From the rugby practice I went to:
Spectating rugby can be as much of a contact sport as the actual sport. Surprisingly, a rugby ball to the face hurts less than you think it might.
From my blond twin:
Broccoli does not belong in breakfast. This point cannot be emphasized enough.
From my girlfriend:
I have a slight problem with hooded sweatshirts. I apparently own thirteen that I actually wear. More are lurking wadded in the closet. The GF is staging an intervention.
From my own experience:
The period before my period causes me to want to eat an entire case of Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Downtown and disgruntled
Friday night was ArtWalk. Generally speaking, I enjoy the event, because it's not often I get the opportunity to go look at art. Sure, there's the joy of looking at a tree and thinking to one's self: Wow! That's pretty. But that's about the extent of my art appreciation.
A friend of mine had asked me to go with her to explore some of the new collections being displayed. Since the man wasn't due off work until after 9, it seemed like a great idea. Oh how wrong I was.
Somehow, my brain experienced a lapse equal to that of, oh, the Grand Canyon. I HATE public places during large-scale events. People are rude, inconsiderate, and just plain dumb. You don't believe me already? Here are a few of my choice examples of the weekend.
Gallery one:
Politely waited at the door while those inside wished to come out. What I forgot was that there were teenagers in town...er, existence. Unbeknownst to me, the lesson of "wait your turn" has been removed from public schools. Not only did we wait for the 10 people coming out of the gallery to exit, we had to wait for 10 other people who decided that my holding a door for my one friend was their cue to barge past me.
Please note, I'm a generally nice guy. I tend to open doors for ladies. I tend to even grab the chair at a restaurant, if the opportunity arises. My boyfriend has been visibly flustered by my willingness to do the same for him (apparently guys don't do nice things for one another; I somehow was left out of that memo). I even--hold your gasps, please!--unlock the passenger side door for guests entering my car. One rule does apply, though. Generally speaking, if I'm kind enough to unlock your door before walking around to my side, it's a good idea to unlock my door once you're in.
These same teens had dissapate from the entryway. Forget that there's a wide-open floor in front of us; they couldn't be bothered to move more than 3 feet from the door. Perhaps there was an invisible forcefield of which I wasn't aware. I tend to be oblivious to things like that when there's OPEN SPACE.
We wandered the gallery for a good twenty minutes. Some of the art was great; some of it was okay. One piece really intrigued me, so much so that I commented to my gal-friend, "I really REALLY like this." Looking closer at the description card, "And apparently so does the artist!" My friend looked closer, and she, too, nearly fell over. Having studied art in college, she has a better grasp on these things than I do, but if you're not Picasso, $12 THOUSAND for a painting is just a lot of money.
Leaving the same gallery was equally daunting. In addition to the ten people trying to come in--at least they were somewhat nicer about letting people out!--we had to wait for the (wait for it...) TEENAGERS who immediately gathered at the door to filter out, despite our being IN THE DOORWAY.
Walk this way:
We begin wandering the streets. Passing small shops and restaurants, we come to a small-scale parking garage. Just before we get to the driveway of said garage, we see a car pull out from the garage and up to the street. It's not enough to wait in the busy traffic area to allow pedestrians to cross in front of him. He blocks the sidewalk.
In an effort I can only claim must have been meant to impress little ol' me and my gal-pal, he revved his puny-ass engine. I've heard mice farts louder and more impressive. (My brother used to work at a tire shop...I know what a good engine sounds like...and that wasn't it.)
We begin to advance on the car, our thought being to walk behind the car and around it. No go. Another car decides to pull his bumper less than twelve inches from the car in front of him. At this point, I don't care. I'm crossing here, and I've already lost my ability to get on the sidewalk. The traffic isn't moving quick enough for the car in front to get on the street. I'm going.
Because we had to squeeze our way between the cars, I'm a little thankful my gal-pal has good boobs. I'm sure that gave the second driver some distraction as we crossed. Otherwise, he'd probably have busted my knees.
