The plane lands safely in Amsterdam and Hazel, Augie and Ma grab a cab to the hotel. Confirming the American belief that all Europeans are immensely sophisticated, they happen to catch a ride with the world’s most philosophical taxi driver. He goes so far as to say: “Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom. And in freedom most people find sin.”

Whoa dude! Look, I just wanna get to my hotel okay?
“Life is a hotel. We only get to stay for a short while and the joy the mini-bar brings, is short-lived and over-prized.”
Jeez, okay, sure…

S. Crates drops them off at their hotel, The Filosoof, where all rooms are named after famous philosophers. They get assigned their rooms, Augie in a room named after a philosopher who isn’t Danish and Ma and Hazel in the Søren Kierkegaard room. I have to say I appreciate that Green (or most likely his editor) went through the trouble of finding the letter ø.

That night Augie and Hazel are going to dinner just the two of them. There is a whole bit about Hazel getting ready and what dress she is wearing and who cares.
When Augie comes to pick her up, they do the “OMG you look so beautiful/handsome” that romcoms have taught me is completely natural. Then Hazel ruins it by asking if Augie’s suit is the one he wears to funerals. Hazel you are the worst! Go join Britta in the ruiner’s club.

Augie takes Hazel on a public transportation ride (which is apparently a novelty) and the pair arrive at a nice restaurant where the hostess greets them as Mr. and Mrs. Waters. Clearly she needs her eyes checked because these are kids and kids are not very often married, even in Europe.
Anyway Mr. and Mrs. Waters have champagne for the first time (lol, legal drinking age) and marvel at the cyclists, the canals and the seeds falling from the trees. All in all a nice time. (Can I just say how generic European this description is. People biking, canals, public transport, “under age” drinking. All things I see in American media as distinctly European, but not specific to any place in particular.)

While enjoying the European-ness of the night they again touch on Augie’s sexy suit. It turns out it is not his funeral suit, but instead the one he was to be buried in if he had died. Hazel has a dress for the same purpose, but says she would never wear it on a date. Augie immediately pounces on the word “date” and Hazel basically goes “calm down there cowboy!”.

They eat delicious food and speak of what they believe comes after death. Hazel is halfway between nothing and something, but Augie believes death is not the absolute end. Yup, he is sick. Everything points to it; the argument with his mom, the spontaneity of the trip, the refusal that death is final. I wonder if he dies?

After that cheerful conversation, they find a nice bench to sit and talk on. Eventually Hazel asks about Augie’s dead ex-gf and it turns out that whole situation was horrible. Her brain tumour made her treat Augie like shit, but he says he can never be sure if it was the tumour or if she was just a horrible person in her core.
In the end, Augie lets Hazel know that he is happy to be there with her. Pure and simple.

Did Ma go party in the red light district? Will Hazel and Augie “accidentally” stumble into a coffee shop? When will they bone? Maybe next week!

The day of the flight to Amsterdam finally arrives and Ma is suitably (and adorably) excited. She wakes up Hazel by shouting “AMSTERDAM!”. I think I like Ma so much, because when she gets to be her own person and not just Hazel’s mom, she is very much like my own mum and my mum is awesome.

Hazel and Ma have been arguing about who gets the most room in their shared suitcase. The whole debate ends with each of them getting half, Hazel points out none of them win this way and the line “So it goes” is used. Is that a common expression in English? Because I have only ever seen it in Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5 so I instantly thought of that, but if there is supposed to be a connection I missed it. To me, the two books seem quite dissimilar. Did Green intend to reference Vonnegut or does “So it goes” have some other connotation?

