I Can't Think of Anything to Write...

For those of you who don't know, Scott Vice, passed away last week. His funeral is this weekend. I am quite numb and angry and emotional in every way. I ache inside at his loss, and the thought of how precarious life is, and how I need to begin to tell the people around me how I love them... how all the bickering and pettiness is bullshit and so insignificant that it makes me sick... It doesn't matter who did what to whom or who said what... I want to begin again. Everything forgotten. Except a special guy who didn't have to leave us all so fucking soon.

Too bad it took this for me to put everything in perspective.

The Things You Keep

Some things you keep. Like good teeth. Warm coats. Bald husbands. They're good for you, reliable and practical and so sublime that to throw them away would make the garbage man a thief. So you hang on, because something old is sometimes better than something new, and what you know is often better than a stranger. These are my thoughts, they make me sound old, old and tame, and dull at a time when everybody else is risky and racy and flashing all that's new and improved in their lives. New careers, new thighs, new lips, new cars. The world is dizzy with trade-ins. I could keep track, but don't think I want to. I grew up in the fifties with practical parents - a mother, God bless her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it - and still does. A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones. They weren't poor, my parents, they were just satisfied. Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away.

I can see them now, Dad in trousers and tee shirt and Mom in a housedress, lawnmower in one's hand, dishtowel in the other's. It was a time for fixing things - a curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things you keep. It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, reheating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant there'd always be more.

But then my father died, and on that clear autumn night, in the chill of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any 'more.' Sometimes what you care about most gets all used up and goes away, never to return.

So, while you have it, it's best to love it and care for it and fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick. That's true for marriage and old cars and children with bad report cards and dogs with bad hips and aging parents. You keep them because they're worth it, because you're worth it. Some things you keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate you grew up with, there's just some things that make life important....people you know are special....and you KEEP them close!

OKAY!!! OKAY!!!

I know I have been bad guys. I have been spending a lot of time with a certain woman and having the time of my life, and can you really blame me??

But, seriously, things have been turned upside down lately. The Mom outted me to The Dad, officially a week ago and I am still adjusting to being "out" with my family. The Mom is fabulous, let me tell you. She was encouraging, although she doesn't think I am truly a lesbian. Her take on the whole thing is that whatever I am, I should be proud and shouldn't have to hide who I am from ANYONE. The Dad is doing well, although he misses me a lot since I am rarely home. He was mostly concerned with the places I frequent, about hate-crimes and the like. I don't blame him, I worry about that, too.

Other than that, my feet have been about an inch off the ground the last two weeks. Friday, the 19th, Lin, Sarah and I had a movie night, complete with Pizza, jammies and goodies. They had never seen Tomb Raider (which is a sin and they are going to hell). It was a wonderful time with two amazing women. Sarah reminds me a lot of a little Lorene... even this young, she is powerful and strong in herself, which is quite the credit to Lindi and her family. Saturday, the 20th, I spent some good time with Sarah, teaching her to make Baklava. The Meat-Fest at the Netzlers was WONDERFUL, as always, and it gave everyone a chance to meet Lin and Sarah. It warmed my heart to see the dearest people to my heart in one place. The fact that the Cancers all picked on the poor, solitary Virgo should be noted, however, as cruel and unusual punishment!! Sunday, the 21st, Lin and I took Sarah up to Catholic Summer Camp at Camp Tuttle in Big Cottonwood Canyon and spent the rest of the day together. Wednesday the 24th, she took me up to a great lookout spot on the East side and we watched fireworks and had wonderful conversation (seriously, guys).

Yesterday, Grace and I got together and went through storage boxes and sorted our things out. It was extremely emotional, but it was good. Going through the old memories kinda keeps me in perspective. Sometimes the ending of something is really the beginning of a road back to yourself, and the things you thought you lost, both physically and emotionally, you find in abundance. I found my treasures, pictures and poetry and memories galore. For all the problems G and I had, as we sorted through our things, I realized that our love was meant to happen, to learn from, and I wouldn't have traded it for anything. I think Grace felt the same way, especially when she thanked me for spending the last 7 years of my life with her. Ending a relationship, albeit painful, can be healing and nuturing in a strange way. Needless to say, my back, neck and legs are KILLING me... but it was worth it to see pictures of Lorene with 80's hair!!

