I am an animal

Shall we talk about being human and feeling like nothing more than an animal. Shall we talk about looking up at our masters hoping they are in a good mood today. Shall we talk about the fear of the boot, the hand, the lonely exile of the cold outside. Shall we talk about being a human dog careful not to bite the hand. Shall we talk about the longing for the gentle pat on the head signifying a job well done. I am an animal and there is nothing I can do.

I have been chosen. I pressed my cold wet nose against the glass that is the working force. I wagged my tail and cocked my head to the side, lifting my floppy ears in curiosity. I am cute and young, desperate for love and eager to please. It was the force that drives all masters that sent mine for me. They wanted a mindless thing to do what it was told. No questions, no straying, a simple yes sir and on with my task. They wanted a young ambitious pup to teach how to guard the gates, pull the sled, entertain the children. With the promise of undying affection, three meals and a warm bed they drew me in close. I snuggled close to their bosom and felt the warmth of their body, finally someone to take care of me. No more lonely nights wanting a family to call my own. I am a house dog now.

They gave me my shots, took me to obedience school and patted my head “good girl.” They taught me some tricks and gave me treats when I did everything right. My master is good to me, my master feeds me when I sit. I am a good girl. They took me everywhere with them and I gazed out the window of the fast moving car. They loved me, hugged me, kissed me and gave me everything I could want. They were pleased, I was indeed a good girl.

But what is this? Has the animal done something wrong? You left your shoe out and I chewed it and now you are angry at me. Bad Girl. Now you left me in the house for ten hours alone and I pooped on the floor, you are so disappointed in me. Bad Girl. You left a tasty snack on the low table alone with me and I couldn’t resist a taste, you did not teach me that. Bad Girl. You bring me a new place to meet new people and I get scared and snap, that’s not how we act. Bad Girl. I go with my nature, uncontrolled by the complexities that make the master who they are. I am an animal and you don’t like it.

I am a trouble maker. Now I am no longer allowed to sleep in the room. Bad girls sleep in the hall alone.  I am not trained correctly. I no longer receive the love and affection of well mannered dog. Bad girls get no treats. Now I can’t be trusted outside. I am no longer given the liberties of the past. Bad girls stay home while we go out. I am a uncontrollable. I am no longer allowed out when company is around. Bad girls get locked in a room.

But I am still your animal and I still need to do the job you bought me for, and so I work. I get no treats, no pats on the head, no love. I have become resentful and I growl at my mean owners. I have become bitter and I try to fight back. I am a rebel and I will do what I want. If you will not treat me like a good girl, I will not be a good girl. My rebellion does not work, bad girls get punished. I have become sad and I avoid my owners. I do not look you in the eye. I try and hide my simple mistakes. I am too afraid to admit what I have done. I am a scared girl.

Now you are angry. Your animal no longer listens. It gets the hand. You are frightened, your animal is a danger. It gets the boot. You are scared for your children. Your animal snaps at all the humans. It gets the cold bitter chill of the night air. Your animal is so frightened it no longer preforms its job.

Your animal is useless. It will not do what you bought it to do. Your animal is unreliable. It will not work when you want it. Your animal is unpredictable. It is not the animal you thought it would be.  Your animal no longer serves it’s purpose.

If the sled does not get pulled, what’s the point of a sled dog? If the house does not get guarded what’s the point of a guard dog? If the children are scared of the animal what’s the point of a play thing? I am an animal that disappoints its master, I am pointless.

Shelters are for bad girls who are uncooperative. I am alone in a cage for hours. My family gone, never to be seen again. What did I do wrong? It is ingrained in me now, I am a bad girl, so I bark at the people looking for an animal. I growl at the kids and snap at the adults. I am aggressive and will never be taken home again. I am pointless and I know it so I become angry and scared. It’s time to put me down, an animal that will not do what is trained to do cannot be in this world. I don’t even get to explain myself. I am an animal and I am gone.


Story of Us (well my story)

I’ve decided, after watching several videos online about relationships, that I should answer the question everyone asks when they find out you are married. Yes I am talking about that question; “How did you two meet?” Now my wife, as lovely and intelligent (so much smarter than me) as she is, is not the type to sit down at her computer and type out pages worth of random words that just so happen to make sense in sentence format in order to get her feelings out. In other words, my wife is no writer and she is not here right now, so this story will be in my perspective. The flaw in only seeing it through my eyes is you won’t know whether all my random thoughts and feelings are going to work out in the end. The upside is I tell a great story. Maybe if you are lucky my other half with write her perspective down and you can get the whole story. Until then just deal with what I got.

