Fighting Within the GLBTQ Community is “Gay”

gay hate 2Last time i checked, the GLBT community wasn’t REALLY passing out toasters. Last time i checked, we weren’t required to have membership cards for our sexual preferences or any awards for JUST HOW GAY/BI/STRAIGHT/TRANS someone is. And if there is a newsletter or Facebook page displaying what is currently politically correct, please, sign me up, because frankly, all of this shit is confusing.

if one more person tries to tell me how i SHOULD be- I’m gonna flip my shit.
if one more person tries to tell me that i’m not THIS enough or THAT enough- I’m gonna flip my shit.
if one more person states how it IS- when it concerns MY LIFE- I’m gonna flip my shit.
if one more person changes the terminology of things on me- I’m gonna flip my shit.

THEN we have to worry about the P.C. and the gender police. and people telling me what is ok to say when I only just got used to saying things the way I did from the LAST time they told me what to say. Please stop, my brain has turned to Nutella.  I’m pretty sure you aren’t allowed to say ANYTHING anymore, it’s all sure to upset and offend someone.

I don’t remember getting a rule book when I came out over 15 years ago. I probably missed that class too.

Rather than sit there and TELL ME what to do and what NOT to do, maybe, JUST MAYBE, focus on living a happier life and focus on helping the community. maybe. JUST MAYBE, stop telling people what to do.

I remember when the only thing you had to be mindful of was not saying that something was “GAY” to refer to something negative. Now, the list is never-ending. The following list is just a sampling compiled from my Facebook Friends-

“i hate fags.” “she’s a big dyke.” “he’s not manly enough.” “her hair is too short, she has to be a lesbian.” “she should just come out of the closet already.” “it’s totally a guy- just look at IT’s hands.” “bisexuality doesn’t exist.” “i’m a gay man, and i still hate fags.” “i only date girly girls.” “shemales.” “he’s flaming.” “she’s only a lesbian because she never had good dick.” “i hate straight men.” “he’ll never pass as a guy.” “being bisexual just means you are confused and can’t commit.” “he has boobs.” “Cis privilege.” “what the fuck is CIS gender anyways?” “i don’t need any straight people on my side.” “Bisexuals need to pick a side, already.” “I hate the whole gay rainbow thing.” “bunch of fucking tranny queers.” “nelly fag.” “i don’t date HIV+ guys.” “the trans community needs to stop riding the coattails of the Gay Community.” “i bet HE takes it up the ass.” “gay for pay.” “the word TRANNY is an insult, DON’T say it.” “he’s just a man in a dress.” “the whole uhaul joke.” “is pansexual a REAL thing? i’ve never heard of it.” “since you are bi, you can’t be faithful or monogamous, because you’ll always want the other side.” “aren’t all transexuals just cross dressers?” “they’re straight. what do they know?”
“trans people don’t belong in the community, because it’s a gender NOT a preference.” “if you are trans, you shouldn’t be stealth. you should always be trans.” “she’s only doing it for attention.”

WHO MAKES THIS SHIT UP? you know who? we do. WE.DO. It’s bad enough to be called names and condemned by the closed minded people of the world, then we have to fight against people and organizations like the Westboro Baptist church- but now- we are FIGHTING WITH PEOPLE IN THE GLBTQ community. We need to STOP fighting with each other. Let’s take all of the wasted energy calling each other out and making useless rules to work together for a more supportive community.

gay hate


Taking Back “Tranny”

I am tackling the whole “TRANNY” issue, once and for all.


My mother used to let us swear as far back as I can remember because she always said that words were just words, and it is true. Words ARE JUST words. People give power and meaning to words, they do nothing on their own.  Without added emotion, feelings, and images to represent it, a word is just a bunch of letters hanging out together.

