Struggles-Part 2

Life was interesting after making this decision and feeling comfortable with it. At the time, I'd been living in a dumpy apartment and then my grandmother offered for me to move in with her until after the baby and I got on my feet...so to speak. I spent the next few months talking with Debbi and John and getting to know them. I began to feel so close to them, like they were my best friends and I was giving this gift to them. This made me feel more at peace with the decision somehow. Like I couldn't let them down. Debbi and John were paying my rent and medical expenses during this time. I never realized how much red tape there is for an adoption. The parents had a lawyer, the baby had a lawyer and things had to be set up for when the baby was born.

As the months passed so slowly by, I just wanted it to be over. I had spent the first 4 months of my pregnancy in the bathroom with morning, noon and night sickness, as I called it. I spent more time in the bathroom throwing up than doing anything else. I lost 25 pounds and some people didn't even believe I was pregnant. Like I would make it up....oh yah, people do do that, don't they? Not me...I swore I'd always remember how awful I felt and let that be a lesson. I guess I was 7 1/2 months along when I took Lamaze classes. I enjoyed that but it also told me that my time was limited.

Then the time came. I was 2 weeks overdue in March, 1989. Finally the dr said I needed to be delivered. Suddenly, all the time I'd been waiting and wishing to end, was here....but now I wanted more time. I went to the hospital and was attached to monitors and people poking and prodding me. I'd just come from the Drs office where they'd done a pelvic exam and the baby had not dropped at all, so that exam was painful. Here I was in the labor room now, with a strong hefty woman putting a catheter inside of me. I thought if one more person tells me to relax...oh she did it, she told me to relax. I shouted, "You know, I'd like to stick my hand clear up to my elbow up that Drs ass and tell him to RELAX!" The nurse, laughed, "Hmm are we a tad bit hostile today?" Ya think?

Anyway, I had been asked whether I wanted to see the baby and hold her. I'd been told it wasn't a good idea for me to hold the baby, but I at least wanted to see her. So Brittany was born at 1:45pm on March 17, 1989, a friday....yes, St. Patty's day...by C-Section. I had learned that the umbilical cord was wrapped twice around her neck and had I been insistant on having a natural childbirth, one of us would not have made it. I'd had no labor pains of any kind, nothing. But Brittany turned out to be over 10 lbs. I believe the cord around her neck was the cause of her later disabilities.

That first day after her birth was somewhat of a blur, as the drugs began to wear off. I received flowers and phone calls from Debbi and John. The next day, I decided to hold her. My thinking was that because I was truly going to go through with this adoption, it would be the only chance I had to hold my daughter. Of course, the nurses were against it, but I had every intention of following through, no matter how difficult it was.

The day after that, Sunday, I realized I had not heard from Debbi and John for awhile. I immediately thought something was wrong. Monday comes along, and still no word from anyone. Then Tuesday came, the day I was to get out of the hospital. Everything happens for a reason, as part of a big complicated plan, we know nothing about. I will forever believe this to be true.

Next:part3

Daily Observations

Today is the start of a new section I call DAILY OBSERVATIONS. Today's deals with a growing trend of **gulp** fashion.

My job requires me to take my clients to work on their goals....whatever it has been set up for them to work on. Every Tues/Thurs I take one of my clients to the mall where we walk usually 2.5 miles through the length of the mall. The daily mallwalkers have become a staple of the day and hence, so have we. While leaving the mall, we were walking behind an african-american couple, where the man was wearing the apparently required attire...the long pants/shorts that hang clear down below his ass. His girlfriend/partner/whomever looked respectable with her jeans belted and where they should be. I've never understood this trend...I've seen alot of white guys and gals too attempting this. Maybe I am just too old to get it.

My client whispered to me, "he's gonna lose his pants," as the man reached cleeeeear down to put something in his front pocket...which was down by his ankles. He looked at the woman and said, "she looks okay." Then he says, "I don't have much of a butt but I wear my suspenders."
I told him, "I have too much butt and there ain't no way my pants would ever fall down!" He laughed and laughed like I've never heard him laugh before. It made my day.

Maybe I'm too white, too old school....I don't know. Why is it approriate to show your unders to everyone within eyesight. It makes me laugh when I see someone pull up their pants....they only pull them up a miniscule....my god, we don't want to pull them up too much, someone might not see those boxers. UGH!

