2009

It’s nearing the end of the first decade of this millenium, and what better time now than to reflect on this year (and possibly years gone by).

I started this blog back in July. It was an opportunity to say and vent the feelings, perceptions and stories that I felt I couldn’t share anywhere else. However, London Girl has become a lot more than that.

You see, I thought I would just write and that would be it. I didn’t actually think I would learn from myself, or that I would revisit my old ramblings and gain insight. Yet I have. I’ve actually documented something quite special and powerful here – and at the time I didn’t even realise it.

This however, has been a long time coming. Let’s rewind a few years. 2004/5 – that’s a good year.

I was about fourteen/fifteen, and I became aware that I had feelings for my best friend of the time. She is straight – and I was ashamed. I’d always harboured feelings, and inclinations about my gayness, but I was never, ever comfortable about it. I was always worried and scared – scared that I would be outcasted, that my life would reach a new hell, one far worse than the one I was living in. More importantly, I was scared that one day I would pluck up the courage to do something about this crush I had.

It was at that point where I made a crucial decision – one which it wasn’t until this year that I have been able to begin to reverse. I would cease all communication with this friend. It was easier to not speak to her, and pretend that I hate her, that to maintain such a close friendship whilst not being able to be with her. Thus, for four years I didn’t speak to her.

Following our weird break-up, I maintained my “hetero” appearance. Well, I was crap at it… But I would hesitate and act out dislike when other female friends insisted on groping my arse or boobs (apparently they are gropable!) – in order to portray this fake image of myself. I wouldn’t get drunk in case I revealed something I didn’t want to be let-loose, and I lied to my friends and family.

Then comes 2009. Many have claimed that this year has been terrible; things have happened, or it’s not been as exciting as previous years – and coupled with the economic crisis which currently looms over us, things don’t seem to be improving that much. I would have to disagree though.

This year for me has been a year of great and enourmous change. I started off the year (posting on my public blog) about how I am shrouded in secrecy, and how I never, ever feel at ease. Everything I say and do is just a facade; and I can’t write openly, I can’t express myself because I feel so bottled up. It was a horrible feeling – one which I never want to have to return to. I wasn’t myself – I was a reflection of a distorted image. It was dangerous.

Then I came out. It was a rather slow, and in some ways – painful – experience. It wasn’t painful because anything bad happened as a consequence, but it was painful in that for the first time I felt internally happy. It was painful because I had to break down all of those wall and barriers which for so long harboured my true self – the one that for many years I couldn’t come to accept or admit.

I am however, extremely lucky to know the people I do. They’re a great bunch – and yes I do moan about them – but if it wasn’t for my friends, I don’t honestly think I would be in the position that I am now. Okay, I’m still hopelessly single; but they’ve given me the strength, understanding and freedom to be who I wanted to be. In the past I surrounded myself with the wrong sort. Y’know who I mean – the opinionated, the close-minded, and non-obliging people of the world. Thoroughly heterosexual, and more often than not – right-wing. They were good friends to me, but they weren’t supportive, nor were they open-minded. They couldn’t see past there own view or take on the world – and that only made things worse for me.

I now feel comfortable to be who I am. To be the person who I think as far back as I can remember, I always knew I was. I don’t feel ashamed any more.

Yet, I’ve gained all of this in just eight or nine months.

That is why 2009 has been a good year. Okay, my Summer was all-in-all, rubbish. My AS grades weren’t particularly wonderful either; and things aren’t exactly brilliant with home-life either… But for once I want to celebrate the positives of a year, instead of harnessing on all of the bad.

This year has been so life-changing. I’ve met knew people, I’ve found support, I’ve opened my mind. Even this time last year, if I were to count all of the people who I fancied or liked, it wouldn’t extend beyond five. Now that I am accepting, and more open… Well that number has greatly increased.

I know I still have some way to go. I need to overcome my mind, and I need to embrace who I want – or at least embark on a stronger mission to find someone I can call my own. But I’ve paved the foundations to make this possible. I’m out of the closet, I’m free, and I’m happy. But also, I can see the beauty in life and in people more readily than I previously had done.

So to everyone out there, I wish you a Happy New Year. I hope that this past year has been good for you too, and I wish that you too can focus on the positives that make all of our lives worthwhile. I hope that whatever problems, issues and personal missions you face, that you can overcome them, and learn to accept that our indivuality is the essence of mankind. Embrace who and what you are, and fear not being that person.

I would love to hear your stories of 2009, and so I’ve set up an anonymous posting form. Just type whatever you want in the box (absolutely anything), and all replies (unless you’ve elected otherwise) will be posted on a new page called FormSpring. Please post whatever you want here; it’s completely anonymous – think of it as telling a secret to a stranger!

x

[Via http://londongirlblog.wordpress.com]

The Bigger Picture

So several hundred years ago Europeans decided to spread Christianity to subsaharan Africa and now the fruits of their labor and being born by gays through out the continent. A lot of newsprint has been spent on the upcoming Ugandan “kill teh gays” bill and how we and other developed countries should cut off aid due to that. Yet it’s also worth noting that a large swath of the Middle East already executes homosexuals and that doesn’t stop us from giving them huge amounts of cash.

If pictures are worth a thousand words then this map, from World Focus, should be worth at least a few brief news articles. Yet I doubt you’ll be seeing anyone pointing out that all the outrage focused on Uganda recently could just as easily be aimed at Saudi Arabia or Afghanistan or Somalia or Pakistan – all of whom receive foreign aid.

Cross-posted at Can’t Win For Losing

[Via http://queermerced.com]

One More Time....For 2009

It’s the last installment of the hottest, gay, 18+ dance party in the valley for 2009 this Wednesday. Come out and start celebrating the new decade early and enjoy a packed dancefloor, drink specials and that awesome vibe that you can only get at Integration. This week we’ll also have some guest DJ’s in the house as I (DJ Binx) will be celebrating my birthday with all of you.

Come early to avoid the line. See you there!

[Via http://queerfresno.com]

Archbishop of York attacks Uganda's anti-gay bill

From http://seattletimes.nwsource.com:

A top Anglican cleric who was born in Uganda spoke out Thursday against a proposed law in his native country that would impose the death penalty on some gays.

Archbishop of York John Sentamu – who along with the archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, is one of the global fellowship’s most senior priests – condemned the anti-gay law now being considered by the East African nation’s parliament.

“I’m opposed to the death sentence. I’m also not happy when you describe people in the kind of language you find in this … bill,” he told BBC radio.

Although Sentamu seemed to suggest he was the first to attack the proposed law, Williams has also spoken out against it, telling The Daily Telegraph earlier this month that it was “shocking in its severity.”

“Apart from invoking the death penalty, it makes pastoral care impossible – it seeks to turn pastors into informers,” he told the paper in an interview published Dec. 12.

The issue of homosexuality has triggered a debate that has divided the global 77 million-strong Anglican fellowship, including in the United States, where it has splintered the Episcopal Church.

In Thursday’s interview, Sentamu chose his words carefully, restating the content of a 2004 Anglican statement that condemned “the victimization or diminishment of human beings whose affections happen to be ordered towards people of the same sex.”

African churches have been at the forefront of the Anglican backlash against the blessings given to gay marriages and the ordination of gay bishops in the West. Uganda, whose population is nearly 40 percent Anglican, has become a rallying point for conservatives, with some U.S. Episcopal denominations switching their allegiance to the Church of Uganda following the 2003 ordination of openly gay bishop, V. Gene Robinson.

Sentamu said he and Williams had been in touch with his Anglican colleagues in Africa about the proposed law, which has aroused a storm of indignation worldwide. It is expected to go before parliament in the new year.

The bill would mandate a death sentence for sexually active gays living with HIV or in cases of same-sex rape. Anyone convicted of a homosexual act would face life imprisonment.

Uganda’s President Yoweri Museveni will not try to block the bill, his spokesman Tamale Mirundi said Thursday, although he did say the president would attempt to convince his National Resistance Movement Party, which has a majority in parliament, to not support it.

“President Museveni cannot block the anti-gays bill,” Mirundi said, saying that if he did so “he will have become a dictator.”

[Via http://nealbinnyc.wordpress.com]

Cab Ride in 300 Words

Jaden led me by the hand outside to get a cab. We both slid into the back seat. I told the driver the name of the hotel, never taking my eyes from beautiful Jaden. She leaned over to kiss my mouth. Her lip gloss tasted sweet on my tongue. Without a glace towards the cab driver in the front, Jaden got on her knees on the back seat, swinging her leg over to straddle me. Her breasts were right in my face. I could smell the aroma of her conditioner as she flipped her long auburn hair behind her shoulder. Her hands moved behind my neck. Without thinking I slid both of my hands behind her smooth thighs and up under her dress. She sat down, bringing my hands to her bare ass. Jaden was not wearing any panties.

My eyes moved from her gorgeous breasts, barely contained by the neckline of her dress, up to her eyes. There I saw a twinkle of mischief that was blinked into rolling pleasure by her eyelids as I slid my middle finger down the middle of her ass, hooking it neatly into her already wet pussy. Keeping quiet for the driver, Jaden’s tongue snuck out to caress her lips. My finger stroked her wetness all the way to her clit and dipped inside her in turn. She gasped audibly as the driver of the cab applied the brakes, causing my finger to enter her to the knuckle. I felt her contract once wetly around my digit, then she was sliding off of me and out of the cab door. We had arrived at the hotel.

[Via http://chelseaquestion.wordpress.com]

Surely you Jest

Caught me because the little girl guarding my heart fell asleep.

Sneaky you.

So attached. So soon?

Don’t play games with me.

I’ve heard it all before. Even said it a few times.

So soon?

I don’t want to believe you.

But I don’t have that nostalgic feeling of terrible things to come.

So it’s an opopanax that I welcome with an open heart. Or did I mean arms?

Atleast, when you stab me in those, it’ll heal quicker and less painfully.

According to you, it shouldn’t hurt at all.

“It won’t even sting,” you assure me.

Why?

Because the feeling’s mutual you say.

But, do you fabricate?

Only time will tell.