Gallery 2:
We got past the garage without any major damage. Unless you consider inhaling other people's cigarette smoke damaging. Personally, I'm a fan of breathing (moderately) fresh air. I'm weird like that.
We find another gallery, this one in a loft area of a building. I'm kind of excited, because it looks like an interesting collection. we get up the stairs, and for some reason I am as yet unable to explain, there's a basic rule. IF YOU GO INSIDE A ROOM, GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR. People want to come in, and others wish to exit; if you stand in the doorway, you prevent both from happening.
My gal-pal looks at me with a "which way" glance. I poke forward, the path of least resistance--and people...which happens to lead to a fairly open space. Within mere seconds, we're enjoying sculptures, glasswork, and paintings. A minute later, we've bumped into friends, and everyone's having a great time. I'm feeling good, and enjoying the art. Until I see the piece that looks like it landed on a shelf straight from Beetlejuice.
I'm simply saying that it's not my taste. Anything that is a small sculpture with nothing but bird heads, which also serves as a serving dish or vessel of some sort....well, it's just creepy.
Thankfully, we were able to leave there quickly.
The rest of Friday was pretty basic. My man and I got together for a very late dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. We went for a brief walk afterword, hoping to catch a last glimpse of some of the galleries still open. We didn't have much luck, but it was nice to peek in windows, anyway.
We enjoyed downtown so much at that hour, we decided to head back the next night for a movie, drinks, and dinner.
Again, I'm a nice guy. I typically stand at the corner intersection, despite a crosswalk, and wait until the traffic has dissapated until I begin to cross the street. (Even growing up on a farm oustide of a VERY rural town, I know to look both ways before crossing! Maybe an overprotective mom isn't such a bad thing!) But I forgot how dumb some people are.
Just as we have waited for the traffic to clear out a little, we begin to walk across the street. There's a stop sign, so we aren't too worried about being run over. Until we see some sweet little brunette who decided her getting onto the one-way downtown was far more important than following something like traffic laws.
Literally 2 feet from our being at her car, she pulls in front of us, blocking off the crosswalk. We had to go around her.
I'm sure she figured that her being reasonably attractive--and behind the wheel of a car--would get her somewhere. But, honey, you got two gay men walking by you. We don't notice either...nor would we wish to.
A friend of mine had asked me to go with her to explore some of the new collections being displayed. Since the man wasn't due off work until after 9, it seemed like a great idea. Oh how wrong I was.
Somehow, my brain experienced a lapse equal to that of, oh, the Grand Canyon. I HATE public places during large-scale events. People are rude, inconsiderate, and just plain dumb. You don't believe me already? Here are a few of my choice examples of the weekend.
Gallery one:
Politely waited at the door while those inside wished to come out. What I forgot was that there were teenagers in town...er, existence. Unbeknownst to me, the lesson of "wait your turn" has been removed from public schools. Not only did we wait for the 10 people coming out of the gallery to exit, we had to wait for 10 other people who decided that my holding a door for my one friend was their cue to barge past me.
Please note, I'm a generally nice guy. I tend to open doors for ladies. I tend to even grab the chair at a restaurant, if the opportunity arises. My boyfriend has been visibly flustered by my willingness to do the same for him (apparently guys don't do nice things for one another; I somehow was left out of that memo). I even--hold your gasps, please!--unlock the passenger side door for guests entering my car. One rule does apply, though. Generally speaking, if I'm kind enough to unlock your door before walking around to my side, it's a good idea to unlock my door once you're in.
These same teens had dissapate from the entryway. Forget that there's a wide-open floor in front of us; they couldn't be bothered to move more than 3 feet from the door. Perhaps there was an invisible forcefield of which I wasn't aware. I tend to be oblivious to things like that when there's OPEN SPACE.
We wandered the gallery for a good twenty minutes. Some of the art was great; some of it was okay. One piece really intrigued me, so much so that I commented to my gal-friend, "I really REALLY like this." Looking closer at the description card, "And apparently so does the artist!" My friend looked closer, and she, too, nearly fell over. Having studied art in college, she has a better grasp on these things than I do, but if you're not Picasso, $12 THOUSAND for a painting is just a lot of money.