Its meaning will forever delude poor pitiful me.

Brittany's Struggle-part 1

This is my girl Brittany, who is now a whopping 17 years old. It's hard to imagine. I am proud of this picture because she looks so grown up and I've passed it around to family members.

Brittany's struggle began probably from when she was born and I am proud to say she has done so well in the past few years. I have to admit, this might not have been the case had I not made the ultimate of sacrifices.

I was 23 and pregnant by a man(I use the term loosely) who when I informed him of his impending fatherhood, stated that he was already married with 2 children. Hmm. I guess to me, it was a blessing. I'd had no relationship with this man. Yes, I never questioned my sexuality at the time, but knew I was looking for something...a brick to fall on my head, something that would just excite me. Then I would know what everyone was talking about. I knew this man, like all the others, was not it. But now I had to face it and make life altering decisions. The thought of having a life inside me, was thrilling...I had a chance to make something happen. Enter the family....

I was living and working for a man that was my best friend inside and out. He'd known me since I was 19. His name was Tony, an older gay man who took care of his elderly mother. I was living in a room in the back of his house, taking care of his mother while he worked. This is where I met Brittany's father, whose name also happened to be Tony. I'll call him TonyS. He made the moves on me one afternoon while I was steadily involved with some wine coolers. TonyS and I worked in shifts taking care of Tony's mother. Confusing?

My family consisted of both my grandmothers who lived there in town. Both of my grandfathers had died earlier that year. All of my family was not happy about the news, of course, because I was not married and it looked bad. This was 1988...not the 50s. Though on my father's side, everyone had been divorced more than once, my aunt would end up to be divorced 3 times and my father is on his 3rd marriage. So glad that doesn't look bad. My father's mother, Millie, I was closest to. She was not thrilled to say the least. Neither was my father and stepmother. I wrote a letter to my mother telling her the news. She wrote back saying I should get an abortion as "that baby didn't ask to be born." I thought, what baby does? I didn't believe in abortions for something I did all on my own. I still don't. No one in my family spoke to me for quite awhile. Until my stepmother talked to me about what my plans were. It had tortured my mind, but inside I had planned to keep the baby. She showed me what a struggle it would be and talked to me about adoption. So after much thought, deliberation and weighing out the good and bad...I decided she was right. I went looking for someone to adopt my baby.

Searching through the paper, I found an ad from a couple looking to adopt. So I wrote and called. I found a couple. All I still know about them to this day is that their names were Debbi and John and they lived around White Plains, New York. John was a vice president of a bank and Debbi was in some kind of marketing/advertising. They'd been married for 10 years. They called me and I felt an instant connection to them, especially Debbi. A few times of talking, they decided to go with me, compared to others who had called/written. Debbi told me later that the other women/girls had some kind of drug background.

Of course, once I announced this decision, everyone in my family was happy. Suddenly, they were all so proud of me. It taught me that if you do what they want, they love you. And so, I had decided to give my baby up for adoption.

Coming soon....Part 2

Dirty Dorothy and the Pantyhose

Recently, I was living with my 83 year old grandmother, overseeing her care. She lived in a trailer park with pretty decent mobile homes. I got to know many of the elderly women and men in the community there. One such neighbor that lived just across the street from my grandmother was someone we just called "Dirty Dorothy". I am not sure why this name stuck, but it seems to fit somehow. Many times, Dorothy would be out digging in her yard with a flashlight past 11pm. Dorothy told my grandmother not to ever call her unless her blinds were up...which was usually afternoon, as she informed everyone who knew her, most nights she would drink a 6 pack of beer and then sleep past noon. I worked from 1pm-11pm and when I came home, Dorothy was always outside, even during the winter months.

Last spring, Dorothy was to go to her grandson's wedding and had fussed and fumed about what to wear. She stopped over to tell us she had decided to wear the "same damn dress I wore to his last wedding. I doubt he will even notice." She stated she was going to buy some pantyhose or some nylon stockings to wear, she couldn't decide which. These were the hot topics of discussion for the day. Later that day, Dorothy came back to tell us about her excursion out shopping. Apparently, she bought a couple pairs of pantyhose. Once Dorothy tried them on, she told us, "I didn't want that damn cotton crotch lining in there. It makes it too hard to pee. So I took me a pair of scissors and cut out the crotch and MY GOD! I just about cut off my pussy hairs!"