Anyway, back to the book (briefly). Hazel wonders why some foods are inherently breakfast foods and I can totally get behind her in her quest for answers. I was wondering just the same the other day. Growing up in a non-american culture, but having so much cultural input from the U.S. can be strange sometimes. Take pancakes for instance. Pancakes for breakfast are weird!
When I was a child and I heard Americans ate pancakes for breakfast, I first thought it was a joke. When I realized it was very real, I thought the U.S. must be the most amazing place in the world. Dessert for breakfast; It seemed like a dream!
Then I had American pancakes for the first time and the dream burst like a soap bubble on a blade of grass. It was horrible.
I feel very strongly about pancakes and their place is not on the breakfast table.


Ma and Hazel hop in the car and say goodbye to Pa who is crying. Aw!
When they get to Augie’s house, he is in the middle of a screaming match with his mom. The words “Because it’s my life, mom. It belongs to me.” are heard and I suppose every teenager has said something similar at some point, but this sneaking suspicion I have had for a while comes creeping back.
I think Augie is sick.

All three of them get to the airport where people are staring at the limping boy and the girl with the air tank. This pisses both Augie and Hazel off. I get why, but it really should not.
When you are different, whether by choice or accident, people will take notice. It is what you decide to do with that attention that matters. Do you get angry? Do you use it as a stage? Do you accept that it is human nature to be curious?
Is it unpleasant whenever a small child asks me if I am a boy or a girl, or whenever a car full of young dudes zooms by the bar yelling “FAGGOTS!”, or when I am kicked out of a bar for kissing a girl while straight couples are almost having sex on the dance floor? Sure it is, but if I let myself get angry, I give it more value than it deserves and I refuse to let other people’s curiosity or stupidity steer my life.

I want to note that in this, the tenth chapter of the book, Hazel has started calling Augie by the nickname his parents use; Gus. I will not be following her example and I am sure I have on numerous occasions made my feelings about both names clear. That is all, thank you.

Augie, like an idiot, pulls out a smoke on the plane. A stewardess tells him “nuh-uh”. He makes an attempt at explaining the whole “cigarettes kill, but I won’t let them” thing, but she shuts him down. Stewardess: 1, Stupid metaphor: 0!

The plane takes off and Augie has apparently never flown before. He is excited and cute and I cannot help but recall my own first flight. (I was 11, it was from Copenhagen to Glasgow.)

Augie seems to have two distinct personalities. Hazel even mentions it here. There is the one she calls Augustus; He is the metaphorically smoking, cool acting young man. And there is the one she calls Gus who is easily excited by the joys of life, wondrous and playful like a child.
I wonder which one of the two decided to go to Amsterdam despite being sick?

Hazel and Augie watch movies on the flight, including 300 which is just not very good at all. Not even Lena Headey could save that mess.
The war, gore and bloodshed of 300 inspires a talk of how many people have died during human history. Turns out it is a whole lot and a really weird thing to think about.

Augie then makes Hazel recite a poem and she chooses the first stanza of a J. Alfred Prufrock poem. (I’m not even going to pretend I recognized the poem or even that I know who Prufrock is. Google ftw!) The part Hazel recites sounds like a love poem, but when I found and read the whole thing online, it seemed to be about being young, becoming old and finally dying. Cheerful!
At least Augie seems to thinks so, because he tells Hazel he is in love with her. The world is a horrible place and life ends in death, but he is in love with her.
Hazel’s only reply is “Augustus”, letting us know that this is one of his grand gestures and she would rather have heard Gus saying those words.

Will Hazel say those three little words? Will Gus? Will I ever get over my childhood pancake-related trauma? Chapter 11 might bring us the answers next week. (Probably not to the last question though.)

At the Big Cancer Meeting (which is possibly the single most depressing name for a gathering of people ever) where Hazel, all her doctors, Ma and Pa sit around and discuss what to do about her cancer, she is told that the medicine is keeping her tumors in check, but it will not be able to hold them in small Eastern European states for ever. (I am truly sorry! It is 3 AM here and I am ashamed of myself.) When talking of how they might deal with the fact, that her tumors are not growing, but not going away either, it is decided, that they will “Stay the course” which is doctor-speech for “We’ve run out of ideas, sorry.”
Hazel, for, I believe, the first time, is verbally not cool with just crawling into a corner and waiting to die like a sick cat. All it took was a hot boy and the promise of a trip to the red-light district. Really, Haze? Really?