[Via http://teejayc.wordpress.com]

Expose

Some of the transgender who attack us seem to think the women here and elsewhere who oppose the transgender lie are engaging in some kind of old-school activism. They want to believe that we are forming some competing movement, or other such nonsense. They like to apply labels like HBS or Taliban, create a faux fight between two arbitrary sides, shout and demean, and basically engage in the sort of politicking that they believe to have been responsible for their “success” in the 90’s. Of course they are wrong.

I basically have two aims with regard to the transgender business. One, I want to provide an alternative viewpoint to the TG dogma that confronts new transitioners as they begin their healing process. The sooner they clear that toxic mess, the sooner they can get through the process. The voice of real women who have come before you telling you that your senses are right about the TG and to stay away from them is a huge help.

In addition to speeding the process in the initial stages of transition, and assuaging guilt for believing your own senses about the sexual fetishists, by exposing the truth I hope to rob the transgender of new recruits. Not recruits from women like us, because we generally know the score and leave of our own accord. But recruits from “gender” philosophy such as the genderqueer who want to use it to challenge society’s rules. If they can see who their so-called allies really are, they may think twice about their priorities and allegiances. The truth is very ugly.

The vast majority of the TG are simply heterosexual transvestite men. And transvestism is tied closely with other, possibly more troublesome sexual behavior. What sets the “full time” transvestite apart from the garden variety crossdresser is that the sexual fetish they both share is that, for whatever reason, in the “transgender” transvestite it gets out of control. The reasons behind this are a subject that needs to be studied if these people are going to be helped.

In a past post I wrote about how I hoped for more research into GID, but not because I believe in “gender problems”. Nobody has “gender problems” as such. People like Ron Gold wrote his famous post on this, and indeed everyone in larger society understands this instinctively. So do the transgenders, in fact, and that is why they twist philosophy and turn logic on its head. Gender itself is merely shorthand for a variety of social phenomena; it can hardly be disordered.

The first myth that must be exposed is that surgery creates a transsexual. There are plenty of transvestites who get surgery, and in fact they make up the bulk of the “transsexuals” among the TG. The goal of this sleight-of-hand is to a) excuse their behavior and b) provide a path for the transvestite to live “full time as a woman”. In other words, ready access to their drug of choice. Getting surgery is how the “transgender transvestite” actualizes their fetish and makes it permanent and inescapable. I have to thank an anonymous source for explaining this aspect of the rather puzzling motivations of the “transgender transsexual”. I’m sure more detailed discoveries will be found as researchers delve into the mysteries surrounding fetish and exhibitionism in neurology.

I also believe it will be found that GID, at is called by puzzled researchers, is an amalgam of other already recognized problems, with the veneer of gender laid over the top. It has been suggested to me that the sexual high that transvestites receive from exposing themselves to the public in women’s clothing is like an addiction. And like any addict, they rage and fume when their drug is taken away, hence their attacks on women like us. It is not because we expose them for being men in dresses that they hate us. They do that to themselves all the time- but on their schedule. They want the control of where and when to do the “Gotcha!” moment and bask in the sexual glow, and anyone who would stand in the way of that must be destroyed.

That is why they rage against those who tell the truth about them. That is why they threaten to write an “expose”, their tried-and-true weapon against us- the threat to ruin our lives by trying to “out” us to our communities and destroy our womanhood.

The fact that they are willing to commit this act which, in their own parlance, puts us at risk for violence and death, simply for continued access to their sexual thrill is despicable. It illustrates perfectly just how unbalanced and aggressive they really are. How selfish. How male.

I and the other women here are no stranger to male violence. Cat has written quite a bit about her experiences with these people. And every woman who ever lived has felt the impact of male aggression in their lives, some with horrifying directness. That is why I write these things and put myself at risk in the face of these all too real threats against me. I care about women like me, who have gone through so much just to survive. We few who know the truth must stand up to the men who would abuse us.

We must tell them they cannot, they will not, silence our voices.

[Via http://ariablue.wordpress.com]

The Ex-Factor and the Holidays, Lesbian-Style

     That first holiday after you leave that girlfriend of seven or eight years, the one you expected to spend the rest of your life with, is bittersweet. If you’re like me, you left her only after you were on the verge of killing her. And no one really wants to find out if all the prison movies about bad girls incarcerated is true. So you leave, to keep from becoming a murderer. But that doesn’t mean you won’t miss her and particularly at the holidays.

     Every couple does something good together, or you would never last out the first year. My ex-wife and I did the holidays well. For one month out of every year, we were truly the perfect couple that we longed to be the rest of the year. We wrapped gifts, hung stockings for the dogs, cat and each other. We decorated like crazy and we celebrated by eating delicious holiday food and by selecting really special gifts for each other, remembering all the sweetest little things that a lesser elf would have easily forgotten.

     This year I am with a new elf of my choosing. Thank God she also loves the holidays. We are starting new traditions. I pray that she will be the one I spend the rest of my life with, as we put up the tree and sit mesmerized in front of it together holding hands and listening to our four dogs snoring all around us. She could not be more different than my ex in most ways, but I am grateful that she shares my enthusiasm for all things Christmas.

     For me, the holidays are a wonderful time to spoil the people you love. I believe in fussing over everyone I care about. I’m not terribly religious, but I definitely believe that love drives my actions, and that’s all good. Plus, I can’t get enough of the lights and the music.

     I’m wondering what I should do for my ex-wife. Part of me gets a little misty when I remember the past eight years we spent together. I’ve thought about calling her, but don’t know what I’d say exactly. She was angry when I left. We’ve been civil, but not terribly friendly since the breakup. I guess I want her to know I love her and want her to be happy. I also want her to know that I will never forget all the wonderful holidays we spent together and how special they were. And even though we’ve moved on, we can always take comfort in the fact that we shared many wonderful holidays together.

[Via http://lesbianwink.wordpress.com]

Dear Writer's Block; Its Personal! So I Ramble

Serious case of writers block…

Aaaammmaazzinngg. I hate writers block

Words that I cant think of but words that lie on my brain.

Voice of Carrie Bradshaw “Try not to think about it.” you know? that shit sucks, cause when I don’t think about it, I REALLY don’t think about it and then I forget about it, then I forget the deadline, then when I remember the deadline it was yesterday. That damned writers block!

AAANNNND, Why can’t I be a lesbian columnists? Cause I don’t fall into that damned stereotype of wild nights partying at clubs in the city and fucking everything that moves! [nod, nod]

Okay. I’m just a boring dyke.

I don’t want to write “Adult” material anymore!!!! [stomp! Stomp! Folds arms and pouts] It’s sooo fucking redundant!

O, writers block, you’ve made it so hard for me. You’ve upset me and now I must rebel. [writing anyway]

[Via http://sabrinall.wordpress.com]

Labels are for cans. Not people

Butch, lipstick lesbian, dyke, soft butch, pillow princess, stud, bulldyke

Do you identify with any of these labels? Or do you dislike when others try to confine you with one of these labels or others?

Labels are for cans. Not people. Labels are so confining and restrictive. Sometimes I think that labels make it easy for others to misrepresent who you are or at least make themselves comfortable with who they are.

So, will I put myself in a box for someone to check off? Nope.

[Via http://shalamajackson.wordpress.com]

I had a secret

When I was almost 15 years old I became a Christian at Summer Madness, “Ireland’s largest Christian festival”. To give you some indication of what sort of religious experience this was- Andy Flan was singing Here I am to worship by Tim Hughes, I was standing with people I had never met, I’d lost my voice and I had my hands in the air. I was caught up, I knew everything. There was no doubt in my mind and I prayed the prayer…

Elsewhere at summer madness…. I was sharing a tent with my occasionally self loathing gay friend Christine and her then girlfriend.

Christine went on to dump the girlfriend (for ‘religious reasons’) at another Christian event the next February. At March mannafest that year 2 other friends decided to leave the church because they were gay.

I had a secret… When I had wee adolescent fantasies they were about girls… When I later started to read erotica online…. that was about girls too… and even later when I had a bit of a problem with porn… that was girls too.

I had a lot of trouble seeing how this little secret related to my real life. In real life I was meant to pretend to never to think about sex before I married a nice Christian boy and having nice Christian babies. In my secret life I would read lesbian erotica, think about girls I fancied and… well… ask God for forgiveness all the time and feel shit about myself.

I don’t know where I got the idea that being gay was wrong. I was surrounded by good influences… 2 of my primary school teachers were in a committed relationship and now an inspiring civil partnership, one of my ministers at that time was gay and a good friend from that time had just started going out with the love of his life and and although he was struggling with the church, he never thought that God didn’t love him.

I was deeply convicted of my ‘wrongness’ and that is a very uncomfortable place to be. It took a lot of undoing but I really believe that God loves me just as I am.

Read this…

xx

[Via http://feelingchilly.wordpress.com]

jaybird practices.

Tonight I can’t sleep, and tonight there is no poetry. I vowed that this evening I  wouldn’t hide behind those kinds of words. You are a bearing witness to my stumbling mumbling rehearsal… at opening up.

A girl, (there’s always a girl biting her lip, saying things like honey, and please?) she claims I hide behind my words instead of telling her how I actually feel. So, I’ve decided (did I mention the lip biting?) to practice here occasionally.

She, here she’ll be Citrine, she haunts my writing, playing hiding and seek in my metaphors. (Our past is a sad story some night I’ll tell you.)

Our biggest problem is that she likes to fall asleep with me. She will curl up on my shoulder and sigh sleep breaths, but I fidget and squirm. I think of the drive in my cold car back to my own bed.

Don’t think me to be insensitive, it’s just I prefer to sleep alone

but I love waking up with someone.  (Paradox rules my life.)

This is my ideal morning:

girl, morning sex, fall back asleep, pull on t tshirt and underwear, stumble to kitchen, coffee.

but this is my ideal night:

play guitar on my bed, scribble in my journal, read, sleep.

not

stare at ceiling, check cellphone clock every five minutes, get up to leave wake her up and she asks me to stay longer, repeat, freeze ass off in car, her hit every red light home, then immediately sleep because it’s so late.

If only I could have both.

Ok, so

now you know something about me.     (I’m selfish.)