My grandmother and I laughed until we cried. How interesting to me that she decided to cut out the crotch while she had them on. She explained, this way she wouldn't have to even take them off to pee.

Whoda thunk it?

Coming Out...A Lesson in Psychology

Here it is, the mother of all stories.....

I was a late bloomer, 28, when I discovered it, much by accident. I've heard many people say they always knew or had some tell tale signs in junior high and high school. Not so for me. I'm sure the signs were there...after all, when I was 9 or 10, I created a male personna for myself named Matt..gee who would have guessed I'd grow up and figure out I was a lesbian? Certainly not me. I didn't date boys, but as with most people, just believed I was straight, I didn't know of anything else. I didn't date because I never found any boy that was ever interested in me, and when I finally did in high school, he turned out to be gay! I had several crushes, although I didn't understand that's what they were at the time, on girls/women throughout my twenties. It was not sexual, if it had been, maybe I would have figured something out sooner. It was all encompassing and took everything out of me, but I thought it was all just close friendship. As an adult, I went out with men and not all were losers. I went through the sexual thing with them because I thought I was supposed to. It truely bored me and I thought, "This is what everyone goes ga-ga over? You've got to be kidding me." Well I became pregnant in 1988 when I was 23. Another whole saga ensued, but that is yet another story. But when my daughter was 3, I met Teri.Teri was beautiful. Tall, long blonde hair and blue eyes. She lived behind me with her then girlfriend, Doreen and Doreen's 2 kids. Teri and I started talking only because of my daughter, who developed her social butterfly skills with Teri. Teri wanted to meet me and offered to babysit. I was at the time dating a man named Dave. Dave didn't excite me at all...another forced relationship, but Teri...I couldn't breathe unless I saw her, talked to her, heard her voice. Teri and Doreen eventually told me they were lesbians. I understand now, that Teri assumed I was too or at least Bi or questioning. Teri and I became very close, but I was convinced that she was just my closest friend. Teri ended up moving to her own apartment across town. She invited me over one night, we had a few beers and talked for hours. That is when she confided in me that she was diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder. What?! Okay...I was sticking by her, being her friend as she "needed" me. She went to bed in her bedroom a little while later and I was to sleep on the couch. She began having nightmares. Being the person I was, I went in and sat with her for 3 hours until she came out of them. Then she smiled that smile and asked me to lay with her on her bed. We held each other(why, if I thought I was straight, did I not think this was odd?) for a few minutes and then she turns to me and says, "Julie, I want to kiss you." Huh? Somehow lying on her bed, wrapped up in each other was perfectly normal, but kissing was...oh no! How could she have known my head was playing games with me for weeks until this point? I must have had that shocked as hell look on my face because she says "Oh God, I'm sorry....I thought you were....I mean...." she didn't know what to say, but I got the hell out of there, making some excuse. I couldn't be gay. No way. I had a kid for God's sakes. I spent that weekend totally wrapped up in myself. Understanding things I'd never questioned before. At the end of the weekend, I understood it all. I was a lesbian. Teri and I ended up having a tumultuous relationship, not even a relationship due to her illness. Not an ideal person to make you come out...but I will always be grateful for that special person coming along to show me what was so embedded within me, I didn't even know it. I didn't come out to my family for 2 years due to the issues regarding my daughter's birth and my decision to raise her as a single parent. I thought, "Lordy, they could barely handle that, and now I'm gay, too?!" I didn't live real close to my dad and my mother had disowned me when I decided to raise my daughter and not give her up. So I copped out and wrote a letter after my stepmother(whom I get along with pretty well) nagged me about never knowing anything about my life. "You never tell us anything!" She says one day. After so much of that, I thought, "alright, you want to know...fine." So I laid it all out in a letter. My sexuality was never mentioned(to my face) by my family until I had a conversation in 2001 with my stepmother, only a mere 6 years after the fact. It was a nice conversation that I will never have with my father. She stated that while she didn't understand those feelings, she understood that I could not be happy with a man and if that was what made me happy then she was happy for me. I was 28 when I came out to myself and I am now going on 41, my daughter is 17. The women I chose to be involved with uptil my current girlfriend, had some kind of mental disorder, were self-destructive or controlling. It's a path we must all walk through to get where we are going. Where are we going? You won't know til you get there. Everything happens for a reason, I believe that. I can't say I am all that close with my family and I am not so sure it was right to come out to them, but I've always been honest, so if you don't want to know the answer, don't ask! No one can tell you when or how to come out. Coming out to yourself is a journey just like coming out to your family is. My family just doesn't talk about it, which is kind of relieving. It's a quiet disapproval, which is subtle, but nice compared to others. Funny that I have a cousin who also is a lesbian and has been with her partner for going on 13 years. My grandmother said, "Gee I wondered why they bought a house together!" =) It takes a strong person. You know, I used to say that we are no different that straight people, but now I believe we really are different. We are stronger and more united in our resolve because we've had to fight for what is in our souls. Straight people know no such fight. Being true to yourself is never wrong. Neither is love.

