued to force his mouth into mine while simultaneously poking and prodding his way around my body. I pushed and he pushed back harder. I remember looking at the clock and seeing 3:12 and immediately wishing I’d never gone out at all. He slapped me, he spit on me, he called me bad names and he forced his way into me. It was slow motion and maybe the longest hour of my life. Lucky for me he couldn’t manage to "finish" and eventually gave up. He blamed it on my lack of participation.

It was 4:08 when it ended. He threw $20 at me for a cab and kicked me out of his hotel room.

I had no clue where I was, wandered down to the lobby and sat outside on the bench in front of the hotel. I felt empty and embarrassed. I pulled the last Prime Time out of my pocket, smoked it and cried.

Now, back then there wasn’t Uber or Lyft so to go somewhere you had to call a cab. I finally collected myself and asked the front desk (because my phone died) if they could call me a cab, preferably 3s ... I hated 3s.

It took a while, but the cab finally arrived. I got in the back seat, told him an address close but not quite my house, and sat there knowing I didn’t have enough money to pay him for the ride.

When we arrived at the address, I quickly handed him the $20 in my pocket and bolted out of the car toward my actual house. I cut through an alley, turned right, and strangely zig-zagged back to my building. I felt like Aladdin running from the guards in one of the opening scenes. FUN FACT: I never called 3s again!

I pulled open the insanely heavy front door of my building and sat in the lobby for a minute staring at the creepy painting of some man. By now the sun was rising, and I knew people were most likely crashing at my apartment. I gave myself a minute, pulled it together and let out a few more tears before making my way up to the 3rd floor. Nobody was awake when I walked in, so I snuck into my room and laid staring blankly at the ceiling until they woke up.

Later when my friends asked me about the rest of my night, I pieced together parts of the story and laughed at what a drunken fool I’d been. I told them how I refused to stay the night with him so he kicked me out in anger. I cherry-picked the highlights and left out the details that still periodically haunt me. Guys didn’t get raped and I was no victim. I was the wild and fun friend that kept the party going. I was not going to bring down the room with my nightmare of a night. Besides, at the time and for years, I felt like I could only blame myself for being so careless.

Until today, I never told anyone, and so that night he won. Unfortunately, I don’t think my story is unique. Sadly, I think it’s more common than we all realize.

His face is a blur these days and I could probably look right at him and not even realize it, but if I caught a whiff of his cologne and heard his name ...

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

Resources for those who might need them:

• RAINN | The nation’s largest anti-sexual violence organization

• Documentary: The Hunting Ground

• Male Rape: The Silent Victim and the Gender of the Listener

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Til It Happens To You” - Lady Gaga

File Not Found

Before I started this blog, I lived on a pedestal of judgment. I looked at other bloggers, podcasters, content creators … all of the above and thought, “how dare they set a schedule and then fail to deliver?!”

Well … here I am. I set a schedule and for MULTIPLE weeks, I’ve failed to deliver. Funny how things change when you’re in the driver’s seat, right? It’s been a strange pill to swallow because I don’t feel like a “failure” but it’s made me realize that life is busy and it’s VERY easy for days to turn into a week, a week to turn into weeks and before you know it … you’ve missed a due date.

I applaud the creators that can hold on strong to a schedule. I admire the few and the proud that continue to make deadlines even though life has thrown them all the curveballs. Bravo, people because I realized I am not that person; however, I refuse to put something out there just to appease the people. I would rather wait, simmer and put something out there that I’m proud to share.

I had a few busy weeks that not only sparked creativity but unintentionally prevented me from developing that same creativity. I spent an overdue weekend in Georgia with two of my best friends and my adorable godson. I ventured to the Mile High City and the mountains around it to hold down the fort as the lone gay at a butch bachelor party for another close friend. I stepped up to the plate with an organization that means the world to me. And I faced one of my fears in the world of running and had an epiphany that made me completely rethink my whole running mindset.

There's gold on the horizon but right now I'm just pulling up a whole lotta "file not found."

If you’ve got advice for a guy stuck in a rut, feel free to drop it in the comments or send a carrier pigeon if that’s easier!

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “You Need to Calm Down” - Taylor Swift

Body Positivity Pt. 1: Being Skinny Sucks, Too.

First and foremost, let me begin by saying I am in no way, shape or form an expert when it comes to talking about the body. To be completely honest, I usually try to avoid conversations around the subject of body positivity, body shaming or really any of the factors and facets that go into defining these things. Oh, but guess what?! Like most people, I do have an opinion and I will share it with you now.

Growing up, I have almost always been scrawny. And yes, I choose the word “scrawny” and not skinny. There’s a difference, especially to those of us living in that realm. I was always boney and gangly. My arms are too long for my body. And nothing ever seems to fit me in a way that feels flattering. Now, I’m sure a lot of people might think, “Oh no. Whoa is you for being too skinny … try being (insert some other body type),” to which I would reply, “it’s not a competition but thank you for confirming my original opinion on the matter.”

I believe that almost everyone has some sort of body issue. We look in the mirror and fixate on the things we don’t have because at some point we saw a “beautiful” body and it probably looked nothing like ours. More power to the people who can run around loving their body flaws and all, but I am not one of them. I have a laundry list of complaints, but these days my biggest complaint isn’t actually about my body anymore. My biggest complaint stems from something very simple. Here’s where some might highly disagree (or be offended) with what I’m about to say, but here goes … why is it okay to constantly comment on someone being skinny, but not the reverse? And why do people feel the need to point out someone’s height, as if they aren’t already aware of it themselves?

At least once a week, someone says something seemingly “nice” but slightly offensive about my size. Here are a few examples:

“Oh, of course you can eat that … you’re skinny!”

