Friday, April 30, 2010

FUCK IT (at the top of my lungs)

It hurts very bad.  Tonight has been the worst.

Breakups suck.

I have the kidlets again and I just realized that I haven't taken the garbage out, opened my refrigerator (seriously), or did any laundry since they were here last.  But now I have to.  I have to go back to reality I s'pose.  My car insurance is now lapsed, I have an assignment due on Sunday I haven't started, and I'm going to have to BEG someone in the Youth Soccer League to let me sign up L still because... yep... missed that deadline too. 

I am overwhelmed with life and emotion.

Where do I go from here?  Oh I know... Arizona.  See you soon buddy.

I'm Lonely.

There.  I said it.  Do I want to go hang out at a friend's house?  Not really.  I don't even want to talk on the phone with anyone.
Then how can I complain that I am lonely?  I don't know.  I just am.  And I'm not sure how to fix it, or if I want to fix it.

I don't think I am supposed to "do" anything... I think I'm supposed to just allow myself to feel it.  To survive it. 

So I am.

Something to distract you from my current bitchiness:

Just a Small Rant (part 1)

Bear with me here.  I've had a trying past couple of days. weeks. months.

I need to bitch again.  Surprise, surprise you are thinking.  Fuck yeah. 

I've written before about the "image" of lesbianism when my friend asked if I'd still be wearing my sundresses this year.  (In her defense, I know she was only teasing me.)  I feel like I need to write a little more.

Do you think Portia was asked, when she first came out to the cast and crew on the Ally McBeal  set "Are you sure you are gay?"   Do you think that because she has been blessed with such striking beauty she has had a more difficult time as a young lesbian woman or has this helped her and her career?  Is it more acceptable that she is gay because... well ... look at her.  Men and women alike want to look at her.  Or are men pissed that this beautiful woman doesn't want them between her legs, no matter how good they think they are at "it?" And are women threatened by her?

In short, has her looks helped her or hurt her?  Do we really care?

I guess I've been caring a little more.  Not because I find myself attracted to Mrs. De Rossigenerous, no no no, I can see and appreciate her stunning beauty but she's not really my vision of sexual attraction.  I have been more concerned with the media's portrayal of who and what a lesbian looks like and what that does to society's perception of lesbians OF all kinds.

An example: the HBO hit series The L Word.  I'm rolling my eyes as I plunk away at the keys.  If you've never seen the show, let me invite you out from under your rock and direct you to Netflix where you can download entire series after series and watch them right on your computer.  However, you really only need to see a few episodes and you'll "get it."  Maybe it's me.  Maybe it's because I am not so interested in femme on femme sex.  I don't know.  It seemed like it was the same "type" of lesbian with different names.  Pretty stereotypical types too.  And the only thing closest to a butch was Shane, who ... really.... represented more of a tomboi.  In defense (I suppose), I know plenty of lesbians that really loved this series and felt like "they" finally were represented on mass media. (Also, if anyone's seen the complete L Word series and I am wrong let me know.  I gave up on it after like season 2.)

Yes, I realize I am using a fuckerton of labels here.  In my little ol' humble opinion though... it is what it is and we are what we are.

Let's move on to Portia's wife, Ellen DeGeneres.  Remember when she had her TV show in the 90s and she was going to come out on network television?  Was anyone else thinking to themselves, "Uhhhhh yeah.... she's gay.  And the 'big news' is what?"  TeeHee... Look at this picture I found.  I imagine Ellen thinking the same thoughts.  Okay, now, all the same questions to Portia, let's throw them at Ellen.  Hmm.  I don't think she was repeatedly questioned, "Are you sure you're gay?"  I wonder if any men ever said to her, "But I'm really good at going down on women, you just haven't ever had a real man do it properly."

I don't think so.

I love Ellen.  I love her comfort in her skin and I love her happiness in life. 

Also, I remember when I was in high school and head over heels in love (wow, that's an image) with H.  She and I laughed our asses off watching Ellen and reading her book My Point: And I Do Have One.  I felt drawn to this woman and wanted to know more about her.  I couldn't believe that everywhere I looked, I couldn't find any information anywhere that confirmed she WAS gay.

That was what life was like for me then though, trying to figure out who "was" and who "wasn't" and if you know where I live you understand that.

So when Ellen came out in 1997, the same year I had my first baby, I felt happy that one of us was being completely true to herself.

I couldn't be happier today now that she has found this amazing partner in life, and their happiness is palpable in every photo we see of them.

Hmmmm... my point... I DID HAVE ONE!

I had a very bad night last night.  Had dinner with an old friend, who happens to have a penis so he can't really help a lot of this I suppose.  The evening started okay, I set him "straight" a couple of times when he made some comments like, "What made you choose....."  and other bullshit like that.

Right before I was ready to leave though, he said to me, "What if you could be with a man that is exactly like you?"  I am not really sure what that means.  First of all, if he is exactly like me, then he'll have a pussy?  He will never be exactly like me.  But I guess what he was referring to was my personality... so I went with that.  I told him I had been with men that had a personality like mine.  He just looked at me.  Then said, "Just not what you like then?"  Like he was waiting for an explanation.  I've never felt like I had to explain anything when everyone thought I was straight.  And I'm quite certain that no one has ever asked him to explain why he like petite, brunette women.  I just smiled and said, "Not what I like."