Well, I am gonna run now, off to see Men In Black II with Lin and Sarah. Love to all!

CONGRATULATIONS TO DYLAN ON HIS NEW JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so proud of you, Big Goat!!!!!

Oh, What a Difference a Week Makes...

WARNING: This entry might be a little much for those who haven't been following my love-life adventures... continue to read ONLY if you have a strong stomach....

I know you are dying to know a little about what happened on Monday. I didn't elaborate before since events were unfolding rapidly and, frankly, I was having multiple feelings at odd times. Let me fill you in: A chic I was kinda-sorta seeing a couple weeks ago had basically asked me for another chance after breaking things off with me two weeks ago, then broke my heart 2 days later, on Monday at noon, but telling me she had decided to go back to her ex. So, the day sucked.

By the end of the day, however, I had a date with a new girl I had met on Saturday night, at her b-day party at The Paper Moon. Wow. She is awesome. After nursing my broken heart a bit, I went out with her on Tuesday, and we have been inseperable since. Her name is Lindi, and she is incredible. Lorene and JJ can tell you, I have been twitterpated this entire week. I went to her place on Thursday for a family b-day bbq, and met her family, ate hotdogs, sang and got in a grass-fight with her brother Bill. He won, and I want a rematch. Met up with her at her work (since she had to work until midnight) on Friday, had lunch with her on Saturday and met up with her Saturday Night at the Moon and danced the night away.

About her... about her...

She is 33, has a 13 year old girl named Sarah (who is a doll and loves me already because I am an AVON lady), has had 2 significant relationships, both long term - one for 7 years, one for 5. She is a Cancer, which thrills the other Cancers in my life to no end... and she treats me how I have always wanted to be treated.

I am so happy right now, I feel like I could burst. I even had a discussion with The Mom about my sexuality, which is very difficult, and I think in some ways she's regressing back to the "You're not a lesbian" stage. But you know, I need to have her understand me, and I want my relationships out in the open, not hidden away. I don't think I was strong enough in myself or in my womanhood to do that before, but I have found this incredible source inside my soul that says "Life is too fucking short to hide from your family". I want to share with The Mom how wonderful this woman is and how she makes me feel and I find myself stopping short because she wouldn't understand. How sick is that? I should be telling her everything... so I have been slowly introducing her to the idea, I have mentioned Lindi's name frequently and she knows without realizing that she is the girl I am seeing.

There is so much to tell, I can't even go into it. Obviously, if you want details, email me and I will be happy to spill.

I am taking her to The Melting Pot tomorrow night for a romantic date. She relented and is allowing me to take her out. I am so excited, I probably won't sleep tonight!

Well, wish me luck, you guys. This one is pretty fantastic and unreal. Almost too good to be true, I am waiting for someone to slap me awake.

The Wisdom of a Monday


This has been one of the worse Mondays I can ever remember. Work sucked, personal life is just a former shadow of itself and I am generally feeling smashed into ground meat-substance. It is amazing how out of a day like today, you can learn a lot about yourself. This is what I learned:

1. When you expect to hear an "I Told You So", your friends show their true colors and say "I am sorry you're hurting, but I am proud of you." I have pretty amazing friends.

2. Jennifer makes a mean cheese tortellini and is wonderful to lean on and girl-talk with.

3. Dee dreads ticks and fleas... for obvious reasons.

4. There are some days that simply require a beer at the local club with a friend... and they are called MONDAYS!

5. When you very least expect it, the girl you don't think will call, does; and the girl you thought would, doesn't.

6. A granola bar and a Diet Coke Super Big Gulp does NOT constitute lunch.

7. Self-confidence is walking into a room with touselled hair, smeared makeup and knowing you are the prettiest girl there because of how someone makes you feel.

8. Big dogs like to be hugged.

9. Sometimes you can be happy for the friend who gets to take "the girl" out instead of you.

...and the biggest thing I learned today:

10. A Woman knows when to hold her ground and fight.

A Lady knows when to gracefully walk away.

I love you all, thank you for helping me get through today.

See!! I Told You!!!!
excerpts from... The 24 things you never knew about single lesbians
Dany Johnson, Match.com

Let us examine that rare and exotic creature — the single lesbian. According to popular belief, lesbian couples shack up immediately after reaching their first orgasms together. This old stereotype has some basis in truth.

