I'm Letting Go

how do you do it?

2011-09-30T20:03:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, after a customer commented on my new tattoo, I realized that I am growing up to be the person I wanted to be when I envisioned growing up. I have tats and piercings. I go to college and frequent my favorite coffee shop. My pants haven't fit my waist since I was seven, and I have the body to pull off LOW rise jeans. There are a few things that still don't work with my 15-year-old version of my 34-year-old self, but I'm getting there.

One huge component is how I live and raise our kids. I live a very modest life. My rent is my biggest bill and I gladly pay it because I love the home I have made this house into. The kids go to a laid back "hippie" school, it's a Steiner school, for anyone who wants to know. They are versed in all forms of art, music, drama and get to play in the sunshine, rain, snow mud and anything in between. They play sports and Number 3 is joining the Earth Scouts this month. I work only three days a week and go to school five days a week. My loans pay for most of my expenses right now. I weighed the consequences of taking out so much money to the benefit of being able to concentrate on my school work and, most important to me, being able to be with the kids.

My friend emailed me today and asked for advice. She is thinking about quitting her job and working from home. She's scared to death and asked for tips on how to do it. Without too much thinking this is the advice I gave her:

Sheer will, perseverance and faith that you can do it. Honestly, I'm not sure how I do anything anymore. I just believe that I can, take what comes and own it; good or bad. That doesn't mean I don't struggle, cry, scream, give up or complain, but at the end of one of those moments, I wipe my snot and remember that I have felt like giving up before and it's all worked out.

Most of the time, my plans are basic, not thought through. I'm not sure if that's good because I don't have expectations or bad because if I don't really have a plan, then I really don't have a back-up plan. Except I do have a back-up, I suppose. It is faith in my convictions, faith that, once again, I will be okay, faith that I am supposed to be where I am right now, no matter where it is. This isn't based in religion or God, just belief in magic, I guess. The magic in me.

I guess what I am saying is super-cliche, but follow your heart. Do what's right for you. In my case that meant breaking apart my family, losing my home and my car, leaving my friends and living without running water for 7 months. And that doesn't include what I have done to keep my relationship with Tris thriving. I believed that leaving [the kids dad], so many years ago, was what my heart was telling me to do. I believe that doing everything in my power, without giving up myself, is what I have to do for my romantic relationship. I believed that moving to Flagstaff was the best choice I could make for my family.

On my hard days, and I do have them, I remember what I believe. I make a list of the things I am grateful for and do not pause to mourn the things I have lost in my journey. If working from home is what you want to do, I support you. You may have to make a list of the things you are willing to give up to make that dream come true, but if you are willing to put them on the list in the first place, then you are probably willing to part with them. Simplifying my life was the best thing I have ever done, but that is just me. I know you will take the next step in the direction your life will take, just be willing to accept whatever direction that is.

Oh. And I make my bed every day because there is subtle satisfaction in doing one little thing for myself, even if the rest of my day is devoted to everyone else. (I learned this from my friend, Katy. In fact, she practically made me make my bed every day. Now, it's a habit and I relish in the fact that I get to slide into tight sheets every night. )

I retyped this mostly for myself. This is what I tell people and what it probably true, but from my perspective, I am only doing what I have always done. Maybe it's ordinary, maybe extraordinary, maybe it's just mi vida loca. Anyway you see it, I make my life the way I want it because, to me, there is no other option. I hope you are realizing your dreams and not letting fear hold you back from the reality that could be yours if you just jump. So plug your nose, when you are ready, and be prepared for whatever temperature that water is when you hit.

talk to me about love

2011-09-01T12:54:00.000-07:00

talk to me about love. there are different kinds of love.

there’s the love of a child for a parent. it is reverential, mystic, magical, necessary, obligatory. it grows with awareness, shrinks with stubbornness, then grows again with age and understanding.

likewise, the love of a parent for a child is obligatory, sacrificial, educational, so strong it can break a soul, and mostly unconditional.

friendship love is different. there’s no obligation, no ties that bind, in every moment, a choice is always present to continue loving. you can choose to sacrifice for her, be loyal to her, turn your back on her when she’s wounded, suffer through a loss with her, or feed her soul.

the love you can give to a partner is much the same, by choice. sometimes we feel morally and legally bound to suffer with and sacrifice for our lovers. sometimes we just want to; maybe for comradery, martyrdom, self punishment, empathy, sympathy, or simply because we don’t know what else to do.

all of this may (or may not) lead to love for self. love for self should be, well, selfish. there should be no comprise, sacrifice, obligation. it should always be unwavering, magical and even reverential.

there is a price to pay for other loves; and it’s mostly self love. compromise. you give a little of you, she gives a little of her; and not even at the same time. who’s the score keeper of comprise? the one with the resentments? do you have resentments because you are keeping score or are you keeping score because of your resentments?

wants and needs of a loving relationship...is there a difference? do you really need her to sleep by your side most nights? or do you just want her there? it’s nice to be warm, comforted, safe and companioned, but it is possible to fall asleep without her. do you need her to help with daily life? or do you just want her there to share in the joys, work, rewards and sorrows of family life? of course you want her there, but as proven before, she doesn’t have to help in order to get the job done. do you need her to answer the phone in a crisis? or do you just want to hear her supportive words and strong voice? the crisis will pass regardless.

do you stay in a love that is heartbreaking at the worst of times and soul changing at best, even if her soul is closed for renovations for a while? or do you choose to overlook that her soul and yours have been intertwined since heaven? when her eyes looked into yours for the first time, they read your fears and dreams. when her hand touches your body, measurable electricity is created. when she laughs, you know there has to be a God. when she cries, your heart tears open. when you make love, you know there is a possibility world peace. can you overlook these things?

you can choose to walk away. you can choose to find another, who will be all these things that she is not, but may also bring a new set of wants to the relationship. you can let go of all those what-if questions and move on. or you can keep them and wonder for the rest of your separated lives. will you always think of her when you walk into the forest? or feel her hand on your hip when a warm breeze blows your shirt? will you always feel her touch in another’s caress? smell her in a foreign place? will you always long for her arms to protect you in their strong embrace? will you remember how you fit into the c shape of her body when you two curled into each other and gave into asleep? will you regret it? or will you forget all about it?

would it be easier to never have loved her or anyone for that matter? would it be better to live an isolated life, void of any kind of love; distanced from all with the potential to love?

all love changes a person. all love is painful. all love is a choice, in the long run. what will you choose?

fifteen months

2011-07-19T09:53:00.000-07:00

I have been dealing with alcoholism and all the behaviors that accompany it for a little over a year. I have loved my alcoholic for over two years, but did not recognize the alcoholism for almost a year. It's quite a touchy subject to write about because some of you who follow know the person that I am effected by. I have wanted to share my story for a long time, but I know that I have to be in a non-emotional space in my head to do that. It seems that today may be that day. The purpose of this post is not to bitch about my life, it is to enlighten everyone, whether or not you are affected by alcoholism.

Being consistently drawn to people afflicted with the disease of alcoholism is a disease in itself. It is a form of co-dependency. Co-dependents often feel the need to help anyone and everyone, even, and maybe especially, when they don't ask for help. For me, in the beginning of this current relationship, I would just pop up with lunch when she didn't have any. I would research some herbal way to get her through some medical ailment, then purchase the supplies. I would take charge of her recovery, when she decided that going dry was a good idea. All of this I did without her asking. I felt that I anticipated her needs and hat made me a good girlfriend. I ignored the problem, then I stressed about it. I paid for doctors visits, before we were serious. (Let's be real, we were serious from the beginning, after all, we are lesbians!) Then I played the victim. I do all this for her and she can't even stay sober at such and such event. I hold her barf pan and stay up all night making sure she doesn't die of alcohol poisoning and she can't even (insert whatever I felt she should be doing here..) I felt entitled to be listened to and have my advice followed because I did all these things for her.

Then one day, after almost a year being together, but only a few months of feeling inadequate and less important than alcohol, it clicked. She has a problem with alcohol. My dear friend had been telling me this for a while now, but I didn't listen. I made many excuses for her behavior, another symptom of my disease. I lied to myself and to others. She only over-drinks on the weekends, she only really drinks beer, I've only seen her drunk only a handful of times and so on. I began talking to others living with/in alcoholism. Their stories were mine, although some were not. My alcoholic is quite functioning compared to others. (Even now, I feel the compulsive need to defend her. She's a good person. Those that know her can attest to that, those of you who don't can just take my word for it.)

I decided to seek help for me to deal with her problems. Can anyone see the problem there? I made a decision to be completely honest with my councilor, which seems like the logical thing to do, but I had gone to see a councilor before, but only told half the story. During the intake, after only an hour, L, the councilor, told me that I was co-dependent and that I was most likely in a relationship with an alcoholic. I was freaking out. I kept saying "I can hang out alone. I can go to the movies, out to eat, to the bar, and whatnot, alone". I came home and relayed the info to a friend who confirmed with a "Duh!". Friend after friend said the same thing. They were all wrong. They had to be.

Upon insistence from L, I read Facing Love Addiction, by Pia Mellody. Are any of you familiar with the 5 stages of grief? Stage one is shock and denial. I was shocked that there was something wrong with me! Afterall, I went to the councilor to get a diagnosis for her! Then I quickly accepted and five minutes later, I denied it again. This has happened continuously throughout my 15 month journey. I was even in a state of denial last week. Stage five is acceptance. I would say that I am there...most of the time. Owning up to my shortcomings has been extremely humbly and sometimes even makes me feel a little self righteous, because I can see my addiction in others so quickly.

I started going to Al-Anon meetings. Al-Anon is a twelve step program based on Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). I have been slow and thorough going through my steps. Just as I committed to honesty with my councilor, I also committed to honesty within the program. I am not going to push Al-Anon on anyone. It's not perfect, neither is anyone who goes to meetings. We all have short-comings, we all fall back into our holes of self-pity and self-righteousness and we all still enable our fellows to depend on us. The difference is that now, I see my shortcomings, I can crawl out of my hole faster and sometimes even sidestep the hole in the first place and I recognize my enabling and ask for help to contain it. I don't take on the world, only biting off what I can comfortably chew. It feels good to be in those rooms. I can be myself, in all my sadness and joy.

I also attend an AA meeting once a week. Hearing the stories of recovering alcoholics gives me hope. They still struggle. Even though the disease is under control, they still have it. I have seen women I love fall in and out and, humbly, back in to recovery. I have heard the stories of debauchery. I have been to some of the places they describe with my alcoholic. I find hope in that room that recovery, mine and hers, will be in our home someday.

She still actively drinks. I am not ready to give up on her, although I sometimes think life would be easier without her in it. All I can do is continue to get some sort of recovery myself. When I feel the angriest or lowest is when I have to force myself into those rooms. When I am happy and have joy to spread, I need to be in the rooms, because there may be someone who is at their lowest who may see me and feel hope, as has happened to me. I am not cured, not even close. I have not even begun to dig deep, but healing is beginning to happen for me. I feel an ounce of strength and hope today and that is better than yesterday.

Thank You!

2011-03-29T15:23:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't written on this blog, or any of my others for that matter, in forever, but I am grateful to everyone who follows my rambles.

Moving has been a little rough. More than a little I guess since I haven't even been able to write, but today the sun is shing and I can smile. My friend Leaner, who comments frequently on this blog had her third lovely baby this morning. It was a home birth. Congrats to you, love, and I wish you and your family my very best. I can't wait to read your birth story. I wish I could be there to meet little N!

Pushing for positive. I may be boring and non-emo for a while. Well, let's hope so. This is my life afterall and I can make it whatever I want.

Status Update

2010-12-13T18:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I want my status update to say, "Hating myself right now." But I don't really want to hear from people regarding that. I just want to get it off my chest. Not really loving myself lately. Feeling like all I do is not really right. It's wrong in fact. Except that I know I do things that are good and right, but I let the screw ups over shadow them. I haven't been like this in a long time. It's a familiar, sickening feeling. Unwelcome and uncontrollably here. I am 33. Shouldn't be in control of my emotions by now? Shouldn't I be able to resist the urge to cry? I feel like a damn teenager.

In Silence

2010-11-16T19:42:00.000-08:00

That's how I spend much of my week. I keep my mouth shut and my ears open. I learn about the people around me simply by listening. I still make judgements, but I don't do it out loud as often. In my silence, I listen to my own inner voice. I really pay attention to the thoughts in my head. I rationalize in a more rational manner. Being silent has it's draw backs. I question myself regularly. That's a very uncomfortable place for someone who is always right to be in. I make peace with myself more often and more quickly now. In a way I mourn the loss of my silence during the weekend. Alone, but not lonely. Ok with myself. What a place to be.

The Next Right Action

2010-09-15T23:04:00.000-07:00

It has become apparent that I am the cause, root and be all end all of my problems. No surprise right? But nobody likes to look at themselves and acknowledge that. I did and now I am confessing it to all of you. I am it. I make my problems. I solve them, in by no means the best way possible, but with the only tools I have ever known.

Some words one never wants to hear, "I love you, but I don't know how to feel. You make me feel so guilty." And I do. I have done it to all my lovers. The only tool I have to fix that is silence. I just won't talk about it. That way the other person thinks all is peachy, while I struggle to convey my feelings without anyone feeling guilty. That actually doesn't work either, but what else do I have?

This isn't a poor me post. I am responsible for making men feel small, pissing off all of my relatives and pushing away my girlfriend. Just me. Not her. Not anyone else.

So tell me, what is the next right action?

changes

2010-08-10T01:20:00.000-07:00

It's been a month of intense changes, true honesty, heartbreak, love, friendship and decision. We are doing well. Al-Anon is working out for our family, for me. I have a sponsor and I am working on working the steps. There are preparations that need to be done first; mainly reading reading reading.

She and I have had some amazingly emotional days. She supports me and my quest for health without admitting a problem herself. I question whether it really is a problem or not. I liked being in the dark and ignorant bliss almost as much as I am beginning to like being upfront and honest with her and myself. She is my life, my grown up life. We have the boys. We are a family.

She is taking a job in far far away land; like four hours away land. The kids and I are moving to two hours from here, two hours from her land. We chose this place to be closer to making our dream of homesteading a reality. I will continue to go to school, a slightly different major, or should I say majors? Forestry coupled with an applied environmental science. It's a good place for me to be.

I am scared shitless about selling my house. It is worth nothing and I did nothing to deserve a house worth nothing. I bought before the big housing boom, I read my paperwork, I knew what my budgetary limits were, I paid on time every month and I am the one being royally screwed. For NOT screwing up! On top of the "housing crisis", I have to contend with my hispanic neighbors, nearly 90% of my neighborhood, fleeing because the idiotic governor signed an awful bill making racial profiling legal! Bend over, insert bureaucratic cock! I have nothing to lose by not paying my mortgage anymore, I suppose.

I haven't told many of my friends that we are moving yet because it won;t actually happen before this semester is over. I have told him that we are moving and that we are taking the kids, but he hasn't responded. It could get ugly. Tomorrow is a big day for he and I. I am filing child support papers, which should surprise the shit out of him because he thinks that he doesn't have to pay. I really never thought this would get ugly. I am also, finally, filing for divorce. I know, I know. And I can tell you why I didn't already, but it really doesn't matter.

So there is the last month really wrapped up tight in a nutshell. I want to write more, but i seem really blocked right now, so a short update is all I have for right now. Even the other blog is suffering my word block. Sigh...

On Honesty

2010-07-22T14:02:00.000-07:00

We returned from Alaska a week ago. The trip was good. Well worth the really dismal state of financial affairs we are wading through. She and I spent 9 days completely with each other. We talked, we cried, we took photographs and we laughed. I heard her laugh. That song I love so much. Her smile shined like the sun that was stuck behind the clouds through most of Canada. She was sober. She was guarded. I was very guarded. I told her about going to Al-Anon and liking it. I did not tell her I wanted to go back. I felt ashamed to be needing to feel that connection. I felt sad thinking that she would be feeling judged. I felt scared that she would leave me because I couldn't deal on my own.

Fast forward to present. That lovely sobriety has ended, but this time, I was able to self-talk my brain into believing that it was solely her choice and I have no control over her in any way. How can she hit rock bottom when I stand in her way? I have good days and bad days. I finally told her that I was going to go back to Al-Anon weekly. She agreed that it may be good for me, but not because of her. I am working only on me. I am establishing boundaries where ones were just assumed. My assumptions were correct for some and dead wrong for others. Up until last night, I was not being completely honest with her. She hurts me sometimes, though never intentionally. This hurt has nothing to do with the drinking. Curbing this hurt is another area of self-talk I am becoming proficient in. What it is that hurts is of no relevance on this blog, but what came of last night may be.

She asked me if I was frustrated by it. She knew I was, but it was a huge elephant in the room that we both have tried desperately to ignore. I said yes. No hesitation, no more guarding, just simply, Yes. I told her all I have been feeling. All the thoughts of self deprecation and the self-talk to leave those thoughts behind. I told her my observations and asked if I am wrong about them. I hurt her. Or rather a pain she has been hiding came forward. Neither of us is at fault for this. Neither of us has brought this pain, but we both retain it. Especially her.

I woke up this morning lighter than yesterday, which was heavier than normal. I woke up today knowing the weight of my honesty on her. How could I have been so selfish as to have thought I was dropping my load when really she was right behind me picking up my honesty, piece by heavy piece, and placing it square on her shoulders. Another load to bear. Another person she feels responsible for hurting. Any one of you can tell me that she chooses to carry this burden, she can choose not to. My logical brain knows this, my emotional brain has just begun new growth and still lingers in it's old ways. I love her. This millstone was to be unloaded by me, never to be picked up again by either of us. How can I tell her to drop it? How can I be honest while still being sensitive to her propensity to take on the hurts of loved ones?

It seems like:

2010-06-17T08:52:00.000-07:00

All I ever do is bitch about the negative things in my life on this blog, huh? Well I kinda do. This is more my super secret hideout for when I feel so bad I am not sure what to do, so I write. I want to let my few readers know that I do have another blog that is kept much more current and is a little less emo. It is called Two Queer Hippies. I am not just a pile of mushy emotional crap, I actually do things too!

Also, after my super emotional weekend, I realized that I have hit my rock bottom with her drinking and I am now, at the insistance of my friends and therapist, going to Al-Anon. I chose to go. I do not feel forced and, boy, after my first meeting, I felt better. Even though it seems like I am all alone in this, even after I hear others stories, I for sure know I am not now. I know that it is ok and good to love her, I just need to find a different way to show her. She is my soulmate. For better of for worse, that's what I am signed on for. I just hope she still feels the same way.

I am going on a solo roadtrip to Alaska, starting tomorrow afternoon. I will try to be updating as I go. Some of the posts may be the same on both blogs, but you know there will be emo stuff on here. Haha. Akthough the roadtrip portion is solo, I am meeting her up there. She is also taking a roadtrip of sorts, She is doing a motorcycle endurance race called Hoka Hey. Seven thousand miles on a Sportster! She's crazy and I love her. I haven't told her that I am going to Al-Anon. I plan to tell her on this trip. I am pretty sure she will support me, since she doesn't dispute having a problem.

Viva Alaska!

A Letter To All Bar Owners and Bartenders

2010-06-13T09:29:00.000-07:00

To All of You:

You dispense a killer liquid. If it doesn't take the body off this earth, which eventually it does, it takes the mind. It takes families and breaks them, shatters them, ruins them. And I am not so naive to think that it's you. I am fully aware of the responsibility of the drinker themselves. They ask for it. But in some ways then, doesn't the drunk girl at the frat party when she acts promiscuously and gets raped? Neither is informed coherent consent. Both are taking from the body and the soul and the mind. One is a blatant violation, the other is also a violation, but one we as a society believe can be chosen by the drinker.

We want all these freedoms to choose for ourselves what is good for us and what is not. I am not even sure what I am trying to say. I am angry. I am angry that you keep serving after a person has clearly had enough. I am angry that you ignore the part after they leave your bar. I am angry about how many people I see driving away after having asked for and been served way too many. All in the name of what? Freedom to choose? Sustaining a business? Greed? Ignorance? Why do you keep doing it?

My life is being destroyed. The woman I love can't stop. You have the power to tell her no. It may not be her choice. She may be mad at you. It may not even save us. But it could save her. A person you call your friend. Please. And don't worry, I have also spoken to her. I have asked her to stop, but she can't. It's this driving force. It's this demon. It's this fear that you won't all love her if you don't have that liquid toxin in common.

From the outside I can see that you won't remain friends when she stops ingesting your poison, but I don't tell her that. I don't tell her that in the end, it will be her eyes opening to the fact that she really has nothing in common with those who see no other way. Right now, I don't even tell her that if her eyes don't open soon, she will lose us. And we will lose her, more. We have already lost whole parts of her. So how about helping me? How about helping all of us? You could have a clear conscience and fall asleep right away, knowing that your "friends" made it home safe. You can know one family survived. One family is thriving. One family is pushing through recovery. Because we are a strong family, but right now we are on our knees, even the little ones, trying desperately to hold onto what we know we had, but can hardly remember.

I know you are not a cold person. I know that the demon is in the drink. I know that she chooses it, she chooses you. I know that she alone can make the decision to quit. She did last night, at the lowest I have ever seen her. Which, by the way, was very low. I have also made the decision to not enable her anymore. The only things I did last night for her were to drive her home, get her water and get her a pan to puke in. I watched her puke. I watched her pass out on the bathroom floor. I watched her struggle to get her shoes off. I watched her pass out on the ground. I watched her struggle to get to bed. I watched her pass out again in her clothes on the bed. I watched her to make sure she was breathing. I watched her dream and have nightmares. I watched her all night long, knowing the person I love is in the empty shell on our bed. This is what you close your eyes to, what you can never possibly see.

I ask of you to please consider the people who are at home, suffering. Please read my words and ask yourself why you are in an industry that destroys lives? It affects all lives. In an instant of distraction after a night at your establishment, a life could be changed, lost, altered. Even if that person is not possessed like my love is. Then ask yourself why we are like this? What is it, as a whole, that we are running from? And is harboring the runners the only stance you can take? Are you a runner?

