Saturday Stories...

I awoke Saturday morning with only a few things on my mind: the first day at the pool, BBQ, and the Almond Poppyseed Loaf I had prepared just before bed.

Looking forward to the day, I was in the best of moods- jovial, energetic, and just plain old giddy.

I prepped my bag, pup, kid, etc for the day, then enjoyed a slice of the baked yumminess with a cup of coffee before tearing out for a great day in the sun. I sent the kids off to the pool whilst I picked up BBQ for poolside lunching and ice for the cooler.

The smell of pulled pork filled my nostrils as I pulled into the convenience store for a couple bags of ice. The young man who works at Country Farms is typically very friendly with me (sometimes semi-flirtatious, which I find amusing for a dozen reasons) and I was in such a great mood, I wanted to share that and uplift his spirits.

I flashed my most dashing smile, behaved "cutesy", and told him I'd be spending the day poolside, bet you're jealous, giggle- you know the routine... I skipped back to the car, still looking forward to the day, feeling good about the ego stroke I had given to this awkward guy.

Inserting the key into the ignition, glancing in my rear view (still smiling like the Cheshire Cat), I catch a glimpse of my reflection and was instantly mortified. There- staring back at me were a few poppyseeds lodged in the crevices between my teeth. Yep- right in the front where it really matters.

Those of you who do not know my intense passion for dental hygiene will perhaps not be as horrified as you should be.

For my pathetic ego, deflation occurred with all the gusto of a worn out whoopie cushion. With my head hung low, I emerge from the car and join the family for food and a dip. As I share the events of the morning with the family, I can at least take pleasure in others' joy- even if it is at my expense (I'm just that kind of gal.)

Important facts you should have learned from this story:
Poppyseeds are the enemy.
The dude at CF digs chicks with gnarly teeth.
Lori has the bounce-back potential of a brand new bungee cord.
My days of eating foods all willy-nilly are done...

Thursday, November 27, 2008

For my avid survey readers- I am sure you are all quite concerned with why I asked for healing for my vagina. I wasn't being facetious. I discovered over the last week that something was terribly wrong. My body would no longer respond normally to sexual stimulation. Yesterday, I pulled out all the stops- no orgasm. Typically, I am pretty easily orgasmic. Quite frankly, if I do it myself it is a sure thing. Not yesterday. I was convinced that my body had simply shut down and my days of great sex were over. Apparently the drug Zoloft has a potentially serious side effect called genital sensory impairment. Since I have very recently begun this new drug regimen, I can only make an educated assumption the two are related. Of course, this realization had to take place after my Doctor's office had closed the day before Thanksgiving- 5 days until the office reopens. Last night I managed to break down the anti-orgasm barrier, with the help of a stud and lots of patience. But I intend to get off (no pun intended) this medication as quickly as possible. I fear if I continue taking the drug, (of which I currently only take a half dose) I may become paralyzed from the waist down once I am on a full dosage. Point is- I hate you, Zoloft. If you thought I was depressed and anxious before, try my mental state after spending the rest of my existence without getting off.

Things I have learned...

Saturday, November 08, 2008

Seems that in the past few weeks, I have been overwhelmed with feelings, thoughts, situations- often more than I thought I could bear. I was wrong. I can handle almost anything. I just need to remember these things I have learned. It is not my responsibility to make others happy. Each person is responsible for their own happiness. I am responsible for MY happiness. If I'm not happy- I am the only person to blame. Sacrificing oneself is not a way to demonstrate love. Anyone worthy of my love will realize that. It is impossible to give something you do not have. You must have love for yourself before you can give it to others. People will always lay guilt at my feet- it is my choice to pick it up. That was the most intense revelation I've had through this. I don't HAVE to feel guilty? Incredible! I choose not to anymore. Stop beating myself up for choices that could have been made differently. Life is a learning experience. I must simply suck it up and move on. Once I have learned that most consequences are self induced, I will discontinue my self-torturing ways. I am strong. Looking back on my past, the reason I have felt so weak is simple. I had carried too much for too long. Just like all general life principles, exerting too much energy will make even Mr Universe weak. When I look back on all that I have been through- all the experiences I've had, the hurts, the fights- I realize I had to be strong to make it through. Wow! Not everyone deserves the same priority in my life. As a mother, I have ranked the people in my lives today. God, my children, then myself. Everyone else comes after that. Family, friends, etc will fall in according to their spot in my heart, the amount of trust I have in them, and what they offer to my life. I have made a decision this week. I will only put my kids before myself. This isn't an act of selfishness- I truly believe it to be a way to better love others. Loving myself first. Thank you to those of you who see your own words above. You know what you shared made a difference in my perspective and in my life. You are truly amazing and I love you.

Things I love...

