My Robotic Dog..."Maybe my laser eyes can shoot off his head".
Maybe if I jump on him...
Maybe if I scar him for life with my claws he'll give it up already. Sheesh...IT'S MINE!!! MINE!!! MINE!!! (think Finding Nemo seagulls)
Friday, April 29, 2005
Pooper Friday!
Harlow has a bit of an O.C.D. when it comes to TOYS!!!!
My Robotic Dog..."Maybe my laser eyes can shoot off his head".
Maybe if I jump on him...
Maybe if I scar him for life with my claws he'll give it up already. Sheesh...IT'S MINE!!! MINE!!! MINE!!! (think Finding Nemo seagulls)
My Robotic Dog..."Maybe my laser eyes can shoot off his head".
Maybe if I jump on him...
Maybe if I scar him for life with my claws he'll give it up already. Sheesh...IT'S MINE!!! MINE!!! MINE!!! (think Finding Nemo seagulls)
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Stalker Man
Tonight I was reminded of an incident involving a stalker related story that happened when I was about 20 years old. I remember it well and it was while I was living with my biological mother. For clarification, I was not the one being stalked, flattering though that may have been. The stalkie however was my mom.
My mom is a career banker you might say. She's been working in the banking industry for almost all of her life. In that business of taking peoples money you have a lot of interactions with customers face to face. She had recently been divorced and needed a change of scenery from the branch that her ex also banked at, so took a new position in another town.
In this new bank there was a customer who had a reputation for stalking the tellers and harassing them. One by one they had all been afflicted by this guy. Well, my mom became the new target only she drove 25 miles from another town. It didn't take him long to figure out where we lived. The first time he showed up at our place we called the police and they of course gave the whole "we can't do anything, blah, blah, blah."
Weeks went by with my mom having this guy showing up at the bank and waiting for her to go to lunch, to go home, to go to the store. Well, at this same time my wisdom teeth started to cause me some grief. My mom had to take me in early one morning to have oral surgery. They pulled all 4 of them at once, while I was completely out of course. Once she got me home, she had to head to the bank. She made sure that my pain killers were next to me and all my other necessities. I laid on the couch the whole day sleeping. I was supposed to be studying for a botany final. I would wake up and read and then the pain would start coming and I would take another pain killer and soon the words on the pages would start to move around. Back to sleep I would go. In between sleep and wakefulness, things like cards would be on the coffee table, and even a friend sitting in a chair watching me sleep.
Well, some time late in the afternoon or early evening, I'm waking up on the couch and looking out the front window which has the blind partially pulled. I thought I saw someone with yellow rubber gloves walking up to my door. At first I thought it was the drugs or something, but then I see them walk back out the gate.
IT'S HIM!!!! I jump up off the couch and as fast as I can I go running out the front door. As I come around the corner of the garage there he is putting a sign on the door. He must not of realized that I was home because the look on his face was such a startled and shocked one. I started yelling at him, that he better get the fuck out of here and that I better not ever see him around there ever again. He quickly got in his truck and drove off.
Now I need to you think about this moment for just a second. I've just had four, FOUR wisdom teeth pulled that morning. Two of them were stitched and I'm drugged up plenty good. As he drives away, I start to shake and I look down at my feet and lean against the garage. I'm standing there and blood is dripping on my white socks, running down my chin on to my t-shirt and my tighty whities. I realize at that moment that I must of looked pretty scary standing there in my undies, blood and gauze and some unintelligible language spewing at him. No wonder he took off. In my head it sounded clear, but what came out is beyond me. I had so much gauze in my mouth I looked like a chipmunk having a really bad day.
This guy never did come back. I don't know if was me or not, but that was one messed up day.
My mom is a career banker you might say. She's been working in the banking industry for almost all of her life. In that business of taking peoples money you have a lot of interactions with customers face to face. She had recently been divorced and needed a change of scenery from the branch that her ex also banked at, so took a new position in another town.
In this new bank there was a customer who had a reputation for stalking the tellers and harassing them. One by one they had all been afflicted by this guy. Well, my mom became the new target only she drove 25 miles from another town. It didn't take him long to figure out where we lived. The first time he showed up at our place we called the police and they of course gave the whole "we can't do anything, blah, blah, blah."
Weeks went by with my mom having this guy showing up at the bank and waiting for her to go to lunch, to go home, to go to the store. Well, at this same time my wisdom teeth started to cause me some grief. My mom had to take me in early one morning to have oral surgery. They pulled all 4 of them at once, while I was completely out of course. Once she got me home, she had to head to the bank. She made sure that my pain killers were next to me and all my other necessities. I laid on the couch the whole day sleeping. I was supposed to be studying for a botany final. I would wake up and read and then the pain would start coming and I would take another pain killer and soon the words on the pages would start to move around. Back to sleep I would go. In between sleep and wakefulness, things like cards would be on the coffee table, and even a friend sitting in a chair watching me sleep.
Well, some time late in the afternoon or early evening, I'm waking up on the couch and looking out the front window which has the blind partially pulled. I thought I saw someone with yellow rubber gloves walking up to my door. At first I thought it was the drugs or something, but then I see them walk back out the gate.