Our girl Hazel has lived with the threat of imminent death for many years. I understand how that might make her apathetic and why she has to trivialize her illness and possible demise for her own sanity. However, her priorities seem pretty fucked up to me. Maybe I was just never a 16 year old, cancer-ridden straight girl and as such I can never understand. Maybe I’m just a jaded, grumpy, almost 29 year old who has forgotten what being 16 felt like. (Though I swear it was only yesterday.)

Once Hazel gets back home from Depresso-con ’12, Augie calls and she lets him know that the pot-fuelled tour de force of the red-light district might not happen, because her doctors do not want her to die. (Ugh, doctors! Am I right? So lame!) Augie decides to be a total creeper and says he should have just kidnapped Hazel after their Dutch picnic, put her on a plane to Amsterdam and have her die there by drowning in her own lungs. At least then he would have gotten laid. It turns out Augie, much like a certain Mr. Durst, does it all for the nookie (Yeah).
Augie admits he is a virgin and claims it is difficult to get some lovin’ when he is missing a leg. I am thinking he is just using the wrong approach. You do not want to go for the pity fuck, you want to use humour to make the one-leggedness less scary. “Hey girl, you are smokin’, but I’m afraid with someone like you, I don’t have a leg to stand on.” If I was Augie’s wing-woman he might have a limp, but he’d be ballin’ like a pimp. Just sayin’!


When it is time for beddy-bye-bye, Hazel has a new buddy. A machine called a BIPAP (Bilevel Positive Airway Pressure) that breathes for her so she remains alive. Pretty practical. The machine whirs, rumbles and hums and that makes her think of a pet dragon, which in turn makes me think of Lockheed, Kitty Pryde’s dragon. Yay Lockheed!

The following day Hazel sits in the garden looking at her old swing set. She muses on how she does not want her cancer to kill her before she is dead and yes, finally, thank you! Our heroine has at last decided to live! Maybe she will give up trying to “minimize her crater” or whatever and get her mack on with the Augster. Dude could use some sugar, even if he is a little creepy.
Speaking of Augie, he comes over and the pair decide that the swing set is depressing as fuck and needs to go. I was hoping for a smashy-crashy-trashy bit of destruction, but instead they put it on Craigslist. They have a bit of fun (and manage to make me laugh as well) while coming up with the text for the ad. While waiting for replies, Augie reads aloud from AIA and Hazel falls in love.

After a healthy night of sleep with trusty Lockheed by her side, Hazel wakes up to an email from Woody’s assistant. Simply put they are both excited to see Augie, Hazel and Ma in Amsterdam the following week. Hazel shouts Ma to her side, Cartman style. Ma comes running in wearing only a towel, seems she was trying to relax with a nice bath and my heart breaks into tiny little pieces. So far Ma is my favourite character.
Anyway, the trip is back on and as Hazel is texting Augie, he is already planning how he is going to burn his V-card like it was a draft card in 1967.

Will Ma ever get to relax? Will Lockheed join them on their trip to Amsterdam? Will Augie out-creep himself? I don’t know, but let’s find out immediately. Yes immediately because chapter 9 is tiny and you guys are so nice so I’ve decided to do a double feature this week.
Onwards to chapter nine!

Hazel is back in Sucky Cancer Youth Group Therapy after a long absence. One kid has died and there are some new faces. Nothing much really happens apart from Isaac and Hazel joking about him being blind now and him inviting her over once SCYGT is done.

They play a video game that is only sound and which is voice controlled. I guess it is not really a video game if there is no video… They play an audio game and it seems kind of fun. Having to make up the images in your mind sounds cool and I guess the endless graphics debate is moot. I am on board with the audio game!

