Tag Archives: events

What I Learned This Weekend

3 Apr

File under “Being a Newbie Homo.” Also, “Learning to Adapt to Being Gay in a Straight World.”

What I learned this weekend can be summed up in the text exchange I had with Hippie Rancher today, about my Saturday night out with two of my straight friends from high school:

HR: Did you meet lots of women?

Me: No, I did not. We stayed one place longer than we expected to hear a band B2 knows. So we didn’t make it to the girl bar.

Me: I got to be a stand0offish bitch to all the straight guys who persisted in hitting on me. On a positive note, I now realize why gay people don’t like to go to straight bars.

And, the story could end there and you’d maybe get the point, but when have I ever let a chance to tell a great story pass me by? Uh, never.

I mean… for serious. I had a wonderful, amazing weekend of chilling with fun people with (relatively) little drama, in Wichita. Friday night, hit up my first MMA fight at a venue featuring local fighters, for a  kids’ charity event.  Great group of people I met through a friend at school. Bought shots for a ring girl. Screamed and jumped up and down while guys pummeled each other. Left wanting to MMA fight. Did a little dancing. Made out with a girl on the dance floor. Left, got DIVINE street ‘dawgs from a vendor — complete with cucumbers, pickles, onions, jalapenos, and chili.  Total heartburn special. Totally worth it. And topped the night off with local greasy spoon Mexican cafe, Rene’s. Colorado burrito? Hell yes. Get one.

Here’s where it gets potentially messy. No one in the group knows I’m gay, except maybe the guy from school but we’ve never had “the” convo.  On the way to drop people off, one of the guys I danced with had me sit in his lap because we were seriously smooshed in this truck. Well, he decides to get out when they drop me off, and follow me to the house. I’m like, “Uhhh… mkay. Maybe he left his car here. Maybe he needs to pee and they’re waiting on him. Maybe he just really wants to have a great conversation.” Really? I know better than that!

But I feel like, since I’ve come out fully, that there should be some external change that other people can recognize the same way I feel a huge internal change from how my life was even three months ago.  And I am still coming to grips with having to have the “gay” conversation with almost every human being I get in to a decent conversation with. Or assumptions are made (like the one that was made this night) and then people get confused. And a little mad.

So, this guy and I sit at the dining room table, alone in B2’s house at 2 a.m. And we have an awesome conversation about spirituality and life after death, and… of all things… our mutual history with WWE/WWF wrestling.  Random, right? My kind of shit. I LOVE meeting people through completely chance encounters and having great conversation. But I digress…

A couple hours later, around 4:30 a.m., this guy says, “Well, it’s late and I’d better either leave or go to bed.”

To which I replied, “I can drive you home if you’d like.”

“You can if you want. I’m just saying that if I crash in a bed with you, there’s a small chance I’ll try to pull something on you,” he threw out there.

After a pause, I managed, “Would it help you not feel that way if I told you that I’m gay?”

Proceed with 45 minutes of him vacillating between asking me questions about being gay, to him being a jerk about the “wasted time and effort” (though he never came out and said that), to him actually STILL trying to get me to sleep with him.  F’real. I finally made the choice for him, and took his ass home.

The next day, I was pissed. Why should I have to justify my sexuality to some dipshit 25-year old kid who only followed me home because he got a boner when I sat in his lap? Why do I even care so much? But most of all: how do I keep this from happening again? I talked to HR about it, and he advocated that I be as up front as possible if a guy starts to invest time in me.  And he also suggested that I dial down the flirtatiousness.  I’m not awful. But I think I have a sort of natural charm that just happens without me realizing it. Until I’m doing it. And then it’s too late to stop.

Saturday night. B2, Virgin Mary, and I are dolled up and ready to rock. If I do say so m’self, I looked pretty awesome. Jeans and rock graffitti Chucks, mohawk in a pomp, black chiffon corset topped with a killer leather vest, 50’s June Cleaver hot pink choker beads, and a huge turquoise ring. Oh yes.

 

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In Light of Recent Darkness

22 May

For reasons I’ll refrain from elaborating on, I am compelled to mark the resurgence of my participation in the blogosphere with an entry to explain where I’ve been, and why I’m back.  Or at least acknowledge that such an absence has occurred.

Either way, I can’t just start writing again like it hasn’t been eight-plus months.  Obviously a lot has gone on in that time.  Some of which I’ll catch up on – in passing or directly – some of which is still a work in progress, and some of which is just plain done and gone.

Topics may be a bit dark, nerves may be a little raw, and posts may not be as loquaciously insightful as usual.  The style and look may morph. Old posts might disappear or change.  New people will be linked and/or joining us.