The year was 2010 and I’m all signed up to enter into the United States Air Force. This wasn’t exactly a dream of mine in the truest since of the phrase. I had made this life changing choice based off of a few circumstances that I felt were problems. I was 19 and living at my parents house, working at Hardee’s fast food restaurant and dating a girl that wasn’t right for me. For the sake of being fare I’ll call my girlfriend at the time, Kimberly.

My life was as normal as a 19 year olds life could be but I felt like I needed more. I had stopped going to college (music major) because of money and transportation issues, and because I didn’t feel the music anymore. As much as I would have loved to play professionally I knew I had the skills, but not the talent. Honestly I know I have a true talent for one thing in this world, and music just wasn’t it.

Well Kimberly and I had been dating since high school, with a brief hiatus from me being not such a good person, and karma slapping me in the face for it. (That is another story for a sadder time.) Kimberly was in college and I spent my time taking the bus down to see her every chance I could get. This was all based on the time I could get off work, and money I had. Obviously being a teen working in fast food for $7.25 an hour at about 30 hours a week, I did not get to see her too much. Yes it was sad but like I said before she wasn’t right for me, and I knew it, but I have a complex about being alone and having someone there really helped with that. This alone complex stemmed from me not liking myself too much at the time, but again another story for another time.

Kimberly was in her junior year and decided to move in with a few friends in a cool off campus apartment. I had been to her first typical dorm room style in her freshman year and met her friends who were strange but cool. I had been to her second place which was trending and had cool stairs and met a new friend who was loud but nice. And now it was time for me to go to her new place and meet two new friends who I had no idea about.

It was the second day that I was there. I helped Kimberly with her move and was enjoying being alone, because I am socially awkward if I don’t know the people I am talking to. I spent most of my time in a room watching movies on a tiny TV. But one day I got out of the room and I met a girl.

She had pink colored hair and bright blue eyes and smiled at me, but it wasn’t just any smile, it was the type of smile that changed your life, and it changed mine alright. In a soft voice she said ‘Hi I’m Courtney.’ and I mumbled something I can’t quite remember. Honestly the conversation was a blur to me because I was, at that very second, undoubtedly, and unfortunately in love with the short girl moving her stuff into the room across from where I was staying.

Now this makes me a bad person, sort of. I had a girlfriend, Kimberly, but I wasn’t her biggest fan, and she wasn’t mine either. In my personal opinion she and I had glommed onto one another because we were both scared of just floating out there all alone. (The story of old Kimberly and I is a fascinating tale.) Kimberly was nice, entitled and arrogant but a nice enough girl. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on my own paper. I knew what these feelings were, it was the first time I felt this way about a person but I knew exaclty what it was, but it wasn’t okay for me to shout it out loud, so I didn’t.

Oh but time went on.

I was spending something along the lines of 10 days at this apartment because I was about to go off to basic training and felt the need to spend 10 days with my current girlfriend. So as I had nothing to do but sit around and play acoustic guitar like a true douche bag, so that is what I did. Low and behold there she was everyday with me Courtney, as if she was gravitating towards me. We would watch TV together and not talk. She would draw (art major) and I would watch her. She would ask me questions I would answer them trying to sound as cool as possible, which was impossible for me. Seeing her leave for class made me sad, but I passed the time looking her up on Facebook and looking at the things in her room like a true creeper. Then the night came.

Get your mind out of the gutter, we talked.

BACK GROUND: Kimberly had informed me of the dark twisted past Courtney had with her best friend in the whole wide world, lets call her Amy. Courtney was in love with Amy for years, and they dated for a short period of time. Courtney was still hung up on Amy because lets face it Amy was pretty cool and funny. Courtney had it in her mind that she and Amy were meant for each other, which destroyed me down the the deepest depths of my being.

Back to the night.