Isaac inquires about Hazel’s feelings for Augie and we are again back at the “Not leaving an impact” BS. I feel I have made my feelings very clear on that issue so I will not discuss it further.

Aaaand that is all for chapter nine, told you it was a short one.

Will they ever fucking make it to Amsterdam? Is there an audio games e-sports scene? If so, how do I get started? Guess we will see about that next week. Ta ta!

With a scream of pain Hazel wakes her parents and they rush her to the hospital. Calm down, do not panic, I mean, we are only a third of the way through the book. I would be surprised if the protagonist died already.
And I am right, it was fluid build-up in Hazel’s lungs that  caused the ragnarokian headache. Once she has been drained and hung up to dry for a bit, she is just fine.

A nurse lets Hazel know that Augie has been hanging around the waiting room, but all Hazel has the strength to ask, is whether he has seen her in her sick state. She seems satisfied that he has not. (Yeah she’s so over him!)
The two do however see each other briefly when Hazel is discharged. There is only time for a minimal amount of sarcasm and the handing over of another message from Van Houten. This time it is in old-school letter form.

The letter is addressed to Augie and it seems he has been complaining to Woody about how Hazel has decided to diminish her impact on Augie’s life. In response Woody tells Augie that he cannot change Hazel’s mind by force and that it would be wrong for him to try. Naturally Woody uses two Shakespeare quotes and a bunch of fancy words to get that message across, but all the same that is basically the message.

Hazel lets her parents know that she is intent on getting to Amsterdam and Woody. Even this whole lung-fluid ordeal cannot hold her back, but first she will have to get the A-OK from Doc Maria.

Will Doc Maria let Hazel go to Amsterdam? Will Woody beat his own high score of three Shakespeare references in one letter? Will Hazel’s fluid issue be a forewarning of a terrible flood in the Netherlands? On Wednesday we will know more!

Hazel tells her mom about the whole Amsterdam trip Augie has planned, but Ma needs a bit of convincing. She’s not immediately enthusiastic about her 16½ year old daughter flying off to Europe with some boy she has only met once. Hazel’s mom seems pretty reasonable to be honest.
After consulting Hazel’s doc, it is decided that Ma will join the teenagers in their travels. Significantly lowering the chances of any STDs or foetuses contracted on this Amsterdam trip. Hazel’s dad is to be left home alone to eat pizza and masturbate furiously. (Oh shut up, it is totally implied).

Hazel mopes about how she pussied out when Augie went to caress her face at their Dutch picnic. It seems like she found the whole thing a bit too scripted and unnatural. She decides to act her age and gender and calls up her BFF Kaitlyn to talk about boy problems.
Kaitlyn actually gives sound advice. (Colour me surprised!) She also knows exactly who the boy, whose identity Hazel deliberately keeps vague, is. All she needs are these three facts:

  1. He is a basket ball player
  2. He goes to North Central (which is a really weird name. How can something be north and central at the same time?)
  3. Hazel met him at Sucky Cancer Youth Group Therapy

Kaitlyn’s take on the situation is, that maybe Hazel is not as into Augie as she thinks. Maybe when she flinched at his touch, her subconscious was warning her that they might not be compatible.
Then, like everyone who has ever asked for advice, Hazel promptly ignores it and comes to her own conclusion: that she is afraid of hurting Augie.

Hazel looks up Augie’s dead ex-gf on Facebook. (I would do the same. I’m nosy as fuck!) She reads comments from her friends and lurks through her pictures. Turns out Hazel and Dead Ex look quite a lot alike. Augie, dude, come on…not cool, man, not cool!
Hazel gets all bent out of shape over a recent post from one of Dead Ex’s friends.

“We all miss you so much. It just never ends. It feels like we were all wounded in your battle, Caroline. I miss you. I love you.”

She tries to suppress the feeling, that the exact same post could so easily be splashed across her own Facebook page by someone like Kaitlyn.

At dinner Hazel cannot get the post out of her head. She feels like a time bomb and when her parents press her on why she seems absent, she lets them know.