If the word is meant in an insulting way then, yes, it is negative. No one wants to hear kids saying “that’s so gay” when they don’t even know what they are saying. But I’m talking about people making the blanket statement that “TRANNY” is a bad word, because, no, it isn’t.  “Tranny” is the shortened form of “transgender” and also “transvestite” which are indeed two different things.  I can assume and understand that a transgender person doesn’t want to be labeled incorrectly as a transvestite, but neither term should be considered offensive; neither should cause embarrassment, shame or anger if applied incorrectly by mistake. Now, I’m not sure when using the term “TRANNY” became shameful or insulting, but just even within the last two weeks, I have been told more than a dozen times by a handful of different people that it is.

You can make ANY word positive or negative. What you CANT DO is TELL ME that the word is wrong based on YOUR opinion, because, to me, that says that YOU have a problem with the word. And I’m not even using the argument of “only trans people can say it”  like the whole “only black people can say ‘nigger'”. Yes. The word has very nasty negativity behind it. I personally flinched every single time it was used in Django Unchained, because it was MEANT to be demeaning. It was SUPPOSED TO BE NEGATIVE. But if someone wants to reclaim the word and USE IT TO BE EMPOWERING- who are YOU to stop them? Who are you to tell someone that a word is wrong or right, positive or negative?


These words have been RECLAIMED. And fucking rightly so. Many hate crimes have resulted and much blood has been lost over WORDS. These words STAND FOR THE FIGHT. They say “I WONT BE FUCKED WITH ANYMORE.” They say, “I used to be afraid. I used to hate hearing someone call me FAG, but I WONT LET ANYONE BULLY ME ANYMORE. I am a fag. and I am proud to be a fag.”

Rupaul made the word “TRANNY” a household word, and for that I am grateful. Rupaul fought her way to the top. It is NOT YOUR PLACE to tell her that she can’t be proud to use the word TRANNY. It’s NOT YOUR PLACE to take away someone’s hard fought battles. It is NOT YOUR PLACE to put people back in the closet, or back to being afraid to walk down the street wearing whatever they want. Even if you are trans, IT IS NOT YOUR PLACE to take away someone’s courage and strength. If you are offended by TRANNY, then maybe change how YOU look at the word before you EXPECT everyone else to be offended by it. Instead of being afraid of words- look to those that HAVE ACTUALLY SUFFERED to earn the RIGHT to be fags, homos, dykes, queers and yes, even TRANNYS.



Hey, I Just Met You and This is Crazy- Let’s Get Matching Tattoos!

i’ve been thinking a lot about friendship lately, like everyone does.  i have friends, good ones, and i think we all have those too.  but i want more, i need  more.  i’m a flaming disaster of an extrovert, an attention whore of the highest degree.  my days start and and with friends.  friends!  friends! friends!!!!!

friendsi make friends easily, i always have, but i’m VERY particular with who i keep in my innermost circle, so find myself alone more often than not.  but, i have to say, i’d rather have THE ONE, the PERFECT friend, than 519 Facebook-style surface friends.  i need people that can handle my obnoxiousness, loud cackling and oftentimes embarrassing antics.  i swear A LOT, have EXTREMELY strong opinions and there are no off-limit topics.  i think and live completely outside of the box and instead of black and white, i see the world in rainbow and greys.  although i can mix with really any kind of person or group, i don’t really belong anywhere, and this is probably why friend-finding is always so challenging.

verucabut i don’t want just ONE friend, i want ALL of the friends RIGHT NOW.  i want a herd of fourteen bridesmaids that are “totes my bffs”, and fight over who will throw me a shower.  i want a crowd of buddies that rent limos and go bar hopping or compete in weight loss contests, or sit around planning camping trips and vacations.   is it too much to want to frolic with a bunch of people in a fountain, for godsake?  but as it stands there are no pizza parties, jet ski rentals or fun runs planned. nothing.  but really, i honestly hate most of that jazz, (especially the herd of bridesmaids) and i’m happier surrounding myself with people that openly discuss bodily functions and find different ways to shock each other.