OR, “oh wow, is Noah actually eating something? I didn’t think he did that.”

OR, I hear annoying scoffs and mumbles if for some reason I mention that I feel bloated or full after eating a large meal.

Yes, please point out when my shirt size is small that, “of course that’s what size you wear!” And absolutely, make a joke about how I can “probably shop in the children’s section for clothing.” Trust me, all your jokes are completely original and I’ve never heard any of them before today. Did you also know my name was Noah? I’m sure you can come up with something super clever and original surrounding that, too. EYE. FUCKING. ROLL!

Feelin’ cute on my busted bike. Puerto Vallarta, 2016

Society seems to think commenting on thin bodies is some sort of compliment. NEWS FLASH: It’s not. To some people, these might not sound like the worst things to hear but as someone that has always been self-conscience about my height and weight, it’s cringeworthy. It’s a constant reminder that no matter what I do to try and gain weight … I’m failing. But for some reason, I’m forced to suffer in silence because pointing out how rude it is, would only be met with sarcastic eye rolls and a begrudging, “ooookay!”

It’s just not cool. How would you like it if I constantly monitored your food intake? “Oh, eating another snack? Didn’t you already have a snack today?”

OR, “Oh, wow … turning down a free meal? I didn’t think someone like you would do that?”

I would never really do that, but furthermore, constantly commenting on how “skinny” someone looks can also perpetuate harmful and concerning stereotypes that people look better when they’re skinny. On a recent episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills (yes, I’m connecting this to RHOBH), Kyle Richards opened up about how hearing all the positive feedback only drove her to eat less. For fucks sake, she would heat up tomato juice and call it a meal because she loved the attention.

LONG STORY SHORT … let’s all shut up about each other’s bodies. Live in your body and focus on your own body because that’s the only “body” you have control over.

Now, before I wrap this up, I would like to raise my hand and admit that I’m far from perfect. I’m actually quite the offender when it comes to this type of thing, especially if I feel really close to someone AKA my actual friends. But let’s just say, after a few recent experiences, fixing (slash adjusting) this egregious behavior has become a high priority in my life. I’m taking this opportunity to focus on my body and only my body.

#MyBodyMyChoice

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Exactly How I Feel” - Lizzo

To TV, or Not to TV?!

When I first moved back to Minnesota in January 2018, I didn’t have cable. I could watch shows on cable, but my partner and I could only watch them on an old iPad that was logged into a friend’s Comcast account, so it wasn’t ideal. Oh, and our internet was probably the jankiest and most unreliable signal imaginable. Sure, it was decent and we were 100% thankful, but you really can’t watch too much television using that method. It forces you to pick and choose your favorites and really focus on those.

Then one magical day we got a letter in the mail saying everyone in the building was getting new, extra fancy cable boxes that not only gave us all the channels but also allowed us to record shows while simultaneously watching other shows! I know this is definitely not a new technology, but holy moly, I was floored!

I remember racing—practically running—home from work the day of the installation, throwing open the door and seeing the television blasting my all time favorite channel ... yes, it was on Bravo! And I was in heaven. I remember feeling overwhelmed with emotion. Like seriously, who knew I missed television that much?!

It was like I had never seen or heard of television. I was hooked! I went from watching occasional reruns of I Love Lucy and Designing Women on DVD or barely watchable episodes of cable on an iPad to crisp HD real time cable. Oh, and the best part ... we could pause, fast-forward AND rewind when necessary! #MINDBLOWN!

I went from barely watching tv to ONLY watching tv! If you recommended a show, I would go home and watch it. The housewives on Bravo, the vampires on FX, the people living in the good place, the disgruntled store workers on NBC, all the trashy reality show contestants and really everyone in between became my new best friends! Ask Norris. It was bad, but I was living my best. And I was not ashamed. I loved watching tv!

Meanwhile, Norris liked cable, but he was also developing a secret love of something else ... podcasts. Now, I’d given podcasts a chance back when they were the new “it” thing (they still kind of are) but I’m talking when Serial first dropped in 2014 and people were still recording podcasts at their dining room table with a handheld recording device and a prayer! They were okay, but definitely nothing to write home about. And while I knew podcasts were becoming all the rage, I just wasn’t really interested in trying again.

For weeks I made fun of him because he’d developed this sort of catchphrase, “On my podcast …"

He’d come back from a run.

ME: How was your run?

HIM: It was good. On my podcast ...

He’d come home from the gym.

ME: How was the gym?

HIM: It was good. On my podcast ...

We’d be talking about the latest episode of Drag Race.

ME: What’d you think of ... ?

HIM: Oh, yeah. I agree. On my podcast ...

At one point I told him, he could only use the word “podcast” 10 times a day! I was over it. I didn’t want to hear about any more of his silly podcasts.

But then I found out Casey Wilson, my personal star of ABC’s Happy Endings (RIP), had a podcast devoted to all things Bravo and so in a moment of weakness, I decided to give it a shot. It was the perfect marriage between my love of Bravo and my love’s new love. Sure, I’ll listen to Bitch Sesh. It’s Bravo, it’s Casey, and it’s approachable.

As soon at it ended my world become a blur of media. I became hooked and I wanted more. So I asked around and someone recommended My Favorite Murder, a true crime comedy podcast. Yes, please. In only a matter of days, I was deep in a podcast rabbit hole. Books? What are those? All I know now is trash tv and vulgar podcasts about Bravo and true crime! Why read when someone can just fill your head with information and witty banter?!