Leaving the same gallery was equally daunting. In addition to the ten people trying to come in--at least they were somewhat nicer about letting people out!--we had to wait for the (wait for it...) TEENAGERS who immediately gathered at the door to filter out, despite our being IN THE DOORWAY.
Walk this way:
We begin wandering the streets. Passing small shops and restaurants, we come to a small-scale parking garage. Just before we get to the driveway of said garage, we see a car pull out from the garage and up to the street. It's not enough to wait in the busy traffic area to allow pedestrians to cross in front of him. He blocks the sidewalk.
In an effort I can only claim must have been meant to impress little ol' me and my gal-pal, he revved his puny-ass engine. I've heard mice farts louder and more impressive. (My brother used to work at a tire shop...I know what a good engine sounds like...and that wasn't it.)
We begin to advance on the car, our thought being to walk behind the car and around it. No go. Another car decides to pull his bumper less than twelve inches from the car in front of him. At this point, I don't care. I'm crossing here, and I've already lost my ability to get on the sidewalk. The traffic isn't moving quick enough for the car in front to get on the street. I'm going.
Because we had to squeeze our way between the cars, I'm a little thankful my gal-pal has good boobs. I'm sure that gave the second driver some distraction as we crossed. Otherwise, he'd probably have busted my knees.
Gallery 2:
We got past the garage without any major damage. Unless you consider inhaling other people's cigarette smoke damaging. Personally, I'm a fan of breathing (moderately) fresh air. I'm weird like that.
We find another gallery, this one in a loft area of a building. I'm kind of excited, because it looks like an interesting collection. we get up the stairs, and for some reason I am as yet unable to explain, there's a basic rule. IF YOU GO INSIDE A ROOM, GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR. People want to come in, and others wish to exit; if you stand in the doorway, you prevent both from happening.
My gal-pal looks at me with a "which way" glance. I poke forward, the path of least resistance--and people...which happens to lead to a fairly open space. Within mere seconds, we're enjoying sculptures, glasswork, and paintings. A minute later, we've bumped into friends, and everyone's having a great time. I'm feeling good, and enjoying the art. Until I see the piece that looks like it landed on a shelf straight from Beetlejuice.
I'm simply saying that it's not my taste. Anything that is a small sculpture with nothing but bird heads, which also serves as a serving dish or vessel of some sort....well, it's just creepy.
Thankfully, we were able to leave there quickly.
The rest of Friday was pretty basic. My man and I got together for a very late dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. We went for a brief walk afterword, hoping to catch a last glimpse of some of the galleries still open. We didn't have much luck, but it was nice to peek in windows, anyway.
We enjoyed downtown so much at that hour, we decided to head back the next night for a movie, drinks, and dinner.
Again, I'm a nice guy. I typically stand at the corner intersection, despite a crosswalk, and wait until the traffic has dissapated until I begin to cross the street. (Even growing up on a farm oustide of a VERY rural town, I know to look both ways before crossing! Maybe an overprotective mom isn't such a bad thing!) But I forgot how dumb some people are.
Just as we have waited for the traffic to clear out a little, we begin to walk across the street. There's a stop sign, so we aren't too worried about being run over. Until we see some sweet little brunette who decided her getting onto the one-way downtown was far more important than following something like traffic laws.
Literally 2 feet from our being at her car, she pulls in front of us, blocking off the crosswalk. We had to go around her.
I'm sure she figured that her being reasonably attractive--and behind the wheel of a car--would get her somewhere. But, honey, you got two gay men walking by you. We don't notice either...nor would we wish to.
Friday, February 6, 2009
What marriage do you want?
Probably, I won't say anything new here, and that's okay. Still, I want to rant about the marriage concept the predominant culture seems so inclined to "protect." And if we actually looked at those silly things called "facts", everyone might notice that maybe--just possibly--nobody would want marriage in the first place.
Please understand, before I get started and before you send angry emails to me or to Les Bian, I'm a full advocate of equal rights. It won't be equal until it's 100% equal, as far as I'm concerned. But we're arguing over a term that may not be of interest to any of us, if we really understood it.