Once an Ex-Gay....

This letter was originally from http:// joemygod.blogspot.com concerning the Ex-Gay group Exodus, attempting to turn gays into straight god fearing folks...see how well it works:

Dear Joe,
I found your blog today after googling for items about Exodus, the ex-gay organization you wrote about yesterday. I am a mom in Texas and I keep an eye on whatever Exodus is doing, because you see Joe, I found some of their materials among my son's personal items after he took his life in 2002. Joe, he was only 19 years old and he was just the sweetest boy you'd ever want to know. My son had problems, yes, but his father and I (we are divorced) both feel that the Exodus people took advantage of his confusion about who he was. Even though he knew that we loved him, they helped him hate himself. Please don't stop writing about Exodus and the terrible, terrible harm they do to young people. I miss my boy so much.

Just a mother, Texas

A Bitter AfterTaste

By now, everyone knows about that certain strange celebrity couple who have just become parents. By no means am I against breeding...I did it myself before I knew what I was doing. But there are some people, and you know who you are...who should not do such a thing. Since they have and the proof is here, the world is wondering more about this so-called scientific religion.

I happened to watch a cable news channel where they were discussing vaguely what "these people" (that feels good to say after what people have said regarding to the gay community) believe. A major point was that they do not believe in seeking professional help from a psychiatrist(if you were to have any questions on its history, please consult Mr. Cruise, as he knows it all). They are against any medication for such things as behavioral disorders or mental issues. This in itself is dangerous. I am not saying by any stretch of the imagination that there are not crackpot psychiatrists/psychologists/therapists...because there are. After much experience in this arena with my daughter, who was diagnosed with ADHD, BiPolar Disorder and a form of Autism, I am grateful for medication and for therapists and psychiatrists.
It would be interesting for Mr. idiot to go through watching your child struggle with everyday life skills, mentally and physically be behind his/her friends in school and as a result of these struggles destroy your property, your job and your possessions. Hmmm, I wonder what he would do, where he would go for answers? Vitamins and exercise will assist someone in maintaining a healthy lifestyle, it's true. Oh yes....how could I forget...there is no such thing as a chemical imbalance! Silly me. Regardless, I know there is...I lived through amazing ordeals with my daughter for 12 years only to realize I could no longer help her, she needed something more than I could give her. I thank God there was medication to help her at the time, it helped her to focus. I know there are people whose children were overmedicated and medication was not the resolution. Everyone is different, but to say this does not exist, is so wrong.

I will never go see another movie(not that I have in many years) starring Mr. Idiot...it's sad to me that he is still making the millions. What's sadder still is that he has now reproduced, albeit artificially(hmm does that raise more questions...?)....but nonetheless, there is someone walking around this world with his genes.

It's true everyone is entitled to their own belief system. That's a good thing.

The Untogetherness of Family

Well, the big holiday is over and once again we reflect on its pure unadulterated madness. It's better to see it for what it is...insanity. But at least I didn't spend it with MY family. So I had a good time with the girl's family. In the quest to have one's family accept them for whom he/she is, I guess we must do the same in return. But I am truly puzzled by the complexities.