Things really shifted when I realized one big advantage to podcasts. Unlike television, podcasts had the upper hand when it came to life in general. Not only could I get my fix, but I could do it while sitting, walking, running and even working! Yes, I could have a podcast running ALL DAY if I really wanted to listen. If cable television was heaven, clearly podcasts were the keys to the pearly gates!

FULL DISCLOSURE: This was only a few months ago. But last week while visiting my family for a couple days I realized I needed to chill out with television and podcasts.

As I sat in a restaurant with my family one evening, forcing awkward conversation across the table, I realized that even though I was missing all my favorite shows and unable to listen to a new episode of Bitch Sesh that just popped up in my notifications, everything would be okay. It would still be there later that night or even weeks later if necessary. I came to the obvious realization that TV and podcasts will always be there, but these moments and these people might not be so we shouldn’t take them for granted. Maybe my family and I don’t have the best relationship and maybe our conversations aren’t quite as entertaining as the ones on television or podcasts, but we’ll never make any progress if I spend my time with them day dreaming about my other “friends.”

Let’s be clear … I still 100% love television and podcasts, but if I miss a new episode here or there. I’m okay with that. Just look at all the unwatched episodes of Pose, Fosse/Verdon, Project Runway and Big Little Lies sitting on our DVR collecting dust.

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Never Really Over” - Katy Perry (For some reason the lyrics resonate with me and my relationship with television/podcasts.)

Goal, Interrupted

First and foremost, I apologize because this post is LEGITIMATELY one week late! So much for a schedule, right?! 🤷🏾‍♂️

Not to make excuses (as I’m literally about to give you an excuse) but when I put the bi-weekly reminder in my phone, I somehow started it on the wrong date. For a few days, even I was like, “holy shit … it feels like it’s been a while since I posted” and yet I did absolutely nothing about it. And then when I realized I for sure missed the day, I still did nothing. Blah, blah, blah … excuses but here I am! I’m back, bishes!

Either way, missing my goal of posting bi-weekly leads me to today’s topic … setting goals. I’m the type of person that LOVES to set outrageous goals in brief moments of what one can only assume is pure insanity. I love to aim way too high, shout it from the rooftops and then watch most of them fizzle and die. Now some of these goals are actually completely attainable, my main problem is that I spend very little time researching them and setting realistic timelines. These starry-eyed delusional goals are one of my many flaws. And that along with my crippling inability to make decisions is a very dangerous combination. #STRUGGLES

I guess you could say I’m fortunate because by now most of my friends and family know this about me, so when it happens they just smile and nod politely, but then never bring it up again unless I happen to mention it. Then if I actually do manage to accomplish one of these lofty goals, they cheer me on as if they believed in me the whole time.

“Great job, Noah! We always knew you could do it!” … yeah right, but thanks anyway.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the support but deep down it all feels a little disingenuous. Like I would rather someone say, “I never thought you could do it,” because at least then I would know they weren’t lying.

Just to give you a little more context, I (after a few beers and on a bit of a runner’s high) made the declaration that I wanted to try and qualify for the Boston Marathon this year. Originally, I saw that I needed to run a 3:10 which in my mind is completely doable, but then later saw I basically needed to run a sub 3:00 … and shit my pants a little. Cutting 10-minutes may not seem like a lot, but it’s a lot harder than it sounds. Then you factor in my stubborn, know-it-all flaw and the fact that there’s only a handful of marathons before the September deadline … and it’s probably not going to happen.

Again, if I’d done my research and kept my mouth shut a little longer, I could’ve set a realistic goal. But as I’ve already explained that’s just not my style. Either way, I swallowed my pride, realized it wasn’t going to happen and quietly retracted my statement. Do I still want to qualify for Boston? Absolutely. But maybe in 2020 or even 2021.

Long story long, I found out a person I really trust was sort of bad-mouthing my goal to some other people, and holy shit, it hurt. I can certainly handle a fair-weather "friend” bashing me behind my back, but this wasn’t that. It was different. It felt more like a personal attack. It felt judgmental and mean spirited. It made me question all the things I’ve ever said to this person. It made all their previous “support” feel like some inside joke at my expense. And it really broke me.

I honestly didn’t think it would affect me this way and I’m actually surprised at my own reaction. Which is why I don’t exactly know how to proceed. And quite frankly, I don’t know how I feel about this person at the moment.

For now, I think it's time to put a lid on my goals and pack them away somewhere deep in the attic of my mind, and maybe put my overconfident declarations on mute. If there’s a lesson to be learned in all this, I would say it’s that we shouldn’t rely on other people’s support and/or validation. I used to quote the motto an old boss taught me, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I think there’s some truth to that, but I think for right now I need to spend a little time going alone.

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Fighter” - Gym Class Heroes

Not So Happy-Go-Lucky!

To an outside observer, I might seem like this extroverted Chatty Cathy, but deep down I’m actually not. I’m actually a pretty big introvert. And if you really knew me, you would know that for years I struggled with severe depression and anxiety. At one point, I even considered ending it once and for all.

I want to keep today’s post reletively brief because as much as I would love to deep dive into the reasons behind my depression and anxiety, I’m just not quite ready to disclose that. It was an extremely dark time in my life, and while I’m proud to have it behind me … it’s still very sensitive. So, unfortunately, that will just have to be a story for another day and I hope that’s okay.

As you may or may not know, May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and I think we should absolutely take that seriously. Ever since my own personal battle with mental health issues, the topic has held a very special place in my heart. No, you won’t see me waving a banner or marching in a local mental health parade because that’s just not quite my style but it is important to me.

