Tuesday, March 31, 2009
I'm Exhausted
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sister Friends
Easter Memories
Today one of the assistants said, "Hey, counselor. Come out on the playground with me. I need to talk to you..." Yes, I am now this "kid's" counselor. Which is a complement, I suppose, but some of the things she wants advice on are very personal, and I told her we should not be discussing it within earshot of the kiddos. So, hey, the counseled can be counselor at times.
This is a photo of the Easter Bunny I grew up with, only mine was probably pink. Easter was always a big deal in our home. My mom and I ALWAYS had an Easter outfit, usually homesewn by her. We always went to church. There is nothing like an Easter church service; they are beautiful. Do you know that is the day when churches are the most attended? One year, I think I was 5 or 6. I got the chickenpox, and I felt awful. We skipped church, but my mom got me out of bed and dressed me up in my new Easter outfit, took me outside, stuck an Easter basket in my hand, and told me to smile for the camera. There I was with gross chickenpox on my face, feeling like total shit, and she wants me to pose. I never liked picking up the eggs because the dye always got on my hands. My mom would run around behind me carrying a paper towel (you can see this in every year's photos), so that I would not wipe my hands on my dress.
My kids grew up with a fun Easter tradition provided to me by my friend V. Every year they went on an Easter treasure hunt, which consisted of about ten index cards. Each card was hidden, telling them where the next clue was. The last clue led to a prize, which was usually a book, CD, or DVD that they wanted. When she was pre-reading, I would draw a picture of the washing machine or TV or whatever for my youngest, and she would go there. The older they got, the harder it was. I wrote rhymes and riddles for the clues; they got harder every year. One year I forgot to do it, and had about ten minutes to write and hide about 20 clues (they each got their own) before they woke up. Sometimes they would have to go outside or call their grandparents or aunts out of town for the next clue. If you have kids, you need to do this activity. My kids are older, and this is the first year they will not have a treasure hunt, and even last year they wanted to do one, so I know they will miss it. I thought about writing clues and giving them to my ex, but they have re-arranged the house, and I'm not sure I could do it. I don't know, I might. I never gave candy in our Easter baskets, so this was kind of my way of making up for that. We did have chocolate eggs out on the table, though. I can't live without those small, chocolate eggs. My least favorite Easter candy -- peeps. Ugh, there should be a law against peeps!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Punk Rock Mommy
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Check This Out!
http://bridgeout.wordpress.com/my-top-100-reasons/#comment-1814
“My Top 100 reasons I am glad…”
These are my personal reasons why I am glad to be a happily partnered woman with a woman, and reasons why I am glad that I am no longer a discontentedly married heterosexual housewife.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Friday
J doesn't like me being alone all day in the apartment. She knows I get depressed. I am not used to such a small space, and it has been so dark all day. I taped some things on the DVR and watched them, surfed my daily blogs, trying to lift my spirits. All I can think of is J, wanting to be with her. I'm supposed to go to my grandmother's tomorrow. In my head, I am afraid that if I cancel, she will die this week, even though she isn't ill. So I am going. I feel like a bad person wanting to be with J all weekend. I should want to be with my kids or other members of my family. But I have missed so many years with J. I cannot seem to get enough of her. I want to breathe her in and out of my lungs and like I said in my earlier post, not go to sleep at night. I am afraid that this is all a dream.
When we planned to get back together, she and I went looking at apartments. It was an exciting, confusing day. I don't think she really thought I would go through with it because she didn't put a deposit down. If I backed out, she could just continue living with her mom until I made the move. I don't think she was sure of it until I was on my way in the car to confront my ex. I had told him I wanted to talk to him about my drinking. When he got there, I could have made up another story, say that I wanted help, to change. But I didn't. I knew that if I didn't come clean right then, that I would probably not survive. It was only going to get worse. So not only did I admit that we were having an "affair", but I admitted that my whole life with him had been a lie. Imagine my surprise when he didn't yell, didn't cry. I was almost disappointed.
I left and drove to meet J down the road in a supermarket parking lot because she was afraid that I would be too upset to drive. I wasn't. I think I was just in shock. I felt that J was my knight in shining armor, picking me up on her white horse and carrying me back to my true self. I have never looked back and regretted leaving. I do regret that I did not tell my girls myself, but at that time, there is no way in hell that I could have faced them. I left that ugly task to my ex and a friend, and for that, I am truly sorry.