We all sat on the couch talking about stuff, and laughing as a group of lesbians do, and everyone started to get tired. One by one all the lesbians left leaving only me and my future wife. We sat on opposite couches and some how got into deep conversation about relationships. Apparently Courtney thought me lucky because Kimberly and I seemed so great together. I shot that down quickly with the truth. Kimberly and I were not made for each other and I knew that even before I met the person I was supposed to be with. I spilled the beans that she and I wouldn’t last, but it was hard to let go of a relationship I put years into, plus the guilt of leaving again. (another story) I could see it in those baby blues that she felt sorry for me. How does someone stay in a relationship with someone they don’t think they belong with? Little did she know I had only confirmed my negative thoughts towards Kimberly when I met her just days before. I felt like a bad person, but this love things was an all consuming force.

I soon asked Courtney what the status of hers and Amy’s relationship was and she informed me, that she was in love, and they were meant for each other no if ands or buts about it. All though they were not together and had not been for years, Courtney was convinced they would one day be together. She had it in her mind that Amy would see the light and fall in love with her, and she did years later (longer story). But at that time I was in love with her and needed her to believe that she wasn’t in love with Amy. I spent a little while trying to convince her but she was stuck in her ways. Devastated I spent the next hour making conversation the best way I knew how, with sarcasm and jokes. I was so clearly on the defensive, but I tried not to make my heartbreak known, because I had no reason to be heartbroken. I was supposed to be in love with Kimberly, how could I be sad about Courtney being in love with Amy.

We made silly jokes, well I made jokes and she laughed. We talked about eating humans, and how you can eat the brain (we are not zombies or freaks) but you couldn’t eat the grey matter. She  made me feel more comfortable in those few hours than I had ever felt in my entire life. But the night had to end. And with the third time Kimberly came out of her room to see what I was doing, I bid my new friend good night and went into the room.

I stayed awake that night. I had to so I could stop myself from running out of the room and knocking on Courtney’s door. I wanted to see her. I wanted to talk to her more. Everything in me screamed for me to just spend a few more minutes with her. I wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh. I wanted to see those blue eyes light up when she looked at me. My heart said yes, but my brain said no.

I couldn’t do that to Kimberly, not again. I couldn’t hurt her, I had promised to never do it again, and that night I kept my promise. I stayed in bed and waited out the night.

The next day everyone joked how Courtney and I were new best friends. She and I had inside jokes from the night before and we had very little tact in letting everyone know. It was at this point when I texted one of my friends a message I am not proud of. I told her “I think I have feelings for my girlfriends roommate.” we had conversations about it, and I filled her in quite they way I am doing now, and she decided it was a bad idea to tell anyone and I agreed.

It didn’t stop me from loving Courtney and I was bad at keeping my distance. I spent every waking hour with her, that I could. I spent more time with her than I did with Kimberly. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but it was almost as if I needed to be with her. I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to sit next to her and listen to her life. I had never felt this way about anyone and I had no idea how to handle it. Again I had no tact to speak of. I spent my time talking to her, and when she wasn’t home I tried to think of things to say. I tried to look cool, but uncaring so she would like me. I tried to hint that I liked her, but saw no sign of her liking me too. Every moment with her was in slow motion but went way too fast.

I know keeping my feelings to myself was the right thing to do, but if I could go back, I would kiss her.

Well one day everyone went to a GSA meeting together only Kimberly had to meet us there, and Amy was at the front cause she lead the group. So Courtney and I sat alone together somewhere in the middle of the room and I was a trouble maker. I poked her flirtatiously and made her laugh with my brand of humor. We played a game where we were going to get put in separate groups but I kept her with me. Let’s face it we were flirting the entire time. That was the first time I thought maybe she had feelings for me too.

It was after that she spent most of her time in her dorm room watching Friends (her favorite show) with Amy. I was so jealous of their time together I wanted to kick in the door and shout “Get the hell away from my girl.” But she wasn’t my girl. My girl was sitting next to me doing her homework quickly so we would have time together. My girl was completely aware of how frustrated I was but never said a word to me.

I spent the last remaining days trying not to show how in love I truly was with Courtney. Some of these nights I had a few sips of koolaide (if you know what I mean), and it was harder to keep the flirt in. Some nights I was a perfect lady. All in all I made it through the 10 day stay without blurting out my true feelings, though it was all I wanted to do. Saying goodbye to Courtney was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life up till then. I hugged her, but it didn’t feel like enough. I wanted to kiss her and tell her I loved her, but I couldn’t so I didn’t.