[Via http://mayjaybird.wordpress.com]

Fistgate: Obama chief 'knew' of 'disgusting' sex subjects

This is OUTRAGIOUS!

 

Jennings was co-chairman of committee that set up statewide program

Posted: December 09, 2009

8:01 pm Eastern

By Bob Unruh

© 2009 WorldNetDaily

EDITOR’S NOTE: The following includes descriptions of adult themes and objectionable subject material.

Kevin Jennings at the 2000 conference

A pro-family organization is accusing President Obama’s Office of Safe Schools chief, Kevin Jennings, of knowing in advance the “gross and disgusting” subjects that would be covered at a seminar on sex for teenagers. 

There have been multiple reports about a Massachusetts school seminar 10 years ago sponsored by the group Jennings founded, the Gay, Lesbian, Straight Education Network, that included instructors providing explicit direction on homosexual activities, such as “fisting.” 

The subject has been raised as a direct challenge to Jennings’ fitness to hold office, and as WND has reported, several dozen members of Congress have signed a letter to President Obama demanding his dismissal. 

Now, Brian Camenker and Amy Contrada at Mass Resistance in Massachusetts have posted online audio recordings from the seminar, documenting discussions such as whether to “spit or swallow” during oral sex and how to accomplish “fisting.”Please cont reading story

 http://www.wnd.com/index.php?fa=PAGE.view&pageId=118484

[Via http://randysright.wordpress.com]

New Jersey Nears Vote on Letting Gays Marry

From: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/05/nyregion/05marriage.html

A petition in New Jersey signed by more than 2,300 Democratic officials, advocates and residents has helped sway members of the State Senate Judiciary Committee to call for a vote on a bill to legalizesame-sex marriage.But the bill has a long way to go, and recent votes against same-sex marriage in a Maine referendum and in the New York State Senate led opponents of the New Jersey measure to say that the political tide had turned against it.

Still, Senator Raymond J. Lesniak, a Democrat from Union County, said the petition, initiated by a small group of New Jersey Democrats, produced a strong “momentum change” for the bill after it had appeared to be stalled in recent weeks. Many prominent officials signed the petition, including Mayor Cory A. Booker of Newark; Ronald K. Chen, the state’s public advocate; and J. Frank Vespa-Papaleo, senior counsel to the New Jersey public advocate.

Mr. Lesniak is a member of the Judiciary Committee, which plans to vote on the bill on Monday. A large turnout for the vote is expected by those on both sides of the issue; gay couples are planning to testify about what they believe are shortcomings in the state’s civil union law, which was passed in 2006.

Mr. Lesniak predicted that the Judiciary Committee would pass the bill. The full Senate would probably consider the measure on Thursday, and Mr. Lesniak said the vote would be close. The Senate and the Assembly — where the bill is still in committee and no vote has been scheduled — are controlled by Democrats, but some do not support same-sex marriage, so Republican votes would be needed.

The timing is important because the current governor, Jon S. Corzine, a Democrat, supports same-sex marriage, while Christopher J. Christie, a Republican who will assume the office on Jan. 19, opposes it.

Assemblyman Reed Gusciora, a Democrat from Princeton who sponsored the bill in his chamber, said support had ebbed and flowed in recent weeks.

“Once people get over the election and what happened in New York,” he said, “I think it’s a matter of doing the right thing, and more members, as time progresses, will become less skittish.”

Senator Loretta Weinberg of Bergen County, Mr. Corzine’s running mate in the November election, said her colleagues should not fear for their jobs if they support the bill, which she sponsored.

“I understand some of our legislators have profound religious feelings about this, and I respect that,” she said. “I have less patience with those who somehow perceive there is a risk in voting for this. There is no risk.”

Mr. Gusciora said a same-sex marriage measure had a better chance of passing than it did in New York. “New York is two different states, New York City and upstate New York,” he said. “We’re still the progressive suburbs of Philadelphia and New York City. I believe we’re a more progressive state.”

Still, opponents are mobilizing to block the measure. The New Jersey Catholic Conference helped deliver about 156,000 signatures asking legislators to enforce the civil union law instead of approving same-sex marriage.

Len Deo, president of the New Jersey Family Policy Council, a research group, said his organization believed it would be wrong to change the definition of marriage to aid what it said was a tiny portion of the state’s population, based on the 8,340 people in civil unions out of a population of 8.6 million.

“In 31 of 31 states, with Maine being the most recent, people have decided that marriage should remain the union of one man and one woman,” Mr. Deo said.

Mr. Gusciora said some Republicans had said they would support the bill. And Mr. Lesniak said: “Those who are opposed to this are not hateful, but they give safe haven to people who are hateful. If we pass this law, those people who are bigots, who are homophobes, will no longer have that safe haven.”

This article has been revised to reflect the following correction:

Correction: December 8, 2009

An article on Saturday about the scheduling of a vote by the New Jersey Senate Judiciary Committee on a same-sex marriage bill after a petition campaign referred incompletely to the petition, using information from the bill’s advocates. Although it was eventually circulated by the Progressive Change Campaign Committee, a liberal advocacy group based in Washington, the effort was initiated by a small group of New Jersey Democrats. The article also gave an outdated title for J. Frank Vespa-Papaleo, one of the petition signers. He is now senior counsel to the New Jersey public advocate; he is no longer director of the state’s Division on Civil Rights.

[Via http://nealbinnyc.wordpress.com]

Lesbian Bishop for LA

The Espiscopol Diocese of Los Angeles has elected The Rev. Mary Glasspool, 55,  as an assistant Bishop on Saturday (Read Associated Press article). She is the second openly gay bishop to be elected by the US branch of the Anglican church. The appointment of the first, Bishop Gene Robinson, in 2003 caused divisions in the Church worldwide that have still not healed. This isn’t something I thought I’d hear myself saying, but hurrah for the US Episcopol Church. They are standing by their selection, in the face of criticism from Anglicans worldwide. In July, the Episcopal General Convention effectively lifted a moratorium on electing another gay bishop which had been asked for by Anglican leaders seeking to prevent a permanent break in the communion.

Her election must still be approved by the national church. Let’s hope the Episcopol Church keep their faith in her and their support for same sex couples. Many in the church, worldwide, are still struggling to accept female clergy, let alone a lesbian bishop. Surely, as the members of the Church who voted for her in LA seem to realise, in the name of reaching out to the wider community, someone like The Rev. Mary Glasspool is a perfect candidate. Surely she will draw people back to the Church who feel disconnected. I’m not religious myself but I know there are a lot of gay men and women who long for acceptance by the Church whose fundamental beliefs they share.

But religion and logic don’t often go together. I’m not arguing that faith should always be altered and adapted to fit everyone’s lifestyle. Clearly that’s not the point of religion. But if we’re all God’s creatures and Jesus forgives everything, why is there any controversy?

Yahoo News reports that polls show growing acceptance of queer people in the US. Yet at the same time there is growing religious consternation. The appointment of Bishop Gene Robinson led to the formation of a breakaway Anglican church – The Anglican Church in North America, who don’t approve of gay bishops. The Mormon Church, and others, still see homosexuality as a sin.  It seems that loving thy queer neighbour is all well and good, providing they know their place and don’t, say, become a bishop, or join the army. Or heaven forbid, want to marry.

And lest we should think that this happening in LA means that she stands a good chance of being accepted in her position, remember that it was in California that Proposition 8 was approved in 2008, effectively making illegal the marriages between many loving gay couples.

I suppose my question, really, is when will this not be a news story? When will people religious and otherwise just accept that we are not all the same? Chances are God, if he exists, loves us all.

[Via http://rebeccasb.wordpress.com]

Cheating

I hate for my first blog to be on this subject… but it’s relevant to our world right now.

If you have even come close to a news channel or website you would have seen alot about cheating lately.   Of course cheating is all over the news, radio, and internet.  A lot of celebs are cheating lately… Tiger Woods, Jude Law, and Eric Benet (and how could you cheat on Halle Berry??).  Even politicians are cheating all over that place.  But as we look at those who make the news, we have to look at the rest of society.

I was having a conversation with a good friend the other day, and she talked about how a friend of hers admits he doesn’t know a guy who hasn’t cheated.  That’s kind of scary for all you straight girls or gay guys out there.  However, society likes to pretend only guys cheat.  That’s definitely not true.  Women are just as guilty of cheating and probably just as often.  From my experience with girls I’ve dated, girls my girlfriend dated in the past, and girls other girls/guys I know have dated, there is just as much cheating in the female lifestyle.

So what makes people cheat?  I don’t claim to know the answer, but I have opinions.  Part of it is a lack of respect for the person you are with and your relationship.  If you must sleep or be with this other person, break your current relationship off.  I am sure your significant other will appreciate the honesty.  It also shows a lack of character.  You are hurting the person you claim to love and you promised to be faithful to.  That is such a lack of dishonesty on your part.  I can go on forever, but I don’t want this to turn into a rant.  I could really go on forever I feel so strongly about this subject.  I’ll end here, however, and let you leave your own comment.

[Via http://lovealwaysjill.wordpress.com]

Double the Tenderness

I have not been drawing much lately, so I’ve posted a favourite piece from my first blog series in 2006. This image was drawn from a photograph I found on a porn site that I thought was quite tender in spite of everything else it was surrounded by… like a little candle in the darkness, standing out from the rest with its cosy gentleness. 

I wanted to put it up today to honour my friends with same-sex partners… whether they call themselves “gay”, “queer”, “homosexual”, “lesbians”, or just plain old “lovers”… it doesn’t matter. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Personally, I’m not much for labels… people are all people and deserve to be treated as fully human…

The male body image photo project I’m working on has put me in contact with straight men, gay men, and even some transgendered men… and some men who dress as women. I went to a club in the gay village a couple of weeks ago to see one of our models for the EXPOSURE project dance on stage during a contest to chose a “Miss —” of the season for the club. I went with my good friend and artistic-partner in this project, another woman, and at first, we were the only females in the whole place. We sat close to the stage and watched the place literally fill up (on a Wednesday night!) before the show started, and the actual show, put on by lovely dressed-as-women-dancing men, was alot of fun to watch.