After going back to work and here it is, almost the weekend again....I am reminded that there are so many similarities between families of the developmentally disabled and families of those of us that trip the gay light fantastic. People don't like someone who is different, especially in a family. Many of the clients I've worked with over the years, their family has dumped them off never to be heard from again. Mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. That's why when you see someone whose family is really involved, it's very heartwarming. But then, there are those families who are involved for unpure and hateful reasons. It's better they stay away. The emotional turmoil they cause their so-called loved one is horrendous. Many of them are used for money they get from the government(don't get me started on THAT, either), which is small to begin with. There is a client of mine whose family has not been involved with him for 5 years and then comes back and tries to dictate what happens in his life. Then promises to help him with things and never follows through. All he knows is they are paying him an interest..he doesn't care what the reasons. They do not accept him as him and get mad at him when his disabilities show through. That's him. Accepting someone regardless and loving them no matter what shouldn't be such a tall order for a family. I've gone through this myself with my mother and my family. I've accepted that she does not want any part of me or my life....or even my daughter's life, her only grandchild that will ever be born. She has her reasons and that's why when I see people waste precious time being mean, unforgiving or just neglectful it makes my blood boil. In the grand scheme of things, we are on this earth so little. But accepting the good in people also means accepting the bad.

And I hate the word TOLERANCE. Straight people use it constantly about the gay community. If you break it down, it's like..."I am just tolerating you." I want to be accepted like anyone else, not just tolerated. We are all human...although I wonder about our current president.....

Easter My Keaster

Well here it is, yet another Easter holiday. Another candy holiday, it's true. We just now got through the Valentine's candy and recovered from St. Patty's day green. It's amazing to me how much religion plays a part in everything, whether or not you believe. I am not a staunch religious person. I consider myself more of the spiritual sort. I believe in the higher spirit and that things happen for a reason...there is THE PLAN. I believe there is someone watching over us. I understand the people who are upset that others are trying to change things that have always been, though I understand the meaning behind it. There is a freedom to believe and the freedom to not believe. Easter is a national holiday....though on a Sunday. I get Friday, GOOD FRIDAY off of work for a holiday I don't necessarily believe in. I believe it's turned into just another family feast, where people spend all day cooking, people eat too much, have family arguments and complain about how much they've eaten. It's Thanksgiving Revisited. Thanksgiving I understand.....Christmas, don't get me started on THAT!

My Easter plans? I am invited to go to my gf's mom's house for dinner. I am so grateful for the relationship with her mom, since I don't have one with my own mother. It's always someone else's mother who loves me. I must not be so bad after all!! More about mom(mine) later.

Easter...ain't it sumpin'!

Summer Time Ewwwws!

Now that summer's approaching, we all must warn our eyes. While sometimes there are nice hot people in shorts and swimming attire everywhere, there are some things our eyes should never see. It's something I will never understand.

Oh I've been to Wal-mart and seen the trashy side of trash. The women with bad teeth, big boobs and no bras. **SHUDDER**, the ugly hairy men daring to go sleeveless with the big beer belly and too short shorts drinking a diet pepsi(are you kidding me?)...a true poster child for lesbianism. If these people don't have enough sense to stay away from the public, they sure as hell don't have the sense to stay away from swimming attire. Now, I am no Jennifer Aniston myself, but at least I can cover myself up. I'm not saying we all should slink away and never go out if we are tipping the truck scales upward....just have enough sense to NOT wear a bikini and think you're as hot as anyone.

Give our eyes a rest for summer.

Me & A Lampshade

Well here I am, in all of my splendor, right along with my grandmother's lampshade. I generally don't like pictures of myself, but this one is almost "author" like. Someday other people will see pictures of me and I will have to deal.

To those who someday may view this blog...it really is me.

Saturday Morning Dish

It's the weekend and I am grateful for it. I am enjoying my new job. It's really refreshing. I like the clients on my caseload and they seem to like me, which is always a plus.

When I met the parents of one of my clients, an older farming couple, the father says to me after talking with me for awhile, "So what does your husband do?" How I wanted to say, "Well SHE is in the medical field!" I realize this is something that will never change, how people assume your straightness....especially for me, because I have a daughter. So instead I say, "oh I am not married." Then the father says, "Well then, you must have a pretty good life!" haha Yah actually my life is good and GAY. To many I am a single woman just working and I say I have a roommate, many people understand and see through it all I suppose. Coming out at work is not always the best solution as many of us know. But I suppose on days I think I look too butchly(my term for me) then I guess it's good to know I blend in. I just don't want to blend in by being straight. The sacrifices.