In a few weeks, J and I are going to San Antonio to meet some friends of hers. She has booked a room at that wonderful hotel in San Marcos where we stayed on our anniversary. She knows that it will always be special to me. Wow, what a woman! I plan to recreate our anniversary minus the tears, I hope. I am praying that the more often we go to San Marcos, the more I will "heal" and the tears will cease. That instead of dreading leaving to go home, I will look forward to returning again. And one day, I hope to retire there with the love of my life, and that you will all come visit and celebrate life with us!
The First Kiss
When I would spend the night at J's house, (I was a senior, she a junior in high school), I would lay down on my side, as I usually do when I sleep. She would lay down behind me and press her body against me. She didn't even have her arm around me. Our bodies fit so perfectly together. I knew she was my friend, but I had never wanted a friend to do that before. I could feel the warmth of her body against me, and the coolness and softness of her arm against mine. It never bothered me; I never questioned it. For some reason we needed to touch when we slept. We were still dressed in the clothes we had worn that day. We never wore pajamas. It almost felt like wasting time, to go into the bathroom and change clothes. I remember not wanting to waste a minute before getting in bed with her. But I didn't know why. I think I was also shy about being in pajamas. I remember having a "funny feeling" in my stomach whenever I was near her. We didn't even have to touch; it just happened. It was a very scary feeling because it was new to me, but it didn't really feel "wrong." I know it sounds naive, but I really didn't connect that feeling with being in her presence for some time. Sure, I had dated boys, but I had never experienced that feeling, never.
J and I became "intimate" not long after that, but, amazingly, no kissing was ever involved. It's weird, but it still didn't register in me what we were doing. I think I pushed it out of my mind every time. I just knew that I wanted to be in her arms and nowhere else in the world. I never once thought "I'm in love." I'm not sure I even knew what that meant. I knew what love was; I knew what sex was. I guess I just had a problem fusing the two together. Years later, I would tell a counselor that I lost my virginity to J. That is how I always saw it.
One day, we were in her living room -- and if I've told this story once, I apologize -- and we were playing video baseball. One of us made a homerun, and we turned to each other -- or maybe she pulled my face towards hers -- and she kissed me. I mean, she REALLY kissed me. I had never experienced anything like that in my entire life. We locked lips only, that was it. I was in shock! It felt so right. And that's when I knew that there was no going back. Maybe I tried to deny my feelings for her from the very start, but after that kiss, there was no denying anything. My question is: Can a kiss be better than sex? To me, it can be. I mean, there is nothing better in the world to me than being in J's arms, her kissing me. I told her last night, "I don't want you to stop kissing me." She said, "I won't." But that's not what I meant. I meant, "TONIGHT, please don't stop kissing me. I don't want to fall asleep. Don't stop kissing me. It makes me sad to think of you stopping. I want to stay awake! I am afraid that I will never wake up and so you will never kiss me again!" I think J is a wonderful kisser because she puts her entire soul into a kiss. It is her neverending love for me all wrapped up in her lips. And when she holds me, I feel like I am swaddled with the most beautiful gift in the universe, and it is all for me. Almost every night I rest my head on her shoulder while she is holding me, nuzzling my head to her neck, throwing my head back, my lips a half-inch away from hers. I can feel her breath on my face. I can feel my heart pounding so fast. And I lay there and think to myself, if I can just get close enough to her lips, and she can feel my breathing, she will kiss me again! And she does.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The Next Job
A few months after I started there, a gay couple leased the space on the other side of the shop. They opened a clothing store. My boss thought the two guys were wonderful. Well, not only were they practically the first gay men I had ever talked to, one of them's name was Tommy, and he was well known at Eckerd's for shoplifting. Not only that, but I had a very special, upsetting memory of Tommy as a child.
