Some adventures don't require a move

In the week and a few days that I've been in LA, my mind has bounced through so many potential blog topics that I really had no idea where to begin. The combination of that and my lack of internet in the apartment (STILL) had led to me slacking with updates of my grad school life. I realized today, though, that before I began describing the tremendous change in lifestyle that being in grad school has created, I had to post about something that was infinitely more important and life-changing than a move across the country. Maybe then (I'm thinking) everyone who reads this blog will fully understand my journey on the planet.

I am gay. Not only that, but I have a beautiful, caring, and intelligent boyfriend who I foresee an incredible future with.

It's funny, because before I came out about a year ago, I would casually type those words ("I am gay") at the beginning of my blog posts and delete them in a hurry - as if in the seconds they remained on the screen, some act of God would cause them to post to the internet. And suddenly everyone would know my dark, terrifying secret. But time and time again, I would type them...as if hoping someone would discover said secret and help me through the process of coming out.

Some of you reading this already know, or may have guessed. Others may either be blinking in astonishment, or muttering something along the lines of "Ohh Sh*t." So let's start at the beginning.

I realized I was different from a very early age - probably around 5 or 6 years old. At that time, I had no idea what homosexuality was, and I honestly wasn't too concerned about being different. My greatest concern at that time was probably getting cooties. Because no boy wants to get girl cooties at that age.

I can't recall exactly when I found out what being "gay" was, but I didn't make the connection to myself until much later. This may have been because I had not fully developed as a human being, and my physical attraction to others didn't progress beyond the clothes they wore. But I was still different - if not externally, then deep within myself. And soon after discovering what being gay was, I learned that it was not a trait to want for oneself. Being gay meant being a "fag", and being a fag meant being frail, odd, and unwanted. In middle school and the beginning of high school, if someone didn't like you (and wanted you to know it), you could bet they'd call you a fag. "What, are you gay?" they'd say, or "You homo!" So I think at this point, the combination of not understanding my differences and the desire to not be gay succeeded in burying any homosexual notion I had, at least for a few years.

Not to say that I didn't try to be myself. I loved being active, I loved science, art, and music, and I loved reading - and I lived out as many of those passions as I could. So throughout the end of high school, I was perfectly happy with my life, and also perfectly happy to ignore anything within myself that contradicted that notion. I ended up dating several girls - all who were good-looking, but also had incredible and fun personalities.

Starting college at the University of Maryland was like being hit with a new world. People from every walk of life, every color and gender and sexual orientation, had converged into this thriving metropolis of higher education. And suddenly I couldn't ignore that homosexuality existed. Some people may have discouraged or loathed its existence, but others were open and accepting. The idea of such a transformation in social atmosphere was a little unnerving, but still exciting.

Even with the new atmosphere, though, I had not fully made the connection of homosexuality to myself. I continued to date smart, fun, and beautiful girls and enjoy college for what it was - a party and an education. Then, starting junior year, I decided to pledge the fraternity known as Kappa Kappa Psi.

Pledging is a varied experience for different fraternities (or even amongst different chapters of the same organization). The process of pledging Kappa Kappa Psi at UMD is, without giving away too much about the process, both intense and introspective. I was forced to delve into myself and discover my true intentions in terms of school, music, service, brotherhood, and life in general. And after a semester's worth of self-assessment, I finally stopped pushing aside the prospect of my own homosexuality. Sometime in the months after my pledge process ended, I was able to look at myself in a mirror and say "I am gay."

Saying those three words aloud came with the crashing realization that 1.) I had a huge, possibly life-changing secret, and 2.) I eventually had to come-out to those I cared about if I wanted to truly be close to them. Although this sounds impossibly dramatic and exaggerated, this is exactly how I felt. What would happen when I came out to my friends and family? Would they reject me? How would I handle rejection? In the semester after pledging, I became both severely depressed and narcissistic. I was afraid that I'd lose everything that I loved and held dear, and various scenarios of my life falling apart played in my mind. It was almost as if I had some sort of terminal illness...would my friends fade away, unable to get this close to death? Would I be forced to start some new life of constant medication in a sterile environment? My mind formulated something equivalent to Murphy's Law of Coming Out - everything that could go wrong would go wrong, and with such terrific magnitude.

Eventually, I came to the conclusion that this was just a part of life (however tremendous), and I would need to push on if I ever expected to keep living. That summer before my senior year, I took an internship with General Electric in Cincinnati, and I took boxing and kick-boxing classes to prepare myself for the worst - which for now has turned out unnecessary, but was still fun. Entering my senior year, I was both physically ripped and toughened, and knew I could handle whatever came at me. So the hard part no longer became the possible violent bashing, but coming out to my friends and family. Which, honestly, was more terrifying than being hit with a crowbar.

