Posted tagged ‘gay’

Strange

November 24, 2009

I embrace routine.  I realize that makes me sound like quite a bore… (I think you would actually find me quite charming and rather animated) but I really do function better on a schedule.

This morning, my schedule went to hell in a handbasket.  My day has been topsy-turvy since then.

Late yesterday afternoon, I found out that I needed to be at a doctor appointment at 7:15 a.m. on the other side of town from where Monkito and I dwell.  Any time before 8 a.m. seems ungodly to me.  But whatever.  So, before I even had any coffee this morning, the ultrasound tech was waving a wand up my … ahem… checking for aliens and making sure we can start the drug cycle.

No aliens!  No cysts!  Go drugs!

At 8 a.m., I sat in the parking lot of Starbucks, yammering at my best friend.  Then, I got the privilege of sipping a grande, non-fat latte and munching on a berry coffee cake outside in the breezy South Florida morning.  Hey, I never claimed not to live a good life.

After that… well, I snuck in a nap.  A glorious, bed-all-to-myself, snuggle-down-into-the-covers nap.

Then off to a noon AA meeting.  A homophobic, noon AA meeting.  No, don’t read it again… you read it right the first time.

One man referred to Wilton Manors (the gay section of Ft. Lauderdale) as a “disease.”  Another man blatently called someone a faggot.

AWKWARD.  I mean, what is one to do in that situation?  Hell if I know.  I just mentally checked off that meeting as one I don’t need to frequent (you know, cuz they don’t like my kind).

I shook off the homophobia and hopped over to the grocery to buy some food to donate to Metropolitan Ministries for Thanksgiving.  Definitely the highlight of my day.  I get such a strong feeling of goodwill… and of hope… from being at Metropolitan Ministries over the holidays.  I am looking forward to my volunteer stint there over winter break.

And, to round out my slightly bizzare-o day… my sponsee who I have not heard from in 5 days called me tonight.  She left a message.  I am not sure what is up with that little cat… but I am awfully glad she is alive.  True story.

See, topsy turvy.  Can’t wait to see how the rest of the holiday week unfolds!

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Swagger

November 12, 2009

Today’s grading spot:  Starbucks in the library.  Excellent people watching.

Take for instance, the little dyke that swaggered by today.  All of 19 years old, she had more attitude than her little frame could contain.  Androgynous and cute as hell with the sides of her head shaved, impeccably dressed… and she knew it. Her smile belied any effort to be tough… but damn if she wasn’t trying.  Adorable.

I shook my head and went back to grading.

She is just lucky I am not 19 anymore… that’s all I am saying.

Saturday Goofiness

November 8, 2009

Holy Saturday!

Attended a 9 a.m. yoga class, during which the instructor seemed to think it possible for me to balance on my hands for extended periods of time.  That, by the way, is not currently possible.  Much balancing on one foot, and twisting my body like a pretzel, though… yep, and all before 10 a.m.

Later, Monkito and I went to our local health food store (boy, I am sounding really granola right now), and they were giving away free apples!  Apples!  My favorite fruit.  I picked green … you know, to spice things up.  I am usually a loyal Gala apple eater.  I did, however, have a lot of problems removing the “5 Fruits and Veggies Daily!” sticker from my apple before I ate it.  I endured much mocking from Monkito, who–of course–didn’t have a sticker on her apple…

As we were cruising toward the afternoon showing of Where the Wild Things Are, Monkito took off her hat and began running her fingers through her hair.  “Pea, there is something in my hair…”  Yep, that’s right.  The sticker from her apple, stuck right in her bangs.  Sweet.

And finally, for your enjoyment, two gems from the GLBT AA meeting this evening:

I once got kicked out of Barnes & Noble for putting all of the Bibles in the fiction section.

AND…

My boyfriend left me for Jesus.

Got to love those gay boys…

Honesty Policy

September 10, 2009

As I was doing Very Important Things on the computer the other day (like checking Facebook or obsessing over my blog stats–hello all 4 readers! So glad to have you!), I saw a new email land in my inbox.  I always check my email eagerly, as if I am expecting something… and this time it was an invitation to chat.  In person.  With Joe.

Now I was really intrigued.  Joe and I attended the same college.  He knew some of the same cats I did.  We have reminisced about fraternity parties and enjoyed bantering about college football.  But Joe is also the pastor at a church I formerly attended. So, the question became… what did Joe want to discuss?

Now, I am open to theological discussion.  And I am apt to speak my mind about why I left the church (the United Methodist Convention decided it was okay to turn away folks because they were gay… I have written about it here before).  But for some reason I felt hedged in by his desire for a face to face talk.  Because I had never discussed my departure from the church with him in person–and, hey, let’s be honest:  I am much more comfortable talking about college football.

I agreed to meet him, as much out of curiosity as anything else.  I think I was expecting some sort of ideological battle of wills.  Or maybe I was imagining a scenario in which he chided me for walking away when I should be leading reform.  At any rate, I was tense about the meeting.

Joe, true to form, plops down in the chair at Starbucks and takes off bantering.  About football.  About Glee (what a fun show!  Watch it.  No, really).  About his kids.  And then…

He begins to talk about the tension in the Methodist church over gays and lesbians.  He, in a rather confessionary tone, admits that he was once a telemarketer for the Republican party.  So, he came into the debate from a relatively conservative point of view.  He always felt that the church had more important things to worry about than homosexuality… but he understood people’s position that it was forbidden in the Bible, and, therefore, the church could not condone it.  He identified his position as one of neutrality… the issue seemed abstract and theological in nature.