When I was about 12 years old, I rode my bike up to that same shopping center to buy my parents an anniversary present. I had saved up my money from babysitting. I still remember it like yesterday. I was at the Hallmark shop, and a deaf/mute man came up to me and handed me a card. It said that he was a deaf mute and would I buy a pencil from him? He was -- you guessed it -- Tommy. Being a naive 12-yr-old, I took money out of my parent's anniversary present money and handed it to him, and he gave me the pencil. Let me tell you, when you have worked that hard for money, and then you were going to spend it on your parents, and then you looked someone in the eye and gave it away intesd, you remember a face. Besides, I used to see him hanging around the shopping center even after that. Now, I know he didn't take all of my money, and who knows whether or not it made a difference in the quality of present I purchased that day, but, hell, he took my money! Years later, when he walked in the sandwich shop, I was in total shock at the same man I had seen for a couple of years, and he could hear and talk. By now, you know that my personality is one where I never speak up about anything, especially if I am wronged. I felt like it was my fault because I was too stupid to know that this guy was a fake. I stayed at the sandwich shop until I graduated from high school to make more money with a temp agency. Will talk about that another time.
My Love Type
Your Love Type: INFP |
The Idealist In love, you crave a long term, harmonious relationship. For you, sex doesn't come quickly - it takes time for you to open up. Overall, you are supportive, nurturing, and expressive. However, you tend to be shy and protective of your personal space. Best matches: ENFJ and ESFJ |
Monday, March 23, 2009
My Job Sucks
Today I got in trouble for something I didn't do. Granted, my assistant did it, but she was not at work today, so I couldn't pass on the love to her. And since I am basically in charge of her, I got it. I was reading some blog today, and the writer was talking about previous jobs she has had all the way back to the very beginning. So with that in mind let me take you back to my first job. I was 15. Me and a friend of mine went to the mall and tried to talk stores into hiring us. On about our tenth attempt this store hired both of us. It was called -- don't laugh -- The Nut Hut. Yep, seriously. They sold -- you guessed it-- nuts and candies out of a kiosk in the center of the mall. That was the place to be -- let me tell you. Everything imaginable happened in the center of the mall. And, man, the crank calls we used to get, hilarious. There was this one guy there who used to walk me to my car because another friend of mine got raped in the Foley's parking lot, and we were all scared to death after that. Anyway, he worked at Chick-Fil-A and would bring us free Chick-Fil-A cards, just like they have nowadays. We thought we were in heaven eating free Chick-Fil-A sandwiches. That was when they first came out. We also had a "Corn Dog" place that sold corn dogs, corn cheese, and fresh squeezed lemonade. Wow, between those two places and the nuts and candy, I'm surprised I didn't gain a lot of weight. I used to surprise my dad by bringing home a small bag of cashews or almonds. He used to always tell me, "Bring home the most expensive stuff you can." LOL
The worst things about working there? Weekly, we had to clean out every single jar with soap and water. It was sooooo boring. There must have been between 80 and 90 jars. We were encouraged to pass out "samples", but when you're 15 and kind of shy with authority, it's hard to tell an adult that they are taking too many free samples. I swear, people would make a buffet of samples. And at Christmas, the train and Santa were next to us. We had to hear the same Christmas songs over and over and over for hours. And the children crying because they didn't want to have their photo taken with Santa. They would start crying at the end of the line and didn't stop wailing until the photo was done. I worked there a year or so and decided after my cool boss quit that I would go ahead and quit, too, and find something closer to my house.
This will be the last entry for tonight. Don't want to bore you too much; you might not come back. I started working for Eckerd Drugs when I was around 16. I spoke a lot of Spanish, and the pharmacist used to call me on my days off and ask me to translate for customers over the phone. My dad finally made him stop because I could have gotten in a lot of trouble if I told the people the wrong info about the medicine. Plus, hey, it was my day off. My dad NEVER brought work home, never.
