Conversation With Myself

it’s been awhile since i did a mental check up/life evaluation and i said i would make sure to take time to keep myself focused on myself during this whole transition thing- it’s overdue.

i’ve been so busy writing advocate pieces and throwing articles to different sites that i just haven’t even had a chance to braindump in a very long time.   i made and donated a few mosaic pieces to an art show at the GLCC- and succumbed to peer pressure to start an Etsy site.  now i need to do a logo and Pinterest that- and all of that social media hullaballoo for that.  my laptop had a wicked rotten virus, but, i actually fixed things myself- that NEVER happens!  i’m pretty excited about it!  we did a whole bunch of new (to us) things with the different GLBTQ groups, including a FASHION SWAP, trans partner support group and a lecture on HATE CRIMES.   i set up a Gofundme account for bf’s top surgery and have been working on a bunch of fundraisers for that.  Sonnyboy got a job- thank god- so that stress is FINALLY off my shoulders and i FINALLY feel like i can relax a tiny bit.  i’ve been filling out a lot of apps and going on stupid interviews with places that i don’t belong… it’s been horrible.  but through it all, i keep looking towards better days- credit cards gone, car paid off, vacation, breathing room……. *sigh*

i certainly haven’t gone to the gym enough and working out at home is usually ignored- but i’m working on that…. it just always seems the easiest thing to fall by the wayside, when meanwhile it should be the most important…  in fact i think i’m going to go crawl onto the couch and fall asleep.


Well Placed Words

writei absolutely love words. letters and words.  not so much sentences, but letters and words excite me.  i would suppose that’s why i write in fragments so often.  i feel like words convey as much as a sentence can, and there doesn’t always need to be a filler like “the” or even nitpicky punctuation. words fill your mind with ideas, and usually people skim enough that they don’t need grammar and all of its trappings.   sure, there’s a time when a perfectly formed sentence can really add to the fluff and polish, but then again, sometimes…. just a word can do just as much….

for instance….

LOVE.  KISS.  SEX.  WARM.    just those words on their own can definitely make a statement.  and who doesn’t love some well placed words?

Message in a Bacardi Bottle

i would have to think that if i was laying on the beach and a bottle washed up that the ONLY possible reason i was there would be working as a maid at some swanky resort in the tropics.  so basically, this scenario sucks ass.

i clean for a living, the disgusting crusty remains of dirty dishes, unspeakable toilets, endless pet hair, constant stuff everywhere, every day.  it’s like not leaving home. it’s like picking up everyone’s bath towels and putting the toilet paper ONTO the dispenser- about thirty times a week and it’s wiping ramen noodle spice packet dust and coffee residue from six or seven counters weekly.  countless shoes and pillows put in their correct places, endless crevices to be vacuumed, cobwebs galore, constantly and all week.  so, it might seem that moving all of this “fun” to someplace seaside or tropical might be nice.

pina coladai imagine, i’m there in my hawaiian print shirt and turquoise cotton work pants, wandering the beach side cabanas, cleaning up after honeymooners and spoiled people that don’t know how much i’d like to break one of the resorts hurricane glasses and shank them with it.  these lovey dovey couples don’t realize just HOW CLOSE they are to me bashing them in the head with the bar’s novelty coconut shells. they are making out and dropping drink umbrellas, cherry stems and condom wrappers all over the place for me to clean up.COCONUT

i can hear them giggling and grunting and groaning, not hidden by the bamboo “privacy screens” as i fold the seven thousandth bleached beach towel into yet another fucking swan.  i pick up trays of half eaten strawberries and pretend these jerks aren’t sucking each other’s faces like an octopus sucks mollusks from their shells.  i walk quiety by leathery brown tourists snapping their fingers for more champagne and fruit platters, squirting each other with cocoa butter and KY like NO ONE has to clean that crap up.  i replace the newly folded swan towel next to a dry-humping, drunk couple that are feeding each other chunks of pineapple, and the couple immediately picks up the towel to sop the runny juice from their faces, giggling, only to then drop it to the ground to  possibly later to use a rag for their “love juices.”  yuck.

the heat is getting to me as well as the squeals and ecstatic giggling, so i wander away from the cabanas and notice trash in the water.  i walk towards it expecting more condom wrappers or even the usual bikini bottom and realize that it’s just a bottle.  from as far away as i am, i can’t tell if it’s an empty bottle of lube or booze; either way, as “Housekeeping”, it’s my damn job to pick up litter like i’m some golden garbageman in paradise.