“I’m like. Like. I’m like a grenade, Mom. I’m a grenade and at some point I’m going to blow up and I would like to minimize the casualties, okay?”

Hurting as few people as possible might seem noble to Hazel, but here is the thing: Life will out!
Not just biological life, like how roots can grow through solid rock to find water, but also our lives. They demand to be led, to be experienced. So even if we, when we die, we leave behind us a crater of despair, we must not let that stop us from living our lives.
In short: Life is a gift, do not dare squander it out of fear!

Hazel, unfortunately, is adamant that she will leave as tiny a crater in her wake as possible. So she texts Augie that they cannot do kissies because she will only end up hurting him.
Has that ever deterred anyone? The last time a girl used that line on me, I jumped in head first anyway. And yeah I ended up getting hurt, just like she promised me, but when you have a crush, you have a crush. End of story.
And Augie is no different from me. He deflects the text like a pro; with humour.

Hazel’s parents come to speak with her and they are great. They say all the right things, like how Hazel is no grenade to them, she’s amazing, every moment is a blessing. All that jazz.
They leave her to get some sleep and she does until she wakes up with an insane pain in her membrain.

Has hazel contracted Dead Ex’s brain cancer? Will Ma and Pa ever get more personality than “Perfect parents”? Will Augie give up on Hazel and find another girl that looks like his dead ex-gf? We’ll have to wait till Wednesday to find out.

P.S. I think there was a reference I didn’t understand. Hazel’s dad calls her twitterpated and she mentions she’s not a bunny. What’s the connection there? Apart from breeding like rabbits, is there another saying about bunnies falling head over heels for they fellow rabbit kin? What am I missing?

Augie hasn’t called in a week and Hazel believes it is his turn, because she called him last time. Dude, this is precisely why I am single. I do not understand all those weird rules of flirting. I do not get the point of them either, if I want to talk to someone, I will call them up. Easy as that. Hell, I pulled my last girlfriend with the incredibly romantic line “I want you and I get what I want!”. That actually sounds pretty rapey now that I think about it…

Anyway Hazels’ life goes on: friends, school, dinners with ma and pa (who is apparently still around. I was kind of hoping for a stereotypical dead-beat dad.).
It is during one such dinner that Augie finally calls. He and Hazel talk about AIA and how they both assume Anna died and that was why the book ended so suddenly. Because that is what death does. It snuffs out life at a moment’s notice and does not bother wrapping everything up nicely.

After Hazel’s many failed attempts at contacting Van Houten, the author of AIA, Augie has gone and managed to make contact on his first try. Either Hazel is just useless or she really was not trying that hard.
Augie has received an email from Van Houten in which he uses a lot of really fancy words to say “Nope, I haven’t written anything else, nor will I, but thanks for your nice email.” My guess is, that Van Houten is supposed to seem like some crazy intellectual or maybe Green just wanted to show off his mad Scrabble skills?

By the way, my Dutch is basically non-existent, but I am pretty sure houten means wood or tree. Fictional author named Wood, actual author named Green. Coincidence? Quite possibly. Now back to the story!

Hazel gets the email address from Augie and spends a couple of hours writing another letter asking for answers to what happened to everyone except the protagonist. Again she asks about the damn hamster!
I really hope Woody writes back saying “Anna didn’t die, maybe you should cheer the fuck up kid!”

Augie and Hazel do the “talk till late at night” thing that is so incredible when you have a crush. Augie mentions his ex-gf Caroline, she is dead, presumably from cancer. Jeez! These kids just cannot catch a fucking break!

Speaking of catching breaks; Isaac is seemingly cancer-free. Now that he has no eyes left for there to be cancer in. Yay? Hazel goes to visit him at the hospital after his eye-removal ceremony. He is more broken up about the heartless bitch formerly known as his numb-boobed ex-gf. I get it. Heartbreak must be much more palpable than being blind all of a sudden. It seems a very human response to me.