Okay, there were a lot of things that went on there that were really bad, really bad, and I was a part of them. Hence the reason that I quit a couple of years later. But stupid me let it go on for so long. I mean, certain people would have been arrested today (probably then, too) if I would have squealed. I am not proud of any of it. I'm not sure why I stayed so long. Maybe I thought I would lose my job, and I really liked my job, I guess because I really felt like I was doing a good job there. My boss really liked me a lot, I think one reason was because my register usually reconciled at the end of the night. I liked him a lot, too, even though I wouldn't admit it. He reminded me of Sabastian Cabot, I guess because of his beard. And even though he was very strict, he was extremely good at managing the store. He would let you know when he was disappointed with you -- would actually say, "I am disappointed in you." Ha ha. I like that. But he would drop it after that and never hold it against you. I always pretended I was scared of him, but deep down he was a teddy bear and wouldn't hurt a fly, and I knew that. If he would have known what was going on, he would have had some of the men prosecuted. My first week I caught a shoplifter, and I think he liked me after that. Whenever someone would come in that we suspected was lifting things, he always made me follow them, even leave my cash register to do so. But I never caught another one. He used to let me train employees on the register and on the floor. He almost fired me once he said because there was a misunderstanding. I didn't know I was supposed to work the day after Christmas. He called the house, and I was still in bed asleep. He said, "Everyone works the day after Christmas. Get your butt down here!" I was crushed. I honestly didn't know. When he left we got a woman manager named Charlie, and Charlie was tough on the outside but she would let people get away with things. When I quit I took less pay and fewer hours, and I was only two doors away at a sandwich shop. I always regretted quitting Eckerd's for some reason. I used to look at of the sandwich shop window when I was cleaning tables at the Eckerd's storefront and wish I was back there again. They might have hired me back, but I just couldn't do it. It just wasn't worth it. A perfectly good job down the toilet...
She's a Senior
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Interview
Anyway, there were five women and two men. Everyone else was wearing black or dark gray. However, I really liked the suit we picked out. It has more of a spring feel to it. And I was the only one wearing a skirt.
The lady liked my presentation and was impressed with my speaking ability. I wasn't that nervous because, after all, I ended up giving my presentation to only her and the other applicants. The 2-3 university employees I was supposed to give it to were not present. I came right out and told the woman that the position was not what I thought it was, and that I was more interested in becoming an "academic counselor", which she mentioned this position was NOT at the beginning of her presentation. She said that that department was hiring as well, so she is going to pass my resume along to them. Also, she recommended a position of "corporate liason." This would involve going to schools and companies and presenting the university to them, developing a relationship with them, and getting leads. Really, she seemed more impressed with my educational background than my business background, where I thought it would have been the other way around. She kept stressing that she would have me work mainly with students who were interested in a degree in education.
So, no, I do not have a new job, but it did boost my confidence for the next interview I have and reminded me that I CAN speak in public if it is about a topic I believe in.
My next question is, if this university calls me back in for another interview, will I go for it? Do I want to work for a company that I feel misled me and others with this job description? Hmm, I am not sure. If the interview was for academic counselor, maybe. I kind of doubt I will go for it if it is for the corporate liason. I kind of like the idea of having a desk space, coming to the same place everyday. And besides, I think I am getting too old to travel around from place to place, lugging a laptop and brochures, passing out pens and koozies to passersby. Been there, done that.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Google your first name and the words: needs, wants, loves, hates, believes, wishes, sleeps, smells, eats, tastes, and realizes. See what you get. This is what I came up with:
B needs a german shepherd.
Don't need one, but I sure do love dogs.
B wants You Tube.
So true. I love You Tube!
B hates guns.
Yes! I absolutely abhor them!
B believes in God.
Yep.
B wishes she'd never been to New York.
Have never been but would love to go were it not for flying.
B sleeps (can't).
Another yes. I have lots of problems sleeping. Just ask J!
B smells Mick's shirt.
Don't know Mick, and I would never smell his shirt.
B tastes muffins & chewy chocolaty fudge brownies.
They're okay, but I'm not much of a muffin or sweet eater.
B realizes she is not living the life she wants to.
So not true because I finally am!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo Day
Well, we went, and it was cold and rainy. Yuck! After a confrontation with a rude Sheriff's employee and two U-turns, we were finally admitted into the parking lot. Another woman got snippy with me in the restroom. We watched border collies herding sheep. That was sorta funny since they were amateurs.The rodeo was fun, but a horse got hurt, and I am obsessed with it. I think they probably had to kill it because they said they would come back on an announce its condition, and they never did. It was saddle riding bronco, if anyone hears of it. I have already googled, but haven't found anything yet.