Let's say, for the poor sake of argument, we wish to fight for marriage equal to that indicated in Scripture. I don't think any of us who want marriage rights for the LGBT community really want that for ourselves. And if we do, our partners may disagree with the option on other grounds! Let's start at the very beginning, because if Julie Andrews taught good gay boys and lesbian girls anything, the beginning is a very good place to start!
Adam and Eve. The only reason they ended up together is because otherwise Adam would've resorted to beastiality. I somehow doubt that'll fly for most of the LGBT community.
Abram (Abraham) and Sarai (Sarah). Okay. That'd be all right, if we totally ignore how Abraham had sex with Sarai's servant girl in order to have an heir. By the way, that's what eventually led to the split between the Israelites and the much-later followers of Islam. Do we really want that in our mix? I'm thinking no.
Samson and Delilah. Okay. Bad example from the outset. She tricks him so she can cut off his masculinity...in the form of his hair. This one's self-explanatory. (Men everywhere just crossed their legs while considering this one.)
Joseph and Mary. I'd probably go for this, but we might want to be a little cautious. According to Catholic lore, Joseph got no nookie. Ever. I'm guessing that won't go over well. (I don't even think heterosexuals would go for that option.)
The Wedding at Cana. Really great party. We know nothing of the marriage that followed. NEXT.
We can't even mention Jesus. According to traditional understanding, Jesus was a loner. Now, there are a few theologians who argued differently...some even positing that Jesus may have been gay. Hence the whole thing about John being a "beloved disciple". Still, that's no concrete example of what marriage is or should be.
If we are to look to Scripture as a guide--and I'm speaking to the men for a moment, here--there's the whole Joshua and David thing. Vaguely, I recall something being mentioned about "closer than a brother." Looking at linguistics, "brother" was often considered WAY more than what we mean now. In addition the option of sharing parents, the term would equally equate the closest male companion of a male (or, in fewer cases, a female). In some cultures, "brother" or "sister" even referred to one's spouse.
So maybe we decide Scripture's not the best source. That's okay, too. Let's go to history and see how marriage looked.
Marriage as a contract. Purely a legal term, we want only to be able to take our partner's property, and be able to have control over their rights. Generally, this aligns pretty closely with what we seem to be arguing for with "civil unions." The only problem with this idea is that is has nothing to do with love or a recognition of commitment. It's purely a legal concept and could be annulled.
Marriage as a relationship. Add to the contract concept that we are a committed couple. Okay, that works. Except that even with marriage identified as a "special relationship", it doesn't say anything about the historical or traditional concepts of marriage. When marriage was seen as a special relationship, men often had additional women for sexual gratification. While this appeals to some, I'm guessing there will be people in an uproar over that.
We can also add to this the ideas of polygamy (or rarer cases of polygyny). That throws a big kink into our hose of marriage. Personally, that doesn't appeal to me--but if it works for other people...I guess they have their own battle to fight.
History shows that Marriage as a sacramental union didn't really happen until sometime between the 11th and 13th Centuries. The argument is over a term that wasn't in existence a LOT longer than it HAS been in exsitence. (You know, if you consider a few hundred thousand years a "long time", that is.)
Let's understand where we are now:
As a spiritual/religious person, yeah. I do. I want to be able to look at my partner, know he's mine in both my eyes and God's. That's a personal understanding, between me, my partner, and God.
I want my church to recognize our relationship as special, as blessed, and as fully committed. But that's my argument with my church. Not the state.
I want my family to recognize us as a unit, one pair that is always a pair, not simply two seperate entities who get sexual release from one another. (Though somehow, I kind of doubt my family even wants to think about me having sex. Period. Male or female doesn't matter here. I'm pretty sure they think I'm still chaste, despite having been partnered nearly a year!) And despite all that, that's my argument with my family.
More than anything, I want my state and my country to admit that my partner and I deserve equal rights under the banner of the law. We deserve to be able to visit one another in a hospital without hassles. We deserve to be able to interview for positions without the fear of discrimination based solely on our sexual preferences, just like any other couple.*** We deserve being able to get health coverage for one another through our jobs, just like any other couple.