Yours, in complete disbelief my life has brought me here,

J

I Just Can't Seem to Shake This

2009-12-26T17:15:00.000-08:00

I am trying not to still hate Christmas. I think for the first time in a long time, the kids had the full magic of Christmas morning. I didn't though. They let us sleep in until 7. Exactly. Then when they came to wake us up, TK got mad. I had to whisper in her ear that it was her idea to get up then and that it was Christmas. So she was grumpy from the moment we woke up. I was trying to keep a light tone, but she kept bringing it down. Was a super hard day for me. Normally, I would have been sad to let the kids go with him, but yesterday it was a relief. I will be happy when all this shit has passed. I made a wagon wheel coffee cake, a tradition for my family, another thing I haven't done in several years and I made breakfast. Was OK, but there is this heaviness that is hanging over the house. Something uncommunicated. Something so sad. I hate it and I hate Christmas. I guess I was really hoping she would be my Christmas star, some light on this shitty time of year, but she was darker than me. I just want to be normal. I don't want to think about what I am eating, how many resources I am consuming, my kids exposure to brain numbing media. I just want to be the same as everyone else, just for a bit. Then my family would like me. Then I would not be so alone in a world that thinks all I ever do is preach. I want to wake and and be back in classes and worry about that stuff so I don't have to deal with this stuff. I hate Christmas. PS Jesus wasn't even born this day, so all those stupid cards are just an ad ploy.

The Number One Reason I Hate Christams

2009-12-13T09:23:00.000-08:00

TK left the house today in a self-loathing rage. She barely said goodbye and she blew at least one stop sign, which means also that she is gonna speed the whole way to work. Why? you ask. Well, I will tell you. Money. And not the money to pay the bills because that's done, but money to buy gifts. Obligation. She doesn't want to be perceived as the poor sister. It's Christmas, that's just what you do. Who fucking says? Why is it that Americans are forced to grow up with this STUPID notion that Christmas is all about who gives the best gifts? Fuck everyone who teaches their kids that a store bought, designed obsolete, polluting, plastic pieces of shit are better than anything handmade. All these people who are getting second jobs to buy their kids the next big landfill item, remember these toys are designed to fall apart after so long or become last years technology. Also remember that the "happiness" that toy brings is fleeting and the "joy" of giving is forgotten once the credit card bills come in. Consider what it even takes to make all those toys and electronics. And so it begins, there is not enough money in the world to make someone happy, but there is enough LOVE. Practical and beautiful hand-made gifts can be the wave of the future and the way we save our souls and planet. We all have talents that we haven't tapped into. Reflect on this before you buy anything unnecessary. I can't tell you all enough how sad my heart is right now.

Let's Talk About Sluts

2009-12-12T09:59:00.000-08:00

It's a soapbox kind of day. Sorry.

Yesterday I was listening to the radio and the DJ's were talking about Tiger Wood's recent indiscretions. The woman DJ called his lovers sluts.

Two things:

Number 1: Tiger's private life is just that. He can do what he wishes, when he wishes. It is not up to the people to judge him, to say that he must be held to a higher standard because he is in the public spotlight. Dear people, you put him there. These are your morals that you are imposing on him, obviously not his. If he is not being an appropriate roll model to the children, too bad for you. He is a golfer. Why don't you try turning off your television and becoming an appropriate roll model for YOUR own children? I know, it's hard and you are not even in the public's eye, but I think you can do it.

Number 2: Why is it that the women who slept with Tiger are the sluts? They had CONSENSUAL sex. What makes only a woman a slut? Why can men have all the sex, without a label, that they want and even be exalted for it?

Argument 1: the Bible. Only Jesus was immaculately conceived, people. That makes Mary the only non-sex haver in the bible, until she birthed Joseph's non-Messiah kids. And lets get this straight, your Bible is full of incest, legal rape, legal murder and bastards. Abraham and Sarah were half siblings, sharing a father. Furthermore, up until recently, only the very rich could marry. That would have excluded most of us and all of the humbled Bible figureheads, including Mary and Joseph.

Argument 2: the very definition of slut. A slovenly and promiscuous woman. So she is dirty and likes to have sex. Hmmmm.... I am pretty sure that the women Tiger had sex with were not slovenly. (Having had sex with a pro-golfer for many months, I am somewhat of an expert on what they look for.) I am also sure that having sex does not make someone bad. Even having oodles of it. We've already surmised that not everyone is married, now lets look at why you are having sex, married or not and regardless of gender and sexual identity. It feels fucking good! That's why. Obviously, I am not having sex to make babies and neither are most of you. So there is no other reason when we boil it down. (Sorry if you are one of the people who aren't finding pleasure in consensual sex.)

There is no reason to label anyone who has sex. Not even with a famous person. There are many men, even famous one who have sex with people other than their wives, Republican senators with men, Presidents with interns, rock stars with fans, sports legends who spread AIDS, etc. and who takes the bad rap? The one with the vagina is always to blame. (Except in the case of the gay seducer.) The words of the local poet Selah may sum this up, "see, you may find a woman tempting, but that does not make her a temptress". Let's all change the way we think.

Who has the control?

2009-12-12T08:38:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I went to the Tempe Arts Festival. I have been trying to only take the bus and rail or ride my bike at least one day a week, a commitment I upheld this day. After a hour and a half, I arrived in Tempe. Where the train let off was where the fair started. I went to cross the street, against the light with no traffic coming when I heard a man yelling.

"HEY HEY HEY!!!!"

I turned to see who was yelling and at what. To my surprise, it was a cop yelling at ME.

"You can't cross now", he said.

"Why not?" I asked. I told him I wasn't asking to be insubordinate, but because I was sure I was breaking no law.

"Do you see the little red hand?"

"Sir, what I see is you being condescending to me. Now what is the law I would be breaking to cross this street. I am at an intersection. There are no cars coming. So, so far, I am not jay walking nor am I obstructing or impeding traffic."

"I will write you a ticket."

"On what grounds, sir?'

"It's a..." He looks to his partner fro a little assistance.

"Isn't is a 28...6...46?", the partner says.

"Yeah, that's what it is."

So I did what any decent citizen should do. I googled a 28-6-4-6 from my phone. I check Maricopa county and Tempe police statutes to no avail.

"Thank you." I turned to a woman and her husband. She said that there was no reason for us to be held here and she again thanked me. I thought about just razing the crowd and having everyone cross, but surely I would be arrested or ticket for something riot like then.

"Sir, according to your website, this is your website, right?" I held the phone to him. "According to your website, there is no 28-6-4-6. Do you have anything else that might hold me here?"

"I will ticket you for going against a traffic light."

"Sir, I am not traffic. I looked both ways and behind to make sure I wasn't going to get in the way of a right turn. If I was in my car, I would most certainly not try to cross against the light."

Then the other one said something about making sure we don't get hit by a train. The train was behind me. I inquired if the train would be derailing and sliding into the intersection I was about to cross anytime soon. At that point, the light turned to green.

"Do you see the little green man now?" That was the sarcastic first cop.

I looked at him and I said, "Well, I see a little man." Then I crossed.

Before anyone gets defensive about their cop husband or wife or self, please note, I was respectful until his last sarcastic comment. I didn't and still do not believe I was breaking any laws by crossing an empty street. I also think that this man wasn't stopping me for my own safety, but instead for an unconscious need to control. I think this is a perfect example of the state's control over the citizen. Our government is getting away with being voice for the people instead of the people being a voice for our government.

The people have grown complacent and lazy. This may be an innate human condition for most, but not me. I am tired of keeping my voice quiet while a small minority of people make the rules for a large majority and I am so tired of the majority's apathy. This country has reverted to the monarchy we were before we fought the British for our independence. The congress and the Senate are the new Parliament.

What are your issues? What would you like to see done in this country? I, for one, would like to see true equality. I would like to see the people running the government, not the other way around. I would like to see this war for oil ended and the war on pollution started in a big way. I would like to see mpg laws for cars and trucks raised so much that all new cars MUST use hybrid technology. I would like to see an honest government who doesn't take money in exchange for votes, in other words, I would like to see lobbying outlawed. I would like to see an intelligent community thinking about future implications of their right-now-wants. I would like to see a day when I couldn't be arrested and suspected of terrorism for writing this blog. Thank you, Patriot Act. I would like to see that the government cannot limit the use of the Internet. Here are two articles I found:

http://newsmax.com/Newsfront/obama-internet-fcc/2009/09/20/id/335106

http://www.wired.com/epicenter/2009/09/net-neutrality-announcement/

I don't think all laws are bad. I want to have honesty and integrity upheld. I want the people, my friends, to remember that we are the voice! Start speaking!

Day 12 of Thirty Days of Gratitude

2009-12-02T15:19:00.000-08:00

his plump little hand in mine,
but it won't be forever
as the baby fat leaves
his tiny fingers,
his need to hold
me close will also leave
I've seen it already
with the two slender fingered olders
for now though, I will
hold tight to the grime of his day

Irrational, I Know

2009-10-18T15:26:00.000-07:00

I haven't had my period in 7 years! Yes 7! I had number 3 and then I got an IUD and left it in for an extra year. It's been out for about a month and the thing is coming; I can feel it! I have cramps and bloating and soreness everywhere! I don't really remember what it's like and I don't remember how to deal with such a monster! I decided to bleed again because it's natural and because I want another kid. (I know, I'm ridic!) And, since I am going balls out with this post, the sex is way better without it!

So I decided to buy a Diva Cup. She's my new best friend and I don't even know if she works yet. Wish me luck!

How Long Will Stuff Mean More Than Love?

2009-10-17T10:24:00.000-07:00

A woman down the street killed herself. She blew her head off with a shotgun. Brain matter flew across the street well into the empty lot. She was new to the block, in fact when she did it, she had been here for two weeks. She moved in with her sister and niece after her husband died. Not only did he die, but she lost her home because she couldn't afford it anymore. Why did she do it?

Several people at TK's work are getting engaged and committed. They are all wearing these huge rocks on their fingers. All paid for on credit. Are such huge diamonds really necessary? The real rarity of a diamond is controlled by the blood-filthy diamond industry, why pay so much and really own nothing?

TK woke up this morning early. I envisioned a morning of coffee and cards and hopefully love making. She called the bank to inquire about a car loan. We are down to one gas guzzling truck. The solution, trade it in and get a smaller vehicle. Sounds good, right? It's the American way. By doing this we would be spending much less money on gas and helping the world by not consuming. We would also be adding to our monthly debt and apparently ruining my sweet morning.

My solution is to ride my bike more often, to and from school. Or take public transportation. Her solution is to hide in herself and feel inadequate. I cannot abide by this. I cannot see how a car could ruin a persons whole day and put a person in such a tailspin of self hate. But all people have experienced this. The need for something overshadows the love others have for us. Or in the case of the flashy diamonds, takes the place of.

The two people with the huge rings have major problems. One of the people has only known and was only seeking material love (of her own admission), one of the people wants real love, but feels contractually bound to the giver. What has the grandness of gaudy fashion really afforded them? What can it afford any of us? Why do we insist upon living so far out of our means and searching for happiness among mounds of things when as far as we need to look is under our own roof? In the bed next to us. In the next room taking tiny breaths. Across the phone line wishing we were home. Who needs all of this shit? Not me. And not her. Because it makes no difference what I die with if I lived with unhappiness.

Sticking Up For Me, For Us and For the Future

2009-10-07T15:08:00.000-07:00

On Monday, I left my Gender Studies class in tears. When I first walked in, one of my table mates made a "That's so gay" comment. I promptly called him out on that. Later in the class we were looking at paintings from the Renaissance and more modern times when someone said, "Homo" and another said, "I see a whole lotta fruit in that painting." I tried not to be defensive, I tried to not let it bother me, but it did. We then had to show pictures that we chose to epitamize masculinity or femininity. I chose a photo of Leslie Feinberg, a transgender author, activist and speaker. My group chose me to speak up about my photo, but I couldn't. I could not get past the earlier ignorance, I did not have it in me to try and teach people who I deemed unteachable.

Since Monday, I have been plotting what I would say to the class. All of my scenarios included using other derogitory names and inserting them where gay goes in "that's so gay". I finally had my chance to speak up in class today. Even though we were running late getting out of class, my classmates lent me their ears and I eliquaintly stated my case as to why "That's so gay" makes one look ignorant and can hurt the people around said one.

If even one of those kids leaves class with a sense of why we should be careful and think about our words, then I have changed the world. Even if someone leaves the class and makes fun of the sensitive lesbian in the gender class, s/he will have relayed this lesson to someone else's ear. "That's so gay" is such a trivial thing to fight against, but even the biggest buildings use sand to support the cement foundation. I am just one grain of salt, but I feel mightier than a boulder today!

They Seeds Are Sown

2009-09-27T12:46:00.001-07:00

My number one and I got up early this morning and buried the seeds in our new garden. It's the first time that I have not been the sole gardener. It feels so great to have her by my side while we turn the dirt and plant our food. I want to cry when I think of how amazing she is and how much I need her in my life. I have never needed somebody like I need her. I have always had the attitude that I could do it all on my own and that I never needed anybody's help. Now that she is here, I want to share her load and mine. Here are some new pics.

Just watered.

The schematic of what's planted.

The Soil is Cooking Now

2009-09-16T16:26:00.001-07:00

I have been doing hard labor lately. I tilled the garden I haven't used in two years. It was hard work! I thought I would share some pictures from my big sweaty adventure. After I tilled the whole thing, a process that took over four hours, TK and I added four large bags of organic manure, four large bags of organic compost, a bag of phosphates and 5 pounds of blood meal, which it turns out is dark brown, not red. We water it every other day to keep it moist, but other than that, we won't do anything until the 26th when we plant the first round of crops. I can't wait to see those little green babies popping out of the soil! Here are some pics. A couple of before shots, some of us working in the garden and some after shots! I will post more as we keep going!

Before.

I just gone tilling.

TK watering after the soil treatment.

The After Picture.

Implications

2009-09-12T12:04:00.001-07:00

Sometimes we don't think about what our words and actions as being bigger than in our own little worlds. Sometimes we do, but don't care. Last night, TK and I rode the light rail to Mill. We walked around Mill, had dinner at Hippies Cove, a burrito place, then we walked to Hippie Gypsy, one of our favorite stores, then to Mojo Yogurt where we enjoyed a shared delight. While we were eating, we watched an open mic night at Mill's End Coffee Shop. (I feel like I'm doing a plug for Mill businesses. Except Mojo, all of the businesses are locally owned.) The MC said that he hoped and prayed it wouldn't rain. All the while, I was hoping and praying that it would, even thinking about how much it would cost to replace my phone if it got too wet.

On the way home, I was thinking out loud with TK that the selfish hope of the MC, if it had any power and maybe it does, could totally change everything. If it did rain, it would be a nicer day today, the streets would be washed and cooled, the trees and plants would get watered, my garden soil wouldn't be as hard to break up if the water softened the ground. There are so many things that rain could positively accomplish for us.

I like how sometimes my eyes get opened by a slight murmur in this giant world. I need to be careful of my thoughts and doings. What I say may have only a small effect on me, but huge implications for something or someone else. Thank you universe for being subtle with this lesson.

TK Birthday Camping Trip

2009-09-10T11:21:00.000-07:00

Me.

Her.

Us.

Home.

BIg Changes Coming

2009-09-10T10:01:00.000-07:00

I am not sure how much I have written about my current relationship. I started feeling like each one was the same and they were getting boring to write about and super boring to read. This new one is different though. She and I have very many things in common. We camp, we cook, we clean and we love being at home together. In short, she's not going anywhere. I will write more another time, but I would rather live life with her than write about it.

She is like my muse. I won't say that she gives me strength, courage and tenacity, but I will say that with her, I have diminished my fear of tapping into these energies. My house is clean all the time, my yard is nice and projects that I didn't want to complete before are getting completed. I have a new roof. I am saving up for a new hot water heater. This weekend, we are planting a garden.

Planting a garden seems like something I would have been able to do before her, but it's not easy to plant a garden when you lay in bed all day and think about planting a garden. We have our organic garden planned out, including drawings and planting schedules. I would like to eat mostly the food that we grow. It will be much cheaper than buying organic at the stores. And I know that it is for sure organic.

We are using the old garden plot in the backyard. (Alright, quick confession that makes me so cliche...she lives here now. She still has her apartment, but since May, she has been here, save for one night when the air went out. Ok, I'm such a lesbian! (Even though I still identify as queer.) I am such a stereotype! It totally works for us, but I am sure that you all have heard that before though. Blah!) That's out now! We have been working on the backyard now for two weeks and it looks great! I am going out there in a few to get the rest of the plot weeded. We are adding compost, manure, blood meal and phosphate this weekend so it can cook for two weeks.

When it is all done cooking, we will be succession planting carrots, peas, squash, cucumbers, lettuce and spinach, strawberries, green beans, onion and garlic, cabbage, pumpkins and tomatoes. The squash and cucumbers will be trained to grow up the four foot picket fence between us and the neighbors, the peas and green beans will be planted on the wires surrounding the garden to keep the dogs out. The strawberries are going to be dug into the existing area around the grapes that already grow up the posts and trellis around the garden. (The grapes act as shade in the summer.)

We will be planting herbs in containers on the back porch and will be adding fruiting trees in spring, including lavender, basil, oregano, thyme, aloe vera (cactus, I know), peppermint, lemon balm and mint for the herbs and apple and pomegranate for the fruit trees. The peach tree already does and amazing job of producing juicy yumminess. I also hope to add some blackberries and raspberries to the mix soon. We will be growing everything from organic, heirloom seeds from our local nursery. Together we ruled out places like Home Depot and Lowes as we would rather support our local community businesses. There is a company in Tucson that can help us with out pest control

So the garden is my latest conquest, our conquest, I should say. I have had successful gardens before and expect this one to be no different, just better and hopefully sustaining us through the winter until we till and plant the spring garden. She also wants to build a fire pit in the yard and I am all for that, but the food comes first.

On a side note, school is going great. I have decided that I do not want to work in a hospital setting practicing western medicine for 10 hours a day, so I am graduating in May with my AA and AS (Associates in Science) then moving onto NAU where I hope to double major in forestry and elementary special ed. I would like to continue working with the notion of nature deprivation, but taking it a step forward and and testing to see if being in a natural environment (with needed support) can help to organize the brain with autism. So, yes, that means I would be moving for a bit...I am a little scared of that. More later, I suppose.

Off to till and weed!

She Speaks, Yet Again

2009-07-03T19:46:00.000-07:00

The transmission on the van that I still owe 9000 dollars on. The A/C in the house that I just has fixed last year. And now the hard drive on my two year old Mac Book. Gone. Lost. For good. (Luckily, I backed up onto an external hard drive a couple of months ago.) So the universe, or she when I am mad at her, speaks to me. Time and again, she sends small notes, but I guess she has been trying to tell me something and I wasn't listening. To refresh, last time, after I screamed at her "What more?", she responded by sending someone to my house to break into it.

So what exactly could all this mean? The nearest I can tell is that I am really disconnected with the things and people who really matter. Am I really always plugged in, driving, or spending all my time in my room? Yes. One short, not so hard look reveals that I am. I live in my car and live for my phone and my computer. When the computer crashed today, I told the repair man that my lover was sick. He was confused as all hell, but then he caught on.

So after a long cry and talking it out on the phone with friends (TK was not available and I would really love to talk to her right now, but no service) I went and picked apples from my parents apple tree. I felt so good with the breeze blowing on my skin and the sun filtering through the leaves to kiss my skin. That is where I belong. In nature, Not here writing this blog or on my phone coordinating a night of country dancing. that's not where my heart lies. I long to be outside when I am inside and never want to go in when I am out.

I never wanted a cell phone. I was so reluctant to get one and now I have my yahoo, facebook, myspace and weather channel apps downloaded on my crackberry. I am never without it. I won't let my kids watch TV, so why would I allow myself to be constantly connected to my phone or computer?

So I need to make some changes. (Some have been made for me...) It won't be easy. I am not sure how I will do my papers for this upcoming semester, which promises to be VERY paper heavy. I will make due though. I know I will. As I said in my last post, I am supported now. I feel it, I know it. I have hated the van since I got it. I think I will give it back to the bank and take the financial hit. The A/C is fixed, but I know I can live without it and the computer? I will get it fixed, but I will not be on it nearly as much.

Maybe subtle hints don't work for me. I must be dense when it comes to the universe's whispers, but when she yells, I hear. I hear her loud and clear today.

Gay Boys in Short Shorts

2009-06-30T20:40:00.000-07:00

I had long ago given up on my dream of finding my soul mate. I mean we all rationalize from time to time that there is no such person. Then we get stars in our eyes when a potential person comes along. Soul mate could be defines two ways I suppose. One, the person you are destined to be with or ,two, your ideal mate. The first means there is only one for you, the second that there are many, but maybe after you find the first one you just stop looking. I am pretty sure I can stop looking now. The best part is that she has been around for a while.

I had a small emotional breakdown over the electric bill two weeks ago. Ok, maybe not so small. I am pretty stressed about the bills and what-not. Shit was in jeopardy of getting shut off every month. Gets old all this struggling, but never fear, I sold the meager 401k I held and will survive for the summer!! Woohoo! Back to the slightly underexaggerated emo breakdown, I wanted to throw something, namely the pile of mail and bills that keep stacking up and she let me but then she held me while I cried. She assured me that she would be there for me. The thing she didn't do was tell me what everybody else has, "It's gonna be ok." I really hate that. It's like the lame excuse for life. Shit sucks, but it's gonna be okay. As if by some miracle, all the troubles will disappear. HE told me that the whole time we were married and nothing went away and nothing was ok. She just held me, she let me cry, she let me throw the mail and without a word, helped me clean it up.

I broke down that day. I don't usually do that. Especially not in front of ANYONE. I felt safe and supported for once in this last 12 years. I felt like I could be crazy for a minute and there would be no judgement. She has had her moments too and I can honestly say that I think nothing different of her. Well, maybe I think she is just that much more amazing and strong.

I have these fantastic dreams of my house becoming the home I have always dreamed about and I feel like those dreams will soon be my reality. The sky in the living room, the raised bed gardens, the composting fence, the living picket fence, the green roof, the chicken coop and the sheep or goat lawn manicurist. She doesn't think I am nuts or overboard, She knows, like I do that all of this can be accomplished by just us. And like me she envisions little cost because we will salvage most of our material.

I feel like my place in this world is saved. I am not lost anymore. I am not scared anymore. I feel like I can finally breathe and that everything will be ok.

Getting Back to Me

2009-06-25T09:22:00.000-07:00

I have been lost for a while. The last gf did a number on me and still continues to try, although I think she is genuinely oblivious to what she is doing. I have moved on and I am seeing someone else. After being on the other's roller coaster, this relationship almost seems to be lacking something. Oh yes, drama and mystery, not the good, sexy kind either. I think I can live without that. She is good to me and my kids. She helps with chores and other household responsibilities. She loves camping, is a vegetarian, loves gardening and generally being dirty. She also wants her own peice of land to homestead on. She's a is very earth-based in her choices. She rides a motorcycle, so she's HOT! She has a great sense of style and she knows herself. Her name on here shall be TK. TK and I have been friends since December and only recently, six weeks today, started dating. There was always a strong attraction, but she was dating my friend and I the other girl. And after my break-up, I had to find myself again. (I realize now that the girl is definitly not the girl I was meant to be with. She is a super girl, but not for me. I don't really want to talk about her anymore.)