Fast forward to me getting out of basic and being in Tech School. I was living on a Naval Base close to LA and I was still with Kimberly, but had a thing for this Army chick I met in my home town. Lets call her Kelly. Well Kelly was great, she was the type of girl who could take your mind off of things. It felt nice to be liked again, and have the beginnings of a relationship, because the beginning is the best part. Eventually I couldn’t keep up with talking to Kelly and being with Kimberly, so I broke it off with Kimberly. Lets face it she and I were so not meant to be. It was hard letting go, but it was the right thing to do.

The Kelly thing eventually went sour, as most of my relationships do. I was all hung up and crying because I am a cry baby but eventually moved on. Now I was living at my first base in NJ and met this chick (online) from Philly. Lets call her Layla, and Layla was a horrible person.

Have you ever met somebody and thought, wow is this what they talk about in the bible when they say bad people? That was Layla. She was the typical girl who played with your mind and blamed it all on you when you figured it out. Crazy doesn’t begin to describe this girl. But I digress.

Layla and I went back and forth, I was stupid and naive for letting it fester for so long, the entire thing was a big mess that is again another story. For the sake of this story I will tell you that Layla ended up cat fishing me online which lead me to have this massive break down (other circumstance, family stuff was at play as well) and I did the one thing I know how to do, I began to write.

I wrote the one person I hoped wouldn’t judge me for my past, Courtney. I messaged her on Facebook telling her I just need someone to talk to and she said okay.

So Uh. I know your opinion of me might be low, but i’m taking a chance anyways. You and i once had a pretty nice talk, and I’m going through a pretty messed up situation. I just kind of need someone, anyone, to talk to about it, and i thought of you. I don’t know anyone else that has a clear head on their shoulders. IDK if it’s that time of year when stuff is rough in school, but if you have the time, and if you want to, can i please talk to you.
May 5, 2012
5/5, 9:15pm
I just got finished with all of my stuff for school so I’m pretty much done for the semester…I remember what it was like not having anyone to talk to when I was going through a really rough time, so you can talk…

That is the actual messaged sent and replied to. She was kind of cold blooded but she had every right to be. The surprising thing is she actually listened and respond to me. Even after I had treated her roommate like crap she was a good person and listen to me. I was in trouble and she put her personal bias aside and took the time to help. This spawned a long conversation on facebook spanning months.

She made me happy again. I was depressed and wanted nothing to do with the outside world, and she made me see the beauty in everything once again. I know for a fact if she had told me no, that I wouldn’t be the person I am today. If she would have shot me down, I don’t know what I would have done.

Months later I asked if I could text her. I made a silly excuse that I wouldn’t be able to be a facebook for a week or so because of night duty and she said okay. A few weeks after that I asked if I could call her and she said yes. A few months after that I asked if she would be my girlfriend and she said “Let me think about it.” Being a good person, she talked to Kimberly first to be sure everything was cool, which didn’t matter to me because Kimberly had stopped talking to me like eight months ago, and she ended up being a terrible person (ask me about that later).

Soon we were dating and I spent my time and money flying to GA to see her, or her flying to NJ to see me. We were in love, but had only a week or so every four months to express it. What we had was amazing, and it was defiantly ‘it’ but hard on us, physically emotionally and finically.

About ten months in I asked her to move in with me because this long distance life was not where it was at and she said “Let me think about it.” I convinced her, like I always do and she decided to move to NJ. A week later I asked her to marry me and she said “Let me think about it.” Again I convinced her and she said yes.

We got married in secret (another story) and moved into a one bedroom apartment with our dog Theo. We got another little dog named Rinn and we began our lives.

Now we live in FL in a nice four bedroom with the dogs and a kitty named Booker. We have started our journey to a baby and couldn’t be happier.

That is the story of How we met, from my side of things. I am sure Courtney has a totally different story to tell, maybe one day she can write it. My life is pretty great, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Our Way of Life

WARNING: This is a writing assignment. The prompt was to take what you are passionate about and write the opposite. This is me viewing the world in a different way. I did not enjoy writing this, but it did open my eyes. I hope it will open yours too.

They’re here, they’re queer, and they bring fear.