Bacardi_Light_Rum_1_75_L_1_75Li make my way  through the honey colored sand, littered with bits of shells, ground up pieces of old hotel guests’ credit cards, and porsche glass, and stop to pick up the bottle, ready to chuck into the jewel encrusted trash bucket i’m carrying.

“what’s this, i ask to myself,  “a cliche’d message in a bottle?  who’da thunk?  how novel!”  i glance around nervously before i open the dirty old bacardi bottle, wondering what hotel protocol is for “lost beach articles.”   i chomp-pull out the crammed in cork with my teeth like a pirate, uncaring what people might say if they saw.  i pull out the rolled up note and park myself on a nearby lounge chair, figuring it will be some gag from one of the local kids.  as jaded as i am, i’m still excitedly curious and unroll the note, expecting a Target receipt, an expired Dunkin Donut coupon or at best, a menu from Polly’s Tropicano Pizza Hut.

i slowly read the note, and then read it again, this time, out loud, not believing the scrawly inky words that are in front of me.  it is a will.  “Last Will and Testament of Sir Bubbaloo DePaulo“, the island’s richest resident and he has written that he will bestow the entire island along with all of his riches and money to the finder of this note.  !!!!  i cannot believe it!!!  some luck for once! i dance through the sand, kicking up waves lapping my feet.  i am ecstatic!  i turn and head towards one of the vacationers that is yelling at me for more Rum Runners and dump the ice bucket right on his pretentious asshole head.

“FUCK THIS SHIT!  I’M RICH! and i am OUT OF HERE!”  i yell to his startled and sputtering wife, who just happens to be the color of a bucket of extra crispy KFC. i tear off my uniform, hideous turquoise scrub bottoms and all, leaving me in just my hole-y zebra print underpants and matching ill-fitting bra to run like hell back to the hotel.  i can’t believe my luck, my new fantastic life is about to begin!

“I OWN THIS FUCKING ISLAND, YOU DIPSHIT OVERPRIVELEDGED SNOTTY ASSHOLES!  so get the FUCK off my beach and get real jobs!”   laughing, i grab a pitcher of pina coladas off of serving tray and chug the whole damn thing!

i jubilantly run and run—- (A SPLASH!) a bucket of ice water is dumped onto my head, snapping me back to reality.

“Hey! Lady?  are you okay? ” someone asks.

i look around and see that i’m laying in the sand, probably drunk off the pitcher of pina coladas.  no matter, I’M RICH and drunk on the pina coladas from the ISLAND THAT I OWN, mother fuckers!!!!  a circle of people are gathered and staring at me as if i was a rabid animal and worried that i might strike again.

i look down and someone hands me a towel to cover up my nonsensical and unsexy zebra print under-garments.  i start to yell at everyone to get away from the new queen of the island when my boss wanders up, looking super pissed.

he starts yelling at me in his broken english “Mister Morales say you make fun of wife and dump ice on head. You are fired, yoong lady! get OUT!”

i pull myself up and start to yell at him about the newsflash he obviously missed, about me being the new SUPREME RULER of the island, when i reach up to touch a horrible swelling spot on my forehead.  looking down i notice a bacardi bottle, the note missing, just as a plate of crab claws, shrimp tails and lemon wedges rains down onto my head, courtesy of Ms. Bucket of KFC, Extra Crispy.  cocktail sauce oozes down the side of my face as my coworker explains to me that i suffered some sort of heatstroke and flipped out on Mr Morales and his fried chicken-colored wife, so he cracked me in the head with a bacardi bottle and i passed out.

soooooooooo apparently, i guess, it’s back to cleaning toilets in pittsburgh, no thanks to Sir Bubbaloo DePaulo, which may or may not be the name of my friend’s pomeranian and NOT the richest man on an island somewhere.

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.