At the risk of going on and on about only tangentially related topics without saying much (I’m still percolating other entries), thanks for still being here.  In the words of one of my fave blogs: Thanks for stopping by.  I mean it.  Really.

New Lease

19 Jul

This has been the Year of the Shitty Tenants back at our property in Virginia.  There was the gay couple in the basement who faked a job transfer to Qatar to move out three weeks early on their lease with no notice without paying the last month’s rent, without paying ANY month’s rent on time, and having bounced three checks to us including their security deposit.  There was the crazy girl who lived upstairs with her cats that we didn’t know about, driving our perfectly good tenant/her roommate insane, and bouncing checks and paying late and using her security deposit for her last month’s rent, leaving us with over $600 in unpaid utilities.  Now we have a two-month college intern who is apparently as dumb as the day is long (on a REALLY long day), who has a dog with a leaky bladder that has peed all over the house and who can’t seem to grasp the concept that we did NOT have the front lawn re-seeded and a dog run put in (to the tune of $2,000) so his dog could shit all over the new grass. 

Thankfully, we are about to get a fresh new start.  Starting September 1, we will have all new tenants.  Tenants who have had rental applications checked, and paid deposits already, and have jobs that don’t require last minute transfers to exotic locales.  But just in case, we’re thinking about trying out a new, more to-the-point lease with them:

Name: _______________________________________
Phone:________________________________________
Stanford-Binet IQ:_______________________________

       Rent:  $____.00 per month, payable on time or late fee assessed: $50 for first late month,  $100 for second.  After second month we will begin taking body parts.
       Fee for bounced checks:  you will be charged $40 for the first bounced check, 1/8 of your rent for the second, 1/4 of your rent for the third, 1/2 for the fourth, etc.  If you don’t “get” this, you will be charged $150 for lying on Line 3 above.  Bounce as many checks as you want, we’re saving for a trip to Disney World.
       Yard care policy: grass is to be cut and yard watered when necessary.  No dogs are allowed loose in front yard under any circumstances.  If any dog doo is found in the front yard it will be carefully placed on the hood of your car.  If you don’t mind it in our ‘hood, we don’t mind it on yours.  Should there be repeated infractions, you will be called daily by Keyven, who will loudly repeat the word “poop” in your ear until you get the idea.
       Giving notice of vacation of property:  we have noticed that some tenants have not noticed they are leaving, and have not given proper notice.  Notice that if 30 days notice not given, you will notice some big, ugly wrestlers who have come to help you move.  Notice you will not like where they move you to.
       Respectfully,  Your Landlords

I have to give credit to my MIL for coming up with this after her last trip over to our place to show it, only to find a yard full of dog crap.  Ahhh…. if only.

Thoughts on Why My Week Sucked

6 Jul

In my attempt to re-ignite my blogging habit, I’ve tried to refrain from using my blog(s) solely as means to vent. But it seems that, having done myself the great disservice of moving halfway across the country from the vast majority of my closest friends, this method will have to do. That is, until I can pick up the phone or text and be sitting on someone’s couch with a drink in a half hour or less.

This weekend really sucked.  To start, I’m not a fan of holidays. I wasn’t to begin with, and a year of being depressed and crying at pretty much every major celebration certainly didn’t help that cause.  One would think that having Tim back would make things just peachy.  But one would be wrong. I think it’s going to take about a year of adjustment to the year that was spent apart.

Where was I? Oh, yes… the holiday.  To me, holidays are synonymous with: extra stress, everything being closed, traffic/travel sucking, and trying not to spend an entire weekend eating like crap. Add to this weekend’s past one that we’ve endured a week of feeling like we live in a war zone, thanks to the rednecks and their penchant for cheap explosives.  Last year, I was so far out in the boonies that I didn’t think about it.  This year, we had mini-Armageddon 25 feet from out backdoor every.single.night. Fireworks curfew is 10?  Oh, you won’t mind if we go until 10:30 or so, right?  I mean, even though we’ve been setting them off since 7:30 for the past four nights in a row. And last night?  I actually had to go over there and be the asshole neighbor who asked them to stop.  At 12:20 in the morning.  “Um, excuse me.  I know you probably don’t care because you’ve been drinking beer since 10 a.m., but I’ve got a toddler who’s trying to sleep and my husband and I both have PTSD and get a little twitchy after five straight hours of this shit.  So, if you could cut it out, I’d appreciate it.”