A reply from Woody ticks into Hazel’s inbox and it is slightly less prose-heavy than his first email. He explains that he can give her the answers she craves only in person, so she would have to go to Amsterdam. My first thought was “well that’s not too far away” then “oh wait, she’s in the U.S., nevermind”.

The next bit is all about how Hazel’s family is financially ruined because of her treatment. I will spare you the snarky comments about free healthcare we’ve all heard a million times.

A few days later, Augie shows up to take Hazel on a picnic. He does the whole “meeting the parents” horror show (and does is extremely well I might add) and they are off.
Off on a magical Dutch-themed picnic, with the sole purpose of Augie declaring his intention of using his wish foundation wish on taking them both to Amsterdam to meet Woody. I have a gnawing sense they won’t make it.

Will their plane crash? Will they try the marijuanas and OD? Will Augie’s prosthetic leg get caught in the luggage belt and drag him under? We will see!

I first came out of the closet some 12 years ago. (I say “first” because coming out is not something you do once. It is something you do over and over again your entire life.) In those 12 years I have been asked many questions about my coming out and sexuality in general. Some have been very personal, some weird and some I have been asked many, many times until I developed the ability to recognize the pattern leading up to them and mentally prepare myself to answer yet again.

One such question is “What happened when you came out?”. As you can imagine, that is quite a tricky question to answer briefly. Often I just shrug it off with a short, insufficient answer of “not much really”, so as to not get caught up in a long discussion about religion, genes, mutants, plastic figurines and chainsaws.

But today! Today is the day! This Tuesday in March is the day! This is the day I will attempt to go where no other has gone before. I will reveal secrets so secret, you did not even know you were supposed to not reveal them (if you know them that is). Today, I will explain, in great detail (because, hello my name is Neo and I can turn a simple sentence into an eight line paragraph with at least three parentheses) what happens when you come out of the closet.
There is a but though. (There always is.) Before I can give such an explanation, I must try to make you understand what happens before someone comes out. The lead up to this momentous decision in incredibly important, less so to everyone else, but very much so to the person actually saying the word “Hi World, I am hella freaking _____________(Insert LGBT subtype here)”.

So, without any further ado, let me get to explaining what it is like growing up as an LGBT kid*
*Your experience may vary.

At first you are a child like any other. You play and laugh, get in fights and fall off your bike, get scolded and comforted by people who love you unconditionally. All of this is as natural as the sunrise.

At some point during your childhood, you realize you are different from other kids. You might not know or understand how, but you just know. Somehow things are not quite as they should be. You will try to ignore this feeling. To suppress it and go on with living your life. It will work for a while, but the feeling that something about you is off somehow will keep resurfacing. It is as much a part of who you are, as your measles scars and the illogical safety your covers and favourite stuffed animal give you when you awake from a nightmare.

As you grow older, you begin to get a better sense of your self. There are things you are good at and things you cannot seem to get the hang of. In school some courses are easy, some hard and some people you get along with, some you do not. You have hobbies and friends who share them. All these things feel natural, but soon a new factor comes into your life.
Your peers start talking about the other sex in a way different from what they used to. With a sense of discovery and fear, boys and girls each try to make sense of their feelings for the other.

As with everything in life, some figure it out faster than others. You however do not seem to understand anything at all and now that nagging feeling you try to keep buried at all times comes back with a vengeance. You are unsure whether or not your lack of romantic interest in the other sex and the wrongness you have felt for so long are connected, but it seems possible. You lump them together and again try lock them away in your mind.
Still you worry. You cannot stop yourself from thinking about them and the more you think, the more the two seem to become connected. You start to see them as symptom and cause of what is wrong with you.

Soon enough you learn about people who are different the way you might be different. At first there are nasty, derogatory words thrown around the schoolyard as insults and these give you the impression that different equals disgusting. In an effort to distance yourself from what you think you might be, you may even use the same nasty words. Later in life you will rationalize that you did not really know the meaning of the words or that you were just playing along so as not to lose face. These rationalizations will not make you feel much better about it.