Right now, there is a giant misconception about what depression looks like and guess what?! In reality, depression doesn’t have “a look.” Depression is a silent killer lurking in the shadows of ones mind manifesting differently for everyone. Don’t assume that just because your friend has been in hiding and avoiding the public eye that they are depressed. And definitely don’t assume your friend who is always the life of the party is perfectly fine. Often times it’s the people you least expect that are suffering. There is no carbon copy or cookie cutter form of depression.

During some of my darkest days, I was out and about almost every night. I was laughing, and dancing, and having “the most fun” in the public eye. I didn’t want people to question my happiness so I became a master pretender and silently prayed nobody knew the real thoughts swirling around my head. I was slowly sinking deeper and deeper into a seemingly endless pit of depression. I was too scared to tell people and for a while, I refused to get help. I thought I was just being dramatic and that I could handle it on my own but I was wrong. It wasn’t until I looked for help that I very quickly realized I was not alone. There were lots of people like me. I learned that sometimes people who are depressed are afraid to admit it because there’s such a stigma around it. And unfortunately, people who aren’t even close to depression often misuse and abuse the word ultimately negating its value, making it even harder to come forward.

Like I said before, depression has many forms and everyone deals with it differently. But no matter how we deal with it, it’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of and should be taken seriously. Mental health issues require visibility and awareness, and the more we talk about it … the more we can make sure people get the help they need before it’s too late.

I’m not perfect. I’m not “fixed.” I am human and I will always be a work in progress. For as long as I’m alive, I will continue to fight and conquer my inner monsters. Can I safely say that my depression is behind me? I think so. Are there still occasional dark days? Sure, but now I know that I can overcome them.

For a while, depression felt like a weighted blanket that I was forced to carry around each day, and this might sound crazy but that weight made me a stronger person today. I had to go through that part of my life in order to thrive and unfortunately remind myself why I wanted to survive. It taught me to celebrate the highs, and not to linger on the lows. It taught me to seek to understand before jumping to judgment, something I’m still working on. But most importantly, going through the rough patch and getting help taught me that it’s okay to not be okay.

Blah, blah, blah … I said I would keep this short and I kind of did. Take time to check-in with the people you love. And by check-in, I mean REALLY check-in. Ask questions, be supportive and create a safe space for them. We are all humans and in the wise words of Disney’s High School Musical …

PS. If you or someone you know is suffering from depression, don’t be afraid to get help. I am not a professional (SHOCKER!) but I do recommend getting help if you need it. It wasn’t until I asked for help that I was truly able to get a handle on my depression and anxiety.

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

Find out more about Mental Health:

• Anxiety and Depression Association of America

• National Alliance on Mental Illness

• Mental Health America

• SAVE: Suicide Awareness Voices of Education

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Who You Are” - Jessie J

Colorblind and Completely in Love

I was somewhere in my early twenties and after weeks of mysteriously vanishing from social events and far too many lame excuses to bail on fun activities, I finally decided to come clean — I was dating someone new. By now we’d known each other long enough and I'd finally come to the conclusion that this guy was ready to meet my core group of friends — maybe not my family, but certainly my close compadres.

Now everyone knows introducing a new fling to friends is never easy, no matter how old you are. There’s the immediate barrage of questions, the unnerving fear they won’t approve or worse, they’ll manage to spill the one story you had every intention of never telling. And I will openly admit that I have been the fearless leader of such peanut galleries but this isn’t about that.

Having witnessed a few less than stellar introductions, I was always secretly terrified of being on the receiving end; hence, the reason I rarely brought potential suitors to the firing squad. The opinions of my close friends have always held a heavy weight and my friends have always been a bunch of bloodthirsty assassins with killer instincts. When they smell trouble, I usually listen because most of the time they’re right. Seriously though, listening to them more often might have saved me from a few bad relationships and a hearty handful of nightmare dates.

Either way, when game night rolled around and it was time to throw my new beau to the wolves, I prepared myself mentally, filled him in on all the must-know details, approached my friend's apartment and hand-in-hand we rang the doorbell — all the while feeling as though I would vomit. By the end of the night, despite all their secret whispers of criticism (and let’s be honest, looking back he really was a complete loser) only one comment really stuck with me …

“I’m surprised he’s white. Will your family be okay with that?”

Will my family be okay with what … me dating a white guy?! Seriously? I was stunned. In the moment, I didn’t have a great comeback or even a full sentence. I distinctly remember sort of laughing and half mumbling something before awkwardly excusing myself so I could use the restroom slash get the hell outta there.

It was 2011, was this still a legitimate question?

My date never heard the comment, and I’m glad I never mentioned it. I can only imagine how I might have felt if the roles were reversed and I heard something so naive when surrounded by his tight-knit clan of friends. Not to mention, how I might have felt if he’d mustered the same lame response I did back then. #SMH

Now before that night, there’s a good chance I’d never noticed or blatantly ignored similar comments since they were never really directed my way specifically. Like when my pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed friend constantly mentioned her lack of attraction to guys of ethnicity or how she, “just didn’t know what her parents would do if she brought home a black guy.” I usually just ignored it. And to be perfectly honest, I know I’ve been guilty of saying something equally atrocious to a friend during a night of drunken buffoonery. If I remember correctly, I think I said something along the lines of, “it’s about time you finally tried to date someone of your own kind. Now you will finally bring honor to your family” to an Asian friend of mine. Yikes. Definitely not my proudest moment. Even typing it back makes me cringe and think I should probably call and apologize for that one.

As someone who has predominately found themselves in interracial relationships, I actively support the idea. I constantly root for the long-term success of interracial couples in the public eye — there they are, happy for everyone to see. Take that, haters! Even still, I fear that despite the changes in generations and the abundance of these “mixed” couples floating around, interracial love will always hold a small stigma with some.