A Little Help From My Friennnnnnnds…….

cross your mindHello Fellow Blog-a-teers!

not that ANYONE really actually follows my blog, but, i’m going to go ahead and pretend like a have a vast following of hardcore fans that sit around all shaky, jittery and salivating until i update my blogs…. having said that- i’ll say-i am finally getting around to doing the second part of the Liebster Award bloggy dealie. you’ll remember the first part at my extremely humorous and deeply touching and bone-baring post-

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

try to contain yourselves friends…. *holds worshipping fans back like walmart shoppers on black friday*   there’s plenty of me to go around… and i’m not exaggerating.  PLENTY.OF.ME. no shoving!  and please, please.  no more flowers, fan mail and stuffed animals!  it’s embarrassing!  my boyfriend is getting jealous from all of the marriage proposals and Heart of the Ocean-sized jewels that arrive at our house, daily…. instead- why not donate that money to a charitable organization- like a neighborhood food pantry or local homeless shelter!  do it for me, willya?

(*all ONE of my actual fans applauds wildly*)  I LOVE ALL OF THE ONE OF YOU SO, SO, SO VERY VERY MUCH!!!!! *bows graciously*

so.  a recap of the rules–*cue sinister music*

1. Thank the person who nominated you and link to their blog.
i thanked the very lovely lady from Fonts and Frosting for finding me and giving my blog some love! *more virtual kisses*
2. You must answer the 10 questions given to you by the nominee before you.
i answered my questions- and had a great time doing it.  no animals were harmed during that portion of my blog.
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.

without further ado- i am presenting my adorable, lovely, creative, talented, eloquent and downright sexy bloggy virtual family!  *throws confetti*


  1. a delightful, insightful blog, Anawnimiss, reminds me of myself and makes me think i could be more put together if i was like this gal.  alas, i am not.  so thank god for people like her. (it gives me hope)
  2. Coffee Crumbs feels like a fun little spot to go and check out what this gal is doing from time to time.  it would be lovely to see more crumbs from her!
  3. Dysfunction Diaries is a great place to go and read about how the ‘other half’ lives…. you know, where i live.  where moms aren’t always at pilates and cutting sandwiches into hearts or talking about the lord as if he was sitting in the passenger seat of your car.
  4. most times you don’t get to see what the CRAZY in “crazy” dating experiences look like—-  you can here…. this guy has as bad of luck as me- all of the weirdest things happen to him….
  5. Sniderwriter– reading this blog helps me pretend that i am young, cool and hip.  one of these things- I AM DEFINITELY NOT… the other 2 things (cool and hip), i fake as much as possible.  i wish the author would post more often because i enjoy her quirk and bloody-style fun a lot!
  6. it is very enjoyable and exciting to get in on the ground floor of writers starting out on new write-ventures, books and stories.  i enjoy peeking in this “occasional feminist”‘s brain and seeing what she can pull out.  i look forward to following her on her journey.  everybody- meet K. A. MacKinnon!  *waves*

now- as a disclaimer of sorts–  i live an alternative lifestyle, as i am a brazen bisexual, partnered and in love with a transgendered guy; i’m not a “vanilla sex” type of gal.  having said this, the next bunch of blogs may not be for everyone—- but, if you live outside the lines like me, in the rainbowland beyond black and white (and grey)- you’ll probably enjoy these blogs too.

  1. sometimes you need a little trip to the sexydark corners of the blogosphere.  Mystics Mindfuck is a not-so-secret invitation into the mind and bedroom of a lesbian that isn’t afraid to share- and even will answer your private questions.  very nice!
  2. it’s hard to be the new kid in school, but when you are weirdly different kid, it’s a pretty miserable situation.  if you are lucky enough to ever spy someone that is weird like you, maybe at recess, or in a different grade, it gives you hope, hope that you aren’t alone, and you aren’t the “only one.”  The Transparent Couple is a wonderful little mirrored microscope into one of the situations i currently have in my life.  i have a newly transitioning partner, and we are slowly making our way through the weird, unusual, abnormal things you deal with, as well as the day to day bullshit everyone faces.  it’s nice to find a little bit of yourself somewhere else in this giant blogosphere.  i’m happy to have found them.
  3. yummyrotica is the last stop in our tour of the un-vanilla and cozy pockets of sexy deliciousness—-what kind of mother would i be if i didn’t shamelessly tried to promote my other blog, hmmmmmmm? it’s been dormant for a bit, but, i plan to bring it back to life soon.  this little lovely piece of the internet is a place for sex positive writing focusing on the GLBTQ community and their allies.  take a peek if you are so inclined. you know you wanna….. feel free to submit some juicy goodness if you dare.

the ten questions?