If I had really paid attention in the past few years, though, I would've noticed that the group of friends I had assembled were not only tolerant, but caring and understanding. Still, coming out to my friend Ashley in the beginning of my senior year proved to be horrifying - and erratic, as she'll tell you (and I think was only possible with a few beers in my system) - but not 10 minutes later after blurting out my deep, dark secret, it was one of the most uplifting experiences of my life. And mildly hysterical.

The following months included multiple (and considerably less horrifying) coming-outs to my close friends, my fraternity and sister sorority, and my other school peers. And every time I came out to another friend, I was fairly well received. My dark theories of universes collapsing were put to rest, and I felt closer to everyone around me. The most difficult part of the process, though, still remained on the horizon...coming out to my family.

Coming out to my sister proved to be relatively easy. On a car ride home one day, with just her and I in the car, she casually asked who I had been texting so avidly. This was sometime in the beginning of the summer, and my relationship with my Nick (my boyfriend) was just blossoming - although we still texted like maniacs. I responded with "It's Nick." She glanced over from the wheel and then proceeded to ask who Nick was, to which I (rather sheepishly) replied "My boyfriend." From there, the conversation calmly dipped into my being gay and my relationship with Nick. My heart raced for the first 10 minutes of the discussion, but soon returned to normal. It was quick, painless, and - from what I had gathered - had no significant aftermath.

A month and a half later, as my stay at Maryland came to a close, I became incredibly anxious - this was my planned time to come out to my parents. And with my relationship with Nick becoming more serious, I wanted my parents to meet him before I moved across the country. A few weekends before my scheduled departure, I drove a portion of my apartment belongings home, with my true intention being to take the big plunge. This ended in utter failure, though, and I ended up driving back to UMD completely upset with myself and violently shaking with fear.

Nevertheless, I was determined to come out to them before the summer ended. Armed with the support of my boyfriend (and a good deal of patience, which I am incredibly grateful for), I drove another load of my apartment belongings back home. That weekend passed fairly uneventfully until it came time for me to depart back to Maryland, as I was due to work in my lab for one more week. Right before I left, I sat down with my parents in the kitchen and - with great difficulty, and the feeling that my heart was in my throat - I told them.

I think the greatest difficulty parents have (if they're loving and accepting parents, as mine are) is realizing that there was such a tremendous part to their child's life that they were unaware of, and that the part may have been causing their child grief. I imagine no parent wishes their child ill-will, and the fact that they were unable to do something to assist that child while they suffered in turn causes them to suffer. I could not imagine how this feels, but I have this to say to my parents:

**In raising me, you provided me with such an incredibly warm and caring environment. You created a life for me where there were no standards, and where I wasn't expected to turn-out one way or another. You were always supportive, and always loving. And while it may have taken me a while to tell you about such an important part of my life, it was only because I loved you so much, and I would never want to hurt you. I was scared that my coming out would cause you grief, but I failed to realize that the grief of coming out would only come from knowing that I had suffered.

Now, though, I want you to know all about my life. I want you to know how much I love my boyfriend, and how (while the idea may still be unfamiliar and therefore make you feel uneasy) I like to imagine us together in 5 or 10 years, a happy couple with a house, a few kids, and a dog. And when I finally have kids, I want to provide them with the same love and same supportive environment that you provided me.**

At this point, after coming out to my parents and friends, I see no need to hide. I freely invite people to read this blog post and to know. But I also offer a warning:

Some of you may become comfortable with the idea that spreading word of someone's sexual orientation is your right. But it is not. I have only given two people explicit permission to talk to others about my homosexuality, and it is in hopes that talking with others will help them fully understand what it means to have a gay son. Because, as what always happens with the telephone game, details become distorted and the full story is never relayed. And then discussion begins behind backs, and eventually someone is hurt.

While I have become tough and rather insensitive to that sort of talk, know that if those that are hurt include my parents or my friends, then you are as low, ignorant, and disgraceful to me as the KKK or the Nazi Party. I have no tolerance for those who gossip or judge, and I have no problem putting you in your place.

Threats aside, I ask that people direct others to this blog post if they have questions. Or (well this is a novel idea) why not ask me? What better way to find out then to ask the source.

Overall, while I think the process of coming out was both trying and arduous (at least for me), I know that I can and will continue living as I have, but with more confidence. Was I living a lie before? No. I had not been hiding a part of my personality, nor had I been masking things by being falsely macho. Being gay is not a lifestyle choice, but is instead an inherent part of my being that I will live with just as those that are inherently heterosexual live with being straight.

If you know someone who you suspect as gay, then I urge you not to pry. Simply provide them with an environment where they can tell you anything and know you will not judge, but fully support them. As human beings, we all deserve the same level of respect, kindness, and trust.