the friends that i do have text me throughout the day and we occasionally get drunk together at each other’s homes, and i’m actually very cool with that.  but i definitely need more buddies after the last big Friend Exodus of 2013.  those were some sad times indeed.  i have had the experience that once my friends start intermingling, they tend to start sleeping together, or at least seeing each other more than me, and i’m all but forgotten.  it’s best to keep a good and overflowing pool of people, so that when a few start to migrate, i’m not stuck going to pottery class solo, or forced to eat the Super Loaded Fries for Two by myself.  cause i will!  i’ll do it!  JUST WATCH!

harry ron hermioniebut how do you find these people?  how does a person amass large groups of friends at one time?  i want to be back in kindergarten where everyone at your table was your friend.  you didn’t have much choice, this was your main social circle. you just were friends because, well, just because.  or in first grade, your friends were assigned to you alphabetically, and if you were lucky enough to not move every couple of years like my family, the kids that were assigned seats near you JUST based on last names alone, continued to be your friends for a long long LONG time.  second and third grade you were force-sorted into interacting with “Good Readers”  or “Bad With Math” which is where i spent most of my days.
heathersthe years went on, and you meshed better with kids that were in the same activities as you, or carried Star Wars lunchboxes, and this was before anyone cared that you were a GIRL with a Star Wars lunchbox.  and college you hung out with people that liked the same music or had the same art posters on their walls. the point is, it wasn’t hard to meet people- you just migrated to people that liked the same stuff.  now you have to worry about political affiliations, religious preferences, intolerance based on sexual preference, income, status, your favorite football team….  it’s definitely not easy and i have tried it all, meet, online groups, bars, local clubs- and there are just as many people out that that want the same thing- to meet other people- but what is it that bonds them together?  what do you say to take that next step to “friendship” without looking creepy?  how do you get people to actually get off their couches, out of their comfort zone and into wearing matching outfits and tattoos with you?  you wanna be my friend?

thelma and louise selfie


Lucas and a Snowman

i’m typing.  my son is across from me in the burgundy “old people-style” armchair, reading.  you would look at me and think that i am nervously tapping my foot, but what i’m actually doing is bumping my foot into the dog, basically kicking her.  now, i’m not kicking her out of anger, she likes it.  it’s attention, and if there is one thing this orange beast likes, it’s attention.  she keeps moving her body around so that i knock into where she wants.  when my leg becomes tired, she tries to give me her paw to make sure i don’t stop jostling my foot up and down, as if this a bribe to sweeten the deal.  the hound-y black dog is happily hiding under the comforter at my son’s feet, and you wouldn’t know she was there except for her loud snoring.

my son looks up from his book and asks me questions about cooking and how i prepared the meatloaf we are having for dinner.  i’m proud that he has taken an interest in cooking, something that i never expected to happen, and now encourage and nurture every chance i get.   we joke and laugh, in our usual way, trying to one up each other with insults, but knowing that we really do enjoy each other’s company.

the sun is quickly leaving us for another day, and the moon is pushing its way back up through the sky.  the snow covered yard is still brilliant white, almost glowing, untouched by boots or pets.  i contemplate the effort it would take to build a snowman.

“it’s dark as hell in here”, my son announces.
“then turn on the lamps, Einstein,” i respond.

he switches on the lights, disrupting the hidden dog at his feet, but the lamps do little more than turn the room a deep burnt orange.  my mind wanders and i stare again out the window at the snow, thinking how happy i am to be cozy in my jammies.  i think to myself that there are few things better than meatloaf, a warm home with lots of puffy blankets, a kid that loves you and two quiet (although cranky) dogs.  i smile and my son grimaces playfully, sneering at my unspoken sentiment, yet wordlessly agreeing.  i wish for Lucas to be here and out of the cold machine shop where he’ll be for another seven and a half hours.  i wish he was home.  i sip my hot tea, blood orange zinging my lips and feel extremely blessed; missing only Lucas.

it is full dark out now.  the street is extra quiet as if the bitter cold has consumed the barky dogs, chirping children and rumbling scraping snow shovels.  most pittsburghers are probably home now, making their own meatloaves and drinking tea, warm and cozy

glad for another January day marked off the calendar.  families are chattering about, laying in front of the tv, reading the paper, doing their nightly routines, cluelessly unaware that my family isn’t all together and that Lucas still has seven hours left in a noisy machine shop.
the night moves slowly on, and still, hours to go, and the same quiet neighborhood, perfect glistening yard, still no Lucas, and still, no snowman.