Back in the olden days, you might walk into your local bar and see the same three women sitting on the same three barstools every week. With such slim pickings, what are you gonna do?

Luckily, all this has changed. The dyke dating pool has grown by leaps and bounds. Scientifically speaking, it is said that lesbians generally engage in serial monogamy, with periods of serial single-osity in between. Our informal research has uncovered many fun and surprising facts about today's single lesbian. We have discovered that single lesbians…

Concoct the sexiest usernames for their free member profile.
Are very politically active. Meetings, rallies, community events — they're always running things.
Work out at the gym frequently, wearing body-conscious clothing.
Are likely to decorate their cars with rainbow accessories and off-color bumperstickers.
Spend their summers playing in five different softball leagues.
Cruise the WNBA games — Dyke Central!
Have occasional or frequent one night stands, sometimes with the ex.
Hit the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival or the Dinah Shore Classic with a carload of pals — and look for the first opportunity to ditch them!
Spend countless hours engaged in a quick search to find the perfect date.
Hang out at organic food stores. A high percentage of vegetarian lezzers makes the food coop the perfect place to meet unattached women.
Keep their wardrobes up to date. They're well put together and hot.
Sport lots of attractive tattoos and piercings. They get a new one each time they break up with someone.
Go to bars and clubs alone. They're more approachable that way.
Have a higher sex drive than married lesbians.
Frequent the magic store to stock up on "Call Me" incense and "Domination" floor wash.
Meet girls via their pets. The local dog run is always chock full of gays and lesbians. The single lesbian's favorite dog breeds are the pitbull and the Jack Russell terrier.
Always wear cute underwear, just in case.
Sleep with more cats than women. The average ratio is seven feline bed partners to every one human.
Often participate in fandom for such dykons as Angelina Jolie or that woman from ER.
Socialize more during June, Gay Pride month, than any other time of the year. Pride events bring non-stop dating opportunities.
Have extensive music and video collections. The perfect pretense for inviting someone over.
Love to workshop their writing, their acting, their genitals, whatever! If you do a workshop, they will come.
Know they don't have to settle for just anyone. Today's single dyke can afford to be as choosy as she wants to be.

There ya are, ladies. I am not crazy!

By Popular Demand, My Brief Thesis on...

LESBIAN STANDARD TIME! ©

Many of you, my friends and readers, have wondered why it is that lesbians in general seem to have a certain sense of time - different than boring-ass Heterosexuals. Because of this confusion, I shall attempt to explain how LST (Lesbian Standard Time) © works.

Events than normally take a longer period of time for heterosexuals, like meeting someone, dating, spending the night together, marriage, divorce, remarriage, divorce and remarriage, take a relatively short amount of time for lesbians. If you have dated a woman more than once, and I mean - count 'em - two dates, you are in a serious, committed relationship. It is possible to fall in love after a whopping 3 dates and to move in after 4 (or both if you've had a great night at a lesbian club).

Couples who are together for 5 years have reached their Silver Anniversary, and should be given lavish gifts. Rarely, couples will make it to their Golden Anniversary, 10 years in mere heterosexual time.

Okay, next... LST © also applies when getting ready for a date or when meeting someone at a club/bar/restaurant, but in an entirely different fashion. When a lesbian says, "I'll be there at 8-ish" what she really means is "I want you to wait for me starting at 8:00, but I will probably arrive around 9:30 and make a grand entrance" or "I will call you at 8:30 and tell you I can't make it, but have a good time." LST© is also directly corrolated with "Lorene Standard Time", obvious referrences avoided...

Feel free to ask questions and I will try and ez'plain the nuances of such a detailed time zone.

OHMIGAWD, Lesbians Do This, Too...

6 ways guys brush you off

MP Dunleavey
from Lifetimetv.com


Dear MP:
I am so sick of dating. What is wrong with men? They say one thing and do something else; they send mixed signals and are completely unreliable. I should become a nun!

Dear Sick of Dating,
I have to agree. A huge source of angst and frustration for those of us who are single and dating are the people we are single and dating with, in a word: Men.

That said, we women do have a way of making it worse for ourselves.

How? By misinterpreting certain male phrases and gestures which, if you paid attention to them early in the dating process, would actually save you countless hours of waiting and worrying (and haven't we all done enough of that?).