I like to think of myself as an open minded person. As open minded as one can be while still sticking to the believe system which I was brought up in. It’s not that I don’t think people should have freedoms or happiness, I just don’t want all their ‘goings on’ to destroy all that I hold true. I get it, love is love, but I say love is not love when it is soaked in debauchery  and blasphemy. Are we not humans, governed by not only the laws of nature but the laws of God himself? How can we sit around and say that it is okay? How can we let these gays, lesbians, transgender and whatever else they call themselves come into our world and change they way we live our life? If you think these people life choice is not going to effect you and your family you are dead wrong.

Marriage is defined as one woman and one man for one simple reason, this man and woman can produce a child. I can understand how a same sex couple can have a child, but it is not a child produced in natural ways. Do we as people really want a army of babies produced in test tubes and planted into a woman like some farmer planting a seed in a field? How is this scientifically produced child supposed to grow up? How do you explain that mommy and mommy had to go to the doctor so he could mix you up in a petri dish like growing mold cultures, just so we can have you? Do you honestly think this child is going to have a normal life? Not only will it be a freak from it’s birth, but a freak for having two mommy’s or two daddy’s. Maybe it will have a parent that doesn’t even have a gender, who knows.

These lesbians walking around acting like they can raise a healthy boy is a joke. I’m sorry but a boy needs a man in it’s life to know how to be a man. Two women cannot teach a boy what it is to be a man. The only thing a boy brought up in a female household is going to learn is how to be a girl. This poor boy will grow up to be a sissy, doing ballet and drinking tea at a pink table, playing with dolls. This will only lead to him kissing boys like girls are meant to do. This happens because he doesn’t have a man there to teach him what to do and how to act. How will he learn to through a football? How will this boy learn to stand up for himself? Raising a male child in a female relationship house hold will do nothing but scar the boy for life. He won’t be a man, he will be some freak who has no friends and hates himself.

If you think raising a girl in a boy on boy household is any better you are wrong. I don’t understand why these perverts want a baby girl to begin with, but I can guarantee you she will end up as a lesbian. I understand gay men are feminine and girly but they cannot raise a girl to be a proper lady. A man has no idea how to teach a girl the ways of being a lady. How will a dad know about her time of the month? How will he teach her how to put on a bra? He probably has never touched a bra is his life. This girl will grow up to be a tom boy who other girls hate. She will have no friends and no life and probably resort to doing drugs to make her feel happy.

These children of gay households will hate themselves. They will realize they are not normal and hate their so called parents for bringing them into this world. The end results for these poor souls will be suicide. More dead kids in this world, all because of the selfishness of these freaks wanting to be parents.

It is a fact that when two homos raise a child, that child will more than likely end up a homo too. With this cycle the entire world will end up full of these monster walking around telling good God fearing people it is okay to sin against the Lord. This is not what we want as a nation.

If we allow these people to get married, they will want other things. They will manipulate everything and turn it into this big gay freak show that normal people can’t walk around in. They will raise gay children who will try to turn our normal children gay too. They will turn our youth against us and against God. They will bring down our country into the fiery pits of hell. The only thing we can do is stop the debauchery before it begins. If we don’t allow them to marry, they won’t have kids and the world will remain the place it is now. It is for the best.


Definition of Me

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “For Posterity.”

Do I know who I am?

It seems as though my developing mind is changing ever so slightly with each passing second. My life unfolds in front of me as if it is a book I am both reading and writing at the same time. Words tend to pour out at me at any given second that I never expected to actually say. The definition of who I am changes faster than the waves of the ocean, faster than the air which creates the waves. In a year my life’s description has changed so much so I can’t seem to remember who exactly I was last year. The vast complication that is my life seems to become more complex as I grow older, whether it be by days, weeks, or months. Even now I am different and it only took me the length of a song to write this paragraph.

Mine is a complicated story. My life seems to contradict itself in subtle, yet noticeable ways.  The one thing that stands out to others is my professional life. I get asked all the time how a mechanic in the USAF could dream of being a writer. How does this blunt instrument want to put down words eloquently strong together to reach the minds of her peers? The people of this world find this oil soaked specimen incapable of finding the words to describe a sunset in such a vivid way it makes the reader feel as if their eyes are set upon the fading light. I say to them as simply as possible, I am no mechanic, I am a writer with mechanical abilities.