TK and I started hanging out during my last week of finals. She helped me write the impossible logic paper by making me dinner and reminding me to breath periodically. Up until then. i just considered her a friend, but that night I started to consider her. I was so anti-dating that she hadn't occurred to me before. I really battled my feelings for her because I still loved the last one. I let her spend the night here that night, but I didn't let anything happen. After a few more nights of studying and dinner, I finally relented and I kissed her. Was so nice and so different. She is so sensual, I love the way her body moves. She is also very strong, in body and mind. She can hold me.

I had given up on the dream of finding someone who was enough like me that we could be harmonious, but different enough to keep us both interested. She is very smart, has a degree in forensic psychology, but doesn't work in the field right now because she got burnt out. She understands that happiness is not money and stuff. We have these amazing conversations for hours about politics, activism, current events and everything in between. She doesn't just roll over for my wants, nor does she expect me always give into her. Camping with TK was just as I had hoped. She and I have different camping strengths and we work well together without much verbal communication.

As an aside, when we went camping, I tried to do everything myself because that is what I am used to and she had to keep reminding me that she was capable and likewise. She is very independent and has also never been with someone who complimented her like I do.

Back to getting back to me, I can be me when I am with her. I don't have to be made up all the time. I don't feel ashamed of my lack of labels on my clothes. I can wear a dress when I want and not be judged. (I rarely wear a dress outside the house, but I do like them sometimes.) I never thought being with someone could be so effortless and comfortable without being boring. I walked into my house the other day and for the first time it felt like home. I am home. I am home in her arms and out. I have started being vegan again. Today is day two. She wants to try too and with her being veggie already, it won't be a stretch. We eat home prepared dinners together almost every night. We still go out on our own and I will never lose track of my friends.

My semester begins in August and I will be really busy again, but I know that I have the support I need to have a great semester. Plus, I have already proven to myself that I can do this all on my own. I am strong and capable. (PS The picture is of her, not me.)

Day Eleven of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-05-08T21:11:00.000-07:00

when it seems like i need to give up
when it feels like my heart can’t continue to beat
when i think the miles will erase your smell from my memory
when i don’t feel your touch anymore
when you are sick and i am helpless
when you cry and i can’t dry your tears
i know we can look and see the same heavens
i know we can wish on the same stars
i know the moon pulls on your heart like she does mine
we will emerge, each, more powerful
we will realize longing and love
we will feel more, know more, be more

Life Up Til Now Summary

2009-05-07T23:09:00.000-07:00

I’m just going to write tonight. My semester is coming to an end and it is so busy with tests, papers, papers and more papers. I am exhausted. This semester has been the toughest one I have had in 2 years. I started off the semester with a girlfriend, I end it with a person I am so in love with it is stupid. Right before my birthday, she broke up with me to take care of some things in her life. Healing from an injury, feeling out some feelings with other people, you know the regular stuff. I hope what she has found is that I am pretty fuckin great and she need not look further. (There’s so much more I need to write about her in a bit.) Schoolwork has been tough. I had a full credit semester, so I have been really busy. At least a paper per week.

Also A1 started Little League. He’s cute in his uniform and eager to be good, which I think will take him a long way. I see so much of myself in him. It’s scary. I see all the hurt for the world around, all the injustice processing in his eyes. i see how sensitive he is about how people treat him. He can only take so much before it just bursts from his little eyes. He is a very young ten. I love that about him. He’s also a very trying ten. He is super smart, but is not quite sure how to articulate all he has in his brain. One can see the wheels turning in his head non-stop. The child is always on, just like me. He stays up late at night, he cries, he reads, he talks to himself. He talks about killing himself sometimes, only when he is so mad and frustrated with himself. See, he is so scattered that he forgets to do things, bring things, or where he put things. Why would any sane and loving god give him my traits?

A2 is plugging right along. I think he feels so much, but he says so little. Like his dad. (Sigh) I am trying to rectify this. He has taken up skateboarding, but not on wheels. He uses a broken fence post. I am hoping to buy him a complete deck soon, so he can really get to business. I talked to one of the board shops and they like to sponsor the little people and want to see him on a real board. It would be so cool if he skated for a pro shop. He is still feeling out the living between two homes deal. He seems to do well, but there are transition problems. The dad likes to drop them off with cookies, slushes and crappy toys from the dollar section at Target. From all three, but less from A2, I hear how much better it is to live with dad. (Dad gives them an allowance also, something I can’t afford.) A2 has been my knight and defender throughout the last two years. At times I think he is too grown up, too fast. He is very well versed in the gay lingo and lifestyle and very accepting. He smiles so much, but when he gets mad, which is not very often, he is MAD! The injustice he feels is injustice he feels is directed towards him, unlike A1 who feels the outside worlds pain.

K baby is growing so much every day. i look at his first day of school picture and I hardly recognize the baby walking with his lunch-box. He has made so many friends and is accepting of all people. He loves me with all of his heart. When we have a fight, he is usually the first to apologize. The corners of his mouth move to a frown and the tears start flowing, “I’m sorry, Mommy.” he will cry out. It’s heartbreaking. We don’t fight often, but when we do it’s a doozy. He still wants to sleep with me every night and I want to let him. It breaks my heart when every night I have to tell him no. I do my homework in my room and he stays awake the whole time. The three of them sleep in a loft bed and it is really hard for me to get him down once he is asleep, but every once in a while I will bring him to bed once he is asleep and I am ready to shut off the lights. It’s nice sleeping next to him. He cuddles my head. He stares me awake in the mornings. He runs his fingers through my hair. He is unconditional love personified. He will be continuing Kindergarten in the fall. I am very happy with this decision, but his dad is not. He does not want to pay for aftercare anymore. I am going to try and help, but at this point, I am already struggling to pay my bills.

I have decided to continue on to the nursing program. It is something I have been interested in and I think it’s about time I settle into something for a bit so I can save up for my farm in Canada. (Going to Canada in August! I am really excited and so is she.) I compared my life with hers, an act I don’t often commit because our lives are so different. What I found were many similarities. After she recovers from her injury, she still has a long way to go to be the best in her sport. Before I was looking at it like once she recovers, she’s on top again. What I realized is that there is a lot of work in between. And then I looked at myself. I am recovering from the last ten years and have only been working at me and my independence for two years. How can I possibly expect the world so soon? I can’t. Even without a goal date, I must persevere and be calm and happy with my decisions. That doesn’t mean I won’t struggle, but I will struggle with purpose.

She has been gone for a month and a week. Originally, she was to be gone for five months, now it’s looking like six. I think I will be seeing her in two weeks. When she left we were back together, but without a label. We were making love and sleeping in each others arms, I love her, she loves me. When she left, I wasn’t sure what we were or precisely what I meant to her. It took me four weeks to ask her. Up until that night I was so afraid of what she might say, but that day I decided that if I was not the same to her as she was to me, I would have to move on. Even just a rebound relationship would have to do at this point. When I finally asked her, she said that she meant o bring this up before she left and was sorry she didn’t. (She was very sick and we has to take her to the hospital three days before she left.) She said she couldn’t ask me to wait because she had waited for someone who came back and the feelings weren’t there. She said it hurt her so bad, she would never ask me to do the same. The conclusion was that we both still very much love each other and if we are meant to be we will be.

After that conversation, I felt so good. For a week. I just miss her so much. I know she is hurting and I want to be there for her. I want to go on walks with her and help her put aside her pain for just moments of the day if I can, but I can’t. I am here. I am bound here. (I am trying not to say stuck here, because it sounds so much more negative.) At the moment my ties are here. This is where my kids and school are. There is time for me to be who I want to be sometime down the road I guess. As you can plainly see I am not completely convinced. This is a place where I am struggling. So many of my friends are moving away to bigger cities, cooler jobs, places I want to be. I am here. I am in a hell that I cannot escape. Sometimes it feels like one step forward and two back. Or worse, at terrible times I feel stagnant.

I have alienated my friends. I don’t want to hang out with most of them. I have become very quite and reserved with my words. I am so stuck in my head most of the time that I am missing the things going on around me. I got in trouble at work for not being my cheerful self. I am really upset about that. I can’t be super happy all of the time. I am too busy for happy. Sad, I know. I have however written some beautiful poetry lately. I have been forcing myself to go out and participate with my friends in our normal activities, but I just end up tuning them out. The one thing I have enjoyed lately is hiking. The only problem with that is the person I have been hiking with is falling in love with me. Her words. So now I feel like I have to back away from the situation. She’s a cool girl, but I am just not ready to give up my love for HER. This summer will be a tough one. Finding money to pay bills, keeping my mind off her, keeping the kids busy for free. It’s so much to think about. I really want someone to hold me and tell me it will all be ok and I want to believe them, because I haven’t believed anyone before.

A Place to Go

2009-04-23T00:28:00.000-07:00

It used to be that I thought
making love was a physical act
But now you are gone;
so far away, a visit is an event
It occurs to me how many
different ways there are to make love

We made love with a silent stare
held over many minutes
Your chestnut eyes imploring
my soul, drinking me in
A kiss about to happen
our breath caught in the moment

We made love with a whisper
a song for your ears only
Words you longed to hear
but were too afraid to ask for
I love you, you’d sigh
with eyes closed in a dream

We made love with our laughter
coming from deep within
A mutual enjoyment of
each others company
Some nights it didn’t stop
until we laughed ourselves to sleep

We made love in those moments
when the rivers broke the levy
Times when all was lost,
except the hope we found in our embrace
Why? I asked, to which you had no reply,
but the strength of your arms

We made love last night with written word
you begging of me that justice was done
A short message with all I have,
all I want to give, if you’ll just let me
A heart put at ease, by another
so full to burst, it ached in my chest

So you see, my love, this distance
is mere miles on a map
Making love to you is a memory
i can recall when I need to
A place to go where you touch my heart
when you cannot touch my hand

Love Dream Haiku

2009-04-15T09:57:00.001-07:00

Arms wrapped around me
The heat, your skin on my back
Remembering you

Day 10

2009-04-08T17:20:00.001-07:00

Every Monday and Wednesday, I sit out in my front yard and listen to and watch my environment.

Today I watched blades of wheat grass get bullied by the breeze, only to stand tall when the battering was done.

Another look revealed these weeds gesturing in conversation with one another.

And still a different perspective, a dance between earth and wind; the graceful push and pull that is compromise at the least and propagation at its height.

The Tide

2009-04-04T12:57:00.001-07:00

Its queer how a broken heart
can change the rhythm
of the tides of life.
The ebb of sadness and
the flow of happiness
can change with the season
or the moment.
When the tide is in,
the life is sustainable,
when it’s out,
all life is impeded.
Priorities are pooled in small,
limited spaces.
The life giving qualities
would run out
if the tide did not come back in.
Rivers of tears can
temporarily rejuvenate,
but just when the gasping starts
again and life begins to strangle,
the moon releases it’s pull
and and the life-giving water
steadily cascades in,
to include the pools with the ocean.
Things begin to feel normal,
even the out tide can seem
less claustrophobic.
Almost ignorable.
The moon, herself,
may not have been visible,
but her influence is just the same.
There are tumultuous moments
with beautiful lightning displays,
where the sea is illuminated
transitorily,
black turning turquoise.
It foams and froths.
The waves reach higher than wonted
and the sea swirls with intensity,
bringing up oxygen and nutrients
to prepare for the next ebb.

Thus continues this rhythm
until it becomes habitual
and the mind feels nothing
but the customary senses,
until a new cadence has replaced
the former and the broken heart
has all but forgotten the garrote
once wound so tightly,
encircling and suffocating her.
The healing waters of the flow
cleanse and resuscitate
her beat to steady,
she feels life charge into her
and is ready again to share
the ephemeral love that brings
hope of no further ebb.
Though the outflow is ineluctable,
in certain seasons it is shorter
and more tolerable
and like the deep blue
expects and prepares
for this eventuality,
so must I.
The moon that is my beloved
will bring me to my knees,
begging once more
for the release that exclusively
she has the power to proffer.
To be influenced by such control
is out of mine,
but neither can she disengage
from our affaire de coeur;
for when the battle clouds clear
and demons have been slain
and once again her full radiance
shines upon
my still surface hiding fast undercurrents,
our need for each other is
incontrovertible.

Day Nine of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-10T17:27:00.000-07:00

old pictures/memories buried/some part of that life was good/sometimes i miss the predictability/i know i am right where i should be/i know these struggles will all be worth it/sometimes i get scared/then i look at old pictures and know i am better now

Day Eight of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-08T18:20:00.001-07:00

so many
words
spoken
tears
cried
laughs
bellowed
memories
made
thoughts
reflected
storms
watched
babies
rocked

knitting
reading
conversing
ruminating

we talk
about
girls
God
parenting
life stories
woes
triumphs
goals
the sad
the beautiful
the incomprehensible
the unjust

no one
ever leaves the
swing without
answers

Day Seven of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-08T18:18:00.000-07:00

a chance at
some sort of
normalcy

i took him
on the light rail
today

we shopped
at all the cool
stores

he ordered and
paid for his own
pizza

just a kid
walking around
tempe

just one of
many teenagers
milling

a chance to
show the world
independence

Day Six of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-06T23:40:00.000-08:00

"make me some
beany weinies
roomie"

"wash yourself
a spoon,
homo"

"i have
a spoon
gay-face"

Day Five of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-05T22:57:00.000-08:00

"i told my friends you were gay"
so matter of fact he was
"mommy, why don't they vote for love"
innocent and inquisitive
"i love you mommy"
and i know that will never change

Day Four of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-04T20:27:00.001-08:00

two friends
out to
lunch

two beers
down the
hatch

two friends
are feeling
relaxed

Day Three of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

that day they
had a plan
my three knights
would sell
the neighbors
oranges

the clever one
wrote the sign
the savvy one
chose the price
the cute one
sold the most

they made
eight dollars
working as one
that fun day
they split it
without a fight

Day Two of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-02T22:29:00.001-08:00

playing hookie
hiding out from
the truancy police

the sun warms
my feet and
i listen to birds

my mind wanders
freely like
the sparrow up high

Day One of "Thirty Days of Gratitude" A Photo and Poetry Series

2009-03-02T22:03:00.000-08:00

The "Thirty Days of Gratitude" blog was a brain child of JLB. One day when I was feeling particularly glum, she suggested that I do a photo series for 30 days of things I am grateful for. This was to remind me of all the often unnoticed beauty and love that surround me daily. So this was yesterdays photo. I couldn'y get it up til tonight, but from now on, I will try and get it up every day on time.

perfect
day
come out and
play

she said i
will
we talked for
hours

honesty and
openness
ease of
conversation

all ends well
with a
a perfect goodnight
kiss

I'm Sorry

2009-02-19T22:17:00.001-08:00

I just can't get her out of my head. I am still crying every day. Not all day. Somedays it's just a tear and others a downpour. I don't know what's wrong with me. Fuck! I'm fucking pathetic. How did I manage to let a girl get to me like this?

Missing Us (Still)

2009-02-19T22:13:00.000-08:00

I’m at the first place we met up after our initial meeting. It’s almost the same, except you’re not here. You were though. You were looking to the north, watching for the three. always a constant eye on them, without need for reward. When I would get up to look, you would reassure me that they were safe. You put your arm around me that day, so tentative and gentle, the same as last night. You took my breath away that day and you still do every time I look at you. I knew you would break my heart. The night before, you laid your head on my shoulder, a small, well remembered gesture. In my head, I promised to always be strong for you, as long as you were part of my life.

You met me at work one day, you brought me a book. I wanted so badly to kiss you, but we were in front of my boss’s window. “Thanks for the time in between”, was written in the book you gave me. Time in between what, I asked. In between all your other responsibilities, you said. You noticed. I called in late to work and took you to the airport. We talked, we laughed, we watched each other; was easy conversation. When it was time for you to go, I asked if I could kiss you. You said yes. I did. We worked. When you came home, we made love for the first time. So perfect. Like a puzzle, we fit perfect into each other. I slept. I never sleep the first night with someone. But with you, i did.

As I write this now, I am weeping. I cry because the love is not gone. I cry because I don’t know our future. I cry because you make me happy. I cry because I am angry with myself for crying. I cry because when I say I love you, I really want to say, I’m still so in love with you. But I don’t want to make it worse for you, so I don’t tell you. Last night you held me. I felt it, it was real. When you tell me love me, you mean it. You give me hope and take it away in the same breath. Who you are inside is who I love. I’m not sure that’s a concept you are used to.

Plato spoke of a love that is so deep and spiritual that it transcends previous comprehension of beauty. You make the world more beautiful for me. Now the sun shines warmer on my shoulders, the sky is bluer. I see your smile in every happy face, I hear your laugh in the wind. The very thought of life without you weighs heavy on my chest; it suffocates me. Just when I get strong enough, you hold me and I fall apart again. Am I deceiving myself? I really miss you. My body aches to be near you, it’s a physical pain.

I love you. Some days I wish I didn’t. You have changed me. You broke me, but I will rebuild stronger. You leave in a month for 5 months. Will we survive? Will we fortify our friendship? We each walk alone in two different worlds. We acknowledge that neither would survive in each others realm, but could these two places find a sound meeting ground?

her ache

2009-02-04T15:31:00.000-08:00

after every break and repair her shape changes subtly
when will she become unrecognizable?
will she just not repair one time?
can the small cracks i never bothered to fix, splinter together and smash her fragile frame?
is there a time i just won’t feel the pull of her longing pounding in my chest anymore?
ever she beats, tormenting me with her resilience
pushing me to try again, to let her unleash her flood of love
is it the being loved or the loving she thrives on?
in my pursuit of understanding her, i give into her control, to let her lead me
i follow her from one ache to another, each time hoping to make a stop at peace

logical love

2009-02-03T21:55:00.001-08:00

how is it possible that i have known her for so little time and i can’t get her out of my brain. i mean the love isn’t even logical. we live in two different worlds. think about different things. know life differently. and want two lives seeming in contrast with one another. my smart brain tells me this break up is a good thing. my emo lame-o brain remembers all the laughs we had. all the longing looks. those perfect nights. her smell. her taste. smart brain says she’s gone for four months this year and up to nine months in a playing year. emo brain wants to be held and loved. emo brain wants to hear her laugh again. emo brain wants to talk about scary stuff with her some more. smart brain is screaming for me to just accept it. emo brain is (much to the dismay of smart brain and whole person) holding just a glimmer of hope she comes to her senses. smart brain’s not sure emo brain is going to forget her any time soon. emo brain might need to shut down for a long time. i might just be a little intoxicated. its all true. i miss her so much it’s stupid. my body is aching to feel her, sense her near me. my chest feel like it will explode. and my brain won’t go to sleep. fucking girls. fucking her. fucking sadness. why the hell didn’t I stop myself from loving her? I hate myself for loving someone who can't fully love me.

If...

2009-01-29T22:24:00.000-08:00

If we met at a different time, if you could still play, if I didn't have so much school, if we would have let each other in, if I fought harder to keep us, if I just kept my knowledge of the kiss to myself, if we weren't intoxicated, if you didn't kiss her, if I didn't have expectations, if you weren't already cracked, would things be different?, would I be crying every day?, would you be sitting on your patio, smoking, wishing you were not here? So much of my pain is watching you struggle. It's nearly unbearable to see you hurting so bad. I wish I could take your pain on. I can handle it. I just want you to be happy. With or without me in your life. Thank you for all you taught me. Thank you for so many laughs. Thank you for your passion. Thank you for loving me and letting me love you.

Such a Baby

2009-01-13T20:57:00.000-08:00

This pain is intolerable. I can't stand this weight in my chest anymore. I want her near. I want her to hold me and tell me there's been a mistake and we can go on happy, because we weren't unhappy. She's just as raw as I am, hurting just as bad. I think that makes it worse that she's hurting so bad, because I am hurting worse cuz she is. Fucking no win circle. I am sleeping alone again tonight. Crying myself to sleep again. I should be all dried up. When will it stop feeling like my world is collapsing in on my chest and pushing the air right out of me?

tender hearts

2009-01-12T18:50:00.001-08:00

the tears just won’t stop
every idle moment brings a new wave
it’s so consuming and overwhelming
my eyes burn from sunrise to sunset
it wasn’t supposed to end that night

making it harder and easier
are my three valiant knights
quietly rallying around me
and demanding i meet their requirements
they sense the sad, they don’t know why

when i saw the new picture
two new streams started down my face
it’s evident how much she is hurting
and my heart is shattered in a thousand pieces
this can’t be right, this can’t be finished

she made a promise
to hold me that way again
she doesn’t make promises
so this must be real
but i feel foolish holding this hope

so i need to give her thinking room
let her be with herself
but it’s too much for me
knowing she’s so close and i can’t touch her
i miss her terribly

If we're both

2009-01-12T17:14:00.000-08:00

so sad, is it the right decision? We are both hurting so bad. Isn't one person supposed to be happier? The night of January 11 was one of the saddest of my life. We are both just so sad. Ca someone tell me if it's right? Should I fight to keep us together? I just want to hold her. Want all the hurt to go away. Want her in my arms again.

matters of her

2009-01-11T12:25:00.000-08:00

no matter how bad it hurts
she still keeps
pounding
in her cave

each pound reminds me
that my hell continues
til
she decides to

stop

when will she decide
that i have
had enough
breaking
and repairing

when?

will the pain
surrounding
her finally push her to
surrender and

succumb

if she turned
to stone
un-penetrable

would the heavy
weight of her
pounding granite
feel

better

than the empty
pain of
want

her presence
leaves little
room

to breathe

i feel her laying
slightly to
my left
warming
revitalizing
pushing me

but i don’t
want her there
anymore
i
don’t
think

she drags me
kicking and
screaming
to bliss

then she leaves
me
to navigate
her journey

alone

I Love You

2009-01-11T11:44:00.001-08:00

To believe in three words so much
that all humanity is based on the
middle word alone
is asinine

Titleless

2009-01-10T15:20:00.000-08:00

It's not often that I write so honestly and expose more than just surface emotion, THEN POST, but I am going to try to hit the post button when I am done. It may only be up for a second, before I freak and take it down.

I am not sure about this girl I am dating. I am sure that I love her, don't get me wrong. The thing is, is that sometimes I feel like I am just biding my time with her. I feel like we really don't have much of a future. I hear you all saying, "Nobody knows what the future hold." True, my lovies, nobody, not even me, knows what the future has in store for any of us. Who knew I would be here right now?