The New Phonebook Is Here! The New Phonebook Is Here!

so, i’m still a bit new to the world of blogging (under 4 months of actual writing), i mean, i’ve had a livejournal forever, but that was mostly just friends reading it, so if i just wanted to post a long string of cursewords i could. not saying that i ever did, but still, i could have if i wanted to. ok. so i did. i posted long strings of cursewords one time. or five or six. whatevs. but MY POINT- is that i had a captive audience for my writing, and most of them would have blown smoke up my ass and told me my writing was “awesome” or “so good” even if i had typed out “turdfart cacadoodoo”, so they weren’t always the best critics. when i got bold enough to take my writing elsewhere and asked people to give me their honest opinions, still, i only got “i liked that”, “that was good”, “you are a good writer”. THOSE ARE NOT REVIEWS THAT I CAN LIVE WITH.

so i joined the billions of you wordpress bloggers and jumped in- WITH BOTH FEET. i am technologically backwards, afraid of things imbedded with microchips and too stupid to read instructions or directions. so. i figure, creating this and my other blogs was akin to changing brakes and rotors on a car, sewing a wedding dress and giving birth to triplets all rolled into one. if it was easy for you- feel free to gloat for ten minutes and then bite me.

i’m currently second (and third) guessing myself about everything, along with deciding how important it is for me to have a large following or if i care if anyone reads me at all. you know, the same struggles all writers face constantly. am i an artist? or an author? or do i want to sell out? am i worried about making money from writing or is releasing my inner word demon enough? questions, questions, questions.

so i was thinking on all of this and looking at my stats and feeling happy enough with the hits that i was getting, knowing that most were actually humans (as opposed to in the very beginning when all of my “followers” might as well have been a big ol viagra ad or caspar the friendly ghost). so i have some readers and some actual followers. hell, i even had some comments that weren’t just bloggers phishing for hits on their sites. it was nice. and then i see that i am nominated for an award. COOL BEANS! at this moment, i don’t even care if it’s only because no one knows about me and the very lovely lady that nominated me just randomly flipped through and found me– it’s still a connection in this blogosphere- and at the bottom of it all, that’s really all i want. connections. so—— having said all of that- i’m doing my part for the Liebster Award dealie. maybe someone can finally help me figure out how to add badges and awards to my blog- because god forbid i should read and learn how to do it myself… any takers? beueller? beueller?

and now…. THE RULES…. *cue sinister music*
1. Thank the person who nominated you and link to their blog.
2. You must answer the 10 questions given to you by the nominee before you.
3. You must nominate 10 of your favorite blogs with fewer than 200 followers and notify them of their nomination.
4. You must come up with 10 questions for your nominees to answer.

my thanks-
anywho- thanks to the very lovely lady from Fonts and Frosting for finding me and giving me a little exposure! *virtual kisses*

my answers-
1. Your favorite colour. But you have to be creative in describing it – without using the word.
my favorite color strays from ROY G BIV, combining the deepness of the sky with lush verdant foliage to create proud peacock eyes, tropical ocean skyline, jewel-toned flowers.

2. Books or TV?
ohmigod…. OBVIOUSLY books. anyone that says tv over books should be boiled in their own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart…

3. The best surprise you’ve ever had
best surprise- was a weekend trip to Cedar Point and Kalahari for my birthday last year with some of my favorite people. it was an AMAZING trip. completely unforgettable. UN.fucking.FORGETTABLE.