Ramblings

I've written in my live journal for the morning...but thought I might mention my thoughts here. Funny how ideas occur to you. I will be writing a true to life story about Brittany and struggles I went through and I've thought about James Frey and in some respects it's no different than a movie disclaimer that says, "some names have been changed..." or "Some facts have been changed for dramatic purposes." I guess the thing is he should have had a disclaimer if it weren't all true. Is it fiction if I change someone's name but all the facts are true? And now for something completely different and obscure:My dad and stepmother are going to visit my brother(the straight one) and his wife for Easter. He lives in Colorado and while I lived in Wyoming, I was a couple hours away from him. Even when I was single, they never did talk about seeing me, making that trip. My gf says, "that's how it is...don't want to visit the gay couple." I realize this more and more. I just don't know why it has to be that way. I say LET'S NOT VISIT THE STRAIGHT PEOPLE....you know what THEY do. hahahaha
9:45 AM

Beer

BeerBeer is nice
Beer is good
Beer is smooth going down;
Whether it’s in a mug or a cup,
It doesn’t always taste the same coming up.
There’s Miller and Bud,Michelob and Coors,
And if you have too much,You can’t always find your way to the door;
And if it’s light beer,I guess that means you can have more;
Busch, old style and old Milwaukee
Make you the life of the party that you always knew you could be-
So PBR ME ASAP!
Does it taste greatOr is it less filling?
It’s a burning question,One of which there is much debate;
So now while the beer is chilling,
I am forced to choose,Bottle or draft, light or dark;
And while those frogs make their millions,
I wonder in my sudden stupor,
Who in the hell IS George Killian?
Yes, beer is fun,
Beer is good,
Beer keeps you in the bathroom
When you should be sleeping;
And just when your head makes you swear
You’ll never do that again,
There you sit, beer in hand
Laughing with strangers and pretending you care,
At least for one more night, you philosophize life
Through suds and bubbles and you are ready to solve the world’s troubles…
At least until tomorrow
11/97
jab

New Name in the Blogosphere

Note to self(since no one else has read this thang!):

Title has changed to something more dazzling!

The Girl That Could Have Been...

It is a strange thing the way people breeze into your life and then suddenly a strong gust of wind comes along and carries them away.

A few years ago, around 2002, I worked as a night supervisor in southwest Wyoming, overseeing 6 group homes with developmentally disabled adults during the overnight shift. I was mostly out to people, though I was not involved with anyone. I met a woman who was starting to work for me on the night shift. She appeared to be somewhat masculine, dark short hair and she had that walk. I really assumed she was my "religion" so to speak. We struck up many conversations that led me to believe that she was what I call "undiscovered territory". I enjoyed talking to her and apparently she was talking alot about me to other people, wanting to know things about me. More than 1 person stated they thought she had a crush on me, as I was all she talked about. I found this fascinating and it just validated my thoughts that she was at the very least "curious". Her name was even masculine, Michaelyn...I would say "Do you think her parents were expecting a boy?" One night she says to me, "I don't understand it. You're so funny, you have a great personality....you could have any man you wanted." It's odd that someone would say that to me, because I can't say I've actually had a relationship with any man. I told her, "I don't want a man ....it's not something that makes me happy." I've tried with men, yes....there was always something missing and I never knew what it was...this is what I attempted to relay to her. Michealyn told me she understood a little more and she appeared confused. She also told me stories where people assumed she was gay, she'd been mistaken for being gay. Well, it didn't take long for the gossip mill to begin churning and people thought she was gay and were saying so. Michealyn even talked me into taking an exercise class with her during the summer. I got to know her even more, even met her 2 kids.

In 2003, I resigned and moved to Cheyenne, Wyoming to work in another facility, some 4 hours away. I returned one time to visit and I ran into Michealyn, who had quit working there. She told me she was getting married to this man she'd known for many years. She seemed excited, though inside I was saying "yah right. big mistake." I thought here is another person marrying into "the life" only later to find out it was a mistake and she'd lied about who she really was. But it's a lesson everyone has to learn on their own. I told her I was happy for her and she invited me to the wedding, though I never did hear from her or received an invitation otherwise. I have wondered whether this actually took place or not.