But I must admit that there was a sideshow that was equally fascinating, and both of us couldn’t keep our eyes off of it. From the moment we walked in until the time we left almost 2 hours later, there was a couple off to the side of the stage, a ways away against a wall, that were making out. Really making out. I don’t think I’ve ever really seen two men kissing before, and the passion and the tenderness they were putting into it was quite moving to see. And they didn’t stop! We both wondered why they would do this in public, if it was a thrill for them to be seen, or if they were completely oblivious to everyone and everything around them in the noisy bar. It was quite a show. They were sitting in front of a pinkish wall that was illuminated from behind, so they were silhouetted very clearly, and although the place was packed for the show, no one ever blocked the view between us and them. Honestly, I was quite touched to watch them kiss and caress each other; it was very, very sensual (and they were both beautiful, young, shapely men). I didn’t even feel a twinge of discomfort or judgement, just interest, and emotion.

In my rather heterosexual lifetime, I have been fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to explore another woman’s body; which was very much like meeting myself “in the flesh”. It was not an ongoing, intimate relationship, but a close friend who agreed to enter into this sacred space with me to learn more about ourselves and each other, and to honour ourselves as women…. which truly, seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do at the time, and for which I am very grateful. Perhaps allowing that line to blur for myself has made me more accepting of what other people feel or choose, or simply are… honestly, imperfect as we all are who is anyone else to judge what people choose or feel pushed to experience?

Years ago when I was separating from my husband, a friend of my was also leaving her husband, because she had met and fallen in love with a woman. I was close to her, and to him, and I watched helplessly as they struggled to make this break and adjustment as care-fully and lovingly as possible, but naturally fears were stirred up and egos were bruised in the process. From the sidelines, I was anxious to see it all blow over and for them to remain friends, for everyone to fully accept, and understand the others’ needs and position. To me, there was no apparent deception, no hiding, no lie… the truth was simply that she had fallen in love with another PERSON who touched her deeply and just happens to be female too.

[Via http://victoriassexblog.wordpress.com]

Playhouse Merced is doing It's a Wonderful Life!

Location:

Playhouse Merced Black Box Theatre

Merced, California 95340

When: December 14, 2009

Starts at: 2:00 PM

Description:

By Philip Grecian; Based on the film by Frank Capra

The holiday season is a perfect time to join together with family and embrace the truly important things in life. This December, Playhouse Merced will be offering It’s A Wonderful Life: The Radio Play in it’s Black Box Theatre. Set in a radio studio, the audience will have a perfect chance to see and hear this beloved holiday classic that tells the story of George Baily and his guardian angel, Clarence.

For Family Packages, Dinner Packages and Group Rates (15+), please call the box office at (209) 725-8587.

Student (with valid student ID) – $10.00

Child (5-12) – $8.00

Adult – $15.00

[Via http://queermerced.com]

Today is world HIV/AIDS awareness day!

Today is world HIV/AIDS awareness day! Go and get tested with friends, family, or your partner and know your status! Today is also a day to remember our loved ones who lost a fichting battle with the illness and those who are fighting that battle as we speak. The LGBT community stands behind you 100%! Remember, knowing is beautiful!

[Via http://thefemmeapr.com]

Necessity of a queer community

I came out at age 17. Until that point I never really questioned my sexual orientation. There were no all girl band posters hung on my walls. I didn’t dream about beautiful women from the silver screen (that I remember). All I knew was that suddenly I had fallen in love – and it happened to be with a girl. I actually denied the relationship and the true nature of my feelings to family, friends, and even myself for the first few months of our relationship. Eventually, all those around me knew I was gay and dating a girl (who happened to be the most outspoken lesbian in the school – try being straight dating her!).

It wasn’t until I entered college that I was comfortable labeling myself as lesbian. I still held the belief that I may not be strictly gay or straight, more that I was just a girl looking for love. However, I felt the pressure from the queer community to declare myself, and so I did. I never really thought much about it, just sort of seemed like the next step in my coming out process. With my declaration of my orientation, I was immediately accepted by the queer community.  I attended GSA meetings (an org I helped found at my high school) and made friends solely through a queer connection.  The more time that I spent around my new friends the more I realized how much of a family I had discovered.  These people were open, sexual, hilarious, caring, pompous, shy, and just about everything you could ever wish for in friends.  I felt extremely lucky to have found this wonderful amalgam that accepted everything I had to offer.

In the coming years, we all started going our separate ways; graduate school, work, family obligations.  I was slowly but surely losing my queer family.  We have kept in contact, and I have welcomed new members of the community into our social circle, but I can’t help but feel a loss.  After determining that I needed to try and find this connection outside the queer world, I went in search of old friends I had lost some connection with.  However, the more time spent surrounded by a heterosexually dominated group, the more I knew that I belonged with queers.  There is less need to make excuses for the things you say.  There is no need to skirt around saying my boyfriend/girlfriend.  There is a mutual understanding of the things you have had to overcome in your life.  We are all connected in one way or another.  Sure, I am connected to my hetero friends as well, but as someone who focuses on LGBT advocacy and queer politics, I am better acquainted with my queer brethren.

So, I sit here today, a semi-happy, queer femme in purple converse listening to Madonna who is just pleased to have finally found the community that makes me feel valuable and complete.  And for today, that’ll do.

[Via http://capitolfemme.wordpress.com]

Relationship Advice

It’s the day after Thanksgiving and I’m still under a turkey induced coma. So here’s Dan Savage on how to maintain a long-term relationship.

My favorite line: “People who buy dairy cows and do not milk them can be arrested on animal cruelty charges. People who acquire husbands and boyfriends and do not keep their balls drained should be arrested on animal cruelty charges.”

It’s probably not safe for work so watch it after the jump.

[Via http://queervisalia.com]

Gay Man Sentenced to Life for Pedophilia

James Rennie, Chief Executive for the LGBT Youth in Scotland and adviser to the Scottish government on issues of homosexuality and children, has been convicted of being one of the leaders of a pedophilia ring.  He also molested the children of his friends and even videotaped himself molesting an infant.  He has been sentenced to life in prison, which in Scotland seems to work out to just 13 years. Unbelievable!

The gay/lesbian community doesn’t like giving any kind of a spotlight to stories involving the molestation of children by one of their own, believing that doing so will only give more ammunition to the anti-gay forces.  But it is the LG community’s ambivalent stance on sex with underage boys (and girls) and its on again/off again relationship with NAMBLA that causes real harm in achieving equality for lesbians and gays.

We should be shouting from the roof tops our unequivocal condemnation of pedophilia instead of pretending the issue is irrelevant. This is my shout!

Here’s the story link:

http://www.edgeunitedstates.com/index.php?ch=news&sc=&sc2=news&sc3=&id=98671

[Via http://lesbianoutsider.wordpress.com]

It bothers me

That I am so obsessed with Bejeweled Blitz. Maybe it’s the beautiful clinking sounds like a toast is about to be made, or it could be the loud explosions when one of the special gems blow up; or perhaps it’s just my innate competitive nature that I must be 1st in the online tournament with my friends.

I was in first. Now I’m in 3rd. This makes me mad. So in an effort to raise my score, I have been playing this game ALL THE TIME–at stop lights, between study breaks, during class (art history mind you), and even going UP AND DOWN STAIRS.

I fear this will interfere with my work, but until it actually does…I’ll keep playing.

in other news..

I went to Houston this weekend, and it was absolutely FANTASTIC. I got there about 2 pm, and Stephanie and I just chilled for a majority of the time. We laid in her bed and talked (just talked) and chilled. We didn’t do much of anything until we were hungry. This is when we decided to go to KFC. Afterwards, we went back to her grandpa’s house and waited for her best friend Matt to get there. Matt is a really chill gay guy. I mention that he’s gay not because I am or that I really care, but 99% of the time I strongly dislike gay guys. They’re most of the time way too dramatic, and I just don’t fly with that. Anyway, Matt gained even more brownie points by suggesting hookah that night. We found this place downtown, and we had to pay the security to let us in (we were under 21). I must say, it was the best hookah I’d ever had. Seriously, it hands down kicked every San Antonio hookah bar EVER.

It was about 11-1130 when Stephanie and Matt both thought it’d be funny to take me to my first porn shop. Upon arriving, I turned beat red and didn’t know what to do with myself. They both had a good laugh at my expense, but seriously…it was awkward, haha. I have to say though…the store was really brightly lit, and I didn’t feel as if I were some dirt old bastard. So, that…was the upside. The downside was that I didn’t  know what I was doing. I just kept my hands to myself and just looked around. Finally we left about midnight, maybe 1230, and we get into my car–she won’t start. For some reason my key won’t turn in the ignition. Stephanie was driving Becca (my car, yes…I named my car), and so I didn’t know what happened. I knew that at some points my car will just refuse to turn with the key, but on the off occasions it would be because the steering wheel was locked. After about 10-15 minutes of trying to start Becca and even thumbing through the manual, I noticed that infact the steering wheel was locked. Once Becca greeted us with a friendly chuckle, we all drove to Jack in the Box then back to Stephanie’s.

By this time it was about 1 in the morning. I changed my clothes and was ready to crash (I’d been up since 6 am). I stayed up with Matt and Stephanie only a little while as they talked with Stephanie’s Papa. Soon after we all got into Steph’s room and started talking, listening to music, and what-have-you. I fell asleep almost instantly, but I overheard Stephanie tell Matt endearingly that I am the fastest sleeper in the whole world (it’s true).

Around 4 AM the three of us were uncomfortable sleeping in one full sized bed, and so Matt moved to Steph’s papa’s room, as he was out duck/dove hunting. I woke up for about an hour and talked to Steph until I finally fell back to sleep.

Saturday: we woke up around 1 pm. Matt started hounding Stephanie to get up so we could all go to the zoo! Around 2 we all got out of bed, and I started the domino effect by taking a quick shower and getting dressed. About an hour later, we all on our way out to the Houston Zoo! We stayed there for a couple of hours. Stephanie got attacked and eaten by mosquitos. Afterwards we went out to eat, got some tequila, margarita mix, and had ourselves a fine evening.

 

I must say that I’m pleasantly surprized on how well this relationship is going (thus far). there have been no crazy arguments, crazy demands, expectations, or anything of the sort. It’s easy. It’s natural. It’s right.