So what does it feel like to be in an interracial relationship? Well … I can’t necessarily speak for everyone, but for me, there’s a moment near the beginning when I constantly worry that my date and I will be judged — that those around us will not approve of our mutual twitterpation. And if you’ve seen the film, Get Out, there’s almost always that nerve wracking feeling before meeting their family where you think, “I really hope they know I’m black and this isn’t some weird surprise.” Sure, after a while, it usually subsides, but every now and then — especially since moving to the Caucasian covered land of Minnesota — I still feel uneasy. It’s not Minnesota’s fault for being predominately Caucasian, but coming from Arizona and Colorado, there’s at least a little more diversity there. And even though, I’d like to believe people here are accepting, every now and then I catch a curious glance that seems to say, “hmm … gay AND interracial?!”

A majority of people might indeed be “ready for mixed relationships” and a lot of these uneasy feelings might stem from my own insecurities and lack of confidence. But while I have always been a supporter of love in all its forms, sadly the world as a whole is not. Sure, it’s okay to be friends with someone outside your race, and let’s face it, most of us have a “token” friend of some sort but more than that — white with white, black with black and never shall the two meet for more than a fling.

SIDE NOTE: My partner and I just saw A Bronx Tale: The Musical when it came through the Twin Cities, and while the plot is respectfully thin, a bulk of it is about this very subject. So it rang a little close to home.

Sometimes there’s just a natural attraction to people of a certain similar physical appearance or because you grew up in a place where that was really your only option. Sometimes you just want to step outside your comfort zone because you heard, “once you go black you never go back” or something similar about another race, and now gosh darn-it you just want to know the truth. And sometimes you just meet someone great, decide you want to spend more time with him or her, and you don’t care what anyone else thinks. In any circumstance who are we to judge the who and the why behind it all? Navigating the emotional map known as “love” is already difficult enough, so why should people make it even more complicated by adding their two cents. If people are in love, far be it from me to tell them no.

An often-overused cliché says, “love is blind” and I whole-heartedly agree, it should be. I know that I personally have been in love multiple times with people of varying ethnicities, and currently I’m extremely happy with a partner who just so happens to be Caucasian. Lately, it feels like our world is taking a dark turn, and as hard as we’ve fought for love and equal rights, hate still manages to show it’s ugly face. But it is my deepest hope that we can turn this around and that one-day couples of every kind can showcase their love out in the open and without judgement. You may read this and assume I’m primarily advocating for the acceptance of interracial relationships, and yes that’s partially true but deep down what I’m really advocating for is the acceptance of love in general.

 "More happy love! More happy, happy love!" - John Keats

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Love Hangover” - Diana Ross

Giving Fear the Middle Finger (F**K FEAR)

People always talk about finding your passion and what it means to find your passion, but as someone who has struggled to find said “passion,” it’s always annoyed me to hear said people. When confronted with the conversation, my response has always been, “Yeah yeah … I’ll go find my passion when you finally shut up about how you found yours!” Throw in a grumpy old “bah humbug” and I was basically Ebenezer Scrooge when it came to chasing your dreams.

Looking back, I realize now that I was so negative because deep down, I didn’t really know what my passion was and I was too afraid to put myself out there to find it. Sure, I’ve dabbled in a ton of things. And sure, I like doing a lot of things, but do they really fuel me to get up and go in the morning? Are they the driving force behind what I do every day? Nah, bruh …

It wasn’t until a few years ago that the wheels started turning for me. I knew this boss lady (and she will remain nameless) who abruptly left a seemingly amazing job with great pay and potential stock in the company because it wasn’t what she truly wanted to do. Now I can’t completely speak for her, but from my understanding, she wanted to step out from behind the scenes of someone else’s dream, and dream even bigger for herself. She’d spent the better part of her 20s helping another person achieve their dreams, and now it was her time. By leaving the company she went from making almost six figures a year (which isn’t a ton, but it’s still pretty darn good) to making $100/week. But at the end of the day, she was happy! And not just that fake kinda happy, she was genuinely happy. Seeing her new found happiness is when it finally clicked in my head that maybe … just maybe … I might want to do the same. I guess you could say, she was the first person who inspired me to seriously start the conversation internally.

Fast forward (I use that phrase a lot …) and people around me are jumping ship left and right. They’re leaving great jobs and turning down incredible opportunities, all in the name of “following their passion and taking a risk” … and guess what?! Nobody is dying. Sure, they were scared and worried that it might all come crumbling down around them, who wouldn’t be at least a little worried. But when I talk to them, every single person is claiming that the grind is hard but the rewards are so much greater! So again … I’m thinking, “damn those lucky freaks! What’s stopping me? Why am I so afraid to try?”

It wasn’t until I found myself lying in bed feeling uninspired by my life and my purpose that I finally realized something desperately needed to change. I wasn’t unhappy but I also wasn’t happy. I was numb. I was safe and complacent. Now, if you’ve ever been stuck in that weird in between funk, you know just how tough that can be. What do you do? Your complaints are minimal and albeit kind of silly, and when people ask how they can help … you don’t really have an answer. Not knowing what to do or how to solve my strange dilemma, I did an internal deep dive and tried to figure out just what made me tick.

For months, I spent hours and hours privately analyzing my life and each of the pieces that made the machine move. As I was mindlessly scrolling social media late one night, a blog I follow (@pjandthomas AKA The Property Lovers) posted on Instagram how one of them was finally making the choice to quit his stable “adult job” and focus on their business full-time. They talked about how it was scary, and how “making the choice to follow your passion is not always an easy one.” So maybe it was perfect timing, maybe it’s because they’re both mildly attractive or maybe it’s just because I was so sick and tired of hearing it, but either way, I decided right then and there to take action.