I know that we are so different and yet when we are together, those differences disappear. She melts into me and I into her, yet we can be so separate and still comfortable. (I have to admit that I am still holding back a lot of emotion and fear, because I am not writing this on Word first. Possibly, though, if I was writing in word I would never even have the chance to post. I am trying though.)

Alright, sometimes I feel really self aware around her. I can read her so easily most of the time and I can sense when she's questioning being with me. It makes me wiggle in my seat just a little. I try to act normal, but I think that just exaserbates the situation. I feel like she questions her choice of a girlfriend that is poor and less, shall we say sophisticated, than her. Then I remember that she loves me and I haven't, until Thursday night, questioned that. (Thursday, she finally called me and pretty much told me she was singlehandedly deciding the future of our relationship. At that point I questioned how strong the love and respect was.)

Just when I start feeling so insecure, she pops off with an amazing text or a gift or a fantasic date or, the best, words whispered in my ear.

She and I have different goals, values, ages. She has a lot still left to learn about how life really is. She has been handed every opportunity, I work for my mine. I don't begrudge her that. In fact, I think it would be harder to fall flat on my face from such a height, then to start out on my ass. Her world is crashing around her; it is a fragile world she lives in. I want to be there for that crash. I want to help her wash her bloody nose and get back on her feet. I know she will withdraw, this has become very evident.

Three times now she has pulled away. Once when she questioned being a mom to my kids, which I never asked her to do. Once when she got very depressed and ran back home to her uber controlling dad. (nothing to do with me.) And this last fight we had. In some ways I am very jealous that she can run because I can never get too far without one of three or all three getting hungry, needing to pee or not wanting to leave in the first place. I envy her freedom, or do I? Perhaps if I had her freedom to withdraw, I would never resurface. She is strong enough to resurface. A quality I admire in her as well as wish she didn't have to use.

She's so used to hiding from and simultaniously dealing with the pain, she sees no other way. And antidepressants help too. I refuse to deal with my pain using a daily dose. (Drunk cupcake baking doesn't count since I haven't drank since.) Her way of dealing frightens me because I can't be around all the time to not let her pull away. I wish I could stand between her and herself, but I also don't want to be her saviour all the time. Part of me hopes thats she will see that talking about certain things and throwing caution and trust to the wind may not be as hazardous as they sound. I want to be her rock.

I am also very aware that we are still in the getting to know you stage. We have been together since the moment I met her three and a half months ago. Yet, she has been out of town for about forty of those days, with minimal contact. When she gets back in town there are hours used up getting back into the comfort zone. (I like my freedom when she is gone, I want a little more communication, but otherwise...) Being still in this getting to know you phase of our relationship, neither of us fully trust the other. I still tell her only surface hurts, I know that's all she shares with me, as evidence of something she said Thursday night. She said I just should have known how sad she was. (Not a fair assumption, I know. I told her so.) Hopefully, one day, I will know how sad she is by her mannerisms alone. Hopefully.

We have so much to learn from each other yet. We still haven't seen each other since the fight on Tuesday. It's Saturday. She texted last night and asked if we could start over. I said yes. Of course I said yes. I am not ready to end this thing yet. I am so curious of why we are together, what this crazy universe has in mind, that I don't want to let her go...just yet, if not ever, but like I said before, I have no idea where this life will lead us.

I like to think I am very present with her. For the most part, I am. Only when I start to feel a little off balance, do I think into the future and the lives we both envision. Her big house with windows facing a lake holding our motorboat. My one room cabin in the woods, wood-burning stove to heat the place, drinking from the stream down the path. Her incredibly fast, fancy Audi; my worn leather feet. Yet there is a middle ground that I have often thought of. She wants a place by the lake. We can build with straw bails. My practice could be an out building. Then the questions start forming. Will she grow out of the allure of money equals comfort and happiness? Will I come to realize that a comfortable lifestyle is something I like? Will she start thinking for herself instead of relying on "what's always been done" in her family? (ie The women don't work.) Can we learn to communicate more effectively? Is she the one who I will learn the most from? How will I evolve?

I am working on my patience, I really am, but it's hard not to want to know all the answers now. Especially when I want to know in the name (excuse) of saving further hurt. I really tried to be super honest and open in this post. I think I was, but I also know there is still so much I deleted that I will have to write in Word and not post.

Today

2009-01-07T17:09:00.000-08:00

I am so much more sad today than last night. She texted last night just to make sure I got home safe. It was a nice enough text. It took me a while to text back because I couldn't think of what to write. I'm home seemed too short and mad and anything else seemed like I was justifying my position. I settled on telling her that I know what it's like to have your world rocked.

I texted today to tell her I hoped she had a good lunch date. Hours later I got one back. Now it's 615 in the evening, almost 24 hours since the fight and I am so sad. I just want to hear from her. I called and left a message, but haven't heard back. I fucking hate this time between a fight and a make up. I'm on edge and it doesn't help that the little ones mirror my mood.

I'm just sad. Why do fights always have to be about stupid shit? When will it all be better?

Sadly,

me

UPDATE: She finally texted and said she needed space tonight. I was already drunk and baking cupcakes by then. I fucking miss my gf. I really love that girl.

That Sucked

2009-01-06T21:57:00.000-08:00

We just had our first fight. She is very upset that her injury has put her out of the game for the year. She has known this since Thanksgiving, but it sinks in further every day. Today offered her another reminder that she can't play. She barely brushed on it. She didn't and doesn't tell me her feelings when they are bad. It's just inferred. She was really distant to me. Really distant. She kept making little remarks to me and using what I felt was a snide tone.

Finally, it got to me. I asked her if she was frustrated with me and if not, what was she frustrated with because it was very apparent. She told me to leave. That she couldn't believe that I would add my sensitivities to her bad day. I could have waited til tomorrow to tell her how I felt. Obviously I couldn't. I just don't like being talked to like that. I tried to rationalize with her, but it's good I left.

I'm home now. I really want to tell her that I know. I know what it's like to have the life you envisioned for yourself torn from your grasp. I am so frustrated with her for not sharing exactly how she is feeling. I've been there, I know what it's like. I maybe should have been more sensitive to how she is feeling because I do know.

Possibly even more frustrating is the little lesson I am catching onto. I was really angry with her for not sharing her feelings when I haven't once let on how fearful I am. She has no clue what goes on in my head. I don't tell her because I don't want to burden her. How can I be angry with her for something I do (or, really, don't do)?

New Years Update

2009-01-03T00:36:00.000-08:00

Met the parents. I need to start at the beginning of the night. She came to pick me up. When she walked in, she stopped and just looked at me. Then she said, "You look hot." Right. I did good with the outfit. In the kitchen, she told me that she got me a New Years gift, since we decided not to exchange christmas gifts. I said that wasn't fair and there was no such thing as a New Years gift. She said it's a Canadian thing. I called bullshit. She said "Canadian underground." (Witty girl, she is.) I closed my eyes as instructed and when I opened them, she was holding a necklace. The charm is a perfectly weighted white gold ball, with one side of the ball carved out and a small diamond set in the center. I was speechless. I love it.

With the necklace on, we headed out the door. When we got to her house, I was told to wait out by the car while she retrieved her parents. I was super nervous at this point and this standing and waiting didn't help. Her mum came out first. She looks like a really short Hillary Clinton. I introduced myself and held out my hand, which was promptly pushed away and replaced by a hug. Was nice. Her dad was next. Like a giant Nick Nolte, he lumbered toward me and hugged me.

I was a less nervous by now. The ride to the Ocean Club seemed like it took forever. They asked me a zillion questions about me, my kids, my schooling, my work, my future plans. My goal to be a doctor and how I will achieve it. I felt like I talked too much. (I asked her later and she said I didn't.) She said something that I didn't hear. I said, "What's that, hun?" This is something I say alot, to anyone.

When we got to the restaurant, we were immediately served champagne. I usually don't like champagne, but this was tasty. Maybe because I was so needing it, maybe because it wasn't the usual Brut my family serves at New Years. We were seated right in front of the live band, so at least there wasn't much talking. A toast to the New Year and new friends. Cheers. "Lemondrop Martini, please." (In Ocean Club speak, that is two martinis for the price of one. To regular bar standards, it's about four shots of vodka. Can anyone else see a problem?)

After the toast, the couple next to us was seated. He's huge and goofy looking. She's absolutely gorgeous. And when she takes her coat off, her boobs are just staring at me. I couldn't help, but look. I remember that I am being watched, so I quickly turn back to my drink and look up just in time to see her dad watching me check out the girls tits. Good one, self! Fuck.

I have to pee. I excuse myself from the table. Stand up and oh shit, I'm a little tipsy. I have to walk really slow, they can't know. Especially because I just ordered another martini. In the restroom, I meet Pinky. She the bathroom attendant, because people in Scottsdale can't get their own paper towels. I tipped Pinky well because I would hate to be stuck in the bathroom all night on New Years. She's pretty funny. In typical me style, I make friends with the bathroom attendant. Apparently while I am in the bathroom, my gf's dad says to her, "So you two are just friends?" She says, "Yes, we're friends." She can sure skirt around the truth.

Back the table, my gf asks me if I had noticed the chic with the boobs. I told her of course and I told her that her dad catching me looking once was enough for me. My other martini was there. Yum. I start to have to tell myself that every move I make must be slow and controlled. Once I make contact with the glass, I must have a firm grip on it before I move it to my lips. And so it went, this dialogue in my head. Her mom staring at me the whole time, her dad judging me, sizing me up, making sure I am worthy of his daughter. (At this point he can't get it out of her, her gayness remains a secret.)

The matre de, James, walks up to my gf and they exchange hugs. He puts his hand on my shoulder and say, "It's nice to see you again." Her dad tilts his head at this. See James is in on the big gay secret.

I have to go again. Slow and steady, I don't think I am really walking crooked, just seeing crooked. "Hey Pinky, girl. How you doin?" You know those stupid MySpace surveys going around right now about 2008? There's one question about the dumbest thing you did while drunk. Well here it is. "Pinky, you want me to go get you a plate of that Alaskan King Crab? I'll bring it back in here for you." She replies, "Girl, you a riot. I'll lose my job. Now you want some lotion?"

Eleven o'clock. She tells her parents we are leaving. And so we go. I am super trashed. I NEVER get this trashed. I am always so good at stopping myself before sloppy. Yeah, not so much this time. Hugs and thank you's all around. We decide to come back to my place. I'm thinking we should have a fire, then I'm thinking, Fuck I'm drunk. I can't light a damn fire. I'll burn my house down. So we sit on the porch swing and smoke some weed. I thought I was fucked up before, well I had another thing coming. We weren't paying attention to the time, so when the first gunshots of New Years rang out, we were a little surprised. Much kissing ensued.

The next day after she left, I received these texts:

"Mum loves u by the way, dad likes you but didn't like u calling me hun lol, im like dude she calls everyone hun, hes like its how she said it" (This particular text was accidently sent to her dad. And he asked if lol meant lots of love. Great.)

Next text:

"Hes like shes infatuated with u, its the way she looks at u..."

Next text:

"He asked me if u were just a friend..."

Oh yeah, the man is onto us. (I feel like a teenager.) Still she refuses to tell him. He's practically begging her. It's her thing, but what he thinks of me is rather unnerving. I feel like a dirty old (wo)man stalker preying on the young and innocent. They leave in the morning. Nice people, but I will be glad to have my secretive gf back all to myself. Sheesh!

Here Goes Nothing

2008-12-31T13:58:00.000-08:00

Tonight is New Years Eve. I am going out with her and her parents. Which means I am meeting them for the first time. I am so nervous. Everyone keeps telling me to be myself. Problem is she's not out to her parents. They know, but she's not officially told them , so no hand holding and NO kissing!!! They'll like me, but will they like me as their daughters girlfriend? I feel like I am going to toss my cookies. I'm excited and nervous and happy and scared. She'll be here in an hour and a half. i wonder if they are nervous to meet me? Knowing I am having sex with their little girl. Even if it's unconfirmed. This is called nervous rambling. My fingers re even shaking like my voice would be if I was talking this out. Wish me luck! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

Is There a Point When Losing Yourself Turns Into an Evolution of Self?

2008-12-31T13:33:00.001-08:00

I have felt very lost and unsure as of late. I can remember when the feelings started stirring and what brought them about. It's her. It's my financial inferiority to her. I decided early on that it would start to weigh on her that I was poor. And I am. You would never know by certain things, but if you look at my bank account, I'm poor. In fact below poverty level would best describe me. The difference has never bothered her. It bothers me though.

She never flaunts her status. I never look out of place when we go out. There's just my feeling of not belonging in her world. I even think that as a person, I am good enough for her. I also think that I am projecting all of these feelings on her and in my own sadistic way, I am pushing her away.

Onto the above titled question. I feel like I have lost myself in trying to be someone better for her. Like I am buying clothes like crazy and eating foods I don't normally eat. Just to make myself feel like I fit with her. In the beginning, before I decided in my head that she would get tired of my financial situation, I was happy. I think she was happier too. (Her happiness, though, wanes and waxes as it is, so who knows why.)

The food I consume must be wrangled under control. I was dabbling in the dairy a little before her, but I was still really careful about how much I ate. Now, it seems that it's a free for all. The clothes are breaking my already broken bank. Then again, I love looking good. I love the way it feels when people pay attention to me cuz I look good. I really don't give two shits about most people I meet because I meet so many and I am picky about my friendships; so why all the sudden do I care what they think about my clothes?

This whole outward appearance thing has been evolving for the last two years though. Since I became single and came out. I have wanted to look good, but my own style. Now don't get me wrong, I am not looking at the latest Cosmo for my New Years outfit or anything. I'm not that into it for God's sake. Just care about myself a little more now.

I also want to make very clear that she is NOT the reason for my self-conciseness. I am. These are all thoughts in my head. She has never asked me to be anyone but myself. So is this just a new extension of me? An evolution? Or am lost in some stupid notion of having to be someone I am not for a girl? Comments are welcome, as always. And please be honest.

For Their Sake

2008-12-24T13:25:00.000-08:00

I really need to pick myself up off the ground and get the spirit. I just can't. I mean what did they ever do to get a sad mom? It's not fair to them. I used to love Christmas. Now I hate it. I hate everything it stands for. The buying frenzy (cause I'm broke), the lights (cause I have nobody to drive around and look at them with. Believe me, the kids complain), the parties (because I am alone) the baking (because I never want to be fat again) the people making it about family (cause I don't have one).

A friends mom emailed me from out of town and asked me to get something for her daughter from her so she would have something to open. My mom would never think about doing that. My mom hates me.

It's supposed to be a magical time of year for the kids. Instead they have been watching me cry for the week. They don't deserve me, the should have been born to someone who has their shit together. I forced myself to put up the tree, but I couldn't even help them decorate it. When I was kid, the whole family would decorate together. My mom would put on her Johnny Mathis Christmas album and we would lovingly unwrap the ornaments and remember each one from the year before.

I know when I lost the magic. It was the Christmas of 98. My new year started off with me telling my parents I was pregnant. My mom called me a slut, a whore, what have you. She called A1 a bastard. All of these things in front of my roommate who also had a child out of wed lock. Except my mom went and found my roommate and her son to tell them that she was a lovely mother and that her son was not a bastard. The terrible labels belonged to me alone. That year, we had no money for a christmas tree and Ry, formally the fat man (who is still fat, but I don't care to give him so much of a name anymore) asked his dad to borrow money to buy a tree because it meant so much to me. In Ry's haste and because he didn't give two shits, he bought a tiny, DEAD tree.

He didn't care. The one holiday I cared so much about, he didn't. Every night I cried myself to sleep staring at that dead tree wishing for the simpler times of no kids, no cares. I love A1 and all my boys and most times of the year, I would never wish they were someone else's. Now I do. Now I wish they had someone who could decorate the tree with them. Someone who could get out of bed. Someone who had wrapping paper right now.

You Know You Do

2008-12-23T23:02:00.000-08:00

You know that utterly amazing feeling of meeting this great person, having that instant connection? You know you do. Even if you're married, you probably still dream of it. I know I did. I love that feeling. What I don't love is that it goes away. When she goes away. And doesn't call, but every three days, because its not her way. Nevermind your feelings. Nevermind that you even brought it up to her that communication is necessary. That you need it. Then she comes back in town and things are suppose to be perfect again. And they are. Is it because you're putting your feelings aside? Not sure? Neither am I.

Right now and really every time she leaves and there is little communication, I feel a great disconnect. In the beginning she told me that all of her gf's have cheated on her and I couldn't figure out why. Now I know it's because she's a wee selfish. Honey, just cuz you don't feel like communicating, doesn't mean you don't have to.

I think I will know the real extent of this lack on Xmas. I hate Xmas. I don't want to go into the why's now, but I cry alot around this time. If I get a text on Christmas, which is also our 3 month anniversary, I might have to rethink things. Who am I kidding? She'll be back, I'll be closed off for a couple of hours and then BOOM, right back into routine, til she leaves again. (All this is really starting to take a toll on my self-confidence.)

I don't ask for much. The talk doesn't even have to be on the phone. Emails. Pictures. Texts. But not just on her time. But when I need her too. It always something. It's not like I need her all the time. In fact, i go through most of my day not thinking about her much. And even that's scary. Shouldn't I be thinking about her more? The only thing I have been thinking lately is if I am somehow trying to sabotage this relationship.

I have a hard time thinking about a future with her. She wants the big house, brand new even, a strain in the environment. New furniture. A virgin piece of land. I want a one room cabin with an old wood burning stove in the heat the whole place. At least she agreed to look into straw bale building. People, I know it's really early in the relationship to be thinking this way, but I question whether or not to bide my time with her, or cut my losses before the hurt runs deeper.

People change. I certainly am not the same person I was 7 years ago when I was her age. She's really young. She's lived an extremely privileged life. I sometimes think I am a novelty to her. A taste of real life.

Don't get me wrong. She has amazing qualities and we have amazing conversation. Laying with her in bed is perfect. We fit. We have fabulous sex. (I am showing her that penetration is a good thing, just like someone showed me.) She is so soft and 98% percent of the time give super advice. The other two percent was for when she told me spanking was good. Otherwise, the girl keeps me grounded. She puts me in my place when I set adrift. She smells good. She's beautiful. She's such a deep thinker. Wow, sometimes the words that come out of her mouth are intense. We laugh in abundance. We cry together. She is so strong; in character and physical strength. She can calm me without words. She seems to know me. She needs me. She seeks comfort in my arms. She's warn and generous. She is also compassionate.

Maybe her lack of communication is a sign from the universe that when I think I need someone, I really just need me. I must rely on me. Maybe I am making excuses. Xmas is in a day. She gets back in 4 days...with her parents, who she outted me to. She's not even out to them, although from the line of questioning, the are begging her to trust them to love her no matter what. I am not sure how all this will work while they are here. I do know that I have a date with all three of them on New Years at the swanky Mastro's Ocean Club. I will be taking advantage of the all you can drink lemon drop martini's; that's for damn sure!!

I guess I will find the right solution to my dilemma in good time. I just need to be patient and remember that I am not stuck in a dead end future anymore.

Friendship by Henry David Thoreau (Merry Christmas my friends)

2008-12-21T16:08:00.000-08:00

I think awhile of Love, and while I think,
Love is to me a world,
Sole meat and sweetest drink,
And close connecting link
Tween heaven and earth.
I only know it is, not how or why,
My greatest happiness;
However hard I try,
Not if I were to die,
Can I explain.

I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.

For if the truth were known, Love cannot speak,
But only thinks and does;
Though surely out 'twill leak
Without the help of Greek,
Or any tongue.

A man may love the truth and practise it,
Beauty he may admire,
And goodness not omit,
As much as may befit
To reverence.

But only when these three together meet,
As they always incline,
And make one soul the seat,
And favorite retreat,
Of loveliness;

When under kindred shape, like loves and hates
And a kindred nature,
Proclaim us to be mates,
Exposed to equal fates
Eternally;

And each may other help, and service do,
Drawing Love's bands more tight,
Service he ne'er shall rue
While one and one make two,
And two are one;

In such case only doth man fully prove
Fully as man can do,
What power there is in Love
His inmost soul to move
Resistlessly.

Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
Withstand the winter's storm,
And spite of wind and tide,
Grow up the meadow's pride,
For both are strong

Above they barely touch, but undermined
Down to their deepest source,
Admiring you shall find
Their roots are intertwined
Insep'rably.

The Reason Behind My (Un)Motivation

2008-11-17T09:17:00.000-08:00

I haven't felt my usual self lately. I don't want to work or go to school. I am just so angry about all the anti-gay measures that passed. I HATE that I work at a place that I love, but 98% of the people are super Christians. All but one voted Yes on 102. They trust and like me enough to let me work with kids and pray for me, but not to give me rights. I think by the first of the year, I will have a new job. I can't work side by side with them anymore. I don't need to be in an all gay environment, I just need to be with open minded and hearted people. I have no problem with religion either. It's not for me, but that's ok. I just can't be around so much hatred and ignorance. I need an ally there. I am really sad that it has to come to this. It's the only thing I can think of that's bringing me down. I have an amazing girlfriend who I am falling more madly in love with every moment. I have great friends, enough student loan money to supplement what I can't afford and awesome kids who keep my busy and on my toes. Everything else is great. It's no use trying to reason with them to see it from my point of view. The church tells them how to live and that's how they do it. Stopping now. Too sad to write about any more.

Her

2008-11-14T10:00:00.000-08:00

All these feeling I have for her are undeniable.
I haven't even tried,
like usual,
to push them away for fear of later pain.

I want to be fully
consumed
by her.

I want to wake every morning

with her by my side,

with her in my arms,

with her scent embedded in my olfactory,

the touch of her skin lingering on my fingertips.

I hear her
laugh
in the
wind.

Her smile
brightens
my darkest thoughts.

The taste of her

sweet body

lasts on my tongue.

Her breath on my
neck
awakens my soul.

The softness of her
eyes
right before she kisses

me

can take me to heaven
and
back.

She is my
balance.
She is my
calm.
She is my
hope.

This is only the
beginning.
What is to come
remains
to be seen.

My future is inspired
With her by my side,
countering my harsh
with her softness.

Good Things to Come?

2008-11-14T08:03:00.000-08:00

Election night was bittersweet. Obama won. I am still not convinced that he's not the anti-christ, but at least according to what I have read, the Rapture happens before the anti-christ comes into power. So far, no Rapture; this might be an ok thing. I pretty much knew that Prop 102, here in AZ, would pass. I knew because people I talked to were sure it wouldn't. They were complacent. I and several others, on the other hand, fought like it had every chance to pass.