 

This thanksgiving we’re frying TWO turkeys, AND my favorite aunt and uncle are coming in town. It shall be fantastic and amazing. I’m working the next few days, right up until Wednesday to help prepare the store for black friday. I’ll be making about 30 hours this week. Can we say, money in the bank? I think so.

It has also been decided that I’ll be going back to UTSA this spring. I’ll talk all about that in my next post. I’ve got 2 tests I must take TOMORROW. I better get to studying.

[Via http://katiedawson.wordpress.com]

I Kissed A Girl...And I Wanna Do More

Like Katy Perry, and probably many of you, I kissed a girl. And I liked it. More than once.

Most times it was the result of inebriation and the desperate urging of one of my horny guy friends at a party. But regardless how I got there, I’m always surprised by how pleasantly different it feels to kiss a girl than a guy. I guess the whole thing just feels softer and slower, and usually tastes better (like cherry chapstick?). You get smooth, pillowy lips as compared to thin, chapped ones. There’s no stubble. And with girls, tongue action is more equal, as opposed to some guys’ tendency to overpower your mouth.

Lately I’ve been wondering if kissing a girl is so different, what would having sex with a girl be like? The thought has left me awake at night with lots of questions, confusion and curiosity. When it comes to trying out the other team, there’s just so much to consider…

First of all, what does that make me?

I’m very, totally and extremely certain that I’m not gay (just ask one of the guys I’m dating). But I’m definitely not 100% straight if I’m thinking about girls this way, right? Bi-curious would probably be the best term to describe me and that’s totally fine. Actually, I think I read somewhere that most people fall in the middle on the Kinsey Scale of sexuality. There are definitely more bi-sexuals sitting among us in lecture than we think there are and, in my opinion, they’re get the best of both worlds!

How would this work?

And what am I getting myself into, exactly? What constitutes sex with a girl? Is it just oral sex? Are there tools required? Which one of us would make the moves? I wouldn’t really know what to do if I found myself in bed with another girl (although I’m sure Captain Morgan would help me out a bit). I’m not up to speed on lesbian sexual politics, and I’m not sure how I can learn. One piece of wisdom I have acquired (from my gay male friends) is that oftentimes, lesbians don’t like to mess around with girls who are bi-curious, on the fence, experimenting, etc., because they assume that when things start to migrate down south, they’ll just chicken out, reject them, and run away to the safe familiarity of a peen. I totally get that. But if gay girls don’t want to get involved with me, how am I supposed to DO this?! Which leads me to…

Where am I supposed to find a lady?

It might be easy to find sexually open-minded people at smaller, liberal arts colleges where there is a higher population of gay students. But at my school, I don’t really know where to start looking among the thousands of undergrads. Where are all the bi-curious girls? I should probably start going to Rainbow Alliance/LGBT meetings more often and try to make friends. And I guess I’ll just have to be extra alert at parties and see if I can re-wire my Gaydar to pick up on signals from girls, too. Flirting with girls at parties will probably have to happen too, but I’m still emotionally scarred from the last time I tried to do that…

But even with all those questions, why not try it?

I just feel like the time is now to try this out. It’s practically expected for people to experiment in college, and I’m ready to go. The last thing I want is to wake up one morning in twenty years next to my snoring, scruffy husband and wish that I had explored another option when it was more socially acceptable.

If only it were as easy as it sounds.

Is anybody else going through this or know someone who is?

[Via http://collegecandy.com]

Natalie Portman's 'Extreme' Lesbian Scene

 

Portman is one of the hottest actresses around. She’s smart, sexy and a damn good actress, so of course I wanted to check out her spread in V magazine.  She talks about her new movie called Black Swan where she’s got a sexual scene with none other than actress Mila Kunis, 26-years-old.

Natalie Portman plays a veteran ballerina who competes with rival dancer played by That 70’s Show actress Mila Kunis.  I never thought 28-year-old Natalie would do something like this, but after watching her performance in Closer, I guess I’m not that surprised. Something tells me the lesbian scene is what’s going to bring in the peeps to watch this flick.

The 28-year-old also revealed that she had refused to strip off in the past because she was working out her own sexual identity.

‘It’s weird to be doing stuff on film as you’re figuring it out,’ she told V magazine. ‘Also, being a sexual object when you’re a kid is really uncomfortable.’

Read the full interview at www.vmagazine.com

To tide you over, dear readers...

Until I have finished this horrendous paper on microcredit and have time to write a scathing expose on events of the past two weeks, I present you with another installation of DREAM JOURNAL:

 

Last night I had some crazy dreams. This could have had something to do with a) the fact I did NOT eat a 1lb bag of peppermint patties before bed (per usual) or b) that my sleep schedule has been seriously out of whack the past few days. REGARDLESS, below is a sampling of my dreams:

 

1. ChefHooles came into my room wearing running gear and perfect going out makeup. I asked her if she was going for a run, and she said that she was going to go running TO a party and that she had already stashed a change of clothes in the bushes outside the Blue House to change into before said party. I was confused and asked her to clarify, she told me that I was stupid.

 

2. I made a mixed drink of whiskey and gin and chugged it. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I think it’s a fair assumption I probably made an ass out of myself.

 

3.  That I was told by a significant other that we could not stay together because I refused to convert to paganism. Er?

Menschen Kinder Herr

I really don’t want kids, but if I could without a doubt I could have a child just like this one, I would have two of them:

10 Year Old Boy Won’t Pledge Allegiance Because Gays/Lesbians Don’t Have Liberty & Justice

He’s so smart, so well spoken and cute as a button.  But everyone agree’s if I ever have a child it’s going to be like Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes.  Too smart for his own good, big imagination and constantly in trouble.  Constantly.

 

Today before Dutchess went home, we went and did a bit of shopping.  Went back to the pet shop to play with the puppies again.  I really want one, but Pickles would eat it for lunch.  Also, I found a few items to give as favours for my SCA stuff.  Look how cute they are:

 

Wooden Critters

There’s a bear, a camel, pig and a cow.  The cow even has a wooden utter.  There were more, I wanted the sheep but the wooly bit was dirty and the others had plastic on ‘em.  But these were great.  They have a little logo under them all, so I’m wondering if I can sand it off.  So cute.  :)

 

 

You just haaad to kiss her

And just when you think things are going totally great… you kiss her on the street at 2AM.

 

I don’t know if I mentioned that the girl I’m sleeping with is also my teacher. Well, she is. Fortunately, that hasn’t ever been an issue, and her class is BRILLIANT, and would have been just as much had I not been undressing her in my mind during class occasionally. I learned an incredible amount from my peers and she opened me up to a new way of singing and acting that blew my fucking mind.

We all went out for a drink after the last class, & this woman and I (plus my roommate/bff S) got high. I know my limits, I know to be good in front of people & not make an ass out of myself. This girl is no dumbass. We had a fabulous time laughing and extolling each other’s virtues.

It was time to leave, S and I walked out w/my teacher & one of my peers, and they walk us two to the train station where we said our goodbyes. My teacher gives me a hug and an obvious kiss lean-in, which surprises me, but I go for it- why not, I’m fucked up and it’s 2 in the morning. Generally, I’m not the kiss-in-front-of-people type, but she wasn’t stopping me & I certainly wasn’t pushing her.

But an hour later, my answering machine said otherwise.

Apparently I was being too pushy. I initiated it all, and it made her uncomfortable but she didn’t want to pull away (mind you, she full on MADE OUT with me on the street. There were like… 6 times she could have pulled away, easy) and make me feel badly.

I’m not sure what to say b/c I’m completely flabbergasted by the way that she has been able to manipulate the entire event into being my fault entirely. Certainly I take some of the blame– maybe I did read her completely wrong! But, if I did, wouldn’t she have just stopped it after one little kiss, hugged me and pulled away? Because I certainly don’t deserve to have the ‘that made me uncomfortable’ speech, which usually I have to give. She’s not my girlfriend, I know that. It was a strange, overly-intoxicated situation. I know that too. I certainly am willing to take… even 65% of the blame. But the fact that she can completely wash her hands of it and make ME feel like the asshole is making me REEEL right now. The nice/appropriate/mature way to handle that is to say, ‘you felt funny about that too, right? okay, as long as we’re both clear that that wasn’t what we want to do at 2AM with other people around.’

Again, it’s the assumption that I am not-aware, the assumption that I am immature and therefore irresponsible. Fuck that, I am a damn adult who was as surprised by her kiss as she was by mine. I actually said to S as I was walking away, ‘uhm. So that was  surprise. Sorry.’

And only women do this. Men aren’t manipulative in this way. But women, and specifically this woman, is neurotic in a way I’ve never experienced before… And until I got that phone message, I was in a really good place with her (thinking we’d just blow that stupid thing off), saying how amazing she was, really giving her all this positive energy.

So much for that.

Fortunately I have a brilliant and beautiful roommate who talked me down to a human level after I started screaming about this. We made a beautiful pasta dinner at 3:30AM and watched classic Friends episodes before passing out.

And I have to remember that the right one is going to treat me right. Whether I like this woman or not (which I do. She’s beautiful, talented, evolved, and a total genius/disaster), if she’s not going to treat me with the respect I deserve, it’s a really good thing she’s not my girlfriend.

here's why it's important to be nice to people everyday

b/c you never know what’s going on behind someone’s eyes. the person you have some random, fleeting contact with some random day could be having the very worst day of his or her life. something kind that you do for that person, even just something really small, something you don’t even notice you did, could brighten that person’s day like you wouldn’t believe.

not to harp on the oh-woe-is-us, our-neighbor-died-weeks-ago-and-now-our-house-stinks-and-we’re-traumatized [b/c, to be fair, as i mentioned, the smell is lifting (altho today was kind of a doozie, since it warmed up outside, hence warming up his air-tight house, which, in turn, passed more foul-smelling death air into our house...but i digress)] but last week, as you know, was bad. in fact, i never felt so terrible in my life. never. i felt horrified. i felt sad. i felt sick and violated somehow. and overwhelmed. and out of control. (and honestly, without sharing w/you on this blog, i think i would have felt even worse.)

there were three times during last week’s really dark days when my mood was lifted. and all three times had to do with some random person being kind to me/us. i think they all happened wednesday and thursday. wednesday night was our first night sleeping back at our house. after a horrible sleep spent breathing nasty air and having bad dreams, we woke with a start. or i did, at least.