I am a mystery. How does a foul mouth jokester come to call herself intelligent? It’s simple really, just because I choose not to unload my entire vocabulary into one conversation I have with a single person does not mean that it is limited to the words I used in that conversation. I find those who boast about their intelligence annoying. I believe if you have to continue to prove how intelligent you are by making others around you feel stupid it must mean you are insecure about yourself. I find it better to speak to people as if they are human beings, neither above nor below me, deserving of my respect until they prove it otherwise. An intellectual, and a lady tries to make those around her comfortable. Life is fun, why not joke about it? These foul words I use are just a form of expression, a rush of adrenaline, and release of endorphins in word form. If you don’t like them, you’re probably using them wrong.

I guess the biggest question I get about my convoluted life is: how does a lesbian woman call her self a Christian. I cannot honestly say I find the answer to that question easy. I have never found the tangled web that is the question of my sexuality and my religion easy to get through. If I am here to bare my soul then I admit I struggle with it every second of the day. There is only one thing I can say to such a complex question. I accept Jesus Christ as my personal savior, that is what I know, I leave the rest up to him.

The question of who I am is the same, but the answer is ever changing. I am a Christian, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a lesbian, a friend, an Airman, a writer, a mechanic, a musician, an animal lover, an extroverted introvert, a leader, a follower, and (God willing) a soon to be mother. Most of all I am a complicated person and I love it.


Inspiration for those like me

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Be the Change.”

Is there anyone out there like me?

That is the question that plagued my mind as I grew up. I looked to the others around me hoping to catch a hint from anyone, just a single soul, telling me that they were the same. I lived a life of codes and hopes. I sent many of hints out to the people that didn’t want them. I cried at night when the girl I liked got a boyfriend, and all those hours we spent together, with me doing all these things, and telling all these jokes, and sending all these hints were for nothing. It took years for me to learn that I never had a chance with over three fourths of the people I thought I may have had a connection with. Theses were not connections these were my confused mind trying to find love, with no direction on how to find it.

I have searched high and low for something that made sense of this thing that I was. I spent my teen years trying to figure out who I was, and why I was, but the answer never really came. It was years of searching, years of collecting, years of making up my own mind about it, that lead me to who I am now.

The rest of the world gets to look at one another and find common ground, or should I say common love. Boys like girls and girls like boys, there are movies, songs, books, shows, and just everyday life around them to tell them how to act, how to live, how to breath, how to love, but what of the others?

What of the cast aways that don’t get the tingly feeling for the opposite sex? What of the poor girl sitting in her room trying to be what she is not just to fit in? Those boys, those glorious boys who love boys get all these books and movies made for them by the conquers of love in the past, but where are the women?

Where is the young crusaders to lead me to the promise land of information on how to be a lesbian in the world filled with people always questioning you and making you question yourself? Where is the book that tells me how to respond to boys making passes at me, telling me all I need is the right man? Where is the movie on how to ask a girl if she likes you without freaking her out? Where is my guide to my life?

I spent years reading books about the beautiful awkward girl who gets the cute boy. I watched countless movie about the boy who gets the girl, and yet the movie where the girl gets the girl is only out there in small parts. It is always messed up in some sick way. It’s never just girl meets girl, girl falls for girl, girls get together and love happens. It has to be girl is with guy, and now she is with girl. There is always some man in the middle of this love story pulling the lesbian away from her so called life style. There is not a single story out there that is not filled with lesbians pretending to be straight, or thinking that she is straight, before she realizes she isn’t. All I see are movies and shows filled with affairs and anger and these women you hope to be your new hero sleeping with some virile man.

If there is a story where men are not in the middle of it, then it is a crazy story of abuse and horror or some inappropriate relationship between women of vastly different ages. As if the only lesbian relationship that can last is a dysfunctional one. Where is the stories that don’t show these sex crazed girls parading around town sleeping with whoever they can manage to get their hands on? These stories of lesbians turning straight girls for a split second. We are made out to be snakes in the grass waiting for the vulnerable naive straight girl to sink our teeth into.

No wonder the world see’s us like they do. This is how we show ourselves.