I sat up in bed at 142A (yes, I remember the time), and started aggressively typing in my phone. I wrote a list of all the things I loved. Writing. Creating. Music. Theatre. Running. Disney. Volunteering. I kept going until I couldn’t think of anything else and finally allowed myself to go back to sleep. When I woke up later that day, I looked over the mildly delirious list and promised myself that I would stop being afraid and use the list to help me discover my passion. There would be no more excuses. And there would be no more self doubt. I would finally attempt to quiet that nagging, awful voice in then back my head and put myself out there.

I could write a blog that nobody ever reads. I could run a race outside my comfort zone and not even finish. I could show up to an audition and crack through every note of my song. I could try a ton of things and fail miserably, but I could also play it safe my whole life and get hit by a rogue driver while innocently crossing the street. Anything is possible, so why not just try? FUCK FEAR. And like they say on RuPaul’s Drag Race, “fuck being safe!”

In the spirit of honesty, my sleep deprived list hasn’t solved all my problems. And even with the list, I’m still searching for my true passion; however, I will say that for the first time in a long time, I think I’m heading in the right direction.

It’s been a couple months since I made that list, and here’s where I stand. I started this blog … thanks for reading. I signed up for a race in a distance I’ve never tried and outside my comfort zone. I started volunteering regularly with two amazing organizations, Mile in My Shoes and The Birthday Party Project. I joined a kickball league … thanks, Doug! And I even scheduled my first musical theatre audition here in the Twin Cities. Using the list, I’ve managed to put myself out there in a way I could’ve never anticipated and I’m actually really excited about it.

There will always be excuses for why you can’t or shouldn’t do something. But for those of you out there struggling to “find your passion,” I leave you with this … the task might seem daunting, you might not know where to begin and you might be completely afraid but at the very least, take a few minutes and start the conversation with yourself. Rip the band-aid and most importantly … stop making excuses.

- Noah L. Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Bottom of the River” - Delta Rae

A Rival Weekend in Walt Disney World

Travel is one of the truest tests of a relationship. Lucky for me and Norris, we started out doing the whole “long distance” thing, so we’ve been traveling together since the day we met and have literally traveled the world together. Back and forth between Colorado and Minnesota, several trips to New York, California and Florida, multiple cruises, we even survived a few extremely long trips across the ocean to London and Japan. Sure, we’ve had our fair share of travel bumps in the road, who hasn’t?! But to be honest, we travel really well together and for that, I’m extremely grateful. So as I packed my bags and prepared to meet him in Orlando for the tail end of his spring break, I was genuinely excited. Not only would I get to see him soon, but it would be in our favorite place …. Walt Disney World! And being the sweet guy he is, he’d arranged for us to stay at a new resort for me, Disney’s Animal Kingdom Lodge complete with a view of the nearby savannah. Yass, queen!

DAY ONE: Arrival

A flight from Minnesota to Orlando is only a few hours, but it’s usually crawling with over-sugared children and their high strung parents. So mentally preparing for these flights can often be its own special adventure. Imagine my surprise and delight when I took my seat in the COMPLETELY EMPTY exit row! I could check that off the list of travel stressors. The plane eventually took off and like clockwork, a few hours later we arrived in “The City Beautiful” (Orlando’s nickname) and all my travel stress immediately began to fade. You know the ones, “will my flight be on-time” or “how is this plane even flying in the air” or “will I get some weird driver when I arrive.” If you don’t have those thoughts while traveling, bless your heart because every single time I get on a plane the famous scene from Final Destination floods my brain and I spend the first few minutes secretly deciding if I should type up a quick will and testament in the notes application on my phone and send it up to the cloud before I die. But guess what?! I didn’t die.

Vacations, in general, can be stressful. And Disney vacations can be extremely stressful, but one of the advantages you have when staying on property is using Disney’s Magical Express. For those of you that don’t know, it’s a complimentary transportation service that gives you a ride to and from the airport. And while some people in the family refer to it as the “Tragical Express” … a free ride is a free ride! As I boarded the bus, I tossed my weekend backpack in the seat beside me, threw my cares to the wind and sat back to enjoy the ride!

It was late when I arrived, but to say Disney’s Animal Kingdom Lodge is “beautiful” would be a severe understatement. Upon entering the lobby there are really no words to describe my immediate feeling. I was overcome with joy and immediately knew this was my favorite Disney resort! I hurried up to the room, pleased to see that despite the time, there were still a few animals within eyesight of our savannah view and as I went to sleep that first evening, I crossed my fingers hoping my morning view would be something straight from the opening scene in The Lion King! SPOILER ALERT: It was not but it was close enough that I was still VERY happy!

DAY TWO: Epcot and Disney Springs

For our first day in the parks, we ventured over to Epcot, which is my second favorite park and Norris’ absolute favorite park! We started the day tooling around, lightly snacking and taking in all the attractions. Since the park wasn’t too busy we were in absolutely no hurry. A leisurely trip inside Spaceship Earth, a speedy lap around Test Track, and a high-intensity ride on Mission: SPACE later it was time for our lunch reservation at Rose & Crown “across the pond” in Great Britain!