“oh my GOSH, honey,” i said. “it’s trash day. i think i hear the truck!”

we threw on clothes and sneakers (well, sneakers for me, slippers for holly) and ran downstairs. i made it to the back door, trashbags in hand, just as the green garbage truck was beeping its way out of the alley. since baltimore–low on funds, like everyone else, i suppose–switched to once-a-week trash, trashday, thursday, is big in our household. it’s probably big in every household around here. if we miss it, we’re absolutely screwed. we don’t have a garage. and storing trash bags outside isn’t an option b/c of all the rats.

“maybe you can catch them!” holly shouted as i ran out the door in the pouring rain. “hurry, babe! catch them! call out to them!”

so there i was, carrying three trashbags, stomping thru the sopping wet yard trying to avoid potential feral cat crap landmines–oh and rat turds, gotta love those–my hair an absolute early-morning disaster. lord knows what i was even wearing. i think a jean jacket over my pajamas. and white sneaks. i ran thru the yard (it’s not all that big, but i still had to run) and swung open the gate.

“wait!” i shouted, sounding–and looking–pretty desperate, i’d say. “wait! i have…i have…”

the truck continued backing up and beeping the way big trucks do, into the street. i stood in the alley and put down my arms, defeated.

“trash,” i said, dejected. i walked back into the yard, my head down.

suddenly i heard something. it was the trashman! he had walked back from the truck into the alley adn then into our yard (!!!)  to get my trash. i was in disbelief. he was like…an angel. in the form of a garbage man. a garbage man angel in a yellow raincoat.

“you came back!” i said.

he smiled. “do you want me to get that stuff, too?” he said, pointing to our bags (and bags and bags) of recycling.

“no, that’s ok. it’s all recycling. we’ll put it out tuesday.”

“you sure?” he asked, loudly over the sound of the nearby truck. “b/c i can take it now if you want.”

i was flabbergasted. he was so friendly and it was so nice of him to come back. plus i looked crazy and wet, and it was brave of him to even talk to me.

“no that’s ok. but thank you!! oh my gosh, thank you for coming back. that was so nice of you. and we really needed it today. thank you.”

no problem, he said.

the day before. on wednesday, veteran’s day, we went to our local safeway to buy odor-controlling supplies. like baking soda (didn’t work), air fresheners (didn’t work), etc. i was feeling pretty much my lowest. it was shortly after we realized our house was smelling even worse than it did last sunday, the day they found our neighbor’s body. i think my face was still swollen from crying like a crazyperson on our stoop. 

as we were walking in, there was a safeway employee selling hot dogs outside. they usually do that for charity, i think, and usually in the summer. it was cold for a change (as in: november weather. not this weird stuff we have going on right now) and if i were her, standing in the cold and just barely out of the rain, i don’t think i would have been so chirpy.

“happy veteran’s day, ladies!” she said, loud and clear. “would you like a hot dog?!”

her sudden, and random, friendliness caught us off guard. it was wonderful.

“happy veteran’s day!” we said back, smiling while we politely passed on the hot dogs.

“let me ask you a question,” she said, leaning towards us over the hot dog stand. “do you know what the veteran’s day color is?”

we paused, looked at each other, and said we didn’t know.

“maybe red, white and blue?” i said.

holly guessed yellow.

“hmmm…good guesses. maybe it is yellow. or red, white and blue!”

“isn’t it kind of cold for you to be working out here today?” holly said.

“no, it’s fine,” she said. “i chose to be out here anyway.”

before we went inside the automatic doors, she wished us a happy holiday again and i swear i could have jumped over the stand and hugged her. i think holly and i both felt like crying. it just cheered us up so much. i don’t know what it was but i swear it helped.

since our house was still kind of foul and we just couldn’t get ourselves to cook, we decided to go to our favorite local diner for lunch. it’s greek-owned, just like in jersey, and has fabulous scrambled eggs and home fries and pancakes and pretty much anything else you order, regardless of the meal (despite the fact that i named off only breakfast foods! you can see where my mind’s at…) it may have been wednesday, it may have been thursday. but we were both so tired and deflated and dirty-feeling w/probably smelly death clothes.

i barely had an appetite but knew i needed to eat. holly felt similarly.

this great waitress came over to take our order. she’s one of those professional waitresses, that’s what i call them. a woman who’s been a waitress for so long it’s second nature to her, and she’s pretty much unflappable and calls everyone “hon” or “sweetie.”

i don’t know what she said to us, but she was just so nice. so so nice. we were really disoriented and holly was having a hard time figuring out what to order. she was struggling between two hot sandwiches w/gravy, mashed potatos on the side, that sort of thing. it was either a sirloin/roast beef open-faced sandwich or turkey. she settled on the beef, with the waitress assuring her it was an excellent choice. i loved her demeanor. she was so nice. and funny. and we both appreciated her demeanor so much.

our food came quickly, as it normally does there.

“enjoy, ladies,” she said.

when she was out of earshot, holly said quietly that she brought her a turkey sandwich by mistake. i could see the disappointment in her eyes. it’s kinda like, when you want a certain something, you want it. and turkey is surely not a replacement for a sirloin sandwich.

“why don’t you just tell her, honey? it’s not a big deal. i don’t think she’ll mind.”

“no, it’s okay,” holly said, starting to cut into her food.

“are you sure?”

“yeah. it’s fine.”

i looked at her face as she started to get ready to eat a sandwich that she really didn’t want. i knew she would never tell the waitress b/c she knew the friendly waitress would feel so bad she brought the wrong thing, esp. b/c holly and the waitress spent such a long time debating the merits of each, with holly finally settling on the beef.

“you’re a good egg,” i said to her. of course i felt like i was going to cry again. she got emotional, too. she knew exactly what i was talking about.

“this is exactly why i married you.”

b/c even when she’s having one of her very worst days–and her partner is pretty much falling apart in front of her eyes and her house smells literally like death warmed over (and over) and we don’t have a single decent-smelling thing to wear and our world has been flipped upside down–she still cares about other ppl’s feelings.

i’ve told you all about my theory about breaking the cycle of meanness. well here’s the other side of that: just being nice to everyone, as much as you possibly can. even when you’re having perhaps the worst day of your life, try to be nice to ppl. b/c you could be the “old man next door” who has absolutely no one, practically, in this entire world. you  might be the one person he comes into contact with all day. or you could be the two girls next door who are having the worst day ever. hold the door for someone. smile. make some idle conversation in line at the post office. anything. you could be the bright spot in someone’s day w/out even knowing it.

Carrie Prejean, You're No Anita Bryant

Same as it ever was?

I’m old: I have several silver hairs sprouting up around my temples just like Earth-2 Superman, pop music makes me angry, and if I don’t get to bed before 11 PM, I tend to be forgetful at work the next day and wander away from my cubicle.  And, like most old people, I am of the firm conviction that everything was way better when I was younger.  The rock stars wore more makeup, the movies had more space ships, and the tv shows had more hair.  Hell, even the bad things were somehow cut from a finer cloth than the bad things we’re stuck with today.  When I was younger, bad things were bad in a way that had meaning and gravitas.  These bad things–like the nuclear threat presented by the Soviet Bloc, and the belligerent wholesomeness of The Lawrence Welk Show– represented the culmination of a generation’s worth of massive-scale ideological brinksmanship from which there could be no turning back.   I’m talking about a time when the “zealot” pigeonhole was big enough to house more than just a contingent of Middle Eastern malcontents; back in the day, bad things and their respective attendants truly believed in their causes.  And they meant business.  With this historical perspective in mind, I really have a hard time taking Carrie Prejean seriously.  After all, I remember Anita Bryant.

Anita Bryant: now there’s a bitch to contend with.  I stumbled upon Bryant in an article in Time about her campaign to “Save Our Children From Homosexuality” when I was 8 years old.  I didn’t know what homosexuality was.  I did know I liked Nova from Planet of the Apes a whole bunch.   And Sabrina from Charlie’s Angels.  And that one girl in my class who was really good at dodgeball.  I wasn’t able to make the connection between myself and the people Anita Bryant sought to oppress, but nonetheless, I came away from that Time article feeling a mixture of anger and indignation.  I didn’t know much about hatred or intolerance back then, either, but thanks to Anita Bryant, I found myself on the fast track to learning.  Who the hell did she think she was, taking rights away from people and telling them how to live, I smoldered.  And right there, on the spot, I made that most sacred of grade school vows: ”Anita Bryant is not the boss of me!”

Anita Bryant was hard-core.  She didn’t just want to “protect marriage” from the “gay menace”; she wanted to legalize discrimination against gay people in regards to housing, employment, and public accommodation.  In other words, Anita Bryant wanted a world in which the difference between hobo and homo amounted to a handful of tattered accessories and a certain way of walking.  And she wanted that world badly enough to found and head up an organization (hysterically named Save Our Children) to create that world.  Bryant was a Disney villainess of a sort:  a larger than life persona with arched eyebrows, cold eyes, and a strangely wolfish smile who carried within her cloaks the threat Your Children Are Not Safe.  And as such, her tactics played to the darkest fears of middle America: “As a mother, I know that homosexuals cannot biologically reproduce children; therefore, they must recruit our children.” 

Anita Bryant got results.  She was able to rally up enough hatred and terror to not only make legal gay oppression in her home of Dade County, Florida, but to create an environment in which homophobia maintained a 31-year stranglehold on the rights of gay people to adopt children in that state.  Because of Anita Bryant and her efforts with Save Our Children people lost jobs, they were prohibited housing, and thousands of children were denied safe and loving homes.  That bitch was no joke.