I wish as a teen girl I could have seen stories about teen girls falling in love and living a normal life. I wish I could have seen young twenty somethings finding each other and having a normal life, getting married and having children. Maybe then I would have grown up not condemning myself. Maybe I could have gone to sleep at night without wondering if I was ever going to have the type of relationship that I didn’t have to be ashamed of. Maybe I could have been taught not to be ashamed. If only at a young age I could have been told that I didn’t need to act straight, or act like I was something that I just wasn’t. Maybe then I would have been happy, truly happy, not just the act I put on. Maybe then I would not have felt so pressured to act normal.

There may not be some knight in shinning armor waiting to take me away from all my troubles, but who’s to say I am not the knight. Who is to say I am not the one to save the girl? Maybe I could have believed that could have been me, if I had seen it growing up. Instead I spent a life watching pretty girls get saved by strong men, as I stood in the corner hoping one day I could do the saving. That may not be the traditional story, but it is still a good one.

What do I hope to do with my blog? What change would I like to make with it. I hope to give at least one young lesbian hope that the life that everyone else gets to have is in fact within her grasp.


The Task

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Final Trio.”

Shall I tell you a story?



No one?



Well I will tell myself a story and anyone who wishes to listen to it can. I mean it is not a requirement, but if someone should be sitting around doing nothing, maybe ignoring my questions because they don’t want to seem uncool for really wanting to listen to a story, because story listening is tre uncool, then they can act like they are not listening even though to totally are.

Let’s Go.


Once upon a time in a land close to us, not so close you can drive to it in a half an hour, but close enough that you wouldn’t exclude it in your search for great movie theaters. In this land there is a girl, the kind of girl you would see in a band, a good band, a rock band, the kind of girl that plays the bass. This girl was given a task, and not just any task a task that in which her entire future rested upon. The outcome of this task would decided wether or not she would be a complete success or a totally failure. She, needless to say, took said task extremely seriously, but not so serious that it made things uncomfortable. She listened to the directions given to her and even clarified them with the directions giver and task maker just to make sure she didn’t hear anything wrong, or assume anything that didn’t need to be assumed. Next she went and got dressed for the task, jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt, nothing crazy. She grabbed her wallet and keys and headed to her car to complete this life altering task.

In the car she cranked “Please Don’t Tease” by The Donnas, loud enough to be cool, but not so loud that it would distract her from her incredibly important task. She drove for about five minutes until she got to the place where she needed to be in order to finally complete the quest she was sent on. She jumped out of her awesome car and walked into the huge place, full of distractions that she skillfully avoided.

In the place she didn’t look around at anything, she simply headed right for what she needed. She looked incredibly determined as she set her eyes on the things she must get. She reached for one of the items, but it was cracked, smartly she bypassed that and went right for the untracked one. Before she knew it she had everything she needed to finish her job and make it home in the time allotted to her. She rushed past all the people in the place and paid for her items. All that was left to do was to show the directions giver how well she followed the directions and get the praise she deserved. So she walked out of the place and drove back to the directions giver.

As she walked into the house she handed the items to the directions giver, task maker with a smile, not to cocky, not too nonchalant either. The task maker, looked down at the items but didn’t smile. How was this possible the girl wondered, she followed all directions to the ’t’ how was the outcome not what the task maker wanted. She protested, respectfully of course.

The task giver looked down at the items and said “I wanted spicy mustard, this is regular mustard.”

The girl sighed and grabbed the mustard from the directions givers hands, placing it sadly on the counter. She kissed the task maker on the cheek, grabbed her keys off the bookself and headed back out to complete the task correctly this time.


Now wasn’t that fun?


Well, than you do better.


Well you do better.

The Case of the Invisible Girl

This next post is based on true event. Descriptions of persons included have been over exaggerated, and names not listed because I didn’t care enough to ask in the first place.

It was time for me to make my next trip to see my then girlfriend (now wife) in a two and a half hour flight from Philadelphia International Airport, to Atlanta International Airport. I have made this trip once before about 8 months ago and enjoy the short flight. Coming from someone who once took a 26 hour flight to Okinawa Japan, and then back again, the time in the air doesn’t bother me.

Like most passengers I spend my flights with my headphones in playing some awesome music and  fall asleep to pass the time. Normally I mind my own business and try not to talk to people, because, lets face it, I am not a people person, and tend to come unhinged pretty quickly when strangers talk to me about things I have no idea about. I am polite, but I have my edge, and it’s much closer than the average persons.