I wish I could be complacent. I wish I could complacent. I go to work and think, gee these people really value and respect me. Instead, I look at all my uber-Christian co-workers and think, "Wow, you people really are happy to just follow the word of your preacher, who is just as apathetic with the word of his mentor." Nobody really took into consideration that these amendments aren't really about marriage, but about the rights afforded by marriage.

I won't get into the rights here, because most of the people who read this are well versed in the rights they are currently denied, now as a constitutional law. I will say that my relationship with my coworkers is strained because of their ignorance, but I am even more upset with my own community.

It used to be a rarity to have a "gay" friend. Now it's very much more prevalent. I would say almost every one knows someone who is gay, so gay is out there, but not enough. Just as white and black people tend to segregate themselves into different neighborhoods and social situations, so do queers. Almost every large city has a gay district. All the bars, shops and perfectly decorated lofts are located there. It's where, if you could afford to live in that fag mecca, you would in a heartbeat. Some people, I am guilty too, only go to gay bars. For many reasons, this is a safe and happy way of life.

We live in these bubbles and occasionally pop out to go to straight club for an acquaintances or coworkers birthday. Oh, and political rallies the week before an election that has the potential to make us constitutionally second class citizens. Where was the anger before that? Where was the drive to fight? It was put into finger pointing about who should be raising the money, who raised more, who's responsibility it was to make and distribute signs and buttons. it was pointed at each other, Such a waste of energy.

So what really caused Prop 102, 8, 2 and 1 to pass? I believe fear drove the people to vote as they did. What is causes fear? Simply put, the unknown. Many of the bloggers that I follow talk about how the "outside community" doesn't know us. What they see is the two really hot doctors kissing on Grey's Anatomy, the amazingly slutty* antics of the girls on L-Word or the boys from QAF and stereotypes of bull daggers and drag queens. They don't see law abiding, tax paying, open minded, big hearted, child rearing citizens and PEOPLE. Who's fault is that?

Ours. We can't expect to live in our predominantly gay neighborhoods, have mostly gay friends and have only gay causes on our agenda, then demand to be excepted. We MUST step out of your bubble, ladies and gentlemen. We MUST stop segregating ourselves. Be part of the "outside community" in a huge and undeniable way. I dream that we get to a point where we drop the "outside" from community. That's what we are fighting for isn't it? Inclusion and yet we live exclusive lives of our own design.

MAKE the world see you as equal.

Ok this is last thing I want to talk about in this disjointed blog post. Follow this link. Do you see something wrong with half of these pictures? I do. Fighting hate with hate? Really? I mean for reals? That always accomplishes so much. (<- That's sarcasm.) We can fight this without hateful slogans and demeaning signs. I say. Go for dignity. It may take longer to get the point across with dignity, but boy will it feel better in the end.

http://bittenbyazebra.jalbum.net/Prop%20H8%20Demonstration%20(NYC,%20Nov.%2012,%202008)/

That's all I got for right now.

(*Let it be know that the word slutty is an adjective to describe how other's may conceive women and men who sleep with many. I think live and let live. Just be safe.)

Thoughts Before The Election

2008-11-01T12:23:00.001-07:00

I don’t want to live in this country anymore.

I am so sick of all this fighting. I am ashamed of what this election has brought forth in this country. I am even more ashamed that all of this underlying RACISM and blatant HATE exist in a country that’s motto is liberty and justice for all. It’s just all bullshit now. There is no liberty. There is no justice.

I have only seen the worst of people this election year. I may not respect my opposition’s opinion, but I will not deface their signs, steal their ads, make up lies about them, hack their websites, attack their religious practices, or spout racism and hate all over the media. Am I and a (relative) handful of other people the only people who see what this is doing to our country and our world?

I have seen fundraising in paramount proportions. Where is this money going? To fight for rights which we should already have. Rights that should have been afforded with the original constitution. This money is also going to measure that would take these rights away from citizens. Or, rather further keep these rights from American citizens.

All the while, our economy is so poor that people I know have lost their jobs. Others are losing their homes. I am talking losing the roof over their heads. HOMELESS. Some with children.

Our children are losing themselves to media and advertising ,their parents handing over their parenting rights to the TV and blaming the producers and writers for their children’s erratic behaviors.

Our nation is growing food for fuel. A fine idea indeed, except that hunger is abundant, our land is being raped of nutrients and our skies still continue to fill with dust and smog.

Our country is full of “I want it now-ers”. We want our cake now. We don’t care if it’s the cooks only grandchild’s 1st birthday, if the field the wheat came from is so poisoned that the farmers wife and children are dying of a brand new, indefensible cancer, or that the eggs are laid by chickens made lame by human indifference. This is just a metaphore. Insert, toys, electronics, stupid oppressing laws, or whatever you want in place of cake. Its all the same.

Instead of thinking about our actions and future, we just take and take and take until we have to invent something else to take because we’ve depleted our original supply. To live aware is a new age concept. There are books written and movies made about it. The thing is that living an aware life should not be a foreign concept.

It’s not even hard. Be aware that our actions have consequences, both positive and negative. Think about what you are doing and saying before you do it. Really think. The words that you think are as powerful as the ones that come out of your mouth because your inner thoughts determine your outer presence.

In this election, people’s inner thoughts are finally coming out. The negativity and HATE that I have felt in our toxic country is finally surfacing. HATE looks like my co-workers and neighbors. HATE looks like my fellow protesters. HATE is comments on a blog meant to spread love. HATE is slogans and chants at political rallies. HATE is not voting for someone based on skin color and name. NAME for fuck’s sake. People what are we coming to?

So either we all come to a collective decision to live aware or we all drown in our negativity, sadness, anger, grief, and stuff we buy to forget these things. I will not drown and if I can help it, neither will you.

New Photo Blog, MySpace and FaceBook

2008-10-18T20:06:00.000-07:00

L and L, JLB and I started a No On 102 grassroots campaign. Please visit the blog at www.noon102.blogsome.com and friend yourself at the myspace at www.myspace.com/noon102 or somewhere on the Facebook. I'll get back to you on that. Check it out and put it on your #1 spot!!! WE WILL DEFEAT THIS!!!!!!!!

BOYCOTT Coldstone Creamery!!!!

2008-10-10T10:52:00.001-07:00

Coldstone Creamery owners, Donald and Susan Sutherland, just donated $10,000 to Yes on 102. Their donation can be found on Page 16 of the Prop 102 Donors page.

http://www.azsos.gov/cfs/PublicReports/2008/1660B06E-2440-4978-8490-1308210055EA.pdf

Do your part to NOT support a company who doesn't support equal rights.

All Fired Up

2008-10-02T16:25:00.000-07:00

I just heard a commercial on the radio station 102.5, KNIX, for Yes on 102. Yes, I knew once I heard one I would be floored, but really, this pissed? Even I didn’t expect what I was about to hear! I quote, “... a man wants respect, but a woman, she just wants love.”

What the fuck kind of sexist, patriarchal imperative do we still abide in? I have a vagina and self-identify as female AND I WANT RESPECT ALSO!! What woman out there doesn’t? Sadly, I am sure there are plenty that have been brought up to believe that they don’t deserve respect.

Well, listen up ladies, YOU DO!

And another thing, how is changing the Arizona amendment to defining marriage as “between one man and one woman” going to give a woman who “only wants” love more love? Or less love for that matter!

I have to say ladies, I am not so sure it’s the men holding us down any more. I think WE NEED TO TAKE MORE INITIATIVE TO RISE UP!!! Once I say nothing or no one will hold me down, I mean it!

Men have no more rights than women, they are just more assertive about taking them. Well fuck that! This goes for all you queers, people of color, transquestioning and transgender, feminist males and YOU! Fight for your rights! BE LOUD!!!

I have the right to marry whomever I love. I have the right to earn respect from my partner and she has that same right! I am tired of fighting half ass!

My plea to you is simple. Let KNIX know what you think about them running such a sexist ad. I know they were paid a fair amount, but they could have said NO! Write to raymassie@clearchannel.com (Am I surprised Clear Channel is the mother company? NOPE. Not at all.) and the producer Joe at joe@knixcountry.com. Let them know you will not stand for this. Inundate inboxes. DEMAND they take the ad off the air.

This oppression has gone on far to long and it won’t go away until WE MAKE IT GO!

I don’t dispute freedom of speech rights, but I will not support a radio station that blatantly oppresses woman and lets one of its’ advertisers tell all who listen that women don’t want respect, only love! What is that telling little girls and young women? All you need is another’s love to be happy? It is simply NOT TRUE!

This year THREE states are trying to ban GAY marriage once and for all. Arizona, California, and Florida all have Propositions on their states ballot this November. All three are such a waste of money! In Arizona and Florida, proponents of “one man one woman” laws are essentially trying to double ban gay marriage. Gay marriage is already banned in both states. In Arizona, this attempt to define has already been thrown out in 2006.

GET FED UP ALREADY PEOPLE!! THIS IS YOUR TAX MONEY BEING WASTED!! Start demanding that the money being spent trying to oppress people, be spent helping them rise to their full potential! EDUCATION in the state of Arizona could use a boost. (And I don’t mean ABSTINENCE ONLY education.)

For a state who’s beloved governor is a dyke (speculation only, since she’s not out), we sure have a close minded view of the world. And by close minded, I mean NEO-CHRISTIAN. (Christian means Christ like and I just don’t see love and acceptance of all people anywhere in your Christianity.)

And to the government, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY PERSONAL LIFE!

Write one letter. Short and to the point. Copy and paste it! Take my blog. Copy and paste it, pass it along to everyone you know! GET THE WORD OUT THAT WOMEN (PEOPLE) WILL NO LONGER ACCEPT SEXISM! Expect people to argue with you and be educated about your return argument. Email me if you need book suggestion. Go to feministing.com. They are a marvelous resource and a good read!

No More Lying Down! Take A Stand!

Categorically Speaking

2008-09-23T00:17:00.000-07:00

I have to say musicians and poets are hot. Specifically folk, indie rockers and slam poets!! More specifically chics who like chics. There is something about a woman on stage. Some people get turned on by a uniform, but not me. I like a girl who has amazing words in her head and shares them with me. I like a girl who sweats doing what she loves, I like a girl who lives her dreams and her poetry. Real woman with their own fuck-everyone-else style. Tee shirts and jeans. Bad hair and fucking rad hats. Smiles, knowing who they are and knowing they are doing what they love. I love these same girls not on stage. Using music to make a difference in the world. For some their stage is an office, their audience a five year old. The poet who performs once a month in a coffeehouse, with one patron. And yet she comes back. Her word is solid, her conviction unwavering. (I have no conclusion to this because I am off in LaLaLand, dreaming of the day I make Andrea Gibson my wife and I, hers.)

Too Sad To Write

2008-09-14T18:11:00.000-07:00

So I haven’t written in a while because, as the title suggests, I have been a little too sad to write. I have a lot going on and I wonder daily, minutely, really, if I will make it on my own. Independence was one thing when I was alone, but kids and a mortgage really complicate things. I am sure that the choices I have made in the last two years have been the right ones, but I wish I would have known how hard it would be to execute once I got to this point. Then again, maybe if I did know, I would have chosen differently.

T’s gone. She left last Wednesday. She left me months ago though. As her deployment date came nearer, she pushed me further away. These last two months have included some of the most painful days in my life. I cry everyday for a week then I can’t squeeze out a tear for another week. I am less upset about her pushing me away as a lover, than as one of her closest friends.

Worse than being pushed away was being replaced. At least she replaced me with really great grrls. I have been put on hold for them, told I was going to get a call back because one or the other was calling, had plans changed because of them. I bear them no ill will. I get why she wants them in her life. What I don’t understand it why I can’t also be there.

I am not asking to be a lover. Although, sometimes I think I would give almost anything to be in her arms again. Safe, like it was in the beginning; before Easter weekend. I could probably go on and on for paragraphs about the warmth and the comfort, but we all know that feeling; even if we don’t have it now, we have. I just want her, the old her, to acknowledge me again.

I don’t think she has any clue how bad she is hurting me, or rather I am letting myself be hurt by her. Right before she left, she sent me a text and told me that she loves me very much. It also said that she knew things would get better for the both of us. What does it mean? When she is so mean to me, I think I am done with her, then I get a text like that one.

I know I am supposed to grow as a person during this time. I know I have been given this separation, by the universe, to clear my head of old ideas about needing someone in my life to make it stable. Other relationships are being threatened by the universe right now as well. MsJ, who I have been spending a considerable amount of time with, is entertaining a crush. Nothing has happened and I very much like the girl she’s crushing on, I am just scared I will be left alone. It’s stupid, I know. People move on, but I seem to be stuck in some kind of emo hell.

School started. As expected, I love it. I love the rhythm of my schedule. I have at least one class every weekday. My biggest challenges will be accepting the people in my math class and ignoring them and my English class in general. My English teacher already said to me in front of the class, “No offense, but this class isn’t like blogging at all; you have to write complete sentences.” Wow. I stayed after class to clear that up.

I will push through. I can do it. Even if I do cry every day. I barely talk to J anymore. She has her job, the kids and JsM and I have my job, the kids and school. I also have some new business of getting parts of the house rebuilt after a massive storm a few weeks ago. That relationship is in peril. I am slightly hurt that she spends all her free time with JsM. Another lesbian falls into the domestic trap. She says she needed to pull away from being social, but even phone calls are difficult because of one or another thing to do with JsM. There’s no autonomy, at least that I can see.

Writing this, I can see something very clearly. I seem to be either a jealous person or a possessive one. Either way, my friends, I have a problem on my hands. I love these light bulb moments and I hate them.

The Backlash

2008-08-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

My dad called me today to tell me that the family knows about my last post. I posted the same blog on myspace. I admit, it was not a good idea. I only did it to stir the pot. I have flaws in my judgement sometimes and that was definitely one.

Can anyone guess where the outrage is directed? That’s right, at me. Not only am I am out feminist, out anit-Republican and an out queer, I am also a whistle blower to my uncles sexual harassment and female oppression. Imagine that, a woman who stands up and says. “You can’t do this to me.”

My dad says unless I apologize, which I won’t, then I won’t be invited to [Xanax inducing] family functions anymore and my mom may never speak to me again. My dad also says that it was inappropriate to air the dirty laundry on the internet. (None of this was threatening, but merely facts being stated.)

You want to talk inappropriate, Dad? How about how I was treated? But that’s not quite as inappropriate as airing, I suspect. He said I should write it in my journal to get it off my chest and forget about it. (What chest? Hehe!)

I don’t write much about my parents on here. My dad is a good man who tries to keep everyone happy. That’s really all he wants in life. He was more upset that there was another rift in the family, than he was about who or what caused it. I still think both he and my mom should have stuck up for me immediately, but they didn’t. My dad also has to face the wrath of my mom.

I don’t know too much about how my dad grew up, only little tidbits. I do know that he was physically and emotionally abused by his father. His mother, a grandmother I never met, was his light, but she died very young after a lifetime of debilitating and disabling arthritis. He was often left to his own defenses as a young child; as a result he sustained some interesting injuries, like a pitchfork through his shoulder and a near drowning in the sewer ditch.

My dad joined the navy when he was seventeen to escape his family. He lied about his age and dropped out of school to join.He spent time in the navy, aboard a ship, as a seamster during the Vietnam conflict. When he got out of the Navy, he joined the fire department and remained there until his retirement. While with the department, my dad helped fight against sexual and age discrimination and harassment. My dad was injured on the job and became disabled and subsequently fired from his position as chief, a policy he also fought against.

My mom grew up in the 50’s and 60’s. She came from a strict Catholic family. My grandfather was the formidable head of the family, when he was home. He was a Spaniard who grew up in Mexico; his is a family of heavy handed men and their quiet women. My mom and her two sisters and two brothers had to wear shoes in the house or face getting a beating. It was a speak-when-spoken-to household. If he were alive, my grandfather would have excommunicated me when I got my first pair of men’s 501 buttonfly’s at 9 years old. (He died shortly after my Uncle B, the oldest son, was killed in Vietnam.)

My grandmother was a very strong woman. She had a degree in Biochemistry very early on and worked in a lab. Once when my grandfather bought a car without her knowing, she kicked him out for not asking. She kept the car, though. She taught her girls to be “ladies”, as well as strong woman. She believed that her daughters could do anything they set their minds to. The way my mom taught me.

My parents have never agreed on many things. My mom’s way of living is “my way or the highway”, my dad begrudgingly follows suit. It was apparent growing up that they shouldn’t be married, but they wouldn’t get a divorce because they felt that would be an unstable environment for my two sisters and I. As it is now, they are still [unhappily] married. My dad takes really long road trips to be away and my mom speaks poorly about my dad.

Both my sister El and I are divorced and my other sister K is determined not to marry. We didn’t really learn how to be in a loving relationship. So my last 20 months have been spent learning how to love and be loved by observation and experimentation. I might be catching on.

Growing up, I was taught to be “lady-like”, but also not to take shit from anyone. My parents wanted me to speak my mind, but not too loud. They both avoided subjects like sex and drugs. (They were both 420 friendly.) I was allowed to dress how I wanted if I could take my mom’s constant criticism and ridicule. My mom also told me that family was the most important thing in my life. They would always have my back.

Early, I learned that my family would never have my back. They only have my back if I conform to their beliefs. My queer family is who I count on. I once read that friends are the family you choose for yourself. I choose very carefully who I consider a friend, but I know I can come to my “family” for anything and there will be someone to help.

I have learned good manners and how to give a firm handshake. My parents raised me to be the spirited, self-assertive person I am. I give them credit for that foundation. As far as sticking up for myself, that is something I have had to learn alone.

In my family the woman wear the pants, with one exception, Uncle G. Whatever asinine thing the man says is excused, requited or, dare I say, ignored. He doesn’t really let things be ignored. Had I not walked away last Saturday and, instead, kept telling him to mind his own business, I would have been embroiled into a losing battle. (The speaking contest is never intellectual, it’s always physical; who has the most breath to waste.)

My dad told me yesterday that my mom and her sisters are afraid to stand up to Uncle G. He said that the women don’t want to face the same derision that I am subject to; although Uncle G gives it to them in small doses. He’s a negative man who is quick to point out all of one’s flaws. Still nobody wants the full burden of mockery, so I guess I’ll keep it. (I think it’s fair to mention that his one daughter, who is 14...15, is extremely subjugated, by not only her father, but her two younger brothers and her mother. Sadly, until she is 18, there is nothing I can do about it because I am not allowed near her. I am hoping my sister K might be able to help.)

I haven’t heard from any other family members yet. I don’t expect to. I know that they are all seething and pretty much want me out of their lives. No more myspace. I learned that lesson. I will not shut up about injustices. I will never quit defending myself or anyone else in need. Oddly enough, I have my blood family to thank for that.

Dirty Uncle

2008-08-10T14:56:00.000-07:00

I went to family function last weekend. Anyone who knows me, knows how much I dread seeing my mom’s family. My cousins seem to be better to me lately, but my mom’s brother and one sister can still suck my cock!

The last family thing I went to was a little over a year ago. It was my uncles funeral. I loved my uncle, he was a really neat person. I stayed inside at the lunch after the funeral. It’s Arizona in June, it was hot, I was wearing black. Anyway, I was really quiet.

The next day, I received a call from my Aunt B. I was at a E’s house when the call came in. Aunt B was yelling at me, telling me if I had something to say to her, that I should just say them to her face and not disrespect her in her home. Needless to say, I have no idea what she was talking about.

I avoided all contact with them until Aunt B’s surprise birthday party, last weekend. The kids were allowed to visit with them on New Years.

I was really nervous about going. My sister K drove while I knitted to stay calm. We arrived at the resort early, so we could spend the day by the pool. When we got in the lobby, my dad called us into the dining room. There were about twenty family members and friends in the room at two tables, 95% male-identified.

I made my rounds and said hello to everyone I knew. When I got to my Uncle G, we said a stiff hello. G is a bigot, a racist, a homophobe and a Mormon. (I do have some very open minded Mormon friends. I am not a Mormon hater.) The following conversation took place in front of about 15 men. Most I didn’t know.

UG: “Hi J-. How are you?”

Me: “Fine. You?”

UG: “Your boobs are getting smaller.”

Me: “What?”

UG “Are you boobs getting smaller? It sure looks like it.”

Me “Why are you looking at my chest?”

UG “Cuz I can. And later we need to talk about your lesbian problem.”

Me: “No we don’t. It’s none of your business.”

UG: “Yes it is and yes we will.”

I walked away angry and embarrassed. It occurred to me while I was standing there that he has many preconceived notions about lesbians. Like all lesbian bind their breasts. I don’t. I am and have always been blessedly small chested.

The man did not speak to me the rest of the weekend. When I told my dad, his excuse was that my mom’s brother was drunk. When I told my mom, she said, Honey, that’s just your uncle. So I guess it’s okay then, right? No.

Why am I the only person who thinks this was wrong? Not only was my mother’s brother looking at my chest and commenting on it, with assertive authority that he had ever right to do that, but the fucker outted me in to everyone at that table.

Am I just taking this too personally? Or do I have the right to be angry?

Stay and Fight or Defect, Then Decide All Over Again In 4 Years

2008-07-31T12:43:00.000-07:00

I just finished watching the second to last episode of Queer as Folk. I am trying to pace myself. Much like the Harry Potter books, I will be lost, lonely and longing for months after I finish. Without giving too much away, Pittsburg folks are endorsing or opposing Proposition 14, an action that will essentially permanently take away the rights of gay people.

It’s TV, I am very aware of that; but it’s so much more real when I get an email saying Vote NO on Prop. 102. What proposition is this? It is the real life proposed amendment to the Arizona State Constitution, stating that forever and ever, no matter what comes of federal civil rights laws, marriage in the great, dry state of Arizona shall henceforth be ONLY between “one man and one woman”. http://www.votenoprop102.com (This is also a problem in California. Proposition 8)

In the past I have taken a pretty nonchalant stance on gay marriage. I’ve been in a real life, legally binding (and metaphorically bound) marriage. A piece of paper, I’m sure not recycled, to keep in a safe place and a poured, pounded, buffed piece of metal to show the world I was a spoken for, kept, woman. If all the rest of ya’ll want that, I’ll stand by you, but I’ll be damned if I say “I Do” it again. I revise my stance.

Fast forward to today, this hour, this minute, this second. I am infuriated by what I see all around me. I see complacency of my fellow citizen. I see lazy. I see God in politics. I see an “It doesn’t really affect me” attitude. Guess what? It does. Gay, Bi, Straight, Asexual, however you identify, IT affects YOU, your mom, your dad, your sister, your brother, your future children, your neighbor and your enemy. Civil rights being denounced, stolen, never rightfully given.