Maybe it would simply be better if we did go to Switzerland's form of the argument. Take marriage out of legal vocabulary. EVERYONE gets civil unions. That's it. You want a "marriage", something sanctified by your church? Take that part up with your church, and fight with them for that concept. If you want equal rights under the law, fight with your state and your country.
And a note to church leaders who might be reading this--though I doubt that's a likelihood. If you want to get involved in the debate, that's fine by me. But before you do, check your tax-exempt status with the IRS, and start paying taxes like me. You can preach all you want about "saving marriage" then, and be a taxpaying person doing it. Otherwise, keep it to yourself or your after-service coffee & donught hour. Leave my bedroom out of this...I don't come to your church and tell you who you can't sleep with. Don't come to my state and tell me who I can't sleep with.
(I'm a bit bitter today. It's been a rough week.)
***As a total aside...while typing that line, I immediately went to the gutter. If you aren't mad about nondiscrimination policies, consider this. A guy who likes it when his girlfriend uses toys on him doesn't get discriminated against for that, but in some work environments, you can be discriminated against for being a boy who likes boys or a girl who likes girls. Glorious, ain't it?
Please understand, before I get started and before you send angry emails to me or to Les Bian, I'm a full advocate of equal rights. It won't be equal until it's 100% equal, as far as I'm concerned. But we're arguing over a term that may not be of interest to any of us, if we really understood it.
Let's say, for the poor sake of argument, we wish to fight for marriage equal to that indicated in Scripture. I don't think any of us who want marriage rights for the LGBT community really want that for ourselves. And if we do, our partners may disagree with the option on other grounds! Let's start at the very beginning, because if Julie Andrews taught good gay boys and lesbian girls anything, the beginning is a very good place to start!
Adam and Eve. The only reason they ended up together is because otherwise Adam would've resorted to beastiality. I somehow doubt that'll fly for most of the LGBT community.
Abram (Abraham) and Sarai (Sarah). Okay. That'd be all right, if we totally ignore how Abraham had sex with Sarai's servant girl in order to have an heir. By the way, that's what eventually led to the split between the Israelites and the much-later followers of Islam. Do we really want that in our mix? I'm thinking no.
Samson and Delilah. Okay. Bad example from the outset. She tricks him so she can cut off his masculinity...in the form of his hair. This one's self-explanatory. (Men everywhere just crossed their legs while considering this one.)
Joseph and Mary. I'd probably go for this, but we might want to be a little cautious. According to Catholic lore, Joseph got no nookie. Ever. I'm guessing that won't go over well. (I don't even think heterosexuals would go for that option.)
The Wedding at Cana. Really great party. We know nothing of the marriage that followed. NEXT.
We can't even mention Jesus. According to traditional understanding, Jesus was a loner. Now, there are a few theologians who argued differently...some even positing that Jesus may have been gay. Hence the whole thing about John being a "beloved disciple". Still, that's no concrete example of what marriage is or should be.
If we are to look to Scripture as a guide--and I'm speaking to the men for a moment, here--there's the whole Joshua and David thing. Vaguely, I recall something being mentioned about "closer than a brother." Looking at linguistics, "brother" was often considered WAY more than what we mean now. In addition the option of sharing parents, the term would equally equate the closest male companion of a male (or, in fewer cases, a female). In some cultures, "brother" or "sister" even referred to one's spouse.
So maybe we decide Scripture's not the best source. That's okay, too. Let's go to history and see how marriage looked.
Marriage as a contract. Purely a legal term, we want only to be able to take our partner's property, and be able to have control over their rights. Generally, this aligns pretty closely with what we seem to be arguing for with "civil unions." The only problem with this idea is that is has nothing to do with love or a recognition of commitment. It's purely a legal concept and could be annulled.