4. Favorite character on The Big Bang Theory. If you don’t watch it (shame on you), then tell me your what favorite series is.
nope- don’t watch Big Band Theory- sorry. i’m just not a tv person. i have been known to binge watch some series show though– Game of Thrones (i love that nasty ol’ joffry) and used to enjoy Six Feet Under and Nip/Tuck, Ru Paul’s Drag Race. BUT. truth be told- my favorite show has always been THE SIMPSONS… and my favorite character is and always will be Mr. Burns. no shame.

5. Sweet or savory?
undoubtedly both. together whenever possible. trail mix, dates in couscous, granny smith apples in stuffing..yum yum!

6. If you could have a photo with absolutely anyone in the world, who would it be?
i’m not big on celebrities, but i WOULD love to get a picture with Padma Lakshmi and Tom Colicchio from Top Chef.. again, no shame.

7. Safari or beach holiday?
i’ve been to the beach a million times and would go back a million more. ideally i’d love to get one of those personal cabanas and order up some froofy drinks in a pineapple and get sloppy drunk and make out with my boyfriend. i’m a really simple kind of gal.

8. Your biggest indulgence?
hrm. we’re an extremely frugal family, so anytime i buy ANYTHING that isn’t necessity- i consider it indulgent.

9. Summer or Winter?
fall. definitely. undoubtedly. 😉

10. Your travel destination of choice.
one day, when i’m a wealthy retired gajillionaire- we’re renting a fully loaded winnebago and driving cross country. i want to stop at all of the tourist traps and sit in the hot springs and see the stars from as many different points of the united states as possible. can’t wait!

my apologies-
alas, time is short and it is date nite and i have a delicious dinner of baked gnocchi, bread and salad and my beloved waiting for me… i shall finish this tomorrow! more for later!


Time, Life and My Beautiful He

I let reality wake me this morning. with my head still on the pillow, crystallized white shimmers twinkled and flew by the window. warm face on a warmer pillow, i listened to the gentle resting breaths of the person beside me. so familiar was the face, so connected are our lives, so much in love with the human form next to me.

endlessly dripping toilet. the hum of the refrigerator. clicking heater. home sounds. tucking my feet under extra folds of crinkly cotton comforter, i listen to the scree-ing of branches scraping the frosted windows. outside winter was celebrating with another round of snow, ice and blasting shivering cold. i inhaled deeply, my nose not yet cleared from the dryness of a blowing furnace-warmed room, and placed a hand on the muscled flesh beside me. scattered freckles, dry, overworked hands, prickle stubbled face. bright white cotton tee shirt holding it all in, giving his shoulders, arm and back soft comfort.

my hair is constructed into its usual bun. my face is worn and weather beaten. dry. dry. everything is dry. parched lips, craving bubblegum or lemonade flavored lip balm. tired eyes. i am not the age of my body. too many pounds, muscles unused, neglectful habits, under appreciated flesh. overeager mind trapped in an ungainly, unworkable body. my eyes trying to answer the questions my brain seeks.

“why does he love me?”
“am i good enough?
“am i deserving?”
“how did i get so lucky?”

nine years. nine years of a combined life with this freckly person next to me. short hair, always short, the color of champagne after it has lost it’s bubble. lines of worry, denting his beautiful face, caused by money stress, job stress, responsibility stress, too-much-on-his-shoulders stress, it-has-to-get-better stress. i wonder if those weathered lines will disappear when the money worry is gone. will mother nature erase the damage? will she unfold the creases? will she show kindness on a weary face? does life apologize to those who have tried so hard to succeed? we never get the chance to go back, those that have suffered, those who wade through life’s shit; those among the others in the world that carve our paths through stone.

my mind goes through the TO DO list for today, turning pages as in a child’s flip book. and i glance over at him again, stealing just one more moment of his quiet beauty.