Which brings me to Carrie Prejean.  Granted, the cultural landscape has changed significantly since I was a kid, and despite my geriatric gripes, it has changed for the better.  While things are far from perfect, at least the trumped-up allegations that Bryant used to trumpet in the mainstream media have toned down to hissed innuendoes from the fringe.  The battle field is no longer one upon which we are forced to struggle for our basic rights to work for a living or maintain a roof over our heads, but to obtain the same protections and rights for our committed relationships and families that are enjoyed and sometimes taken for granted by straight people.  So a new age brings forth a new beauty queen to try to be the boss of us.  But Carrie Prejean is no Anita Bryant.

Carrie Prejean is an opportunist.  She became famous because she made the statement “…I think that I believe that marriage should be between a man and a woman, no offense to anybody out there.”  (I can almost envision Anita Bryant looking up from the green glow emanating from her enormous caldron, snarling “‘No offense?!?’”)  Carrie Prejean did not found the National Organization for Marriage.  She doesn’t lead it.  She is employed by it.   In essence, anyone who focuses their frustration on Carrie Prejean is as misguided as those dorks who confused Joe Camel with the tobacco industry. 

Carrie Prejean has no strength in her alleged convictions.   Witness her pathetic display of ignorance and immaturity on The Larry King Show this week when asked why she had settled her “religious discrimination” lawsuit against the Miss USA pageant.  As if it wasn’t lame enough to back down from the question “Why settle since you had a fight to carry on?”, Prejean had to take it one step further into Wussy Wonderland by pussing out and pouting instead of taking a call from a gay viewer.  She is not a crusader.  She is a paid spokesmodel who couldn’t hold up her side of a debate if it came equipped with E-Z grip handles.  Based on this week’s performance on King, I’d say the powers that be over at NOM are probably regretting their investment even more than the Miss USA pageant regrets buying Prejean’s breast implants.  At least the implants are doing their job.

Carrie Prejean has allegedly written a book.  The volume is a testament to Prejean’s mastery of the literary arts in that it clearly has a front cover, a back cover, a dust jacket, and pages that are made of paper.  Furthermore, it demonstrates Prejean’s level of commitment as a gay rights opponent as its title, Still Standing,  bears more than a passing resemblance to “I’m Still Standing”, the 1983 hit song by gay marriage activist Elton John.  I can’t wait until Prejean’s Still Standing hits the cutout bin so I can buy it; my copy of Chastity Bono’s Family Outing is lonely and hasn’t had anyone call it “Daddy” since my copy of The Total Woman was consumed by feminist termites.

I could go on.  And on.  The point is, Carrie Prejean is a joke that practically writes itself.  If she’s the worst that the opposition has for us, the future of Gay Marriage in America is far brighter than she is.

Test0estrogen

Feeling weightless and free, with the stink of paste in her nostrils, a bunch of nodes jammed into her spiky hair and Shonen Knife yelling through her headphones, Scar was about as close to happy as she ever got in those dumpster days.  Sitting with the crew getting pasted up and ready to jack in earlier, she’d found herself explaining breeze-blocks to a drag queen as, “building accessories, like bricks, but bigger and really porous, doll,” and it made her feel that sense of tribe again, where shit like that was joyfully commonplace.

Veto and Samanth0r were off somewhere coding the killer virus to kill all killer viruses – by the time you read this, you probably know all about it.  The Mobius Matrix Virus didn’t come at you with any fucking lilac crap or rainbows or little pink triangles, but that thing was queer by name and nature for sure.  What it did, was tangle your processor, while entertaining you with a never ending loop of rather pretty DOS coloured binary in the shape of the good old infinity symbol.  Your memory, meantime, was harnessed by our jerrybuilt server, downtown.  And it was goodnight she said to pretty much every Hetero network in G-City.  Every network that worked on the ubiquitous Makro$hark sys anyway.

When we deck-jockeys jacked in, Veto and Sam streamed coded instructions right to our goggles.  We didn’t even needs brains for the mission, just a certain level of dexterity.  If you’d been standing at the decks that day, you’d have seen a very motley crew indeed, all wired up and doing something that looks a little like tai chi and a little like we’re about to karate chop your ass right off.  I can feel the excitement of it all even now.  It wasn’t your everyday data theft gig, no sir.

(Yup, I’m afraid it was the kind of event that forced an American accent upon one).

Helen’s team went in first, in deep stealth mode, to recce and open up the dataways.  The the deep geeks themselves, Sam and Veto, unleashed the unholy hounds of hell looping through cyberspace and after that it was up to us, to literally hack and slash our way in the aftermath, creating new portals to spread the infection, spread the chaos.

Waiting in the wings, was Blue, to haul out anyone with the slightest sign of earbleed.  I heard later Helen had actually stopped breathing when she got yanked back.  Me, I got off light, with my usual little oozes of blood from nose and ears.  Veto generally blames my history of medication for that one.

What does it look like out there?  Nothing like that fucking pretty green serpent Veto and Sam cooked up, I can tell you that with confidence.  And it doesn’t matter how corporate the data you’re surfing, there are no logos and colour out there … well it’s something you feel, you don’t see it as such.  If you’re synesthetic, you’ll know what I mean.  It’s damn near impossible to explain to a noob, you’ve got to pilot a deck to understand.  The moment you jack in, gravity’s not an issue – nothing is an issue.  There’s just what you feel in your hands, and see on your eyefeed.  There’s just … this incredible focus.  I just can’t explain it, man.

naughty teenage lesbian sleep overs, on video

mmmm tastes sweet

What happens when you have a slumber party with a bunch of horny young teenage girls? Well, aparently they get naked and lick and fuck eachother…..”Who brought the strap on?”

Watching naughty little teens getting naked and pleasing eachother is something we never get tired of. We found this site that features exactly that, steamy scenes of young horny teens licking and pleasing eachother. Enjoy!

check out teen lesbians

go back home

 

breakdown, part 2

last night i closed out my entry on a high note: we stopped by our house in the afternoon and the death smell was lifting, thanks, in part–or so we thought–to lots and lots boxes of baking soda. and time. today we came back and the smell was worse. worse even than the day (sunday) they found and removed our neighbor’s body. i simply cannot describe the feeling, the crushing blow this was to us, especially me.

i got one good whiff of it and then walked out, closed the door and stood out on our wet, rainy stoop and just cried. i cried and cried and cried standing there until holly came out and warned me that the neighbors would start to wonder what was going on. and i said, what the hell do i care what our neighbors think. i cried until i gave myself a headache, until my face was swollen and my lips hurt. even tho we have put blood, sweat and tears into our house, i wish it wasn’t ours. i wish we were renting it so we could just break our lease and get the hell out of here. but responsibility calls. this is our house, this is home ownership and we need to deal with it, whether we want to or not.

holly has spent a great deal of time on the phone over the past couple days trying to figure out a) what can be done about his house (empty, easy to break into, a huge fire hazard, sealed up, unventilated with rats inside and out) b) who/where he may have relatives and c) make sure all of his books are donated to the local university he retired from (as a librarian). tho we don’t/didn’t know much about him, he told us on several occasions that he wanted to donate his books to that university, but felt overwhelmed by the task of going thru them and packing them up. we offered to find ppl to help him, but he said he wasn’t interested. we think he was just embarrassed to have ppl come in his house. that’s how full of books and paper is it, apparently. (the cops and fire fighters told us there was just a narrow path for them to get to him.) maybe that’s why he kept to himself so much, never had anyone over. he was just ashamed. it’s very sad. i’m really surprised we were even able to talk him into getting an exterminator (two years ago; obviously it never worked).

by talking to three ppl that knew our neighbor–including the lone cousin he kept in touch with, an elderly woman (in her 80s) in texas–we’re actually learning a little about the quiet, eccentric man that lived–and died–alone next door to us.

he was a hermit, she told holly tonight. he loved to read, but had a problem with buying books (as in, he couldn’t stop). he was always “a little strange,” she said. and tho she told him for years to write a will, she doubts he has one. he wanted to be cremated without a service. he was a agnostic, or an athiest, she said. he really did plan on moving to texas, apparently (he always told us he planned to move to texas), as he put a deposit on a home there. she wound up talking on the phone to the detective that came here sunday night. they’re having a hard time identifying him, and the detective was inquiring about dental records. yeah. so. no wonder we can’t get the smell out of here. not to be disrespectful. but it’s the truth.

re: his empty house, turns out baltimore city is even more dysfunctional than we thought. they won’t shut off his water until “something happens,” such as a flood or a pipe burst. they won’t shut off his power until “something happens,” such as, oh i don’t know, G-d forbid a fire or something (every house on our block is connected; you do the math). and they won’t secure the place (“secure” probably means board it up, which will really really suck in terms of trying to sell or rent our place in the future, which is our plan) until “something happens,” like…robbery. or squatters. or drug addicts who are firing up crack pipes amongst piles and piles of papers. or hookers who use the space to do business. (this has happened with at least two houses across the street from us). so you can see we have a vested interest in his house. that’s why we’re happy his remaining relative is interested in finding a local lawyer to try to do something about his house. we’re in the process of locating one for her. here’s hoping something good can happen. maybe she can sell it.

so here we are. back in our house. it smells like a friggin winter wonderland here as we’re burning body shop oil non-stop. (we came up with the idea of buying one of these tealight oil things) so we’re mixing cranberry and pine and oh it smells great when its burning. but once it’s out it’s…cranberry, pine…and death! (hey, jessie, you told me i had to start joking around about things so there you go) the death smell has settled near the front door and the top of the stairs and the basement. and you stiff hard enough anywhere you can pretty much smell it. but that’s where it’s the strongest. i’m sitting on a puffy armchair that probably smells like it, too. but what the hell are we supposed to do? sit on the floor? exactly.

look, humans deal with much more traumatic things on a daily basis all over the world. but this is our little trauma right now. and yeah, doing 10,000 pounds of laundry maybe doesn’t seem like such a big deal to some of you, but it is to us b/c we’re already exhausted. and we don’t want that laundry soaking up the death smell once we’re done w/it. which it will since everything around here does. i’ve got deep rings under my eyes, and can only tolerate bad-for-me food b/c honestly, it’s the only thing i can work up an appetite for.

we’ve got a load of towels in the dryer and sheets in the washer. next up is a comforter and then some pajamas. we’ll lie close together in our own bed tonight and try to regain some sense of normalcy. we’ll try to keep pushing out thoughts of what might have happened to him, and hope to G-d he didn’t suffer. we’ll try to ignore the bad whaffs of air to seem to come out of nowhere. we’ll try to wake up tomorrow and feel normal and go on with things. b/c sometimes, most times, the very best thing you can do is not run away, but just go on with things and take everything one day at a time.