Another comment men like to make is the one I made above when discussing Ellen.  On the topic of oral sex: I've heard that "I'm really good at it" to which I reply, "So am I" and I've heard "But I really like doing it" to which I reply, "So do I."  Apparently I just need to find a man that can go down on me "better" and then I'll be straight "again."

I would like to ask you, dear straight men, what if a man could suck your dick EVEN BETTER than your wife/girlfriend/best lover?  Oh, not interested?  But what if he REALLY liked doing it?  What if he was told all the time he was really good at it?  Still not interested?  What's wrong?  I don't get it?  Is it just "not what you like?"  Don't  you like to have your cock sucked off?

OH I KNOW!  What if he has really soft hands, like a woman, and gets manicures and pedicures once a month?   (The guy I had dinner with actually told me that bullshit and I couldn't hold back my laughter.)

I'll come back with a Part 2.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Don't we have more important things to worry about?

Today Illinois State Rep. Deb Mell addressed the House regarding legalizing gay marriage in Illinois and specifically spoke about her own engagement to Christin Baker.

Legislation to legalize civil unions passed in the House committee nearly a year ago (yay!!) but apparently 60 votes are still needed to send it to the Senate according the Chicago Tribune article posted on April 28, 2010.

I think it's fantastic that we have such an outspoken female leader and gay rights advocate representing "us" in Illinois.  Rep. Mell has even been arrested for protesting her inability to get a (same-sex) marriage license from the Cook County clerk's office (that's my favorite).

Now, may I direct my reader's attention to the Chicago Tribune article, and if you could all just scroll down to the bottom... go ahead... a little further... to the "Comments" section.  What the fuck is this bitch Nancy talking about, "Don't we have more important things to worry about?"

 I mean REALLY!  Equality is really no big deal.  Sheesh.

Frank Henry at it again. (vulgarity to follow)

My daughter, L, called me at 9:45 last evening and she was hysterical.  I couldn't understand her.  She is my "middle" and has been very quiet lately.  I got her to calm down enough to recount the details of the evening and tell me why she was so upset.  Sounded to me like normal sibling bickering.  (For those readers that don't know, I have five kidlets.)  She was clearly upset by something else, so we just kept talking.

Here's where I get gut-punched.  Her father had threatened her that she would have to live with me if she didn't start behaving.

Yeah, yeah . . .  "What?  A non-custodial mother?!"  Gasp.  Bite me bitches.  I do what works for my kids.

So here is this ass-bag though, using living arrangements as a threat?  As a parenting tool?  Get a fucking clue dickwad.  Of course when I talked to him about it, and tried to explain how completely inappropriate and unhealthy this is for the children . . . he accuses me of already ruining them with my "lifestyle" and then hangs up on me.

So which is you fucking piece of dog shit?  Do you want to send the kids back to their mom?  Or is their gay mom ruining them for life? 

I guess it's whatever is convenient for him at the time.  I do think two things have contributed to this though; his nanny mother was buried today, and he has a new potential child bride girlfriend.  So I guess he is stressed.  WHAT THE FUCK EVER.  Guess what douche bag, stress is a part of life.  Cope with it.  Leave the kids out of it.

Okay.  End of rant.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Time for some RAINBOWS!

My life has been very sad lately with "processing" this breakup and I really just needed a laugh today. Instead I got a trip to the Emergency Department of a hospital that was miles from my hometown. To put it mildly, it sucked. I can't tell you what anxiety can do to a person's body. It can do almost anything it wants. Fucker. There might not be enough ativan in the pharmacy for me this week. I am going to need to phone in some back up.

I am properly dosed with my little friends now though... so... let's blog shall we?

I was reading another blog today and the question this author posed was "who would you go gay for?" Firstly, I don't believe it quite works that way. But I understood his lighthearted meaning at the blog posting. Quite truthfully my friends and I have played similar games like this.

Anywoo... He had listed among his male choices that he may go gay for Jeffrey Donovan:

I said in a most kidding fashion that I might go straight for him! He's a looker!! But my real passion is for his partner Fiona (Gabrielle Anwar):

Yes. She's very hot. I'm totally not into femmes at all, but something about her makes me want to throw her down and ... well... yeah. Don't know where that came from. Sorry.

Swallowed Whole

What are you afraid of? I am afraid of being swallowed whole. Not by a tiger or by a whale, but by a relationship. I've already almost been there and escaped! It took many years, but I broke free from a "very wrong" marriage that almost swallowed me whole.

What does this mean, to be swallowed whole? I guess it's like losing my entire self. Just becoming whoever the other person wants or needs or expects me to be. Allowing myself to be swallowed is the worst feeling in the world, because I know it's happening but I don't feel like there is any other way out. The entire time I am thinking that it's not really happening.