The argument against gay marriage? Gays will take over the “sanctity” of marriage. We will change it to fit our sodomitic needs, we will destroy it. The family values* of our country are being threatened.

*Barney the babysitter, online networking for tweens, video game brain death, sexy outfits for two year olds, McDonalds for all three meals on the go, keeping up with the Jones’ by mortgaging and leveraging everything owned [by the bank], promoted familial segregation with a TV in ALL rooms of the house and fear of sex, God and anyone not at least partially caucasian

I’d fight against it too, if I was brain washed into believing those are values of the family.

The fact of the matter is, America, gays are just as likely to raise their families with these same coveted values. I bet, per capita Wii sales between gays and straights are head to head, maybe leaning toward gays taking the lead because soon we won’t be able to walk down the street without a pink triangle band worn on our arm. Identify the enemy, the gay. Right, Herr Hitler?, I mean Mr. McCain [and supporters.] First civil rights, or to the lesser degree liberties, then we burn all the books by gay authors, about gay people, have a gay following or otherwise contain the words “gay”, “queer”, “anal”, “vagina”, “lesbian”, “closet”, or “trans”-anything, in the title, appendix, table of content or the text.

You think I am overreacting? Maybe not.
Civil rights have been fought for and obtained with shaky success over the years. The arguments for not granting these rights have been just as absurd as they are now, if not more so. One really good reason for the repression of the African American was that they had smaller brains. They could not make educated decisions, therefore should be forced to live in poverty and less than humane conditions. It takes someone very special to come up with, and stand by, this argument. Then along came the brave handful of people who said, “Gee, I wonder if we gave these second class, not-quite citizens, an education, their brains might grow as big and pink as ours.”

Thus begins the decline of American values. Oh wait, in fact, our society has actually benefitted from giving to our fellow person what we as the privileged white folk were always accustomed. The victories were slow to come but added up, land ownership, marriage, voting rights, spit sharing at water fountains, education. And whitey has not died yet.

Women. Our only purposes in this life are to serve men, continue the patriarchical blood lines, which we have no name claim to and cook and clean after them. We also have smaller brains, therefore, from the beginning of time to the 1920’s, we were not able to articulate politics and in the 60’s, began have free reign over our own bodies. In fact, we are still fighting over the uterus. A battle that should be commenced. Neither side wins, but both sides are piling casualties. Today, women are not allowed to be slaughtered by our government or another country’s on the front lines. Does our blood not bleed as red and profusely as a mans?

Once thought of as insurmountable, now labeled victories. We shall prevail.

Did you all notice God is actually running for president of this great country? (I puked in my mouth a little.) I have. Every issue this election is focused on, is ruled by the hand of God. Abortion. It’s God’s will that all babies are born, some unwanted, some unjustly planted and some terribly deformed, but, still, born. Gay marriage. God set down laws in that little book, written by a man, about who could get married. Iraq War. According to Tom DeLay, a very honorable man, indeed, “America was created by God to spread the Gospel; to spread the word of Jesus Christ and to propagate Christianity.” There you have it, we can and shall (by means of a silent nuclear threat) convert, I mean liberate, all oppressed Iraqis. (And Koreans and Vietnamese and Iranians. Turns out there is mass genocide in Africa, but the diamonds are being smuggled successfully, so no invasion there. Humanity effort, what?)

Here I want to bring up our soldiers. A country has a military for defense,although nowadays, that’s quite a medieval effort, since we have a missile pointed at all other countries on the new world map. Ours is mostly for invasion of countries who threaten our democracy, well, wealth, really. A person joins one branch or another, with the promise of money, travel and and an education grant (which may or may not be granted in full), is sleep, food and basic need deprived into compliance, then sent away with orders to kill and die for what is “right”. A choice one makes when they join. I defend that choice.

On top of the aforementioned choice, gays and lesbians make a further choice. To join a straight military and hide their crookedness. The problem is when their sodomizing and pussy licking ways are discovered, they are punished severely. Let me make mention that if a heterosexual gets caught performing fellatio, cunnilingus or acts of sodomy with an opposite-genitalialed person, they receive a slap on the wrist. These acts are forbidden by our armed forces, our government. Even in private. Even by hetero’s. So the punishment should be the same. It’s not.

As a side note, approximately 12% of the military is estimated to be gay or lesbian. Of that 46% of those discharged are woman accused of the propensity being homosexual. Does the male dominated military feel threatened by the up and coming female soldier?

As I am sure we all know, gay people have smaller brains. They cannot be trusted to be in the military. They might give away top secret information. (I think that means I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby is gay, since he leaked the top secret identity of Valerie Plame.) Did you also know that gays can be blackmailed easier, their “gayness” exposed if they don’t give up that top secret info. My argument to that is if the gay were out of the bag, there would be nothing to blackmail. Duh. The government did conduct a study that showed gay people were no more likely to be blackmailed than straight people, but that has been repressed for further investigation.

“The morale of a whole unit would decline” if someone who has proven to be strong, smart and trustworthy, is found to be gay. A gay person who survived the same basic training and self loss, with her/his head held high and proud, like the hetero next to her/him, is unwanted in this military.

The military’s 1993 policy on homosexuality in the armed forces, is “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”, or as I like to refer to it DADT. What about the straight people? Why can they tell? I hear the argument frequently that you may be gay, but why to you have to tell the world? I might ask you the same question. You may not wear a button that says straight, but the music you blare from your hummer says it all. Hetero love songs clog the airways. Who says I want to see you kissing in public either? (I actually don’t care who kisses whom.) It’s all the same, though. So I say either everyone is forced to be conforming robots, or everyone is let to be disciplined humans, who conduct themselves professionally and privately.

I just solved DADT. And the children haven’t suffered a bit.

How can we strengthen family values? Tear down back yard fences, dissolve the medias fear-based oppression by only getting news from foreign, more-reliable-than-domestic sources, turn off our TV and go outside, learn and use another language, even English, so you can speak fluently with your neighbor, let go of the long held notion that white is right, eat better food that you and your family grew together...the list can go on and on.

This government, for the people, by the people, has only one kind of person in mind, he’s RICH and WHITE. Our citizens are oppressed not by our government, but by our own, individual apathy. By law, each one of has the right to speak up for our beliefs without repercussion. Get loud. Fight for what you know is right. Even if I don’t agree with you.

Stepping down for now, but never shutting up!

M'i Yllaer Nwod Thginot

2008-07-17T16:40:00.001-07:00

I think I finally have to admit to myself that I am depressed. Not Prozac depressed, not even St John’s Wort depressed, but I am definitely not myself lately. I have to get out of this, like now! I really hate the way I feel.

I’m up all night and trying to hold it together for my boys the next day. I sometimes don’t even leave my room all day. Sometimes not even my bed. I disgust myself.

My boys are feeling my funk. Today, for reasons of attention and slight curiosity, I suppose, A2 and K, peed on each other, dumped applesauce on each other, spilled so much water out of the tub it was ridiculous and then preceded to stick their fingers in their buttholes to feel when their next poop would come. Normal kid stuff? The sugar I let them have? I don’t know.

My diet is shit right now too. Went back to having a little dairy in the diet; I was on a whole foods plant based diet for two years before February. I hate the way dairy makes me feel. I also added more and more sugar back and it seems I can’t stop. I did stop for a week, then I fucked it up again. I used to be a stickler for 5 or less ingredients in the processed foods I would buy. Now I buy whatever.

I don’t even want my phone on. I don’t want to hear from anyone. I don’t want to try and pretend I am cheery. I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to be alone. (With three midgets, that’s never the case, so why do I even bother wanting, really?) I force myself to be in social situations. The more I don’t want to do something, the harder I push myself to do it.

At least when I am alone in my room, I am productive, or my brain is. I read. I finished four books in the last four days. Two I started before last Friday and two I started and finished in a matter of hours. One was a romance novel. At least it was a lesbian romance by a decent writer. The sex scenes were worth reading two....or more times.

Check this out. I have a decreased sex drive!? I feel nauseated typing those words. The last time I had a low sex drive was when I was pretending to be a happy straight girl. No worries ladies, I am not going back to that. I just know that’s one of my signs that things aren’t good. If I think about sex, my body reacts, but I think I am cured of ensexilitis, that’s for sure.

I keep thinking I am going to have a shitty, lonely future. And I think I am thinking it into happening. Like The Secret says, the powers of attraction are strong. And I am attracting negativity in great amounts.

I just suck. I can’t stand myself. There’s not much else I can/should say.

Except, for some reason I am never out of words and my brain just won’t shut off.

HE told me today, HE is ready for the divorce. HE has all the paperwork on HIS desk. HE has found a lawyer who will help for free and HE is ready to move on. Quite a shock to me. You see, this man, if you will, has never taken initiative to do anything. So either HE grew balls or HIS girl is pushing HIM.

So I started all of this, I know. And I am so much happier finally being out. But I’m not happy now and HE is. HE has the right to be happy; in fact, me finding myself could possibly have been the best thing to happen to HIM since I came into HIS sorry life. (Interject a whiney voice here.) But it’s not fair.

How could I let this funk get so far that I am now a slave to it? How can I see the light? How can I sleep again? If anyone has a suggestion, I would love to hear it. Please.

Between The Guard Rails

2008-07-14T19:42:00.000-07:00

One thing I will never get to do is run my car off a cliff. Only because I’d die. I imagine the pure feelings of fear, joy, that sinking, falling feeling in my stomach, like in a fast elevator going down, the sound of the wind around my car and the ear shattering crunch of it hitting the bottom. I think of the feeling of my whole body collapsing down on itself. Lumbar into thoracic into cervical, my skull resting five inches lower. Do you think I could hear my bones being pulverized? Or do you think it would all happen so fast? I would be a pile of mush in the end. There’s no way I could live to tell about all those feelings, so I just have to imagine.

From time to time I think about driving down the freeway in reverse. Or the opposite direction of traffic. Dodging cars and semis. Weaving and winding, my heart racing, car horns blaring, angry words mouthed at me from windshields, the occasional fist out the window.

It’s nice to have an imagination. It’s safe.

Unlike love.

Love is all these sensations. Falling, yelling, fear, adrenaline, going in reverse, rapture, ear shattering, bone crunching, body collapsing; and that’s just the falling part. Heart pounding, dry mouth, shaking hands, that moment before you fall or jump or drive your car between the guard rails, when you realize what’s happening. Once you’re in that free fall, there’s no way to stop and no belt to hold you to your seat.

Or, that’s how I remember it.

In the end, you don’t think your crumpled body and failed heart will live. Feels like you will never, ever recover, your heart immobilized, your senses numb, your energy shut down to the possibility. Love eventually resolves though, but, who would ever want to fall again after a trauma like love? But you do, I do. And thus begins life again.

Why do I do this to myself? I’m not in love now, not even close, fighting hard not to be. Jumping from a cliff sounds better, there’s no recovery, no cycle to begin again.

Not Needs

2008-07-07T12:44:00.001-07:00

I have a confession. I had sex with T, just a few days ago. It was convenient, easy, comfortable, what have you. Saturday night, she was too drunk to drive home, just like the three previous nights in a row. She called and I offered to let her crash at my place. In my bed; because of all those reasons listed above. I haven’t slept so well in three months. Today, I went to a bbq that L and L had at one of the L’s houses. T was there.

We kissed. We held. We took pictures. L1 was saying something I couldn’t quite hear cuz of all the water in my ear. It sounded like she was telling T to get over herself and get back together with me. Like I said, I wasn’t quite hearing things right, so I waited til T and I were alone and I asked her.

T told me that L and L would like to see us back together. We are so cute together and made for each other and blah blah blah. I asked T if she felt that way and told her that I didn’t. I feel that we are much better off apart.

I know we are, so why am I up and thinking about this. I know I could let myself fall into this again, no problem. Why? Same as why I stayed with HIM. Same as why I don’t want to start over. Fear. I am afraid of having to get to know another person. I am afraid of letting go of fleeting moments of comfort. I am afraid of loving someone. I am afraid of hurting or being hurt. Again and again and again until I get it right. I am afraid I will never get it right.

When I got pregnant with A1, ten years and nine months ago, HE and I had a plan. I was going to get an abortion. I would terminate the pregnancy, in cold medical speak. Easier on the brain to say it that way, I suppose. I, in my silly science loving ways, started to research abortion. What happens to the mother, but more importantly, to the baby, fetus, zygote, embryo, what have you.

I was thorough in my research. I saw images and read stories, both good and bad. I read I would go to hell. I read that I was killing a baby. I read that I had every right to control my destiny and not only did I have that right, but I should exercise it at my will. I read about every procedure. Then at a book store, I saw what my “baby” looked like at 10 weeks. And I put it all together in my head. The choice for me was clear.

When I told HIM I was keeping the baby, I also told HIM that I didn’t need HIM to stick around. I chose to have this baby and HIS dreams should not be put on hold. I could not and did not want HIM to be stuck with a kid. HE had a future in art ahead of HIM and I did not want to be the person to slow HIM down. HE chose to stay with me.

The last sentence of that story is important. HE chose it, but in my heart I know that I chose for HIM. I chose not to have that abortion. I chose to forgo my dreams and slow HIS down.

My point is that I can’t do this to her. T. I can’t make her want to be a step-mommy. And I think that if I wanted this relationship to resume, she would do it. But what would I be taking away from her? How many of her dreams would she forgo just to be with me? I already wrecked HIS life, I can’t do it to another unwilling participant.

There are other reasons for not getting back together. Her drinking is a huge problem for me. She’s not an alcoholic, just a weekend binge drinker. She can’t just have one. She needs to get drunk. I am tired of trying to stop her from driving. Today, we had to stop her from doing a flip into the (shallow) pool. I don’t want to be another person’s mom.

I brought that up to L and L and one of them said maybe she was drinking this much because she misses me. Hello guilt, how are you today? It’s ridiculous, I know. I’m not to blame for her drinking and I know the L didn’t mean it that way.

They said that maybe while she was in Qatar, on her deployment, she would get some perspective. Just a tiny flame of hope flickered in my heart. But I am afraid for all the wrong reasons, that this small fire is relit. Hope is like luck, really just serendipity.

Oh the deployment. Four months with her gone. These last three months since we broke up have flown by. Like crazy fast. I know the months she’s gone will fly, but with how many incidences? Things happen, people meet people. What if when she gets back, there’s nothing between us?

What I really want right now is to have T in my bed. To be the girl that MsJ had her lip bit by, in an intimate kiss. I want to be certain of the future. I want to be safe. None of these things are reasonable wants in my world, but I guess that’s why they are wants, not needs.

Epiphany (Read Previous Post First)

2008-07-04T10:15:00.001-07:00

Ok, so twice this same night I opened my laptop and twice I pinched my legs. Dumb.

Well, JLB, you struck gold, my friend. I think with a few more therapy sessions like that, I might have a long and satisfying life.

1:44 a.m. the call comes in. JsM is up to her silly shenanigans again. Oh the wayward gay boy gets swooped up by our lady with short hair. JLB just wants to check with me to make sure she’s not the only one who thinks it’s crazy. And I don’t, because I would do the same. And maybe that’s what JLB is looking for. To make sure JsM isn’t crazy.

Anyway we get to talking about what MsJ said to me on the phone tonight. Good stuff in the previous blog, if you’re interested. We talked a little about how that was crappy and JLB agreed with me that MsJ had plenty of other friends to talk to about that. It actually didn’t have to be me.

Subject changed to KK. “What’s going on with that?”

“She’s just perfect. She wants to be in the mountains. She’s in tune with the earths’ energy. She doesn’t think I am cooky when I talk about ghosts. She’s just as earth conscience as I am. Not vegetarian, but was and knows the struggles. So what’s wrong with me? Two months ago I could have...and probably would have, fallen deeply, madly in love. But now, my heart is closed.”

And then when the words came from her mouth it hit me like a ton of wool yarn. (Weighs the same as a ton of bricks, but somehow doesn’t seem as painful.)

(I was just interrupted my my drunk sister and her best friend. K was laughing so hard I thought she was having an asthma attack. Last time her bf spent the night and they were this drunk, K woke up the next morning naked, with a trail of clothes leading from the bathroom. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.)

Anywho, back to the grand awakening. She said maybe it’s just not the right time for the two of you. [KK] Maybe that’s what MsJ was thinking. This girl’s perfect, why isn’t it happening with me? It might be a little naive of me to think that really is the reason, but it makes so much sense.

The thing is KK is perfect for me. I’m just not in the right frame of mind. It’s not the time for us. I want to know her. I want to hang with her. I want to teach her how to play cards. I want to enjoy a friendship with her. (I won’t lie, I wouldn’t mind fucking her.)

MsJ is good. She was never dishonest with me. She is always gay-forward. I didn’t really appreciate it until tonight. I didn’t realize how convoluted I have been with KK. I told her I didn’t want a gf, but that’s just silly words when I make out with her drunk.

I have to tell her most of this. I have to tell her how she is perfect for me in a bazillion different ways, but in a different time. Maybe next month, maybe next life. (I really hope I come back a lesbian. It’s the most fun and love I have had in all my lifetimes. I think...)

I wonder if this is really what MsJ was thinking. This will sure make it easier to be her friend and to stop beating myself up. It’s just not the right time. I actually believe these words for once.

Thanks JLB and thanks JsM for being a total dork and driving a drunk gay boy to the next bar to sober before he drove home. Without you, JLB wouldn’t have called. And without the gay boy’s motivation for getting drunk, JsM wouldn’t have had to drive. And perhaps the bad timing of love was the gay boys motivation. Full circle. Why not? Then the universe has harmony again. At least to me.

(No. I didn’t smoke before I wrote this. It’s hella late. 3:21 to be exact. The tea at Piezanno’s must be heavily caffeinated.)

Did This Convo Really Happen?

2008-07-04T10:14:00.000-07:00

Hell of a fucking day, really. Ending in a black out. God’s joke on me. “You had your air conditioning for a week, now I shall smite you!!” At least the rain cooled things down to a balmy 94 or some shit.

MsJ and I talked today. The boys wanted to say hi to her because they just got back home. So weird now with all this noise. So anyway, we talked and the subject of E and JLB came up. I knew right away where the conversation was going.

She asked if I was pissed about them having a relationship, with E and I being ex’s. I corrected her and let her know that E and I are not ex’s, never were together. I told her that I hated the relationship and it made me uncomfortable for oh so many reasons. All the while I am waiting for her to get to the point.

She couldn’t/wouldn’t, so I just came right out and asked, “Why? Is St upset about you and Js?”

She said, “I wasn’t gonna bring it up, cuz I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Well, fucking duh, it hurts! Stupid games. I wonder if she knows she plays them. I know I am not her only friend. Why’d she need to talk to ME about it? I know some of it had to do with the E/JLB disaster, but Jesus. Anyway, I hope she finds what she’s looking for in Js.

This story kinda segues, maybe, not really, into a myspace novel I got today from NC. She’s H.O.T!!! Makes my blood warm. She said that she bets I am a very loyal friend and alot of other nice stuff.

That I am. I would literally give anyone the shirt off my back and my last penny. And I feel like a fucking sucker for it every time and yet I go bare chested and penniless more than clothed and rich.

Most times this doesn’t bother me, but lately it has started to grate on my soul. What am I getting from all this? Just heartache and people who don’t deserve to have me in their company. Shitty girls who let me think they like me, then really maybe not. Fair-weather “friends”. (Friends is in quotes because I know they aren’t really friends, by the true definition of the word, but we all say we’re friends. You know?)

I am pulling away again, people. I am having a hard time understanding you all. You talk about not wanting the drama, then you invite it. That’s you, MsJ. I am just trying to figure things out, like, hibernation when you get a gf. That one really bothers me. And why the perfect girl could come along and I am not the least bit interested. Why do I, all of the sudden, want to be alone most of the time?

My electricity just came back on. So, tonight, at least, I have my true friends, Emmitt, Brian, Mikey, Lindsey, Mel, Ted, Justin, Vic and Debbie. They don’t give two shits about what’s happening with me, nor do they burden me with their shit. Why? Because they resolve it before the episode is over. If not the episode, then the season. (Except Ted who ended Season 3 in rehab and begins Season 4 still there. Just a hint for those who have no clue what I am talking about...QAF.)

At any rate, I’ll be around. Not going away completely, just trying to sort my brain out. We’re a mess right now.

Shout out to the new straight girls I met tonight, Sho and Ji!!! You two were funny as hell and I promise to write a whole blog about how there doesn’t have to be penetration to have sex. Stop thinking only cock. There are so many more creative and fulfilling ways to have sex. In the mean time, google that shit. There’s oodles of info out there!!

Hot New Yumminess

2008-06-28T12:56:00.000-07:00

Holy Cow I am emo lately. I am sorry for all of my faithful readers. I have slept, now, two nights without Tylenol PM or Xanex. Don’t fall asleep ‘til 3 in the morning and I am dragging my ass out of bed at 9, but I am trying to get a handle on things.

I have been immersing myself in alot of music. Getting excited about new bands and new-to-me musicians. Allison Miller is one of the new-to-me people I am interested in. She’s a drummer who plays with some of my favorite musicians and spoken word artists, such as Ani D, Melissa Ferrick, Erin McKeown, Alix Olson and Andrea Gibson. (Geez, I look like a homo or something!)

Well, Erin and Allison have formed a band called emma. Yes, lowercase. They describe themselves as electronic/ambient/minimalist. And indeed they are. The only place I have found a sampling of emma is on myspace.

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=179469515.

So worth the listen. Between Allison’s amazing drumming and Erin’s yummy voice, I can’t get enough. I have written to them and asked for a release date or some way I can purchase a cd, as they are independent and unsigned. As soon as I hear back I will let you all know. Oh, also, they are both super hot dykes!! That might be some of my infatuation. Since I am kinda ho-ish.

This is an Ani D video, with lots of Allison drumming and did I mention she sings too? Fucking HOT!!!! Would you look at those dimples!!!

This is Erin McKeown. Do you think if I beg, she will write me a song and I’ll find the love of my life? It’s worth a try.

I would be half mad to try and find a video of emma on youtube because there are a million and one videos with Emma in the title and I just cannot look through them all. Plus I don’t think there are any right now.

So go to myspace people and get out of whatever funk you are in by looking up hot girl musicians. Hopefully you are not like me in wishing your mother would have forced you to do something musical. Happy Saturday!!

The Measure

2008-06-28T12:03:00.001-07:00

MsJ asked me why I can’t just be alone. Why do I feel I need a girl in my life? I told her I don’t need anyone. I am perfectly capable on my own; which is true. I can run a household. Hold a job. Go to school. Parent. All of these things single.