Slowly and with the help of some sex-ed or maybe a crush on someone your own gender, you will come to understand that you are most likely some version of gay. This will seem like the end of the world. Luckily, it is not, but what are you supposed to do with this information?
Your immediate instinct is to follow the queen’s suggestion of “Conceal, don’t feel”. You hide it and try your damnedest not to feel the way you do. You guard your secret like it is the launch code for all the nuclear missiles of the world.

While you are busy hiding yourself away, you realize that it is impossible to stay this way. You are immensely unhappy and there are a myriad of thoughts you are scared to even think. You have become a prisoner in your own mind. That is no life and no way to live.

In the end you decide to come out.

The  moment you make that decision and start planning how and to whom, an automated process is set in motion in a far away and incredibly secret location.

Somewhere, in an enormous warehouse, a computer bleeps (as computers tend to do). A label with your name and address in printed and stuck to the side of a brown cardboard box. The box, still empty of everything but air, travels down a conveyor belt from the office that holds the bleeping and label-printing computer, into a cavernous and dim space.
This room is a maze of shelving units that seemingly reach the sky. The conveyor belt runs a zig zag course between them and each is equipped with a sign and strange robotic arms.
The air is thick with the smell of oil, hot metal and dust, but the box notices none of this, since it is merely a box.

As your empty cardboard box slowly descends into this room, it first comes to a section of shelves filled with uniform green cartridges about the size of a deck of cards. The section is marked “Standard Equipment”.
A robotic arm stirs from its artificial slumber, grabs a green cartridge and dumps it unceremoniously in your cardboard box. The conveyor belt whirs pleasantly as in scoots the box onwards through the maze of sections, shelves and artificial appendages of this truly massive facility.
In some sections the robotic arms seem to disappear in a blur of activity with all the many things they peel from the stacks. In some sections they pick only a few items and in others still they remain eerily motionless, ignoring both the box and everything on the shelves.

Your cardboard box rolls merrily along through sections with signs labelling them things like “Lesbian”, “Vietnamese”, “MTF”, “Sporty”, “Polyamorous”, “Bottom” and countless more. Once it clears the very last section (I believe that is “Hindu”), it is closed, taped up, weighed, marked with sufficient postage and finally put in to a large bin with an “Outgoing packages” sign above.
Soon your very own Coming Out Starter Kit™ is in the mail and en-route to your home.

You might be thinking “Well that sounds neat, but what can I expect when it gets here?” The Coming Out Starter Kit™ contains things to help you move forward in your life as an LGBT person and as a person in general. What those things are will differ greatly depending on many factors of who you are, what you like and where you live. As such every Coming Out Starter Kit™ is unique, because we, as human beings, are unique.

That being said, here is a look at the very first thing added to your cardboard box. The green “Standard Equipment” cartridge is a basic upgrade to your person, initiated at the moment of your first coming-out.
It contains:

  • 1 full size set of thick skin
  • 6 months to 1 years worth of an extreme wish to talk about the fact that you are _____________(Insert LGBT subtype here)
  • 1 permanent wish that people would see beyond fact that you are _____________(Insert LGBT subtype here) to the person you actually are.
  • 1 Gaydar™ – Beta release (Tech support no longer available, no updates scheduled)
  • An unlimited supply of thoughts that you ought to care more about LGBT issues.
  • 1 burning wish to find others who are  _____________(Insert LGBT subtype here) like you.

In some cases your Coming Out Starter Kit™ may not reach you or it may contain the wrong equipment. All you can really do in that case, is make do. I wish you luck.

I hope this answers any and all questions anyone may have about what happens when someone comes out of the closet.
(This blog post is sponsored by The Coming Out Starter Kit Cooperation. “Out, Proud and Well-Equipped since Before Sappho got Sapphic”)