So, uh....the end? I sort of rambled throughout that entire thing, and now I have nowhere to go. Let the bells of truth ring, eh? Gnight everyone!

Hello LA

After flying over 2,500 miles across the US (with a stop in Kansas City), I officially arrived in LA to start my new life as a graduate student at USC.  Here's what's happened since I've arrived.

August 15th (fly-in day)

- Picked up my luggage from the baggage claim in LAX and managed to roll 3 suitcases, a pillow, and a backpack out to the taxi line.

- Took a taxi to my new apartment.  Called my manager to let him know I was on my way.  Manager doesn't pick up, so I leave a message.

- Arrived at apartment building, payed $75 for the taxi, and proceeded to call my manager again so he could let me into the building.  Still no response.  And now I'm standing on a sidewalk in LA with a whole lot of luggage and more than a few valuable items.

- Finally another tenant walks out the door and lets me in.  Now I proceed to call everyone under the sun that could possible contact my manager and wait in the apartment lobby.

- An hour later, my manager calls and explains how he "mentioned" that he doesn't work on weekends sometime in our earlier conversation, and that my move-in date wasn't until the 17th.  BUT given that he's such a nice manager, he'll send the plumber to get my leasing papers completed and my key to me.  The plumber.

- Another hour later, the plumber arrives and I sign my lease.  The plumber takes me to my apartment. 

- Throw my bags down, take everything out and have it sprawled out all over the floor, inflate bed, and then leave to find food.

- Take a bus out to Hollywood, walk around and see the sites, get food, and come home and pass out on inflatable bed.

August 16th

- Wake up at 8:30am west coast time.  Drink some Arizona Iced Tea I bought last night.  Shower and then head out for bicycle and apartment shopping.

- Find out that all local bike stores are closed on Sundays. Twitch slightly.

- Take a bus to the closest Target store, which is 3 miles away in WeHo (West Hollywood).

- Buy new Schwinn bike!  

- Also purchase window curtains, two 4ft window curtain rods, a shower curtain, cleaning supplies, and a toilet paper stand-holder-thing.

- Proceed to bike 3 miles back from Target with a backpack full of stuff, several Target bags, and two curtain rods.

- Eat at Jack in a Box, 3 blocks from apartment.  SO GOOD.

- Go to Walgreens, also 3 blocks from apartment, and pick up more mundane things.

- Bike 5.5 miles to USC campus with laptop in order to check email for the first time since Friday. Find out that wireless on laptop is NOT WORKING.  Die a little inside.

- Bike back to apartment, sit down on inflatable bed, and pass out.

August 17th

- Wake up at 6:30am.  Shower, dress, and out the door by 7 to bike to USC campus for orientation.

- Find out that orientation is 3 hours LATER than what was originally thought.

- Stumble into USC library, find a computer, and GET ONLINE.  Parts of soul that died earlier are now restored.

Annnnd that's about it.  I'll try to have some pictures posted when I...uh...have internet.  And can post things.

Hope everyone's doing well back east!

Breakfast of Galfenol Champions

Also called Magnetostrictive Nom Noms.

This summer I've been working in a lab on campus doing research with magnetostrictive materials - mainly, one called galfenol. A magnetostrictive material is one that changes shape when subjected to a magnetic field, or which produces a different magnetic field when its shape is changed. The applications for this type of material are endless, and my job for this summer has been to characterize galfenol's (an iron gallium alloy) magnetostrictive properties in terms of sensing and actuation so a model can be developed.

Annnnyway, the annual MURI review (a conference where engineers and scientists give seminars on their work with galfenol and other magnetostriction projects) has been taking place yesterday and today, and it's allowed me to listen to some particularly exciting seminars. And I also get free food. The combination of both is called a WIN. See below.


I'm sure this sounds awfully exciting to all of you, but it's actually incredibly interesting. One aspect of particular interest at this conference has been the utilization of galfenol nanowires. To visualize, imagine the diameter of a human hair. Now imagine about 90,000 tiny, tiny wires packed within that diameter. And imagine that each of those wires produce a magnetic field in a certain direction. Now, say either acoustic waves or a slight breeze pass along those wires. What happens? Well, they're not terribly stiff, so they bend. And suddenly the magnetic field direction changes. And tiny sensors (actually called "giant magnetoresistive sensors") can pick up this change in field. Suddenly, you have the opportunity to sense small changes in air flow or acoustic flow.

Looking for an example of this that already exists? Well, look no further than your ear. Tiny hairs in your ear, called cilia, vibrate at some resonant frequency and send electrical signals to your brain, which is processed as sound.

Interesting stuff, magnetostriction.


Also, LA Countdown: 11 days.