But who cares; if I don’t have someone who cares about me, cheering me on. Oh yeah, we can bring my boys into this conversation. They won’t give a shit that I did it on my own for at least another 15 years. Maybe longer. They won’t validate me until I don’t need validation anymore.

I want to be motivated, I want to be loved. I want to share my achievements with someone. I want to share my life. I feel so alone. Nobody cares anymore. I don’t even care anymore. I’m just a robot doing what’s right for them. Watching everyone else in my life find love and validation.

They deserve it, but so do I. Where’s mine? So I sit alone in my room, crying, again. Wishing. Longing. Having a hard time typing because I am exhausted. It’s 10 to 2 in the morning and I am wishing the sun would rise again, so I can be tired in the light of the living. So I can talk to someone.

Any distraction will do. Housework makes being alone easier. Even if I am the only one who appreciates it. Even if I only get a brief moment to talk to someone who has way to many other things to do, like work or kids to care for. Instead of me who is worthless. No job. No self worth. Definitely no worth to anyone else.

I know I am closed off to you MR. On purpose. You don’t want anything to do with this life I have. You are too young to be wasting your time on me. If it’s anything, I am closed off to anyone interested. It’s too much for me to start over and begin to explain why I do the things I do. I just can’t do it right now.

So this is definitely a pity party for one. I’ll get over myself or I’ll be very convincing. Maybe I need to reconsider how I measure my self worth. Maybe I need to find some self worth before I can measure it.

I am going to try to sleep without drugs tonight. I have to go feed the dogs in the morning. I am going to spend the day by the pool and pretend that it’s what I want to be doing. When really all I want is to sleep, be held, be loved and be validated.

Ice Cream Woes

2008-06-28T11:57:00.000-07:00

In case my faithful readers in AZ didn’t know, Ben and Jerry’s is on sale at Fry’s. $2.27 a pint. Now I know I shouldn’t have bought four pints but I couldn’t choose which flavor I wanted. I guess it won’t be so bad if I don’t eat all four tonight. Right?

It’s two a.m. and I am still awake. But what’s new? Last night I slept without drugs. Tonight I don’t think I will be so lucky. How long will I be praying for daylight? Not just tonight, but how many nights? How many nights do I have to lie awake and think?

I know I need to do things, like the dishes and clean the snake cage; is that what’s keeping me up? Maybe it’s this weird girl situation. Yep. That must be it. They all say let her go. Stop thinking something’s gonna happen. It’s so strange. I’m not pining. I’m not wishing to see her.

I talked to her tonight like I always do. She said she ended romantic things because she felt smothered by me. Smothered! Me. I mean, how did I smother her. Text? Maybe I answered the phone too often. I was way backed off. I gave her the space she asked for. She started propositioning me, not the other way around. I maintain that she scared herself, but that being said, I don’t want to be a fool. I don’t want to know that she didn’t really like me.

Because she told me she did. She said it was true. She still says it. I think she feels safe now that she thinks I’m dating KK. Although nothing is happening there, it could. KK likes me. She really cute and funny and we are alot alike. I said all of this to MsJ and she said, oh no, it’s not really good to have so much in common.

I’m so confused about all of this. I’m so conflicted. All I really want I to sleep.

Exhaust

2008-06-19T23:18:00.000-07:00

I am so tired I probably shouldn't be writing this at all. MsJ finally told me today that she had to stop dating me. Fine, I said. And finally. I'm so okay with this. What I wasn't okay with was the stringing along. She still wants to talk everyday and hang out. Just not romantically. Whatever. Girls mystify me. Boys are so simple, either they are happy or they're not. When they're not, you turn on a little porn and the world is right again.

Girls have to think. They have to...process. Then they have to stew. Finally, they get back to you with an answer. When did life become so complicated? When did dating become the Dr. Phil show?

Anyway, I'm just about the singlest I can be right now. I think I will be alright. I also think that when Ms. Right comes along, I will know and fight like hell to keep her at bay because I can't love anyone now. I just don't have it in me anymore. You ladies want to much. Anybody want a fuck buddy?

I should rephrase, anybody whose air conditioning is working want a fuck buddy?

I won my own wet tee shirt contest last night.

2008-06-18T10:52:00.001-07:00

Let me explain. It’s about 105 degrees in my house at any time. My air is out and has been for the whole summer. I usually don’t turn it on til June 1st anyway, but not this year. I dump water on myself or take a shower and get in skimpy pj’s without drying every night before I go to sleep. Also, I take sleepy pills. It’s really not as bad as it seems. I think.

I am living in the house alone for the next three weeks. My kiddos are thankfully with my parents right now and onto HIS parents for the next two weeks. Hopefully I will be able to pull some funds together to fix this thing.

I have tried everything I know to fix it, which isn’t very much. I rewired from the thermostat to the inside unit, but that did nothing. My dad is coming into town tomorrow to help me, but he knows about as much as I do. I am not feeling optimistic.

I’ve been alone in this heat for six days now. Sweltering and quiet. I have been cleaning, sweating, writing, masturbating and talking to myself...a bunch. I talk to myself to motivate me, to make me stop crying, which I have been doing alot too, to tell myself I look pretty today. You name it.

Alone is a weird place to be. I am trying to have an open mind and open heart about it because it’s scary. MsJ is still around, but only through text or phone. Haven’t seen her since Sunday. The thing is that we have talked about things and we are right back where we were. A confusing place to be, really.

She likes me. She’s afraid of what may come with me. I’m afraid I am doing something wrong all the time. I want to see her this week, I have picked up my phone several times and texted her to come to the Mercury game with me tonight, but I keep erasing the text.

If I ask her to go, will she think I am desperate or want to see her all the time or will I scare her away? Is she fighting to keep me away as hard as I am fighting my urge to want to hang? And if I don’t ask her, will she think I don’t want to hang? I hate being in my head so much. The thing about talking to myself is that I can lie to myself or make truth hurt less. I can tell myself what I want to hear, but my head knows the difference.

Something else I have been questioning is how much all this torture is worth. Don’t I deserve someone who wants to see me? Or is this the universes’ way of telling me to slow the fuck down? Learn to be alone.

I am going to Flagstaff Pride this weekend. Going with a group of friends, none of whom are friends with MsJ. That leaves possibilities open for me. I really want to fuck and I love out of town girls. They are easy to get what I want and never see again. But is Flag far enough away? Only two hours.

Then there is MsJ. I really do like her and I should have enough sense to wait for her to come around, right? I’m not committed to her in any way, but fuck, I like the girl. I just want to fuck and be fucked, is that so much to ask for? Probably. There’s a plan for me. I sound like some religious freak!! Ha!

I am going to see Chris Pureka at Flag Pride. My now-not-so-secret fantasy is that she and I go back to her tour bus for a romp! Fat fucking chance, but really, I can dream. And dream I do. In my dreams she’s neither an exclusive top or a nellie bottom, but I get to do all the fucking. Her shirt’s unbuttoned but not all the way off, her jeans pulled down for just enough room for my hand. TMI, but I don’t care. I mean, who reads this anyway?

phone sex

2008-06-17T11:54:00.001-07:00

you asked me what i wanted to do to you
you caught me off guard
it was all in my head, but the surprise stopped my mouth from moving
my wheels were spinning
and i was swimming in your sex
you were lying there
my hands were caressing the length of your spine
exploring your hips
grasping your ass
i pulled you closer
i flipped you on your back
pinned your arms above your head with one hand
gently bit your nipples through your beater
your soft breath urging me downward
my free hand moved from clutching your waist
to tugging your shirt off
your back arched, pushing your hot wet sex against mine
i moved down with my mouth on your body
i smelled you, i wanted you more than i let on
i hoped you couldn’t tell
your shorts were pulled off in one powerful tug
there you were in your naked beauty
begging
it took all i had to just tease you
because i was teasing me too
your breathing turned to moaning
when my face was so near your tumescent clit
my breathing haphazard
my heart in my stomach
my stomach caught in the moment
that first taste, that first gentle lick
whimpers of ecstasy
you pulled my hair when i bit your hot tip just hard enough
my finger hovered scarcely inside
you hungered for the ascent
my tongue working circles
my hand wet with your cum
i slid inside
deep
you scratched and grabbed
you pulled, you steadied your hand on the headboard
i hit that place
that place that makes you cum hard and fast
you came
once
twice
three times
your cum on my face
on my hand on the sheets
you scratched my back til it bled, red lines welted
i came too
the night fragrant with you
the night sweltering from our bodies radiating
the night only half over

why bother anymore?

2008-06-15T09:08:00.000-07:00

why do i let myself fall? she really is great for me. and i am great for her, so wy is she doing this to me? better yet how could i have let this happen. i hate myself right now. i hate that i let her get a little close. i hate that she said things. i hate that i believed her. as short as two days ago she was calling me sweetie. she took it to the next step and i followed suit. i suck. this life sucks. i hate everything today. it’s all shit. my world is crumbling. why did i get to meet her parents? why did she send me all these texts? why did i think that she really liked me? because she said she did. and stupidly believed her. i stupidly thought what she said was true. i stupidly listened to my friends. fuck girls. there’s something wrong with each and every one of us. we all suck and it’s too bad woman are sexy, because if they weren’t i wouldn’t feel so bad about living this life alone. fuck it. what’s 30 more years of doing everything on my own. destiny that i have to be alone. there’s not one woman out there who can be my mate. i hate that i trusted myself. i hate that i let myself be happy. i hate i told her she was beautiful. she is, but i wasted a breath. she’ so special to me. the amazing, perfect woman. one problem, me. oh i got the i’m an asshole, i’m a jerk speech. It’s her not me. like i haven’t heard that before. then the text, “and i hope i haven’t ruined anything cuz i’m a jerk.” what happened to me that i became unloveable? was i ever? will i ever be? i hate this life. i hate that she did this when everything is going all wrong anyway. at least nobody will know what tears are for what.

today is day two of my road trip that i’m not on. the one i should be on but i told T i was seeing someone and got uninvited. please end this all. i just want to sleep forever. i don’t have the strength to continue.

Big Fat Horny Beast

2008-06-06T16:45:00.000-07:00

I have this really serious problem. Ever since I started enjoying sex, that is when I started sleeping with women, I want it like a teenage boy. I can be reading a book on entomology and BOOM, sex on the brain.

Ensexalitis. I think I need a shunt or something installed. Like her cock or finger or her tongue....oh her tongue....roaming, licking, sucking...JESUS! Do you see what I mean?

Sexaholic, except not slutty. I just think about it ALL the time! I know you all are thinking, well J, just masturbate. I’ve been, kids. I think it only makes it worse. Single for 5 weeks and I just can’t contain myself! Someone fuck me already!!!

I suppose I could just go to the bar and get a little public bathroom action, but how tempting does that really sound? (Not that I wouldn’t do it, but with someone I know, not just some random girl. Although, that sounds HOT too!!) Holy Horny, Batman!!

Nighttime is the worst. Laying alone in my bed. Touching myself, wising my hand wasn’t connected to my own arm. Wishing the scenario wasn’t just in my head. Wishing her kisses weren’t figments.....Been sleeping for hours, awoken by her caress on my hip and the gentle brush of her lips on the back of my neck...when I stir she doesn’t wait, she just thrusts her fingers in, her palm hitting my hot spot. Sweaty and slippery wetness....

Holy fuck! My breathing is out of control. My brain is out of control. My vagina is out of control. This post must end so I can wipe my wet puss. TMI, I know, but hell, I’m sharing all this with you, might as well share the end result.

The Secret To Life is Nudity

2008-06-06T10:46:00.000-07:00

I am having such a hard time getting motivated to clean my house. It all seems futile and just a huge waste of time. The only room in the house that is almost always clean is mine. And I spend all my house time in it. I love my house. I used to spend gobs of time in other rooms, but I just can’t handle the clutter any more, so I hide.

Todays goals were to not be late getting kids to swimming, to wash the dishes, to take the kids to science center, and to mop the floor. All while doing the other normal feeding and keeping tidy crap.

It’s 8, it feels much later than it is because I spent a good hour crying and stupidly wondering if it is my burden to be alone for all eternity. (It’s not. I just sometimes feel sorry for myself and can’t see the light.) I laid on my bed and started talking myself into mopping in the morning. Texted MsJ for a little motivation and while waiting for her text I got out the supplies and told myself to stop being an asshole, I would feel much better when the kitchen was clean.

Then an angel came down from heaven and told me to get naked. Of course, naked housework! I felt like I was onto something, but didn’t know the magnitude of my divine epiphany ‘til much later.

I went and told K, my sis, what I was doing, so in case she came out she wouldn’t have a heart attack. She implied with her next statement that I was going about this all wrong, “You need to wear heals.” She handed me a pair and there I was in four inch black, patent leather, open toed heals and nothing else, mopping my merry little self to pure relaxation.

I decided to buy a curtain rod and make a curtain for my front door window and every night clean in the buff. I feel so good. I feel so accomplished. I feel so nude. Guess I better get dressed now, not all things need to be done naked.

Someone

2008-06-04T11:05:00.002-07:00

I saw you in an dream.
I saw you in a flannel on the porch of our small A frame cabin
I saw you chopping wood and adding to the pile
I saw you hiking with our kids, telling them stories from your childhood
I saw you preparing a meal for 6 with me
I saw you taking a mid-afternoon skinny dip in the crick, your back muscles rippling
I saw you lay them down to slumber, with a kiss and hug to each one
I saw you come to me, with love and laughter in your eyes
I saw your chest rise and fall and I fell into rhythm with you

I felt you caressing me under the covers
I felt you press your body to mine, hardened nipples, supple breasts
I felt your quick breath on my neck
I felt your heat radiating from your core to your fingertips
I felt your soft kisses on my wanting mouth
I felt your hand explore my hips
I felt you quiver when you discerned my moisture
I felt your hard bites on my thighs
I felt your world explode in pleasure

I heard you tip toe softly out of the room
I heard you hum a soft tune while you made your first cup
I heard you greet our four legged friends
I heard your contemplative silence in awe of the sunrise
I heard you welcome the world into your heart
I heard you tell the neighbor how happy you are
I heard you regard the sun as mighty
I heard you tell our babies to still their thoughts and listen to the world around
I heard you whisper “I love you” into the soft breeze

I see your loving soul
I feel your genuine warmth
I hear your words impressed on me

Dyke Drama

2008-06-04T11:05:00.001-07:00

Monday Afternoon

I told T about MsJ. She totally freaked out on me like I thought she would. She was teasing me about MsJ being my girlfriend. I told her she wasn’t but that we were seeing each other very casually. Silence on the other end of the phone. Mind you readers, I did not plan on telling her over the phone, especially when she was driving. It just happened. She told me that she had to get off the phone because traffic was heavy.

Less than a minute later she called back. She told me that she wouldn’t be meeting me for coffee, nor was I still invited on the road trip she is about to take. I figured all this already. She also said she couldn’t believe I had moved on so quickly. It’s been four weeks since the final break up. “Final break-up” being the important statement here. We have been teetering on separation since she freaked out at the Easter backyard camp out.

She hung up on me again. I thought she was really pissed at my calmness, boy was I correct! When she got home she called me again and told me to fuck off. She was mean and sarcastic. I told her that the conversation would end until she could speak to me with respect. That lasted all of two minutes. She couldn’t help telling me to fuck off several more times.

Now the thing is, she’s hurt and angry. She’s also, sadly immature in expressing her feelings. I feel really sorry for her. And I feel really sad that I have caused someone so much pain; I say this even after what comes next.

Text from T “You obviously only care about yourself. I should have kept you rebound material like you were supposed to be in the first place. Fuck you. FUCK YOU!”

Holy cow!! I didn’t respond. It’s a harsh text and I am not sure if she is trying to hurt me or just vent in a big, stupid way. At any rate, I don’t really feel hurt by it because I know it’s not true. She really love(s)(d) me.

Tuesday Morning

I am exactly where I need to be, I need to be exactly where I am. I am a blessing manifest....

“Hello”
“Did you go on myspace last night?”
“No, why?”
“Ummmmm...” Trepidation in the wavering voice of JLB.
“Oh, no. What did she do?”
“It’s her blog. Don’t read it. It’s really upsetting.”
Well, of course, now I have to read it. “Does it have my first and last name?”
“No.”
“How personal are the details?”
“Do you want me to just read it to you?”
“Yes, please.”

Because it’s her work, I won’t post it, but it was really very will written. The title is very catchy. It’s called....wait for it.....wait for it.....”Dear Jen, Fuck You”. Good, right? Now don’t be jealous, somebody could write an awesome poem about you someday too. The whole poem rhymes. I actually like it. Maybe I’ll get her permission to post it on here so all of you can read it. I better give it a few days though. She seems kinda mad.

Alright, that’s enough of my sarcasm. Actually most of what I just wrote is true. She’s a fantastic writer. She is evidently hurt by my calmness, as was cited in her poem.

I am a pretty even keeled person. I do better under high pressure. I stay very calm and take an authoritative position. Which is how I was yesterday. For me to tell her about MsJ and hurt her all over again, was really scary. I knew it would hurt her, I knew she would say the things she did. I could have waited until after the trip, but I think that would have been worse.

I hope she gets perspective soon, so we can get around to having a friendship. I guess only time can tell. All you praying folks, send some up to heaven for her. The rest of you can send her some healing thoughts and energy.

Two Weeks Ago

2008-05-17T10:20:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago it was mutual. Two weeks ago it didn’t hurt. To me it was real and logical. I think to you it was just words. I took those words to heart. You asked if I needed a break and I answered honestly. You seemed to accept my honest answer without question. Was that because you didn’t believe me? Was it because, in your mind, it couldn’t possibly be true? Remember when I told you my biggest fear was hurting you? Well, that time has come. I am so sorry you hurt so bad. I am so sorry I am the one causing your pain. I am sorry you think I did this so I could go make out or fuck some other girl.

The night we met, who knew we would be together this long? Who knew we would share our lives for a time? I have been thinking, would I give that up just to know you were happy at this moment? Maybe, but probably not. We learned and grew. We shared amazing experiences and taught each other about love. I learned new ways to love a person and to accept love.

This space in my chest that was a heart is aching and burning. I want so badly to go back to the beginning and feel that bliss, the whirlwind of happiness before the realities of our lives set in. Before it became clear that I am bound to my house, to my kids. Before the possibility and, now, eventuality of deployment snuck in. Before sex was an issue. Before my wash machine broke.

You are loving, supportive and so much fun to be around. To me, your smile lights a room. Your eyes sparkle like stars. I want this to be enough. Do you think I will come to my senses? Do you think I can see that we really do have a future? Maybe we do, but you are right about not prolonging the pain. You are right about there being no grey area right now. Perhaps through time, I will see that I made an error. If that time comes I will have to deal with your possible rejection. Another blow to a weakened heart. If that time comes and I am willing to take that chance, I will also be ready to accept what comes.

Please know that I love you. Know that I never had any intention to hurt you or make you sad. Know that I am hurting too. My pain and yours. And yours is deeper to me. I have hurt for so many years that my pain is a dull constant, one that was gone for a good portion of six months. I have only caused great sadness to a few people and the sickening pain I feel from you is acute. Know that our close friendship is something I hold dear and never wish to lose. Know that my love is true and real. Know that you are important to me.

I Didn't Do It

2008-05-15T20:30:00.000-07:00

I am sitting at the souper salad, alone, writing this, feeling rather forlorn and probably looking pathetic. I don’t feel pathetic, just a little defeated. I’m thinking about ice cream and obese people. I am trying not to eat sugar again and succeeding. Until now. If I have sugar, I blow my no sugar for the week. If I don’t, I miss out on calories, caramel and a crappy mood tomorrow. But peanuts, oreos and sprinkles, oh my. Oh, stop self! Now I’m being pitiful!

Over My Head

2008-05-15T20:29:00.000-07:00

Our six month was six days ago. It came and went without recognition. I know I thought about it, I’m sure she did. We had plans to go to a nice dinner. But instead we broke up for good, I think. I feel relief and sadness. Not so much sad for the relationship because what made us strong as a couple is what will keep us strong as friends, but sad that this is another person who couldn’t be my partner. When I look ahead and see my future, aside from the sustainable farm and nifty holistic business, I see living with someone, sharing responsibilities, co-parenting and really talking through decisions. Not just me making them and someone going along out of disinterest. Just by my very nature, she can’t be that person. She is neat and tidy. She never wanted kids. I’m a spontaneous freak, I’m overwhelmed with other shit, my house comes last and I am a mom. Do these things make me the odd one out? Is she out there?

I am attracted to women for so many reasons. Forget the physical for a moment, I know it’s hard, but try. Women are so much more logical and posses the sense of reason. Any woman I would be attracted to, whether friend or more, would be capable, intelligent, able to articulate an abstract thought and have a broad sense of humor. (She’d also have to be able to keep up with me. I’m a fiend! For fun, good music, laughs and great sex.) Anyway, a little off track. I am sure there is someone out there for me who fits my criteria and wants kiddos.

In return, I would be a shitty house-girlfriend, a slut in the bedroom, a true and loyal friend, a great camper, a spontaneous road-tripper, a sappy movie-watcher, a butch handy-woman, and a great mom.

T is so many of these things, not spontaneous and rather annoyed by my spontaneity, as I am to her rigidness. I am so afraid that when it comes down to it, she’s won’t change into the partner I need. Not that she should. She’s beautiful and amazing the way she is, but I think she would be much happier with someone with less baggage. It may not feel like it now, but I think she will be relieved when it finally hits her how much freer she can be without the confines of my motherhood. I want to keep her in my life for a long time to come. I want to see her truly happy, the way she was at the beginning of us.

I hope she wants the same for me. And I hope she can forgive the hurt I am causing her right now. I think what we are doing is the right thing.

If I Were Interviewing Me

2008-05-06T19:01:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday night, JLB and I went to Cherry Bomb. Dirty Phoenix wants to interview us for ourchart.com, about how far Jeanette and I have come since October. She kept saying it was sexy how butch I have become. I’m not sure I am. Not on the outside, at least.

How long have you been out?

Me: Exactly somewhere around a year and a month. That’s not too exact, but I’m drunk, so who the fuck cares.

Where were you before?

Me: Thinking about how I could be dead without my kids blaming themselves. I was married to man. Actually I am still married to him. We co-habitate, he hates it. I just don;t care enough to give it hate or love. We have three kids together. Boys. All boys. Being married seems to scare the girls away, but that’s who I am.

Tell me about the you before the gay you.