Thursday, October 09, 2008

The things I love are varied. Obviously, I love my kids most of all. My family, God, my country, my friends are all at the top of the list. But there is a subset list of my loves. Allow me the freedom to share? Music- especially really good music, Crossword puzzles, Sudoku, Board games, and Cards. Laughter, Butterflies in my stomach, Holidays, Good food, Wine, Beautiful weather, Birthday parties, Beaches, and Hammocks. Camera phones, Texting, Phone calls with people I care about who are too far away to hug, toe socks, and underwear. Hugs, Kisses, Cuddling, Fireplaces, Cabins, Campfires, S'mores, and Fresh air. Ice cold beer, Cigarettes, The smell of cigars, burning leaves, and Bread baking. The feeling in my chest when I breathe really deep in the super cold weather, Taking in the sounds and sights of the outdoors, and Behaving like a child. I recently decided to create a To Do list- things I really want to try, but haven't. Here are a few of the things on the list already. Skydiving, Snow skiing, Go back to college, See the West Coast, Visit a tropical place, Put a hammock in my yard, Become an advocate- not just in my mind, Deliver a baby, Own a horse, Meet new people, Perform a wedding ceremony, Return to the theatre, Explore New York City in depth, Journal my life experiences for my kids and grandkids, Have more experiences to journal, and Publish my poetry. Some of these things are less concrete: Teach my kids the value of acceptance, Lead them by example, Open their minds to all of life's possibilities, Let go of my fears, Live for the moment, Speak my truth, Become an even better woman/mother, find closure for all the "openness" in my life, and Live out my dreams.

Update on a previous post

Sunday, September 28, 2008

So, in the blog, "How Does One Become a Lesbian?" I mentioned 2 people who were pivotal in my experience. The first was Denise. She was my first clue that I was a big raging lesbian, the source of my teenage lust, and an amazing part of my memories. She and I reconnected a couple of years ago. She is doing great, is as wonderful as ever. But had NO clue, until reading the blog, the significance she held in my adolescence. Now she knows and has handled it rather well. Better than I expected. An amazing friendship has blossomed and we have gotten a chance to know one another as adults. A fabulous reunion is planned and I am stoked. The second was Bonnie. She was the first girl with whom I had an actual encounter. I haven't seen her since 1994. I talked to her on the phone once about 3 years ago. Then yesterday, I was shopping at Wal-Mart. As I begin down the aisle, I see a very familiar face. It's her. I stopped and spoke with her for several minutes. She didn't recognize me at all. Which I thought strange, I don't look that much different than senior year. Older- but the same. She did look very different. She was thin, her eyes were dark, she had sores on her face, was jittery, she smelled like piss, and was clearly on some pretty serious drugs. She had her 2 toddlers with her. It broke my heart to see her that way. But it has always been my oath to myself to stay out of other people's drama. So, I said "it was good to see you," gave a hug, and walked away, leaving that part of my life back in 1994- where it belongs. Goodbye, Bonnie. You changed my life in ways you will never understand. However, the past is where you must stay. Some things are better left as memories.

Because some people want inside my mind...

Sunday, September 07, 2008 There are some people who appreciate how absolutely random I am at times. There are others who are befuddled by it. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me, although it is kinda warm and fuzzy when people embrace the oddities about you. Last night, I watched most of, before I fell unconscious, the movie Employee of the Month. Jessica Simpson's character, Amy Renfroe, was really kinda stupid. I know you must be thinking what I did- not much research involved in portraying that role. Maybe Jessica went to Sam's Club in order to familiarize herself with the essence of Amy, but I doubt it. I mostly felt sorry for poor Jessi because she had ginormous ears under all that beautiful, smooth, flaxen hair. It is sad to think of someone so pretty and dumb (which are great traits to look for in a potential bed buddy) with big flappers like that. ** Although I suppose they would make great handlebars in the event she began to steer away from the track, if you know what I mean. ** Amy also had requested a transfer to another store because she gets all horny and hops in bed with the EOM each month. Let's tie back those ears, blondie and I will show how hard I can work to go above and beyond to earn the most prestigious title in the grocery store. ...But I digress... I drove through Sonic on Friday to get a Strawberry Limeade, which I do every Friday, between 2p-4p is preferable- it is happy hour and all drinks are half price- when the most disturbing thing happened. The gentleman, and I use the term loosely, who took my cash and provided me with my Friday ritualistic beverage, had fingernails. Obviously, everyone has fingernails. But his were long. Not the pinky-coke nail thing. All of them. And I don't mean long as in poor hygeine. I mean long, longer than mine, well manicured, nails. This is disturbing. What is the point in that? I don't believe this man to be a drag queen. I am 99.9% sure he is not a fag (as my gaydar has become much finer tuned over the years.) I was tempted to ask what the purpose was. Maybe he is building something in his backyard and has no tools. Maybe he uses them for clawing at the dirt, or to butter his toast. Maybe there IS a legitimate reason for it. Maybe... Cut to this morning, I am watching The Butterfly Effect, which I have seen a few years ago, but enjoyed and highly recommend to others. This made me curious about my own repressed memories. Is there some way, although I haven't journaled jack shit, to recall those? I really don't want a nosebleed or a migraine afterward. Nor do I want to change the past. I just want to remember it. I am now on a mission to discover a way for me to recover my own past. I think it can happen. My random thought process is hard to follow at times. For example- you may say, "Wanna get a milkshake?" To which I might reply, "This guy Tim used to have a purple fishnet thong. It was hysterical." How did I get there, you might say. Take a brain walk with me- Milkshakes are great. I usually get chocolate. My friend Stephenie doesn't like chocolate. She has a daughter names Alyssa, Regan used to call her Melissa. I knew a Melissa once, she was my supervisor at Universal AdCom. The other sup was Tonya. I once hooked Tim up with Tonya. Tim asked if he should wear the purple mesh thong on his date with her. Ahh yes, the purple mesh thong... And so it goes. I find lots of you just don't let your mind wander enough. If I let mine wander even more, I could possibly discover my own hidden past, the reason for men with long nails, or why they chose big ears for Amy?