Off the subject, may I just say that I despise the Flintstones because their episodes stress me out to the point that I cannot complete watching an episode. Other sitcoms treated me the same way - Gilligan's Island was one, but once I watched rerun after rerun I calmed down. With the Flintstones I don't watch reruns since it was so stressful the first time around. Why would I want to subject myself to such stress again? LOL I do, however, value Flinstones chewable vitamins, and eat two in the morning. My favorite is the purple Dino. Purple because it's my favorite color, as most of you know, Donny Osmond. Dino, I guess because he is a pest at times and won't shut up. I bite his neck first, always. J has a Flinstone checkbook cover that one day I am going to hide and burn.
And by the way, J, Baby, Darling, Honey, I won the chuck races today, BOTH OF THEM, so our bet payoffs stand as stated! Woohoo!
Our Saturday
I am on the mend, I think. I just hope the weather is not too bad because yesterday it was definitely hurting my chest when I breathed!
I have a job interview Wednesday. People, I REALLY want another job, and I think I would really enjoy this one. Plus, it would be in an environment where I would probably not have to hide my sexuality, and that is very important to me right now. So whatever you do, pray, meditate, send positive thoughts, please send them my way Wednesday at 10:00 a.m. central time. I have to present a 3-5 minute Power Point, so that is what I will be working on this weekend.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Spring Break
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I Am Awake
Look how big these dacquiris were, the equivalent of six drinks. This, after J and I each drinking a half bottle of champagne in the room after the ceremony. No wonder I am still sick a week and a half later he he. By the way, where did I get that jacket and who does it belong to????
Okay, time to hit the pillow again.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Text Message Survey
2. Open your txt messege inbox.
3. Answer the questions with a first sentence of the txt messege that has arrived.
4. Question 1 - First sentence from the first messege.
5. Question 2 - First sentence from the second messege, etc...
1. What would you say if your significant other was unfaithful?
Yeah, I did.
2. What do you always say to your best friend?
Love you, too. :o)
3. What is first thing you say when your friend is hit by a bus?
Okay
4 What is the worst thing you could say to your enemy?
Okay
5 What does your mother say before you go to sleep?
Okay
6 What would you scream if you won over a million in lottery?
Not eating with me?
7 What would you say to God if you met him/her?
Oh, boy.
8 What would you like to hear the most?
I am leaving Kroger. On the way home.
9 What will be your last words?
I'm sorry, Babe. Are you going home?
House Bread
House Bread
3 C lukewarm water
2 pkgs yeast (4 ½ tsp)
¾ tsp. ginger
1 T salt
2/3 C honey
7 – 7 ½ C white flour
1 C wheat germ
Pour water into large bowl. Add yeast and stir until dissolved. Stir in ginger, salt, honey, wheat germ and about 3 cups of flour. Beat with wooden spoon until smooth, at least 200 rapid beats; then add 4 cups of flour and more, if needed, until dough is stiff and not sticky. On floured board, knead until dough is smooth and elastic (5-8 minutes), adding more flour to eliminate stickiness. Butter palms of hands and put dough into greased ball form. Place in a large bowl to rise, cover with warm, wet towel. Let rise in warm place about an hour until double. Break rise in dough by punching down; then turn out on lightly floured board and shape into two loaves. Lightly grease pans and place loaves in pans. With knife make 3 or 4 slices diagonally across top of loaves. Then let rise again until double (about an hour). Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
For a good crust, place a pan of water on bottom rack of oven. Brush each loaf with melted butter just before placing in oven at 450 degrees. After 7 minutes, reduce heat to 350 degrees and continue baking another 35 minutes for large pans (25 minutes for smaller pans). Remove from oven, remove from pans. Brush again with melted butter. Crust will be very dark brown.
This bread makes wonderful cinnamon toast!
J's Name
For those of you who know J, she has a VERY uncommon name that most people have never heard before, so all those years apart, I never heard her name mentioned except maybe once by my grandmother. She said, "Hey, remember your roommate J in college? Was she gay?" "Hmmm. Not sure about that, Grandma." LOL Now, she has been told that I am living with J, but no one has ever come right out and said to her that we are a couple. I imagine that since she made that remark, that she has figured it out. She is not a stupid person.
