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

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

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

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)

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

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

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?

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

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

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!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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)

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?

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.