The biggest mistake most women make is not getting it when men give them signals that they’re not interested. One way to cope is to learn common male rejection phrases. This handy glossary has received high-level male clearance (from my guy friends.) Memorize it—and you’ll never be fooled again:

1. “Call me!” Translation: I am not being coy or shy; I’m just not interested enough to call you.

2. “Let’s get together some time.” Translation: Wow, I am so not excited to make a plan with you that if you press me for a specific date, I will lie and say I left my Palm Pilot at the office.

2. “You’re sweet.” Translation: You are so not my type, but you are sweet. And I feel a tinge of regret that I have to dump you.

3. “I’d like to take it slowly.” Translation: I’m married, have a girlfriend, or can’t sleep with you for reasons so obscure that even my shrink doesn’t understand. Either that, or you just don’t do it for me.

5. “I’m totally swamped for the next couple of weeks, but after that I’d love to see you.” Translation: I am too busy to be involved with anyone else but myself. Plus, I’m seeing eight other women.

6. “I love spending time with you. Let’s see how things unfold.” Translation: I am chronically ambivalent about everyone I date, and you are no exception. I will drag this out for months if you let me.

We’re all pretty sharp when a guy tries to pull one of these moves on a friend. That’s when we warn her, “Honey, he’s a loser!” The difficulty is recognizing the blow-off when it’s directed at you. There are two big reasons why it’s hard to see a blow-off, even one the size and speed of an asteroid:

1) You like this guy. You had a nice time on your dates. You may have kissed him, slept with him — or had hopes of all of the above. Finding out that you are completely alone in your romantic fantasy is a blow. I’m sorry about that. But get over it.

2) Men are dumber than ear-wax. In their lame-o effort to let you down gently, they may deliver one or more of the above lines while doing something completely contradictory--like holding your hand, making out with you, or even (yes) asking to see you again.

All I can say about that is: When a guy is solid about wanting to date you, he will make that as clear as the sun rising. If you’re getting foggy signals and lots of static on your radar, assume the connection isn’t mutual. It’s his loss.

Remember, most guys don’t like to reject a date any more than you do. If they stumble and send mixed signals, be clear and direct and ask them what the deal is, if you have to. If he’s still being ambivalent, kick him to the curb and move on.

"Why do guys say they'll call, then don't?"


Q. I went out with a guy recently and we had a great first date. He said he'd call me, but he never did. I'm sick of men acting like they're still in junior high school. What is up with that?

A. Funny, the same thing just happened to me. In fact, I'd say that the he-never-called routine is still the number one occupational hazard of dating, even when you're an adult. Why?
As both a single woman and an intrepid reporter, I've asked many men about the motivation behind this ubiquitous fib. Why not just say, "Thanks. Bye!" Dating is stressful enough. One thing we women don't need to do is wait for a guy's phantom phone call.

Luckily, male behavior is much less of a mystery to men, so the dozen sources I polled gave me virtually the same explanation for that famous false "I'll call you" promise:

"It means nothing."
"Why does someone bless you when you sneeze?"
"It's a reflex."
"You want to look like a good guy."
Are these reasons stupid? Yes, but as a male friend recently said in self-justification: "Men may be stupid — but women are crazy." (I countered that men are both stupid and crazy, but that's another column.)

So where does this leave you? I can't say for sure, but I can tell you where it has left me: I went out with a guy a few weeks ago; it was a blind date, but we had a good time. During the date he mentioned wanting to see me again, and the next day he even left a message, thanking me for the evening. I called back to thank him, and added that I was going out of town but that I'd be back the following weekend. The ball was in his court. I never heard from him again.

I spent about 10 minutes sulking, and another 10 minutes wondering if I should call him. And then my inner Queen Bitch Diva Goddess Warrior Woman stood up and said: "Oh, for Pete's sake. Life is too short. So he's not interested. What's the biggie?"

In other words, it might sting a bit when you realize that you've been dissed, but take some comfort in the fact that at least he has saved you the trouble of having to figure out that he's a chump down the line. Which means you can move on immediately; which is exactly what I did. And here's a happy ending, fellow single princesses: The next guy I went out with called when he said he'd call, e-mailed when he said he'd e-mail, asked me out for a second date — and generally expressed the sort of interest you'd expect from a mature human being. I'll keep you posted.

THANK YOU GRACE...

for fixing my blog...