Me: Pretty much the same. Take charge kinda gal. I always have had a secret longing to have someone take charge for me for once though. Like someone who knows how my brain works and can take logical control and make a decision every once in a while. I like to fix shit; if I don’t know how, I learn quickly. I was and am laid back. I am not a jealous person. I was a sloppy dresser because I was already married and had nobody to impress. Turns out, I like to impress myself and shock my friends with my clothing choices.

When did you first suspect you gayness?

Me: Audra Valaro, 7th grade gym class. Great tits. Still does. (Well as of three years ago.) People ask why I love AZ so much, it’s because 6 month of the year are bathing suit season.

Why’d it take you so long?

Me: Mormons. I grew up in Mesa. Aside from Salt Lake City, the biggest Mormon community in the world. Well, maybe. Anyway, there was little opportunity. Although the more people I meet and re-meet, the more I realize were homos.

How is it being a gay mom?

Me: I prefer queer. Being a mom is great. Dating and motherhood seem to collide. I am very weary of the women who are way into kids. I don’t want them around just cuz they want kids or like mine. I have had to explain, more than I have really wanted to, that I am a person first and a mom second. Just like if I was an accountant, that would be my job, not my persona. And that really goes both ways, the woman who is freaked about the kids and the one who is drawn to them.

How many kids do you have?

Me: I have three boys. Three of the most beautiful, amazing, smart, witty wonderful children ever put on this earth. They re 9, 8 and 5 (in late May).

You mentioned earlier you prefer queer; why is that?

Me: I think sometimes gay gets a bad rap. Not that I am afraid of gay or fighting for the right to be gay. Really, I’m just a little tired of fighting. Queer is a more tame, all encompassing word. I am supportive of those who identify as gay, I just like queer.

Do you consider yourself butch?

Me: Hmm...(chuckle) Let me see, is wearing a dress butch? Sometimes I like the way the wind feels on my yoni. I do wear pants and shorts more often than not, but I like to feel sexy in a dress too. (I have been know to wear sequin panties from time to time.) On the inside though, that’s a different story. I like to hold the door, fix the appliances and change my own oil. I like my hair short and I like to be dirty, like camping. I think that if given the opportunity, I would be a fantastic top, but I do have my nelly bottom times. I really like my puss sucked and liked and fucked! So really, I don’t think I fit into this category. I’m a J. Let’s start a new category. Oh I forgot, I really like the more butch girls to date. A little boi on boi action!

It’s getting late, any last thoughts?

Me: I think I should go to bed soon. I’m beat and I have to work tomorrow. Peace, love and big hugs. Don’t rush this life. It may be a while ‘til you get to the next one.

What Are You Going to Hell For? Random Anonymous Spurts of Sin.

2008-04-09T11:08:00.001-07:00

I polled several people at my local coffee shop and I took advantage of the drunks at the bar next door, then later friends on the phone (also drunk). Some of these are mine. My REALLY good friends will be able to pick them all out. No worries if you can’t pick them all out, it doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, just that I didn’t remember til now!! Don’t ask me to tell you who said what, because I would never. That’s the point. I’m like a priest and if you’re lucky....I will absolve you of your sins, my child.

~Thinking about Down’s syndrome kids when I see the crosswalk sign that says “Slow Children”
~Burning ants with a magnifying glass
~Accidentally killing a kitten in the dryer
~Loving retarded people for all the wrong reasons (Not sex, dumb ass)
~Having sex in my friends (plural) bed
~Having sex in my parents bed
~Looking at porn on my parents bed
~Masturbation
~I love midgets
~Pooping in the pool and blaming on someone else
~Wanting to lick my gf’s butthole, baby
~Losing my virginity at 13 to a 16 year old in the chapel of church camp in Estes Park, CO
~Having a 4some at a trailer park public shower when I was 14, the girls were 21 and they thought I was Irish
~One night stand on a bench in front of office max
~One night stand in New Orleans, she made me take my cross necklace off
~Gave a BJ to my boyfriend in the back seat while my mom was driving
~Watched my mom’s porn
~Used to fall asleep listening to Dr Ruth, when I was 6
~Stole 20 bucks from a homeless dude once, I was homeless at the time
~Had sex with my parents.......Russian exchange student....a lot
~Stealing from the store I worked at
~Having sex while my friends were having sex on the next bed over
~Cheated on a college assignment
~Told girls I was gay, so I wouldn’t have to date them
~I’m a lesbian and I hate Ani D
~Had sex in my sisters bed left the condom on her pillow
~Faked orgasms with my last gf
~Ended an 11 year relationship between two guys. The one I fucked before he went to prison, the other while the one was in the slammer. Fell in love with both...dropped them both when they fell in love with me.
~1st (5) gay experience(s) were with my girl cousins’ boyfriend. No worries, she’s a lesbian now and he’s in prison.
~My last gf hit a cat in my car and killed it. We drove away.
~Kicked my friend’s chair out from under her in the cafeteria at school. She fell on her ass.
~Paid my sister to make my bed every morning, took the money out of her piggy bank to pay her.
~Told my sister bird shit was a tootsie roll, she ate it.
~Once treated my sisters infected earring hole with dog penis cream.
~Used my parents mini van for “work purposes” when I was really meeting people I met on the internet.
~Cheated on my husband.
~Worked at a restaurant, when someone just wanted a smoothie, I accepted the money, as a tip.
~I knit while I drive.
~Used to give my sister swirlies.
~My barbies had better sex than I ever have, until now, baby!
~I only played with dolls that shit themselves cuz they were more masculine.
~I thought about fucking women while HE was fucking me.
~I used to give him mercy fucks and call them “Fuck Fridays”.
~Accomplice to adultery
~Breaking the law
~Smoking crank at my parents house.
~Lying and cheating in general.
~Saying God Dammit in church.
~Gave my brothers’ wedding speech while I was I high on coke.
~Fucking a dude in the Amsterdam parking lot, halfway out of the car. I was supposed to be following a chic home...
~Ended three hetero marriages with kids by fucking the wives....I still love all the kids.
~I used to spank the dolls my mom made me because I hated dolls.
~I licked my cousins vagina in the sixth grade.
~Sometimes I wish I had a penis so I could fuck my gf with it.
~I used to make Ken sodomize Barbie.
~I used to give my Barbie dyke haircuts.
~I only went to church cuz my grandma bought me donuts.
~Had sex in the church my sister-in-law got married in, in the room she got dressed in

Leave your confessions in the comments if you dare or drop me an email and I will post them for you. It will feel a whole lot better to get these things off your chest! We’re all going to hell on a short bus and I’m driving!

You Were Wearing What?

2008-04-08T22:21:00.000-07:00

Popped that vicoden pretty late. Things didn’t really get started until later in the evening. Drag shows are fun, but the best part is how many broad spectrum butch types come out to play. Lots of eye candy. Yum yum. I think we all get the point, the girls are hotter when the kings are out!! Everyone is drinking around me and I start to get thirsty. “Ok Andy, just two Kamikozes.” ($1.50 shot special) The first one goes down nice and fast, the second is touching my lips when my ass starts vibrating.

It’s K, my sis. She never calls when I am out at the bar, so I know it must be something. I’m not prepared for what is about to unfold. She’s sobbing. Her car was hit from behind, the other driver fled and she’s hurt and confused. B drives me to help her. I called my mom on the way and my mom called my dad.

When we arrive, she is out of the car and shaken. The car is a total loss, the ass is dragging on the ground. Two hot cops, like ten not-hot cops. The chic cop standing with K was blonde and way cute. Being as I was not sober, I may have said rather loudly that the cop was super good looking. The Blonde Cop (BC) asked K for her registration and and proof of insurance. “In the glove box,” K said, “I’ll get it.” BC explains it is her job to get that stuff and for K to stay put.

K turns to me, fear in her eyes, “I left a blunt in the car.” Shit, K! K’s shaking in her boots now. BC opens the car door, goes for the glove box, then sniffs, keeps sniffing, then the flashlight starts roaming. Seats are being pushed forward. Compartments opened. Ah-ha!! Bingo, BC finds what she’s looking for. She also pulls out the paperwork. She calls her Sargent over for a sniff.

“Hello? Hi, Mom.” “Was she holding?” “Uhhhh...yes...” “Shit, how could she? Shit, why? Shit, Fuck, Dammit K[‘s whole first name]. I have told her time and again not to drive with that shit!” (What we should all understand is that, just like the old PSA of the early 90’s, we learned it from watching you Mom. Both my folks are pot smokers. My mom is more functioning than my dad, who is a giggler. “Uhh, hang on Mom, Dad’s on the other line.”

“Hello?” “J, it’s your dad. Was she holding?” “Ummm....yeah.” “Shit, J, why was she doing that? Doesn’t she know that this kind of arrest could ruin her life?” “I’m sure she does, Dad. Listen, Mom’s on the other line, can I call you back?” “Call me as soon as you know what’s happening...”

“Mom...?” “I’m here.” (Yucky, stern, “her” voice.) “What’s happening? Is she getting arrested, I have told her time and time again, Do Not Carry That Shit Around. Tell her I said that.” “I can’t really mom, she’s talking to the cop.” “Oh my god, oh my god.” I can just read her thoughts, ‘How will I explain this event of my white trash children to my sisters and brother? How did I fail my girls? They are pothead, lesbian whores. How could my girls fail me. I brought them up to be ladies..’ “Uhh, Mom, I’ll call you back.”

“They let me go. BC said she and the sarge would let it go, pretend they didn’t see it, but no more smoking in the car.” Ok, does this shit really happen in real life? I guess so. (Unless they’re about cockroaches, my stories are non-fiction. Who knows why some people get off and some people blow .01 over the legal limit? It’s a mystery.)

“Hello?” “Well?” “Hi Dad. It’s all good.” “What do you mean, It’s all good? Is she getting arrested?” “No...., it ok.” Seriously, I don’t know how much more clear I can be high on Vic, adrenalin and alcohol. I don’t know how much K told the BC about what she was really carrying. Hang on Dad, Mom’s ringing in...

“Hello?” “Well?” Jesus, maybe I should just three way. “She’s fine. It’s all good.” “What do you mean?” “I mean, they let it go.” “How is that? They just let her go? Well, why?” “I don’t know, I don’t think I should ask.” Shit I forgot about Dad on the other line. Hang up, hang up, call you later when I have more info.

BC- “The tow truck is here, you want to get any thing out of the car?” K needs her CD’s out of the center console. I get them...the blunt is still there!! They left it. They really did pretend not to see it. The luck of the Mexican-German-Dutch, I suppose. “K, do you need your coats?” I yell across two lanes. K thinks about it. Before she can answer, Sarge, says “Ask her if she wants her blunt.” I almost peed my pants right then and there. “I’m not gonna yell that in front of you, besides, I already know, Hell Yeah she wants it. She just got rammed in the backside!”

I am not sure if B will ever hang out with me again, but I am sure he laughed his ass off this night. We get what we can out of the car. On the way to B’s car, Mom calls..again. She’s asking me all sorts of questions while K is trying to tell us what BC said. Then, K, not knowing Mom was on the phone, says, “The best part is, when I got hit, all I was wearing was my panties, high heels and my coat.” Holy fuck!! “I don’t think you want me to tell Mom that.” “Shit, that’s Mom on the phone?”

Mom, “Blah, blah, blah, bla....What was she wearing? Tell me she did not just say only her panites...."

Anniversary Thoughts (April 3)

2008-04-07T21:33:00.000-07:00

Today is my wedding anniversary. Anyone remember last year? I took E to a hockey game and didn’t even remember it was my anniversary until I got home and saw the gift on my bed. I still remember, HE got me, the newest Post Secret book. It was sitting on my bed with a card and a note.

HE was so full of hope for the future. HE wanted so badly for our marriage to work out. I think now HE knows that it just couldn’t, that I couldn’t go on any longer, I was ready to just be dead.

This year, for the first time ever, I remembered without having to be reminded weeks before hand and without having to look on the silver champagne goblets. This year, also for the first time, I got HIM a gift. Less of an anniversary gift and more of an, “I’m sorry.” gift. I’m sorry I didn’t take into account HIS dreams when I followed mine. I’m sorry I didn't think about HIS feelings when I wanted to heal my wounds.

That being said, would I still choose the path that I am on now, knowing what I do today? Yes. Yes. and Yes. I finally belong. I finally fit my body. I know what my needs are and I can attend to them. My head isn’t such a jumbled fried mess anymore. I would hope I would be more sensitive to HIM.

I Won I Won

2008-04-01T20:06:00.000-07:00

So I entered a writing contest about a month ago. I won. I won I won I won I won I won!!!!! Who would have thought? I am so excited. The professor running the contest called me about 11:30 this morning and told me. He said I would have to read my piece aloud on April the 22. I started panicking, “Which piece won?” You see I entered in the Sex. poem and I am bold, but bold enough to read that out loud...not sure about that. He laughed and told me my fiction piece was the winner. (Conspiracy Theory Proven) I said, “Good. Not sure I would have enough guts to read the poem out loud.” He said the content of the poem was why it couldn’t win. So really, I won two of the three categories. But sex is still too scary, I guess. I feel on top of the world right now and really nervous!! I will practice reading every day. If anyone wants to come, it’s on April 22, at Gateway Community College. 40th St and Washington. The reading starts at noon. Holy cow!!!

Captured and Logged

2008-03-29T20:26:00.000-07:00

Sitting at T's dorm on base and looking up some research for my gender projects paper. I am using free wireless connection from the bar that's on base. I just looked up Sugarbutch Chronicles, hit enter and WARNING!!!! DANGER WILL ROBINSON!!!!! The 56th Squadron does not authorized this type of website. My "session information has been captured and logged". Dear goddess!!!!!! Whatever shall I do? Cuba just allowed it's citizen's to have cell phones, but they are communist, so all is explained, but we are in the US. Where are the rights? Fuck this place. Fuck a government who can claim freedom and yet still oppress it's people. Fuck the 56th and all it's tyranny!!!

There's So Much to See

2008-03-29T09:56:00.000-07:00

I'm not even sure where to begin. It's not been a long time since I wrote, just since I posted. School's been a fucking busy mess. I started a new class, English 102.

Fuck. The nasty ass guy behind me keeps sucking his bugers up his nose. If he were one of my kids, I could tell him to get a kleenex, but what's a girl to do in this situation? Maybe he didn't have no mama to learn him that sucking mocos up your nose is definitely not polite. Plus I have this thing with bodily noises. I can't stand most of them. I really like the sound of a fart though, in case anyone was wondering. Jesus, make it stop!! I can't even write about tolerance, which was what I was about to articulate, without being temporarily intolerant.

Maybe prayer is a good idea. "Dear Jesus, please plug up this guy nose, so I can stop hearing his wrong noises. And while you are around, grant me the strength to be tolerant to nose sniffling." Whew. That felt great!! So, back to what I was saying...

Yes, composition class. I hate writing about what is not in my head. I have to have time to wrap it around my soul. That's why, I feel a little alright about this class. I get to choose the subject. I have chosen to argue the wrongness of gender as a binary system and I have a gazilion thoughts, from my everyday experiences to watching my gf question the very existence of hir on this earth.

I think I need to start with my friends reaction to an article in The Advocate about an FTM having a baby. Obviously this man, and yes he is legally a man, (I have alot of thoughts on that alone) still has his uterus and vagina. My online moms networking group caught hold of the article and had some strong and ignorant views and also some intelligent and insightful. I guess, unless you have had cause to think, read, talk about trangenderism, you don't. I do. I live in a world where I know FTMs and MTFs and people who want to transition, people who don't feel complete in their own bodies, people who are afraid to be themselves, for fear of ridicule, persecution, and possible homicide. Here are some of the comments:

Let's start with the title of the thread.. "Speechless"

I have to question this. What is it you are afraid of Jenny? Are you afraid that this man somehow de-feminizes you? And for that matter what is femininity? The clothes you wear? The haircut you style every morning? The household chores you perform? The scent you adorn? The job you have? The way you sit? Your biological parts? Your "maternal instinct"? Your ability to have a baby? Who chose for you that those things are feminine? You were raised in the image of your mother of what is femme, what is ladylike, what is acceptable to THIS society. Break that mold, think outside the box a little.

"I consider myself to be very progressive and open minded, so I don't like to admit that it kind of creeps me out."

Again, Jenny, what are afraid of? Stop thinking about it and let it be.

"He's got all the right parts still to carry a baby, weird and awkward as it might be..."

What is weird and awkward, Chris? The newness? I have to agree with Karen MS that pregnancy is biological, not social. When we give so much attention to something as biologically simple (and complex) as this, we fail to normalize it. A uterus is meant to be the place in the body where fertilization and nourishment of a fetus takes place. This man has a uterus, why not use it? You did. Does it matter what your haircut or body type is?

"I just don't like the 15minutes of fame aspect to all of it; makes one wonder the motivation about the whole thing to some degree."

I think this statement, by far makes me the most uncomfortable. Do you know what kind of planning had to go into this? How many pro's and con's had to be weighed? When a born-as-woman finally comes to grips with the fact that she doesn't like what she's looking at in the mirror every morning and finally has the courage to do something to change hiroutward image to reflect hir inward feeling, ze has already thought about the societal repercussions of such a decision. Then to have to come back and think, wow, I am capable of carrying this child, but what could happen to my family? This man could be KILLED, his wife, his child, could be KILLED for something so biologically right. So as far as 15 minutes of fame, unless this guy is a sociopath, he doesn't have a want to die. Would you put your family in danger without thinking, thinking and rethinking? I am sure fame is the opposite of what this guy is looking for. I wouldn't be surprised if he has received many death threats already.

"Pregnancy - as a biological, rather than social issue - may seem different. But if women can chose their biological destiny and choose not to have children, is it so wrong for a man to want to? Personally I think if we could accept people anywhere on the spectrum of sexuality rather than trying to assign them space on the two ends, the world would be a happier place."

I have to say one of the more well-spoken comments of this thread. And without leaving out Karen BF, I agree with you that some straight, sensitive men would love to feel a baby kicking inside of him.

"other than uterus what other parts are still available to help with the birth part or will c-section be required?"

Jeanette touched on this a little. A lot of FTMs don't get "bottom surgery". They do get their breasts removed and take testosterone which increases the size of the clitoris:

"[This effect is permanent] Amongst the first noticeable changes is clitoral enlargement, to varying degrees in all men. There are reports of between 3 and 8 cm when erect and sensitivity increases. For some men, the size becomes sufficient for penetration with a female partner (Gooren, 1999). If receptive intercourse is part of an individual's sexual behaviour, vaginal intercourse can become difficult and painful as the vaginal tissues usually become drier, less flexible and more fragile. If an unexpected blood loss occurs from the vagina at any time, the individual should immediately report this to the treating doctor for investigation." From ftmaustralia.org.

A strap on can do the trick with minimal invasion and no surgery. One might argue that one can't get pleasure from sexual intercourse because one is not bodily attached to this "cock", but I have to ask you ladies, do you get pleasure giving a blow job? Do you enjoy the noises, movements and ecstasy of your partner? I would venture to guess that you do, or else you wouldn't do it. I love taking my partner to that place. It feels just as good, but in a different way. At any rate, this portion of my rant is not to turn anyone on, (me included, so I have to stop now), but to show you that there are ways to get around that "bottom" surgery.

The rest of my point is that this man still has all of the biologically necessary organs to carry and birth a child. Breastfeeding is another issue.

My last thought is on what makes this man a man. How is it that lack of breast tissue and an increased amount of testosterone can make someone a "man"? Who decided this and why did the rest of us agree? Not that I don't think he should have the right to be married and share in those special rights, but why doesn't the rest of the queer community have those same rights without having to alter our bodies to get them? Food for thought my friends.

If we can drop the "normal" attitude and just see the world around us as multicolored, as so many of us can see it as multi-ethnic, and accept what we see, then what is "creepy" becomes "normal".

Can someone help me down from this soapbox, I'm lonely...

I think at the beginning of this post I had more specific life issues to talk about, but now I am lost on those. Until tomorrow, my friends.

And PS, praying may have done the trick...No, wait, it was my headphones that finally drowned out The Sniffler.

Dear Mom

2008-02-23T14:35:00.000-08:00

I’m gay. Yes, happy...but more like I like to finger fuck and eat pussy. I know you know, but I thought you’d like to hear it from my mouth. I know, my poor Grandmother is rolling in her grave.

I can’t say that. I don’t even like the word, gay. Gay upsets my stomach. Except when it doesn’t, like when I know my life is right and I am happy. So I say queer. I like queer. It means odd, or an offensive name for a homosexual male, according to my mac dashboard dictionary. I prefer the first definition, since I am not male.

You did nothing wrong. In fact, I would say, You did something right. You raised a woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to get it. I know what it takes for me to be happy. I am working on obtaining a life that fits my needs. I am a strong, somewhat over-independent person. So thank you.

Dad asked me if it was just a phase. I told him I didn’t know because I was too afraid to tell him no. I can never see myself with another man for the rest of my life. I don’t like trying to figure out which emotion a man is exibiting by his blank face. I don’t want a scratchy chin tearing up my own when I kiss. I don’t want to worry about explaining logic to another man. And I don’t want to be fucked by another messy dick ever again.

See, Mom, this has been going on for quite some time. Farther back, it seems, every time I think about it. I remember even telling you in high school that I was a lesbian. You said, in your exasperated, sarcastic, “whatever” tone, “Ok, Jen”.

So, take two. This time’s for real. I have a girlfriend. I have introduced my kids to the notion that loving whomever makes you happy is good and right. I am out to my high school friends and my mom’s club, other parents at my kids school, my sisters, my dad and one of my cousins. So, why did I take so long with you? Fear, mostly. Fear that I would have to explain myself and justify my actions to you, which I don’t, but would still feel compelled to do.

I can’t stand the thought of you crying and saying, “How could you do this to me?”, like you did when I told you I was pregnant. That time, I needed you, this time I don’t. That time taught me to rely on only me. Can’t listen to some bullshit about your family are the only people you have, because it’s not really true. Well, maybe in families where the main topic of discussion isn’t juicy gossip about other family members it might actually be as you said it should be. Alas, not your family, which also happens to be mine, but I have removed myself from your gossip circle of hate.

Although, somehow, by me coming out to you, I have once again entered the circle because I know how the family works. One of you gets upset and goes and riles the rest, then you recruit more of this war’s veterans and begin a battle, but this time, you are fighting yourselves, because I will not participate.

The ideal would be for you to ask me questions. I’d rather not too specific, but I can deal with a little pink in my cheeks. I will answer and be honest, what do I have to lose, but that which I have lost already. I would love for you to be happy for me, without having to think about it. I want you to accept me for the person I am and always was, JLVMC.

(This is practice for the real thing. I am hoping to have my wits and guts about me in the beginning of March. Wish me luck. Of course I will post the real thing when it happens.)