  1. what is your favorite song RIGHT NOW?  i’m always looking for new twists in my playlists.
  2. as a blogger, do you consider yourself an “OPEN BOOK”? or do you only show the parts of you and your life that you are willing to share?
  3. if you were a piece of chocolate in one of those giant boxes of assorted chocolates- which would it be, and why? (no need to over think this one, i’m just currently enjoying a nice assortment of chocolates…*lol*)
  4. what is your favorite go to book that you recommend to anyone that asks?
  5. what is the current temperature where you are right now?  (it’s -6 farenheit, here, so i’m curious about you guys.)
  6. what five ACTUAL things can you not live without?  (ACTUAL TANGIBLE OBJECTS)
  7. what five intangible things can you not live without?
  8. of the aforementioned ten things you listed above, which would you choose over the other— i.e., you can ONLY HAVE the tangible objects OR the intangible ones– which would you take—
  9. if you were to create an interesting cupcake flavor, what would it be?
  10. i dont capitalize the beginnings of most of my sentences and have my own unique writing and punctuation style.  do you think that is a good or bad thing?  do you think i could be a successful writer by not following mainstream writing “rules?”

thanks for playing, kiddos!  there is a badge for this award somewhere- but i’m not adept at that kind of thing yet- so feel free to look it up if you wanted to add it to your page.  or be lazy like me- no one will judge you.  at least i won’t.  at any rate- i’m happy to have you on board my crazy double-decker bus of blogging love!

*Miss Theresa Wordwhore*

My Name is Theresa and I’m an Addict…

Hi.  my name is Theresa and i’m an addict.

(in droning monotous voice) “hi theresa”.

it has been three days….  three days since-

“go ahead, theresa, you can say it.”

it has been three days since.. *deep sigh*  i watched a Christmas movie.

that’s right.  i’m a Christmas movie addict.  i’m not proud of it.  i guess it all started with Rudolph.  back in the days before dvds or even vcrs, you relied on TV GUIDE to tell you what shows were on and when.  a few weeks before Christmas my mother would read us the listings for all of the classic holiday favorites- Rudolph, Frosty, Charlie Brown; and we would nearly pee our jammies in anticipation.  Christmas movies were so precious and special because you got ONE and only ONE CHANCE to see them a year.  that’s pretty serious shit.  even after most families got cable, you still only had a limited amount of time to get your fix of stop/start animation filled with freaky jittery characters cavorting and singing terrible yet catchy tunes.  mmmmmm…..  Heatmiser, Snowmiser, the Burgermeister…  we grew up with them.  we hated them for trying to hold back Christmas, but we loved them for what they stood for.  they became a part of our traditions as much as overeating and our dad’s drunken capers.  we fired up as much of that Rankin-Bass goodness as we could in the short time we had.  we were hooked.   our hearts hurt when the credits rolled and you knew it would be an entire year before we would get another holiday high.  january left you empty.

the years moved on and Christmases came and went.  new movies were created and added to quiet our inner Grinches.  pretty soon, anyone in America with cable, a VCR and/or a DVD player could spend an entire afternoon speedballing everything from Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas to A Year WIthout a Santa Clause.  it became a part of our culture, of who we were; we became addicts.  it was nothing to mainline Frosty, Frosty’s Winter Wonderland and Frosty Returns in one bump.  you could even slam Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July, you know, if you were into that kind of thing.