As many times as I’ve “run” by Rose & Crown, I’d never actually been inside. The menu features a wide selection of booze and classic British bites. To be honest, the menu was a bit underwhelming being that when it comes to Disney sit down meals, I’m always a HUGE fan of the buffets. It’s easily more bang and more bites for your buck, but nonetheless, I opted for the corned beef and cabbage — a meal I absolutely can’t make at home. Norris’ did the same and went with the Shepherd’s Pie. Both items were delicious, but the true star of the meal was the sticky toffee pudding Norris begrudgingly shared with me after I politely declined dessert only a few moments earlier! #ThatsLove <3

When visiting Disney, Norris and I are always perfectly content treating and eating ourselves into food comas and taking our time through the parks. It might sound “first world” of us, but we’ve seen it all and at this point, we just like to enjoy the experience. Realizing we’d had our fill at Epcot, we snapped into a new mission. Why not head over to Disney Springs and check out Guy Fieri’s new restaurant Chicken Guy, comfortably nested only a hop, skip and a jump from where the Disney transportation buses drop you off. Now, when given the option between tried and true park favorites and exploring new food options … new food wins! Why not? HOLY MOLY! The first bite of our juicy, white meat chicken tenders dipped in “Nashville Hot Honey” sauce (only one of 22 different sauces), proved we’d made the right decision! Not only was the meal absolutely delicious, but it was also totally affordable!

DAY THREE: Animal Kingdom Lodge and Trader Sam’s

Instead of waking up SUPER early and racing to one of the parks, we opted for something slightly different this trip. We decided to spend a day outside the parks and actually take advantage of our beautiful resort. And holy moly, it was so worth it!

For breakfast, we decided to try one of the restaurants inside the resort, Boma - Flavors of Africa. Boma is my ideal type of buffet. It’s inside our resort, has amazing decor and ambiance, and features a nice mix of foods that you will most likely never make at home on your own. It was perfect. So much so that I found myself slightly overeating because I wanted to try EVERYTHING!

Eventually, we stopped shoveling food down our throats to pay and head to over to the pre-race expo at ESPN Wide World of Sports Complex! This is always my least favorite part of any RunDisney weekend. Why? Because it’s a bit time-consuming. In order to pick up your race packet, you have to option to either take a free bus to and from the expo which takes at least an hour OR you can suck it up and pay for a rideshare app which is roughly $30-$40 bucks. The only reason it wasn’t such a pain in my ass this time was because we’d already resolved to spend that poking around the resort and not going to a park, which I highly recommend! It took the time and stress out of going to the expo.

With the Expo behind us and nothing but time, we went back to Animal Kingdom Lodge to lounge poolside for a couple hours … something we RARELY do. I read a book. Norris listened to a podcast. And eventually, we actually took a dip in the pool. It was a great way to spend a few sunny hours of the day, but before we knew it was time to prepare for our early dinner reservation, Storybook Dining at Artist Point with Snow White!

And when it came time to dine, Snow and her crew certainly delivered. Storybook Dining was so much fun. Not only do you automatically get one of everything on the menu, making ordering a breeze. It’s a character meal that allows you to meet Snow White, Dopey, Grumpy, and Evil Queen. So if you’re going to take the time to dine, why not meet a few rare characters in the process. The only downfall to Storybook is the location. Being nestled inside a deluxe resort is great for people staying there, but somewhat of a pain for people traveling there specifically to dine. Just my own thought.

DAY THREE: Race Day and Magic Kingdom

As the sound of the alarm clock flooded our hotel room at 3AM the morning of the race, I experienced a feeling I’m all too familiar with … it’s the “why did do this? I could just not go” feeling. But after a more than a couple snoozes it was up and at em, as Norris and I choked down our bagels, slammed some orange juice, laced up our sneakers and hopped on a bus to the start line for Star Wars Rival Run 10K! Full disclosure: As much as truly enjoy RunDisney events, the super early start times make for an extremely long day whether you’re running 3.1 miles or 26.2 miles.

Lucky for us, we were only running 6.2 miles of fun, and by the time we finished, it was even still dark outside. During our race day adventure, we managed to encounter eight characters, stay together and finish under an hour, which is 100 percent a win in my book!

With time to spare before the parks opened, we hurried back to the resort to shower and change for our final full day. As we strolled through Magic Kingdom that last day, medals around our necks and feeling proud, I realized just how much I loved Walt Disney World. It’s a place where I can truly allow myself to be a kid again. Sure, the planning and the overall cost can be expensive, but concert tickets these days are about the same price as a park ticket and those only last a few hours. A park ticket is like a golden ticket and provides a full day of entertainment.

Still going but maybe a little tired from two FULL days, 6.2 miles of magic and a few thousand steps, we decided to venture toward Disney Springs one more time to visit our new FAVORITE restaurant, Chicken Guy. Seriously, we loved it. That “Nashville Hot Honey” sauce was and is DELICIOUS!

DAY FOUR: Departure

As the sun rose on our final morning, I gathered my belongings, checked in for the Magical Express to the airport, and mentally set my sights back on the Twin Cities. The ride to the MCO was sweet and simple since there were only a few of us on board. Initially, I thought about rushing through security so I could find a comfortable spot on the other side near my gate, but before I could fully say goodbye, there would be just one more stop — the Disney Store in the Orlando airport. I wasn’t planning on buying anything — I just wanted to be surrounded by items that brought me joy. I wanted to feel like Ariel swimming around her collection. Even though the weekend was fast and furious, I didn’t regret a single second. I knew our Star Wars Rival Run weekend was not just a good idea. It was the best idea!

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “It’s a Good Time” - Mickey Mouse

An Unnecessary and Unsolicited Guide to "Netflix and Chill"

At some point in our more recent history, society decided that “Netflix & Chill” was merely an idiom for hooking up. And back in the day when I was a single pringle, I certainly had no problem with this! But now that I’m way past my expiration date and 100% off the market “Netflix & Chill” suddenly means something entirely different. These days “Netflix & Chill” means I get to watch whatever I want and relax … COMPLETELY ALONE! While I’m extremely grateful to be in a happy relationship, it’s important to never underestimate the power of alone time.