Marriage as a relationship. Add to the contract concept that we are a committed couple. Okay, that works. Except that even with marriage identified as a "special relationship", it doesn't say anything about the historical or traditional concepts of marriage. When marriage was seen as a special relationship, men often had additional women for sexual gratification. While this appeals to some, I'm guessing there will be people in an uproar over that.
We can also add to this the ideas of polygamy (or rarer cases of polygyny). That throws a big kink into our hose of marriage. Personally, that doesn't appeal to me--but if it works for other people...I guess they have their own battle to fight.
History shows that Marriage as a sacramental union didn't really happen until sometime between the 11th and 13th Centuries. The argument is over a term that wasn't in existence a LOT longer than it HAS been in exsitence. (You know, if you consider a few hundred thousand years a "long time", that is.)
Let's understand where we are now:
- Marriage is a person-to-person thing...not like it was when it originated as a family-to-family contract.
- States can choose to acknolwedge any contract they so choose.
- The church only acts as an agent of the state in the matter of marriage. They serve merely as a witness.
- We're arguing over a church-based understanding of a term, not a legal understanding.
As a spiritual/religious person, yeah. I do. I want to be able to look at my partner, know he's mine in both my eyes and God's. That's a personal understanding, between me, my partner, and God.
I want my church to recognize our relationship as special, as blessed, and as fully committed. But that's my argument with my church. Not the state.
I want my family to recognize us as a unit, one pair that is always a pair, not simply two seperate entities who get sexual release from one another. (Though somehow, I kind of doubt my family even wants to think about me having sex. Period. Male or female doesn't matter here. I'm pretty sure they think I'm still chaste, despite having been partnered nearly a year!) And despite all that, that's my argument with my family.
More than anything, I want my state and my country to admit that my partner and I deserve equal rights under the banner of the law. We deserve to be able to visit one another in a hospital without hassles. We deserve to be able to interview for positions without the fear of discrimination based solely on our sexual preferences, just like any other couple.*** We deserve being able to get health coverage for one another through our jobs, just like any other couple.
Maybe it would simply be better if we did go to Switzerland's form of the argument. Take marriage out of legal vocabulary. EVERYONE gets civil unions. That's it. You want a "marriage", something sanctified by your church? Take that part up with your church, and fight with them for that concept. If you want equal rights under the law, fight with your state and your country.
And a note to church leaders who might be reading this--though I doubt that's a likelihood. If you want to get involved in the debate, that's fine by me. But before you do, check your tax-exempt status with the IRS, and start paying taxes like me. You can preach all you want about "saving marriage" then, and be a taxpaying person doing it. Otherwise, keep it to yourself or your after-service coffee & donught hour. Leave my bedroom out of this...I don't come to your church and tell you who you can't sleep with. Don't come to my state and tell me who I can't sleep with.
(I'm a bit bitter today. It's been a rough week.)
***As a total aside...while typing that line, I immediately went to the gutter. If you aren't mad about nondiscrimination policies, consider this. A guy who likes it when his girlfriend uses toys on him doesn't get discriminated against for that, but in some work environments, you can be discriminated against for being a boy who likes boys or a girl who likes girls. Glorious, ain't it?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Straight Talk from the Angry Dyke
If I never hear the words, “If only we as a community would stop/start (insert whatever gay activity is deemed inappropriate at the moment or whatever heteronormative fad is pressing) the straight community would take us seriously,” it will be too soon. As silly as it is, “We’re here. We’re queer. Get used to it,” is far more empowering and a MUCH better message to send.
I’m going to put it bluntly gang, we need to respect ourselves. We bitch and piss and moan about how everyone looks down on us and thinks we’re degenerates and treats us as second class citizens. And do you know why? Because a large number of us believe that’s how we deserve to be treated.
Now don’t go sending me piles of angry emails about how we deserve the same rights as straight folk and we’re being underrepresented and unrecognized … yes, you’re right, we absolutely are. Yes, we need to fight for our rights and organize and work together. Don’t think for a moment I’m disputing that.
My point is we have to start presenting a public face that says, “Yes, I’m gay and I’m fine with it. In fact, I’m proud of who I am. I’m a relevant, righteous and respected member of my community and if you have a problem with me, well that’s YOUR problem.” People respect people who respect themselves.