So back to J's name. It is as uncommon as the name "Cher." When you say, "Cher", everyone knows exactly who you are talking about. When I say "J", you know that I am talking about the one and only "J." You know how sometimes a person will see or hear a name from their past and recollect good or bad times? Well, I never saw or heard J's name in all those years except for that one time, and it kind of made me sad. I never bothered to look in stores for collectibles with her name on them; there were none. Believe me, if there had been, I would have bought them. There is not even an alternate way to spell her name, I don't think. I told J once that God gave her that special name because he made her just for me. I know that it has been a big hassle for her at times, but it has always been one of the beautiful things about her that I have loved. It really kind of pissed me off in the ceremony when the minister mispronounced her name. Had it not been our most special day, I would have corrected him. J says that he said it correctly after I said her name in my vows. I was too emotional to notice.
As for me, I have always hated my first name. It is nine letters long. I had to write it at the top of my papers in elementary school. So when we moved to a new school in fourth grade, I announced to my parents that I was now going by the nickname of my formal name because it only had four letters. I hope to one day change my last name to J's. That is not in our near future. There is only so much I should expect my girls to handle. But when we sign things like raffle tickets, we sign with the same last name. Legally it will probably not have any value, but it is what I have ALWAYS wanted, since I was 18 years old. I think J's dad would have eventually been okay with it. My parents and J's mom, however, will probably disown us, if they haven't by then! My dad already asked me awhile back what last name I was going to use. I would like to keep my name the way it is until one or both of the girls marry.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Does It Matter Why I'm Gay?
I was reading Rebecca's post about her exorcism, and it reminded me of something I went through a couple of years ago. My friend R, who is the wife of a Methodist minister, but is waaay far from the Methodists' beliefs, did a theophostic session with me to cure me of my homosexuality. I had been exploring theophostic ministry for awhile with her. I never really believed in it, but, hell, I'd give anything a try. To learn more about it, click here: http://www.theophostic.com/. Off the subject, I also tried EFT: http://www.emofree.com/ (Emotional Freedom Techniques) for my OCD. I must say that the DVD's were quite convincing, albeit probably staged. R and my ex friend J still believe in and practice both of these ad nauseum. The EFT did nothing except make me feel silly. The theophostic sessions basically creeped me out.
The theophostic session. She told me that I was perverted but that I could be healed. It was pointed out to me that I was gay because I had been sexually abused as a child. Okay, I admit that the timeline possibly fits, I mean, I can't really remember a time in my life when the abuse was not going on, and I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't gay. But my point to her was and still is, "So what?" So what if maybe I wasn't born this way (which I believe I was), so what if being abused turned me away from men? So what if there is a "cause" for me being gay? I was abused as a child by a woman at least once, so why am I not asexual?" She told me that was because it only happened once or twice with a woman. Oh, okay, so the men cancel the woman out, like a full house beats two pair? This very same woman was abused by a man as a child, probably much more violently, too. Why isn't she gay? Many prostitutes have been victims of sexual abuse. Why didn't I turn out to be a prostitute? I mean, I told her that I really don't care why I am the way I am, I just am. She told me that I was going to hell if I did not do something about it. I believed her. She spouted off scripture after scripture telling me that I was going to hell, even though just a few months earlier she had told me that I was a Christian simply because I believed that Jesus was my saviour and died for my sins, that that was all it took, simple as that. She must be sitting there now, shaking her head at her failure to cure me. She tried, really she did. While she is sitting in a home dominated by a wife beater of a preacher husband, pretending that she is happy, she is pitying me for "choosing" homosexuality.
I don't like to be put in a box and analyzed like a germ through a microscope. I think my mom is probably wondering what she and Dad did wrong. I suspect that my dad (the logical thinker) thinks it is because of my abuse, and, therefore, beyond my control -- yea! I am off the hook here! My ex best friend texted me in December and told me that she wished I hadn't left, that I would have asked my ex-husband for help first. Hellooooo, was he supposed to cure my gayness? Would you want to be with someone who wasn't in love with you?