Now I don’t mind small talk, the occasional ‘where ya from’ or ‘where ya going’ or even a ‘have ya ever flown before’ typical airplane talk, it’s the talkers that get to me. I am an antisocial person by nature. I tend to stick to myself unless I really know you, hence the reason it takes me so long to make friends. I am especially anti social whenever I am in public places, dealing with people I will, more than likely, never see again, such as restaurants, Wal-Mart, and airplanes. So like typical me, I tried to keep to myself once again.

With my luck I was of course put in the middle seat. No bother, this means the strangers on either side of me will not talk unless they are taking to me right? WRONG!!

I spent the next thirty minutes that we sat on the tarmac listening to a conversation being had across me. Not besides me, or behind me, or even in front of me, but literally across me. Two people sandwiching me in talking like I wasn’t even there. They were the bread and I was the ‘didn’t even notice it’ hint of mustard.

The guy, with enough gel in his hair to cause a grease fire, asked the lady if Atlanta was her final stop. The lady, decked out in a nice business suit and pearls responded with “Yes” apparently she has work in ATL. I cringed at the thought of them asking me. Don’t worry gentle readers, they never asked me. They completely, 100% ignored the person shaped object with eyes darting back and forth in the seat between them. Normally I am okay being invisible, but not when a conversation is taking place across my chest.

I thought the light banter about what they did for a living would be the end of it. As you may have already figured out I was Dead Wrong. While most people stop talking during take off, these spectacular people continued gabbing through the ear popping take off. They began a novel of a discussion about vacations they had been on. The man, who’s voice began to sound like a lawn mower running out of fuel told the too interested in my opinion woman about his trip to India.

Now I love India as much as the next person, but I don’t want to hear about riding an elephant in great detail while I’m trying to eat my complementary peanuts and sip my ginger ale. Still the light chat played on, with the women talking about how much she wants to see India. Next she told him about her trip to Japan.

I love Japan, I mean I love it, lived there for two years, and never wanted to leave, but there is only so much a person can take. I have about 40% of the patience a normal person has, and I was slowly reaching my capacity. Hearing about the temples and the artwork was itching my brain. Most people might chime in at this point, but not me, I was already too upset to hold a normal persons conversation.

Soon their talks sounded like Charley Browns teacher. Wao Waa Wao Wa. But it continued for an hour. Yes my friends, one hour of a conversation that I was never brought into even though it was sitting on my nose like a swollen zit the entire time. These people were literally leaned in so their heads were in my line of sight for a minute there. I could smell his cologne he was so close. I awkwardly brushed my arm against hers.

I listened to the entire conversation. Why? Because I like to listen to peoples conversations and then have lengthy discussion about them with my wife… (that’s not weird)

So the conversation ended, with the man noticing the book the woman was reading. It slips my mind what it was, but I am sure it was something sappy and stupid. They talked about the book for half a minute before she admitted to only being on page ten and wanting to see where it goes. Like being a page ten is really ‘seeing where it goes.’ You are barely into the story at page ten at that point you are just reading the book, hit me up with ‘see where it goes’ when you are on page 113.

As the conversation came to a not so abrupt end they both began doing their own separate things. So like a normal person I put in my head phones and closed my eyes, trying to sleep for the next hour or so. I was getting there too, before the man tapped me on the shoulder. And do you know what he had the nerve to say to me? I’ll tell ya…. “Can you please turn your music down?”

Oh buddy you are lucky I am in the military and it is frowned upon for me to cause a scene in public. And I didn’t want to get thrown off a plan and not asked to fly again.

After having an hour long conversation breathing into my mouth as I tried to mind my own business you are going to ask me to turn my music down because I was bothering you. I was bothering you?! Like you didn’t just get spittle in my ginger ale from talking too close to this chica over here like I didn’t even exist. Could have asked me to switch seats so you could talk about elephant poop without me feeling the gentle breeze of your breath on my cheek. Could have ended the conversation when the plan took off, but no you didn’t. Did I complain? Yeah a lot in my head, but never out loud, because I don’t like causing scenes, and one of my biggest fears is getting put on the no fly list (irrational I know) The nerve of some people.

Moral of this story is don’t talk across people, its weird and gross, and inconsiderate.