I’m not saying we have it easy. No one denies we’ve had hate and discontent shoved down our throats throughout the ages. And that’s not going to change. What can change is how we react to it.
All too often, rather than argue and fight back against those who slander and malign us we just whimper about how badly we’re treated. Cut that garbage out right this instant.
Stop asking for respect. Expect it. Stop begging for tolerance. Demand it. Stop hoping we’re going to gain equality and rights. Fight for what is rightfully yours to begin with.
All of this starts with self-respect. Love you for who you are and MOST of the rest of the world will follow.
I’m going to put it bluntly gang, we need to respect ourselves. We bitch and piss and moan about how everyone looks down on us and thinks we’re degenerates and treats us as second class citizens. And do you know why? Because a large number of us believe that’s how we deserve to be treated.
Now don’t go sending me piles of angry emails about how we deserve the same rights as straight folk and we’re being underrepresented and unrecognized … yes, you’re right, we absolutely are. Yes, we need to fight for our rights and organize and work together. Don’t think for a moment I’m disputing that.
My point is we have to start presenting a public face that says, “Yes, I’m gay and I’m fine with it. In fact, I’m proud of who I am. I’m a relevant, righteous and respected member of my community and if you have a problem with me, well that’s YOUR problem.” People respect people who respect themselves.
I’m not saying we have it easy. No one denies we’ve had hate and discontent shoved down our throats throughout the ages. And that’s not going to change. What can change is how we react to it.
All too often, rather than argue and fight back against those who slander and malign us we just whimper about how badly we’re treated. Cut that garbage out right this instant.
Stop asking for respect. Expect it. Stop begging for tolerance. Demand it. Stop hoping we’re going to gain equality and rights. Fight for what is rightfully yours to begin with.
All of this starts with self-respect. Love you for who you are and MOST of the rest of the world will follow.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Movie night at GLO February 6
THIS FRIDAY, February 6, the GLO Center is hosting a movie night. Doors open at 6p.m. and movie starts at 7p.m. The event is free, but a donation of $1 is appreciated for the popcorn. The money goes to a good cause.
Your GLO Center provides free counseling, HIV/AIDS support groups, church services, youth groups and organizes our Pride in June. We are a very fortunate community in that we actually own the Community Center.
But we can't have a Community Center without you. GLO needs both financial and volunteer support. Contact Rebecca Clark for more information: forsweetrebecca@yahoo.com.
In the meantime, come out and see a flick. GLO is located at 518 E. Commercial St., next to Askinose Chocolate.
Your GLO Center provides free counseling, HIV/AIDS support groups, church services, youth groups and organizes our Pride in June. We are a very fortunate community in that we actually own the Community Center.
But we can't have a Community Center without you. GLO needs both financial and volunteer support. Contact Rebecca Clark for more information: forsweetrebecca@yahoo.com.
In the meantime, come out and see a flick. GLO is located at 518 E. Commercial St., next to Askinose Chocolate.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Flirtatious voting and other oddities
Women hit on me in restrooms. Sure, the first few times it happened it freaked me out. Then it just became one of those things that happened with frightening regularity.
Not long after I first came out, a very drunk, straight woman tried to make out with me in the loo at Martha’s. She wrapped her arms around me, declared my beauty and was just about to kiss me when I saw this sheepish looking guy standing in the doorway. She whipped around to see what I was looking at.
“Oh, him? He’s just my husband.”
Yeah. That was awkward.
Upon reflection, I realize that I never get hit on in a normal fashion. Women flirt with me at work (again in the can), at the dry cleaners, and there was even that memorable gal who chatted me up over tomatillos at the grocery. I’m not the kind of girl who gets play just hanging out at the bar or some place one would typically go to meet someone.
Today, I got hit on at my polling place. I went to do my civic duty, vote on the sales tax and try to pick one of the mayoral candidates that wasn’t crazy … not sure I was successful, but let’s hope I picked the lesser of numerous evils.
I digress.