It boggles my mind (and hurts my feelings) how people look at me like I have some sort of disease or something. I met a woman yesterday who is spending A LOT of time with my 15-yr-old, almost like a substitute mom. She came on the scene to "help" my daughter when I left. I could tell by the way that she presented herself to me that she pitied me in some way. She made a big deal about going out of her way to shake my hand. But I kept my shoulders back and my head up. I didn't thank her for all the things she has done for my daughter. You know why? Because I could have done all those things had I been allowed to. Another lady at the church took this same daughter to lunch last Friday and ended up spending the entire day with her to "get to know her." I think that is weird. No one needs to be fostering my daughter. She has a mom. I know they think that I am a terrible role model; but the fact is that my daughter is probably not gay, so what do they think I am going to do to her if not make her gay? My daughters' counselor told me that some children fear that because one of the parents is gay, that they will be, also. He said that the hardest part for them is not that I left their dad, but that I am gay.
J said it best when she told me that in order for my children to not be ashamed of who I am, that I have to show them that I myself am not ashamed. That is soooo true. I would imagine that in a few months, I will have a heart to heart talk with my daughter about what exactly I feel for J. I really feel that J and I are very different than most lesbian love stories since we go back to first loves. I feel that I am going to have an easier time discussing my sexuality to her because of this. At 15, first love is something that she can already relate to; she has been through that already. I think it will be a good starting point for discussion, "Remember your first love, how you felt when he looked at you? Spoke to you? All the thoughts you had about your future together?" My dream is that one day my girls will want to meet J and get to know her, and especially know how much J loves me and that she is taking care of me, and that I am sooo much healthier and better off with J because I am truly with my soulmate and happy.
Does it matter why I'm gay? No. I stopped asking myself that question a few years ago. What matters is what I am going to do about it. Answer: Live my life with the one I love, stop making excuses for who I am, show my family and ex friends that I am healthy, happy, and productive, and that I can still be a good mom to my girls. I did my kids a favor. I gave them answers to questions they had been asking probably their whole lives. I could have taken my life, but instead, I took the brave way out.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Saturday
Today took 15-yr-old shopping. It went well. I bought her her first thong. What a momentous occasion ha ha. She got some really cute things. Is looking for a formal dress. It is really hard to decide which one to get; they are all so unique. I think she is going to go back for the black one. Her favorite, a creme color, didn't go with her skin tone. There is a new color out this year, sort of a cross between pink and peach. It's gorgeous. But all of them we saw dipped down too far in the back or were out of our price range.
Things were much more relaxed today. She got real quiet a few times in the car -- not sure what that was about; maybe she was just deep in thought. She put her arms around me in the mall. We talked about friends, boys, tampon brands, ha ha, just about everything under the sun, except for J, of course. That will be coming up soon because, you see, my plan is to have her over here at the apartment next time for the day. J will go to her mom's. I want her to see where we live, that I do have a life. I think it will give her a sense of security knowing where to find me if she needed to. Not knowing where I am at night, well, I think that would feel quite strange not knowing where your mom actually is.
I want to publicly thank Rebecca on her wonderful posts last week on Christianity. I needed to hear ALL OF THAT! I have gleaned a lot from her thoughts and research on the subject, and I plan to go back during spring break and tear into her posts bit by bit. Check her blog out if you get the chance - http://truthandlovebylandr.blogspot.com/
Friday, March 6, 2009
Not a Clue What to Write
I am going to describe a few of my favorite home videos that I can remember.
1. A video of my grandmother in Florida stealing some green tomatoes from a field and stowing them in the trunk so that she would not get caught. (You are not allowed to pick the green ones in those pick-your-own places)
2. My 18-yr-old when she was about one, in a walker in the backyard. She hit a hole and fell over in slow motion.
3. An 8 mm movie of our neighbor over our fence and cutting down my mother's favorite bushes because she was mad at my parents.
4. My grandfather blowing smoke in his niece's ear to cure her earache.
5. Any videos of me and my brother together. We were once close; we just didn't know it at the time.
My least favorite video: It's on J's phone. Ha ha!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Another Day Off
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
More Photos from Vegas
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
How Well Do You Know Your Husbian?
How well do you know your husbian? (FG, I changed the name from "husband.")
I stole this from Freedom Girl.
1. Ze’s sitting in front of the TV; what is on the screen? Two and Half Men or Reba.
5. Where did ze go to high school? Houston
7. If ze was to collect anything, what would it be? watches
9. What would this person eat every day if ze could? Pickles or my recipe for Egg in the Nest
10. What is hir favorite cereal? No clue. Going to guess Cheerios or Rice Krispies
12. What is hir favorite sports team? Texas Longhorns