Now here it is, 2006....I travel to southwest Wyoming in March, St Patty's day weekend to visit my daughter who still lives there and a friend, someone who I'd worked with. I usually stay at her home while I'm in town. As it turns out, there was a big storm coming through Wyoming and I was stuck there instead of making the drive back to Iowa. My friend's husband, a deputy sheriff, came in and talked about a bad bad wreck on I80 involving a truck and there were kids.
Yesterday I called my friend to say hello and she tells me that one person was killed in that wreck. It was Michaelyn. She'd had 3 kids with this man she married, the youngest was 6 months. The kids were fine, but she'd been thrown from the truck and broke her neck. My friend said that apparently she was happy with this man. So maybe my gaydar was off, wrong or needs new batteries.

I'm surprised how this has effected me. It brings you back to how short life really is. I'll never forget the girl who could have been.....

Spiderwoman

You think you may know SpiderMAN, and you might, but you've not lived until you've seen a web of psychoticness like Spiderwoman. I am still not sure what allowed me to jump into this relationship, but I guess it's the old lesbian UHAUL joke. I met her on the internet(where else?) and moved in right away with my daughter of around 8 years old. I had to admit I didn't know much about this woman I'd given myself to. I was sure I was in love with her. She was very controlling, only wanting me to work when it was convenient for her, couldn't talk to anyone else, male or female, or she was sure I was cheating. The longest 3 months of my life. Such is my tale of woe(or WHOA, as is more appropriate).

Melissa was in the bathroom taking a bath, when I heard this talking. Not just talking, but odd talking. I knocked on the door and asked just who she was talking to, sure she was just thinking outloud.

"I'm talking to Charlotte," she says.

"Who?" I ask, still unclear.

"Charlotte," she repeats, pointing underneath the sink.
Turns out Charlotte is a spider that had taken up residence under the sink.

I remain quiet for a moment, thinking of just the right reaction. I then make some sarcastic comment about the spider, sure that this whole thing was a joke.

Melissa's face becomes red and she was clearly angry with me. "That was SO rude of you. You apologize right now and tell Charlotte that she is the prettiest spider in town!"

She had to be joking and I was a sucker for this whole charade. As I studied her face, I realize she is serious. So to appease her, I hear myself say, "I'm sorry Charlotte. You are the prettiest spider in town."

Spiderwoman...yet another lesson in psychology. I left 1 month later.

Coming Out & Family Fondling

It has always been interesting to me how other people know your sexuality before you do. I wondered how family could know...but I did have one of the strangest experiences with family and since I am hoping to be published one day, I'm sure I will use it later, too good not to.

I was a naive 23 year old, not understanding that I was a lesbian or even entertained any sexual thoughts about women. I believed I was straight. Though at the time, I worked in a nursing home and hung out with 2 women mostly. Teresa, who was a nurse, and Roxanne, who was, like me, a nursing assistant. I lived and breathed for Roxanne, who was married to a creep of a guy. But of course this was not sexual, but purely emotional. Roxanne was all I could talk about. To me, we were the closest of friends.

Cut to later when I went to visit my grandmother, where my aunt was hanging out. My aunt and I had been very close. We thought of each other as the black sheep(s) of the family. My aunt had been drinking when I saw her in the basement. We talked for awhile, then I feel her hand on my knee. Believe me, I am totally creeped out by this. She follows this with touching the side of my breast. Okay, by now I am baffled. She finally whispers, "Do you like that? Does that feel good?"

My face must have been ghost-like and my heart was beating fast. Of course, I was thinking maybe she was coming out to ME. Telling me she was gay or something. Because to me, I was straight. So I say, "Ugh, no, only when a man does it...and especially NOT when my aunt does it!" So as I get up to walk upstairs, she follows me up.

"Thank God, I was afraid you were gay!" She says.

"YOU were afraid I was gay?" I ask her.

Well, I was so horrified. My grandmother took me home. I told her about this incident. She says, "Maybe she was testing you."

I said, "Testing me for what? Herpes?" It creeped me out.

Now cut to the next day. My aunt calls me. She begins to explain that she AND my grandmother were questioning whether or not I was a lesbian. My aunt states, "Well you never bring any men home and you always talk about women."

I told my aunt, "Do me a favor...if you want to know something about me, just ask. No need for fondling!"

It was about a month later when I discovered I was pregnant.

It was about 4 years later when I discovered I really was a lesbian.

Thank God!