We Can Do It!

J. Howard Miller’s iconic poster of Rosie the Riveter is the inspiration for the We Can Do It! campaign. Photography by John Ganun and produced by Brad Bilanin and the Open Artist Movement. Take a look!
more about "We Can Do It!", posted with vodpod

“We Can Do It! is a photo campaign to build solidarity and personal strength through positive messaging. The goal is to bring to life modern iconic individuals, by depicting them as powerful and not victims in support of the global LGBT movement worldwide.”
- OpenArtistMovement.com

Not only are these images hot! Open actors and celebrities like Darryl Stephens and Reichen are joining the cause. They are thought provoking with the ability to expand the viewer’s idea of what being gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgendered people can do in America. The stereotypes of who can do what job are being reformed. With the issue of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell in debate. This first wave of images show gay people out for all to see as service men. I look forward to seeing this campaign grow… I can imagine drag queen, Ru Paul in a nurses uniform, Ellen DeGeneres with a radio microphone, Chaz Bono in drag as his mom, Cher,.. The diversity of the LGBT community is a wealth to be explored and no matter the job; We Can Do It!

Check Out openartistmovement.com/wcdi regularly for new additions to the campaign gallery!

in other news, i have a rash.

this is not really news. at least not to me. or holly. as i am always getting some sort of rash. it’s annoying, and, at 31, getting a little old.

i spent much of yesterday and today running to doctors and pharmacies, with the top of my hands and wrists itching like crazy, praying i didn’t see anyone i know since my eyelids are swelling up, too. oh yes. yes yes yes. as a grumpy ex-colleague of mine used to say: “if it’s not one thing, it’s another” (the not-too-distant cousin of the equally annoying “damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” which she also favored. i cannot stand either one of those expressions, btw. it’s like, well, duh. there’s truly always going to be something. it’s called life.)

anyway, i have a theory about this rash, but i’m going to hold off and keep you waiting until my book comes out. in the meantime, it’s keeping me up at night–or at least waking me up–and making me glad we have our overpriced/gay-unfriendly cobra plan. i am hoping the antihistamines i was prescribed work so i won’t have to take the scary steroid pack i was also prescribed b/c woohboy, the one time i had to take that (for chronic sinus headaches) on about the second day i was filled with such a sudden, ravenous, completely insane hunger that i swear i could have eaten a couch cushion. or my arm. good thing we had tositos in the house. i wish i would have chewed them better b/c they scratched my throat.

anyway, the rash kind of threw a temporary wrench into my very temporary joy that a national story i wrote was going to be picked up by the today show, which is my very favorite show next to the golden girls (yes, apparently i’m 80). it is my big dream to be on w/meredith, matt, anne and al. i got word that a reporter was going to do it and i immediately thought: OMG MY RASH. THE RASH HAS MOVED TO MY EYELIDS AND THEY’RE STARTING TO SWELL AND I’M GOING TO LOOK LIKE I HAVE A PEANUT ALLERGY AND I JUST ATE A PB&J IN ROCKEFELLER CENTER AND NEED AN EPI-PEN.

my panic was, of course, unwarranted (as it usually is), b/c even tho they’re probably doing the story this week, not only will i not be on, but, for various (long winded) reasons, i will not even be mentioned. this is fine, tho. b/c i want my first visit to the today show to be for my book. and just the mere fact that something i wrote, that i came up with the idea for (while in weird-o acupuncture over the summer) is being picked up by my fave news show makes me extremely happy. and plus, i have a rash. it’s bad enough just telling you about it. like hell i’m gonna go on national tv w/it. c’mon now

Summer Pranks Aren’t Welcome Here

Well, like most surprising conversations, you don’t exactly remember how they started. It seems people simply start talking and our language carries us from topic to topic.

This one was more of a push in the pool. I was simply minding my own business, without a care in the world, taking in life’s warm sun rays as they kissed my skin…when all of a sudden, the three culprits creped their mischievous little bodies behind my back and with one great heave–pushed me into the pool landing into a major belly flop.

The culprits would be the phrase and words we all know…

I love you

Now, for most who know me (or have dated me), I’m not afraid of commitment. In fact, I almost challenge it to come around like a bully on the playground. I’m most comfortable in a relationship. But this makes me scared. I’m nervous. I’m nervous for the amount of trust she has in me. No one really knows the damage I can really cause, but I think everyone is about to know soon enough…

Night before last Stephanie and I were on the phone. Suddenly she begins to cry, and I have no idea why. Somehow, someway we got to an emotional topic (for her). After a long, awkward pause she says, “Katie, I love you.”

I was shocked. We haven’t even been “dating” two weeks, and she’s already comfortable enough to tell me those three little words? What happened to taking it slow? What happened to repairing what was broken once before? I’m just so uncertain. I don’t even know where I’ll be in a year! For all we know I could be at Full Sail in Florida or College Station at A&M or Austin at UT. I have so many paths that ours might never cross again. And who’s to say this long distance thing is really going to work? If I go to Florida, I’m not going there with a relationship back here in Texas. I’ll be there to strictly focus on school and my future career. If I go to College Station, it’s plausible we may work, but there are no sure things. IF I make it into UT, the relationship is almost certainly a dead end. But the fact of all these options…I’m not going to set my path because of a girl. I’m not going to risk one decision affecting (essentially) the rest of my life. This is the most selfish times in our lives, but someone has to be…

Not only does the major possibility that we won’t work scare me, but it’s also the fact that she hurt me so bad the 1st few times around. Who’s to say she won’t just flip out again? We haven’t even addressed any of those speed-bumps. We’ve just simply started “talking” again. But all of this scares me right down to the core.

I’m going to have to talk to her tonight…I can’t just keep this big of an issue inside. Especially if I’m planning to see her next weekend.

God, I’ll probably make her cry…I hate making her cry. This is just all so scary. I don’t like this feeling. I don’t like it at all…

Fuck DADT!

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, Don’t Be, Don’t Exist, Lie!
Don’t share who are, just resist, Deny!
You can’t openly serve for our country, Why?

Don’t be open, go back in the closet!
Your not hetero enough to fight, where is the logic?
It makes no sense and it’s about time we stop it.

Your too gay to protect our nation,
This is brainless discrimination.
How exactly is sexuality relevant to a military situation?

You can’t be a soldier, because you’re too queer.
You can’t fight for our honor, choose a new career.
I can’t understand it, What exactly do they fear?

That you might spread gay cooties on the other army boys?
That you’ll be applying eyeliner when you batallion deploys?
That you’ll misuse your guns as anal sex toys?

This is absolutly ridiculous!
Let’s get rid of this.
This ignorant law is painfully ludicrous.

How many skilled technicians need to be discharged?
It’s a violation of civil rights, that we have fought for so hard.
Freedom is so important, please don’t disregard.

Our Army needs able troops, can’t they comprehend?
Because of ignorant fears, brave Americans can’t serve and defend.
Because of homophobia, our military is now weakened.

This law must be put to an end!

Carina Fosse

May 12th, 2009

Mitrice Richardson's Family and Friends Ask the LGBT Community to Help Them Find Her

There was a Monday night press conference at which the family of Mitrice Richardson formally asked the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community of Los Angeles–and elsewhere –to help them find the young woman who has been missing for nearly two months.

Tessa Moon, who has been in a two-year romantic relationship with Mitrice Richardson, reached out to the gay and lesbian community to see if they have seen the missing woman, Michael Richardson said.

Michael Richardson said Moon has been helping search for his daughter since she disappeared.

“We do the searches that no one wants to do,” Michael Richardson said. “We’ve been out here talking to pimps, gang members and ladies of the night on Manchester, Florence, Western and Figueroa.”

Alleged sightings of Mitrice Richardson have been reported in Los Angeles and Orange counties and as far away as San Jose. Her father tries to check out as many leads as possible.

“I don’t care if they don’t turn out to be Mitrice, but I have to go look,” her father said.

He said the searches have been fruitless, although some of the women bear a strong resemblance to his daughter. But despite the disappointment, he said he remains optimistic about the possibility of finding his daughter alive.

“You can do no wrong in my eyes,” Michael Richardson said he would like to tell his daughter. “I’m trying to get you and we are going to work this out.”

The Advocate added:

Tessa Moon [made] an appeal tonight [...] at Jewel’s Catch One community room in Los Angeles. Moon and Richardson have been in a relationship for two years.

“If I could tell her anything right now, it would be ‘Don’t be afraid. We’re coming,’” she told the Los Angeles Times on Monday.

Moon was in the same motorcycle club, The Chosen Few, as Richardson’s father Michael, who is urging police to release security footage from the night his daughter was arrested to prove that she was not in the right mental state to be released from police custody. She was discharged from the station at approximately 1:25 a.m., according to a family website, with no cell phone or purse. None of her bank accounts or credit cards have been used since she went missing, KTLA News reports.

Michael Richardson seems to be at the breaking point:

“You could obviously see that something was wrong with her mental state, and still you don’t call for the 5150, the psychological analysis on her. You see that something is wrong with her, but you let her go,” said Moon.

“Sheriffs need to be questioned about the young, black, African American lady who was walking down there by herself, not in her right state of mind,” [Michael Richardson] said. “Based on the way she was conducting herself, she was supposed to be held.”

At an emotional news conference Monday night, Mitrice’s father pleaded for information about his 24-year-old daughter, while also leveling serious allegations against the L.A. County Sheriff’s department.

“The case is upside down. Everything they’re doing do my daughter is upside down,” said Mitrice’s father.

Two weekend searches of the area have turned up nothing, but Moon remains optimistic.

“I know she’s alive. I feel her, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s alive,” said Moon.

I hope so, but every day that she’s missing, it doesn’t look good.

On the high note, this is something that is usually unprecedented about black families that (1) appears to accept their child’s sexuality, and (2) allows the consort or companion to speak on their behalf as family. They just want her back; they just want justice served.