every year was the same, i would get blazed and overdose on these beloved holiday movies and then spend an entire year in withdrawal- jonesing for more festive frivolity.  from the Muppets to Kris Kringle, we needed more and more and more AND MORE doses of yuletide cheer.  eventually TBS did something never done before- they decided to run Christmas Story for twenty-four hours in a row and became the ultimate enabler for holiday movie junkies like myself.  many a Christmas i spent locked in my bedroom, for hours on end, fixing on the antics of Master Ralph Parker and his Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two Hundred Shot Range Model Air Rifle.

now here i am, forty years old, with a 19 year old son, and there are more holiday movies than ever, so i can blaze up hours of sweet, pure Christmas joy as soon as Thanksgiving is over.

my boyfriend said that i had a problem.  he said that it’s time to put the dvds away for the year.  but maybe i’m not the one with the problem, maybe HE’S the one with the problem.  its just a movie, is all.  so what that it’s been a month since Christmas?  i’m just going to spark up National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, just one more time.  who doesn’t love Aunt Bethany?  she’s hilarious!  so what if i had Muppets’ Christmas Carol on repeat four times in a row?  it doesn’t mean anything.   i’m not hurting anyone.  it takes the edge off, man.  i need it, i need it to relax.  just one more.    just one more.  i’m just going slip in Santa Clause is Coming to Town-

i don’t have a problem.  i can quit anytime i want.  DON’T YOU DARE JUDGE ME.  i chose this life, i don’t want your pity.

i need it.


on day 211 in the year 2014, i hope to have all of our credit cards paid off.  this is less of a dream and actually quite attainable as we have been using one of those credit counselingdebt programs for the last few years and are finally in the homestretch.  by july 30, i should also have my car paid off- WOO-FUCKIN-HOO!  so clearly, we’ll be doing monespend all the moneyy angels on the floor (think snow angels, but in giant piles of crisp twenty dollar bills)!  this will free up about $800-  *mind boggles*… i’m practically salivating thinking about all of that money!

we have been so behind on bills and so far in over our heads in debt for so long- there just still doesn’t even seem to be a light at the end of our impoverished tunnel, but it’s there.  we live paycheck to paycheck, day to day, on a budget of under $400 a month for groceries for a family of three and with ZERO frills in life.  we don’t go out to movies or out to restaurants,  we don’t have fancy cars and don’t have even cable.  hell, we use our neighbor’s internet connection for fucksake.  i can’t remember the last time i bought clothes or shoes and my bras have been reduced to basically some material attached to a string- the elasticity is all but gone.

easter candywe celebrated Thriftmas this year and didn’t spend a penny on anything other than Christmas dinner.  my boyfriend works overtime and i’m working on a second job.  i don’t know how we got so broke- but here we are.  the thought of $800 elevates my heart rate and i honestly get giddy!  i’m not looking at $800 a month for blowing on vacations or ridiculously unnecessary designer bags or clothes, but i WOULD like to buy some new underpants and i’d die of ecstasy to buy a new pair of jeans (i currently only have two pair and i alternate them every day- all week).  we aren’t going to go buy new phones or iPads or even ANY sort of technology, but it will be GLORIOUS to be able to buy MILK ANY TIME WE WANT.  oh.  it will be heaven.

we don’t have netflix or a dvr-thingy.   we borrow dvds from friends and get books from the library.  we play board games and make our own pizzas from scratch.  but these are things we enjoy, so that aspect of our lives won’t change.  but it will be SO AMAZING to say- “let’s go out to chinese” and just go.  it will be nice not to go into a panic when our brakes get squealy, or have a full blown panic attack when an appliance goes on the fritz.  OH MY FUCK! I CAN GET A HAIRCUT BY A PROFESSIONAL AGAIN INSTEAD OF TRIMMING THIS SHAG RUG ON MY HEAD MYSELF!  oh happy day!!!!

we are used to getting by on nothing.  and i mean NOTHING, and that’s ok, we’ve made it this far on nothing.  we don’t need MUCH.  we don’t need all the bells and whistles and frills like most people and have survived for a very long time with NOTHING.  when we FINALLY get SOMETHING, we aren’t going to change, we just won’t need to scrounge and scrimp and forego EVERYTHING.  we can have SOME THINGS.

bath salts

life will change.  it will be so much easier in 190 days.  and better.  and if not, hell, with $800 extra a month?  we’ll just fucking BUY a better life.