I guess my body’s way of starting off last week by sleeping for almost two days straight was supposed to offset the lack of sleep the rest of the week.  Somehow, I still ended up napping today from 2:30 to 7, further adding to my sense of discombobulation and grouchiness.  And speaking of grouchiness… if there is a pill to offset that homicidal feeling I get when I don’t get enough sleep, I would almost be willing to try it.  I spent most of yesterday and today snarking at Tim over stupid shit, and just generally being an insufferable bitch about things.  It seems ridiculous in hindsight, but at the time when he is asking me retarded male questions, not reading my mind, or even so much as breathing incorrectly, I feel like my eyeballs are going to pop out of my head from the rage. I think Valium would do just fine.  Maybe missing yoga class for two weeks straight has something to do with it, too.

Lest I forget another kick in the proverbial nut sack, today is the anniversary of my first wedding.  I guess that makes it an ex-iversary.  Which, normally I don’t really think about.  But thanks to my subscription to the extended family nationwide e-group for the sharing of birthdays, anniversaries, and all things pointless and inane (like what business we should boycott because they support gay rights, or the weather in some far corner of some state you’ll never visit), I was reminded by e-mail that today was (or would have been) my sixth year anniversary.  Brought to you by the group of people who most enjoy reminding you that you’re the only person from your generation of the family who has been divorced (out of about 70+ various layers of cousins). Let’s never mind the fact that I’ve been divorced for four years, or that this happens every year, and every year the moderators say the fixed the “glitch” that keeps causing the reminder of this joyous occasion to pop up.  Happy ex-iversary to me.

This is probably all delayed/compounded/subconscious stress over the month I’m about to undertake: another full-time school|house remodel|raising a toddler|Tim back in grad school full-time|long-distance managing a property that is a pain in the ass extravaganza.  But I’m ready. Even if I have to drink every night, I will make it. And maybe by the end of the summer, I’ll get to sleep for the first time in eight months without the use of Advil PM.  Until then, it’s fun and excitement at our casa! Buckle your safety belts, kids. This ride’s about to leave the station.

Rock Out with My ‘Hawk Out

27 May

For quite some time now, I’ve been itching for a new ‘do in the coiffure department. Not just any cut. Something different, something crazy.  I contemplated head-shaving but a) I’ve been there, done that; and b) my sister’s wedding is in December and I wouldn’t do that to her. Then I got on a mohawk kick. Shaved sides, lots of ‘tude… but I wasn’t too sure about pulling that off.  I finally found a pic online of a cut that I really liked.  Long on the sides/back, and spiked on the top. I decided to take advantage of being in D.C. for getting this done because (no offense to the stylists in Pittsburg) I couldn’t be sure to find someone there who could get what I was going for.  Extremely edgy cuts don’t happen often in southeast Kansas.

After some searching of online reviews, I came across Bang Salon in D.C. They have a neat but to-the-point site at www.bangsalon.com. The salon on U Street was most frequently mentioned, so I browsed the stylists there.  On Sunday, I called to see when I could get in for a cut.  Thankfully, since I was available during the day, I got in right away.  The receptionist recommended Camden for my “something kinda crazy” request.  And I was not disappointed.  I knew as soon as I saw Camden, I was in good hands.  Awesome rocker hair, tats wherever skin was visible, and just the right amount of piercings.  The cute factor didn’t hurt either. (He’s married.  Sorry, ladies.)

   As I explained to Camden what I wanted, I appreciated the fact that he maIMAGE_018de sure I understood what I was getting in to, and he IMAGE_019IMG_2262seemed like he was prepared to tell me no or talk me out of it if need be.  But I must have convinced him that I was ready fo r the craziness that was about to take place on my head.  We were soon set for cutting.  During the cut, I was super-excited about how it was coming together. Afterwards, he styled and spiked it up in a sweet mohawk for me.  I gotta say, I am not a fan of the first pic because the lighting on my face sucks.  But I will post it anyway, because I love you guys.  The back shot is much mo’ betta. 

Unfortunately, the D.C. weather was not in the mood for a IMG_2267‘hawk that day.  Even with an umbrella, the rain and winds gusts on my walk back to the Metro decimated my ‘do.  Tim & I played around with the camera before bed (not like THAT, you pervs) and got a couple of cute shots of my hair cut.  Even when I don’t spike it up, it’ll still be a fun cut.  I can pull the sides & back up and it almost looks like boy-cut, which is uber-flattering to my face. I can wear it flat and look semi-“normal”.  Or just freakin’ messy bedhead. The possibilities are endless! 

Although he especially seems to excel at edgy cuts, I’m sure Camden is awesome at a variety of other styles.  If you need a new salon in D.C., I highly recommend checking him out at Bang.  I will definitely be back whenever I’m in town for a touch-up.  🙂