As I was leaving, I made my way across the parking lot and there was a large pile of snow between me and my car. I had my boots on, so I commenced scaling.
Then I heard this sultry voice behind me, “You think that snow is hard enough to hold us up?”
I turned to see a tall, dark-haired woman in workout gear. She flashed me a large smile and gave me the once over. Ugh.
And of course this has gotten worse since I got in a relationship. What is it about unavailability that makes one more attractive? Further, I wasn’t even looking all that attractive. I’d had a full day at the office, was disheveled and was dressed in what can only be describe as early tree (lots of brown).
She was giving me this weird look like she half-expected I was going to help her over the berm of snow in some chivalrous gesture.
Yeah, right. She was far taller and in far better shape than I. Given we were at a school and her workout gear, I kind of wondered if she was the P.E. teacher. Because stereotypes are funny because they’re based in fact. Sigh.
Not long after I first came out, a very drunk, straight woman tried to make out with me in the loo at Martha’s. She wrapped her arms around me, declared my beauty and was just about to kiss me when I saw this sheepish looking guy standing in the doorway. She whipped around to see what I was looking at.
“Oh, him? He’s just my husband.”
Yeah. That was awkward.
Upon reflection, I realize that I never get hit on in a normal fashion. Women flirt with me at work (again in the can), at the dry cleaners, and there was even that memorable gal who chatted me up over tomatillos at the grocery. I’m not the kind of girl who gets play just hanging out at the bar or some place one would typically go to meet someone.
Today, I got hit on at my polling place. I went to do my civic duty, vote on the sales tax and try to pick one of the mayoral candidates that wasn’t crazy … not sure I was successful, but let’s hope I picked the lesser of numerous evils.
I digress.
As I was leaving, I made my way across the parking lot and there was a large pile of snow between me and my car. I had my boots on, so I commenced scaling.
Then I heard this sultry voice behind me, “You think that snow is hard enough to hold us up?”
I turned to see a tall, dark-haired woman in workout gear. She flashed me a large smile and gave me the once over. Ugh.
And of course this has gotten worse since I got in a relationship. What is it about unavailability that makes one more attractive? Further, I wasn’t even looking all that attractive. I’d had a full day at the office, was disheveled and was dressed in what can only be describe as early tree (lots of brown).
She was giving me this weird look like she half-expected I was going to help her over the berm of snow in some chivalrous gesture.
Yeah, right. She was far taller and in far better shape than I. Given we were at a school and her workout gear, I kind of wondered if she was the P.E. teacher. Because stereotypes are funny because they’re based in fact. Sigh.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Mac Girl Goes PC, Hell Freezes Over, Girlfriend Annoyed
GF: Really? You're going to blog about your new computer?
Me: What?
GF: Nothing in your world can be validated unless you blog about it, huh?
So yes, it's true. My beloved Mac iBook kind of bit the dust. So I bought one those mini-laptop thingies.
Shh ... I secretly like it. The Minibook weighs like three pounds and is the size of a hardback book. It's wireless and I can carry it anywhere ... which might prove to be quite interesting.
Especially since it's so small the cats think it's their blogging device. I left the machine unattended for five minutes only to come back to find Captain poised in front of it.
Captain: YOOOOWWWWWLLLL.
Me: But it's my computer.
Captain: ROOOOWWWLLLL! FFFT.
Ok, so maybe I'll be adding Disgruntled Pussy posts here as well.
Me: What?
GF: Nothing in your world can be validated unless you blog about it, huh?
So yes, it's true. My beloved Mac iBook kind of bit the dust. So I bought one those mini-laptop thingies.
Shh ... I secretly like it. The Minibook weighs like three pounds and is the size of a hardback book. It's wireless and I can carry it anywhere ... which might prove to be quite interesting.
Especially since it's so small the cats think it's their blogging device. I left the machine unattended for five minutes only to come back to find Captain poised in front of it.
Captain: YOOOOWWWWWLLLL.
Me: But it's my computer.
Captain: ROOOOWWWLLLL! FFFT.
Ok, so maybe I'll be adding Disgruntled Pussy posts here as well.
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