How does one become a lesbian?

Friday, September 05, 2008

The following may contain subject matter that is inappropriate for children. ;) There I sat, 17 years old, in my bedroom, with one of my best friends (who we will call Bonnie). She and I talked about everything, especially sex. She was *ahem*experienced. I was not. She would tell me endless stories about the boys she was with. I would listen. The very idea of her being so promiscuous both intrigued and discouraged me. That day she began telling me one of her stories. I sat and listened, soaking up every detail, as I always did. As the conversation progressed, she said bluntly, "Do you ever think about being with another girl?" Now before I provide you my response to that question, let me back up and give you my history. At 14 years old, I knew there was something "different" about me. I grew up in a religious household. I went to a Christian school. Although I had an uncle who was gay, we didn't talk about it and we certainly didn't embrace it. It was simply frowned upon. My sister had a friend, her best friend, (for the purposes of this story, we will call her Denise) who mesmerized me. I don't know why, exactly. She was funny, so much she made me laugh til it hurt. She was smart and attractive. I was 3 years younger and felt like maybe my attraction was just because an older girl was paying attention to me. But the more I was around her, the more I started thinking about other stuff. I would sit and talk to her or listen to her stories or watch her while she interacted with someone else and all I could think about was what it would be like to kiss her. Of course, this was unnatural and I was ashamed. But then one day, the most amazing thing happened. Denise told my sister she was a lesbian. Wow. It clicked with me. That attraction was my poorly developed gaydar at work. And, holy crap! I might be one of THEM. I tried to forget about Denise. Even when she joined the Army and sent me T-shirts from different places. I tried to forget how amazing it was that this teenaged girl was so comfortable with who she was. I tried to forget that I wanted so much to follow in her footsteps and out myself. But, alas, I was 15, a victim of religiousness, Southern upbringing, and being uncomfortable in my own skin. Ok- so back to the question at hand. Bonnie's boldness made me nervous. All I could think was, "She knows." So I quickly, quietly, and shakily said, "Yeah. Do you?" Her response was, "Oh yeah. When you think about it, who's it with?" Here I am again. Stuck in a mess. No idea how to answer this. So I say, "I don't know." She responds with, "Well, whenever I think about it, it's with you." I was shocked, scared, turned on, everything all at once. I looked at her, directly in the eyes, for only a split second. Then we just came together, kissing, hands everywhere. I had no idea what I was doing, I'm sure that kind of performance would be embarrassing now. All I remember is watching her face while I touched her. It was amazing. I remember the way she kissed so much differently than boys. I remember the wetness I felt in my hand. I remember hearing her breathe harder, whimpering, and the feeling on my fingers when she began to tighten around them. I remember thinking all night afterwards how amazing that is and that I want to do it again. Bonnie and I never did that again. Nowadays, she is straight, married, has a baby, and was never with another woman. That experience satisfied her curiosity. Not mine. I thought about it every day. I wondered how you find out if there are others like you. I wondered if I could ever be so bold as Bonnie to just ask. I looked at all of my friends, questioning is she like Bonnie? Or Denise? But it was wrong, I shouldn't. So, I tried to supress it. The first experience of course, still stands out in my mind. It was the turning point for me. It was the day I changed my thinking from maybe to definitely. I knew for sure after that experience, I enjoy women. I had thought for a long time that maybe I was just curious. Maybe I just THINK it would be great. Now I knew it was what I wanted. Yet I continued to push it out. I continued to press forward until I was 28 before coming out. Yes, I had a few secret lesbian affairs along the way. But those were secrets. We didn't tell. And now I tell. Why? Because I want to thank Denise for being an amazing role model. I wonder if she knew about me back then? Did she suspect me at all? Or was my big gay announcement a shock to her? I want to thank Bonnie for being so bold. I wonder if she has any idea what a difference that experience made in my life? I sometimes wonder if she ever told anybody about that night. She was a big mouth and couldn't keep even her own secrets. But I never heard from anyone about it. But I think most of all, I want to make sure that the few people I know who have chosen not to accept this part of my life understand, this is the true story. I didn't even know what being a lesbian was and I felt it. It was strongly there at 14 when we didn't talk about it. I didn't make a choice to be a lesbian. I made a choice to live proudly as one.