Recently I was told that my every thought should be shared with my partner, and I had such a difficult time with that. I couldn't do it. It felt like I was entering that place again where I would lose myself all over again. Ironically, it pushed me further into closing down. How much more ironic is it that now I am telling the entire world my thoughts? (Entire world? Okay, three readers! LOL)

My point is that do relationships really require one or both parties to become swallowed up whole? Is it really necessary to lose one's self? Or is it *me*? Am I defunct in some manner that will not allow me to share my every thought with my partner, no matter how in love and how close I've become with her?

I wonder if it was living so many years straight and married in a very dysfunctional marriage that has pushed me into this logic. Or is it her logic that is dysfunctional?

All I know is that no amount of love and passion, and believe me our relationship certainly had quantities and quantities of both, can fix this. Mainly because I don't necessarily think I need to be fixed. I don't think she thinks she needs to be fixed either.

When I was married I felt so fragmented - that there were parts of me everywhere that could never be put together and that I would never be whole again. After my divorce, it took some time, but I am feeling whole finally. I spent so much time learning who this woman is, learning who *I* am, that I feel like I have to fight to keep her whole. I actually get a physiologic response when I think about this.

I'm just not ready yet...

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Support - the uncomfortable, underwire in your armpit kind...

I recently reconnected with an old friend on Facebook. These reconnections can be good and bad. I usually am very deliberate about who I add to my Friends List. I try to check out their profile, read their wall posts, find out what groups they belong to, etc. It is a little ridiculous. I admit it. I didn't really do that this time. According to Facebook we had one friend in common and this mutual friend is just a gem. Plus I really did enjoy talking with this guy in the past.

What the hell. I hit the "confirm" button and suddenly my inbox is flooded with messages like every five minutes. I wasn't even responding to him. It was like his monologue just random in messages to me. I thought it pretty harmless and was even grateful for some of the information he provided me. For example, I found out that a mutual friend of ours died last year! I had no clue!!

He asked me for medical advice, and I told him that I specialize in more of the "vagina specialty" as I am a midwifery student. I thought we could get a laugh at that. Anyway, when he asked his sports injury question anyway and wanted to know if he could have my phone number... it hit me. Ton of bricks. I'm a fucking idiot.

So I pointed out to him... I'm gay/have a girlfriend/thought you knew.

He tells me, "I didn't know you were gay, but I support any decision you make."

What is that about? I decided to be gay? Thanks for the support. Anyway. I stopped messaging him. He continued to send messages, and this morning I woke up with one that said "I'm not a stalker but here is my cell number." Wow. Not a stalker at all. No way in hell am I giving out my cell number. And goodbye Facebook friend.


I was going to discuss this with my girlfriend before beginning this journey; however, after last night’s huge, dramatic explosion of emotions and vomiting of words I do not think we will be discussing anything blog related… and I am quite certain she no longer calls herself my girlfriend.  More on this topic later.
So, to remain semi-anonymous or not . . . that is the question I’m thinking about right now.  Let’s face it, no one is reading this right now, except MAYBE her and if I gave the blog address to some of my closest friends, at least I would have some readers that would give me some feedback.  However, would that just make me censor my words?  Because then I would be writing “for” them?  And what about when I want to write about more, *ahem* personal aspects of my life… like the pony rides!  LOL!!
All I know is that if feels good to be writing something that is not a graduate school paper.  I don’t give a fuck about my spelling and grammar right now and I can use the word fuck if I want to.  Okay, that’s a small lie… I care a little about my grammar, but I think “fragments” are fine in blog writing.
For now, three people have the blog address.  I am fine with that.  I have to admit there are some super strong women in my life that I would love to invite over here.  Maybe someday I will. 

Friday, April 23, 2010

I miss her:

I miss the woman who gave me this:

When you come to the edge of all the light you know, and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly. ~ Barbara Winter Patrick Overton

I wish I could tell her I love her.  I loved her then and I love her now.  I miss her.  I want to thank her for showing me that I was able and because of her I now know that I am able.

I miss her. 

Real Lesbians Wear Dresses Too

Spring is in the air.  Recently I was talking to a friend about how half of my wardrobe still being at my ex-husband's house.  This just happens to be the spring/summer half of the wardrobe.

My sundresses.  My beautiful, lovely sundresses.  Some short, some long, some with halter style ties, some strapless . . . all of them very femme and very sexy.  I will want those back.  Of course the best option would be to be able to purchase new dresses for this season, but let's face it who can afford that?  I can't.  I couldn't even afford to get divorced (and ironically I couldn't afford not to).

My friend said to me, "I bet by the end of summer you aren't wearing any of them."  I assured her I would be.  I love dressing!!  I love bare shoulders in the summer and I love being able to wear the strappy sexy sandals with my dresses.  Yes, it's very femme, but I never claimed to be anything other.

So, by this being my first summer as "out" in my lesbianism... in my sexuality... this will change my wardrobe?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Perhaps for some.  I think I always dressed the way I wanted.  I was the same woman last summer as I am this spring and summer.  Do I carry myself differently?  I think so.  But I think it's an improvement.  And I think the dress will only look better.