Until he met me.  And saw how the church’s teachings have hurt real people that are seeking God.  I was the first gay friend he had.  And I made the “gay issue” more than an abstract debate.  Now it was about how the church, his church, treated his friend who simply wanted a place to worship God, a place to belong without condition. And, ultimately, this led him to began to sift out the Gospel from the cultural baggage that has been loaded onto it, baggage which must be stripped away if the Gospel is to retain its true purpose:  to reconcile God and humankind (these are his ideas–which I whole-heartedly support).

So, it turns out that I have changed the way he views how the Church approaches the issue of homosexuality.  And he is now willing and ready to fight for change from within the Church.  Because I was willing simply to be honest about who I am.

Overwhelmed

August 31, 2009

Once again, I seriously underestimated the impact of outside events—events completely beyond my control—on my psyche.

Last week, the sinking feeling of disappointment started pushing its way in when I almost lost my shit when a student acted disinterested in class.  Uh.  Yeah, they are 18.  Acting uninterested is their job.  So, I began to realize that I was PMSing.

This PMS, in and of itself, would not be heart-breaking.  Except that we are trying to get pregnant.  So, in fact, PMS takes on a new dimension of ugly when it also means that you are not at all closer to bringing a child that you want into the world.

When my buddy JD asked me, at dinner with all of our groovy grad school friends, if I was visualizing becoming pregnant, I almost burst into tears.  Because I knew, even if I couldn’t admit it out loud, that I was not pregnant.

Friday morning, five minutes before my first class of the day was about to begin, I discovered I was bleeding.  This timing was a blessing and a curse… I couldn’t cry and get all worked up about my disappointment, because I had to lead my favorite 18 year olds in a class discussion.  But that also meant that I didn’t really deal with how much it hurt that I was still not pregnant.

And then Saturday arrived… Toddler Birthday Party Day.  Monkito and I had two birthday parties to attend.  Both of the strapping young lads were turning one.  You see where this is going, don’t you?  Good.  Yeah, I did not see where it was going.  I did not admit, even for a minute in the recesses of my mind, that it would shred my soul to see all of the young parents (younger than Monkito and I, for the most part), with their babies, laughing and talking about how many children they would like to have.

What. The. Fuck.  Do you know how many I want?  One.  I want one.  I want one now, goddamn it.

And suddenly it hit me, full force, that I don’t have a child.  That I am not pregnant.  That I have no control over when or how soon I get pregnant.  And I was overwhelmed by the helplessness and the sadness that accompanies such a revelation.

I am still a bit overwhelmed.

Checking In

May 19, 2009

When I worked for the Department of Education, I used to get to travel on occasion.  Not that I was a jet-setter, by any means.  I never even got to stray from Florida.  But I did get to stay overnight in hotels throughout the state.  Walking into a hotel room, seeing everything just so… knowing that the room was mine for the evening…the rooms always held such promise.  Being there meant that I could do whatever I wanted for the evening.  I didn’t have to answer to anyone or meet anyone’s expectations.  I could simply be alone.

My hunger to be alone should have alerted me to the fact that something might not be right at home.  I still need time alone now… but I am free to take that time whenever I choose.  I don’t have to make up excuses or justifications for my desire for solitude.  But I did then.  So, when I went out of town, I would sort of hide out in my hotel room.  Even if I visited a city where I had friends to party with, I most often stayed in my hotel room, took a bath and read a book.

None of this would be  relevant at all, if my desire for solitude hadn’t been a harbinger of the impending cataclysmic breakup.  I was slowly smothering.  So was she, I guess.  Because shortly after the hotel-hideout stage, I was kicking in the door to a bedroom my girlfriend had locked me out of… and that stellar showing soon devolved into a 6 month blackout that is still a gaping hole in my memory.

I spent years after we broke up resenting the hell out of her for leaving me.  But what I really resented was the fact that I didn’t leave first, even though I wasn’t happy.  Now I just look back on the whole fucked up mess and wonder why I didn’t know myself well enough to see that something had to change.  The memory serves as a reminder that I need to check in to my reality every day, not just embrace the path of least resistence.

Don’t Judge Me

May 15, 2009

Yesterday, I posted this status update on facebook:  I roll my eyes at people’s angst about gay marriage. The family unit isn’t going to fall apart because the state recognizes a wider array of families.

I didn’t have a lot of deep, philosophical thoughts about the issue.  My gut just tells me that our children, when they are adults, are going to be mortified that our generation even had to conduct this debate.

A facebook “friend” decided to quote scripture at me, in response: It is not angst… its just the understanding that when our definition of marriage differs from that of God’s, we are headed down a road we really dont want to go. “The state” is still in need of God’s blessings. Romans 1:18-32

I read this and rolled my eyes.  The guy who wrote this knew me in high school.  He was normal enough.  Apparently, he has been “saved.”  Now, he is a religious nut job.  He has already tried to express to me that acknowledging Jesus Christ as my savior is the road to my salvation.  If you are scratching your head, thinking, “wait… isn’t she a Christian anyway?,” the answer is yes.  Apparently, my refusal to use my Bible as a weapon has him all confused.

Then, I made the mistake of looking up the verse he quoted at me.  Ready?  Here are the highlights:

18The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth by their wickedness. . . .21For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. . . .24Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. 25They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.

26Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones. 27In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion.

28Furthermore, since they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, he gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what ought not to be done. . . . Although they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them.

That BASTARD.  How dare he judge me like that?  Who the hell gives him the right to question my relationship with God?  Oh, wait… that’s right… this is precisely why people dislike Christians.  They use their religion to scorn others, to wound them into submission. Clearly, a religion that was founded on love, mercy and grace has been tainted by the self-righteous legalism of its followers.

Bastard.  Good thing God loves him, because I think he’s an asshole.