When I first moved in with my S.O., I wanted to spend every day with him. And when he would go away, I would genuinely be sad to see him go, but now that we’ve been together for a while I realize we spend plenty of time together and it’s okay for us to do things solo. So what’s the first thing I do when he leaves … binge-watch ANYTHING and EVERYTHING! Sure, I binge watch television when he’s here, but it’s always random and there’s a weird level of compromise. It has to be something we both want to watch. So even though I would absolutely love to digest the delicious drama or sweet hilarity of whatever new show I’ve been told I need to enjoy at the moment, sometimes I have to wait a while to do it.

Lucky for me, my S.O. has been out of town for a few days, which means I have had the entire condo to my lonesome! Was I sad to see him go? 100 percent! I’m always a little sad to see him leave, but tonight I will be joining him in Walt Disney World for the tail end of his spring break, so it’s actually not too bad. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? (PS. Stay tuned for my first “Disney” related post in a couple weeks!)

Anyway, back to binging! With 1/2 out of the house, this meant I could come home from work and do whatever I wanted … and what I craved was a solid, well-planned night of food, wine, and trash tv! I had three glorious nights alone and I was going to make the most of them because there is truly something special when you have the perfect night of binging. People don’t seem to understand that a proper night of binging requires a balance of show, food, and drink.

That being said … I present my unsolicited, unnecessary and completely unqualified guide to proper binge-watching techniques!

BINGE-WATCHING A COMEDY:

If you’re going to watch something quick-witted and funny you need food and drink that match it. Comedies are often 20-30 minutes of humor that don’t always require a ton of deep thought and/or attention. For this type of binge-watching, I highly recommend pizza and beer/soda in a can or bottle. You want to be able to grab and go quickly and as necessary. Pizza doesn’t really require plates and it can sit on the table within reach all night long. And while beer and/or soda do require a refrigerator unlike many other drink options it doesn’t take too much thought to grab a can and crack it open. You can sit, watch and laugh for hours with a medium pizza and a six-pack … give or a take a pizza and six-pack depending on how many people are joining in on this binge session.

BINGE-WATCHING A NETWORK DRAMA:

I feel the need to specify “network drama” here because for me there is a difference. A network drama, for example; How to Get Away with Murder, American Horror Story, or This Is Us … have built-in commercial breaks which are PIVOTAL to this binge situation! In this scenario, you’re gonna wanna order food. Think Chinese, Thai, Italian, etc. and you’re wanna grab a bottle of wine or two or for you beer drinkers a nicer beer that maybe requires a glass. I personally would choose wine but to each their own. However, there are two key components to remember when going down this route; 1) Make sure to order the food early and wait for it to be delivered BEFORE you start watching! There’s nothing worse than getting to the best part of the show, and your phone rings because Daniel from Tony and Tina’s Tiny Italian Eatery is downstairs with your food. Ugh. So annoying! That’s why I say, have the food in hand before you press play.

2) Make a plate, pour your drink, and BRING THE REST OF THE BOTTLE WITH YOU! As the drama builds you’ve either given up on your food entirely or are completely finished with your plate, but guess what? You still want more wine, hence, BRING THE BOTTLE WITH YOU and pour when necessary. If you want to make yourself more food, that’s what those glorious built-in commercials are good for. That’s when you hit pause and help yourself to a second or third serving. That’s also a great time snag that pint of Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer and transition to dessert.

BINGE-WATCHING ANYTHING ON PREMIUM TELEVISION:

This is where things get a little tricky, and somewhat dependent on your particular needs and cooking abilities. With premium television (ie; HBO, Showtime, Starz, etc.) comedies are for sure in the 27-30 minute mark, dramas are at least 50 minutes, and in both scenarios, there are ZERO built-in commercial breaks. Once you hit play you’re either in it till the end or forced to find an awkward pause when you need a break. For this particular night of binging, this is when I suggest spoiling yourself a bit. Cook something (or order something) nice for yourself and find the inner mixologist deep down inside of you. Nothing pairs better with Big Little Lies, True Detective or even a few episodes of Barry or Curb Your Enthusiasm like homemade food and a delicious cocktail or mocktail. And if you do choose the cocktail option, be sure to make it strong! Chances are if you went through the trouble to make a such a delicious meal and cocktail … you’re gonna want to savor it slowly, because if you’re like me, you’re definitely not in college anymore so slamming a mixed drink is 100% out of the question. That being said, with these shows you won’t be in any particular hurry to jump off the couch. So this combination allows you to get nice and settled for the duration of the show. You can easily get another helping or make yourself another drink while the credits roll but before you press start on the next episode.

There you have it, folks … it’s my roadmap to a perfect night of “Netflix & Chill.” As for me, what did I choose to binge while the man was away? I hate to make myself a stereotype by saying I love Bravo, but let’s face it … I love Bravo! I’m a sucker for all the forced drama and janky relationships Andy Cohen shoves down our throats each night, and for years I’ve followed Bravo as they’ve struggled to find a show like the Housewives franchise, but not the housewives. Trust me, I’ve watched them all … Miami Social, 100 Days of Summer, Below Deck, Southern Charm, Shahs of Sunset … the list goes on! But recently Bravo launched their latest venture in unscripted reality, Mexican Dynasties, and saying I’m completely hooked is a gross understatement. So for the past 2/3 nights, I came home, popped a frozen pizza in the oven and cracked a cold one while I sat back and watched all my new friends live their best Bravo lives.

Fernando and Mari Allende, Bravo’s Mexican Dynasties

- Noah Lee Jordan (#WNN)

SONG OF THE BLOG (#SOTB): “Party For One” - Carly Rae Jepsen