IT'S HIM!!!! I jump up off the couch and as fast as I can I go running out the front door. As I come around the corner of the garage there he is putting a sign on the door. He must not of realized that I was home because the look on his face was such a startled and shocked one. I started yelling at him, that he better get the fuck out of here and that I better not ever see him around there ever again. He quickly got in his truck and drove off.
Now I need to you think about this moment for just a second. I've just had four, FOUR wisdom teeth pulled that morning. Two of them were stitched and I'm drugged up plenty good. As he drives away, I start to shake and I look down at my feet and lean against the garage. I'm standing there and blood is dripping on my white socks, running down my chin on to my t-shirt and my tighty whities. I realize at that moment that I must of looked pretty scary standing there in my undies, blood and gauze and some unintelligible language spewing at him. No wonder he took off. In my head it sounded clear, but what came out is beyond me. I had so much gauze in my mouth I looked like a chipmunk having a really bad day.
This guy never did come back. I don't know if was me or not, but that was one messed up day.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Intollerance+Love=UNDERSTANDING
So I spent the majority of the weekend outside away from the powerful lure of my sleek, elegant G4 and it's sexy monitor that holds me captive with it's vast 21" surface and color rendering that is to die for. I think that even Nicho was impressed with my self control and limited time in the back bedroom of the house.
Now that I'm sporting my first sun kissed glow of the season, I suspect that I'll be spending less and less time online and more of it outside. So if I haven't made comments or posts, please don't feel like I've abandoned the blogosphere, I promise to try and maintain some pressence here and at your local hangout too.
Last week, I got a little bitter about some issues that hit the media, one of those being the Texas legislature and their proposed ban against Gays and Lesbians being foster parents under the guise of 'protecting our children'. First and foremost, I want to thank all of you that commented and were so very supportive of the idea that I would be a perfectly good parent. I believe that too. Secondly, I wanna say that I'm not usually that sarcastic with a blanket comment like that. I'm usually a much more thoughtful individual when it comes to defending rights etc.
I'm always chastising Nicho for lumping Christians as a whole into one bucket, because it certainly is not true that all Christians are the same. The same is true for the good people of Texas, I know that there are people there who believe in a fair and equal standing for all members of this country. One individual who reminded me that people are capable of change or acceptance, is Andrea, who commented on her traditional values and beliefs, but was willing to accept the fact that just because I'm gay, doesn't make me any less of parent. It reminded me that people are able to adjust their levels of acceptance. This is something that I have always believed, something that I try very hard to hold onto. My belief in humanity is what keeps me from slipping into the angry homo mode.
As a missionary, I spent a great deal of time meeting all walks of life. At first I thought my sole purpose was to change these individuals, convert them to my faith's way of thinking. As time went on, I found myself struggling with the approach of my senior missionaries. Something in me was so conflicted by what we were trying to do. At some point I became a senior missionary and I had more control over our (my companion and I)approach. Instead of drumming the same old script, we found ourselves becoming invested in the lives of the people we came into contact with. I was in the South East Asian program in Georgia and spent almost a year working with Lao speaking people. I didn't know a drop of Lao and neither did my companion. We had no knowledge of Lao culture or social interactions. It was the toughest assignment of my mission, but by far the most rewarding experience of my life.
Instead of focusing on a message, we learned to focus on getting to know and understand their perspective on life. In a short amount of time, we found ourselves embraced by this group of individuals that are forever a part of who I am. The lessons they taught me have shaped who I am today. I never thought that their lessons of struggle and survival, of starting over in a foreign land and finding a new way of life would ever have any bearing on me at that time, but I have reflected on them constantly through out my life as I have struggled against obstacles or hurrdles.
While I know that we currently are dealing with so many social and moral issues here that seem bitterly unfair, even unjust, they cannot compare to the attrocities that are happening everywhere as I type. I know that I'm fortunate to have the liberties that I do, the freedoms that I enjoy. I know that I'm wealthy beyond many both spiritually and monitarily.
I want to believe in humanity, I want to have faith in you and your ability to open your minds, in your ability to open other people's minds to the idea that we are all part of the same society; that we all contribute positively as well as negatively. We can't all be the same or we risk losing that diversity that makes life rich and fulfilling. The image of a tapastry or a flower border being all the same color and same texture is boring and lacks visual appeal, but when you throw in other colors and textures that compliment one another you see how they accentuate the best parts of the other. People are no different, because of the love I received from the Lao's, they brought out those facets of who I am and enhanced them. I can only hope that I was able to do the same for them in some small way. I cannot imagine that I gave them nearly as much as they have given me, for it has lasted for more than 10 years now and still I am able to pull from that resevoir of love.
So when I hear about the sanctity of marriage, the safety of our children it's hard to not feel like we are stepping backwards, but I remind myself to have faith in humanity, to trust that what is 'RIGHT' and 'FAIR', all things that are 'JUST', will prevail...eventually. We all have an obligation to lead by example, nothing is ever gained by throwing around words of hate and intollerance. So Texas, I'm sorry for being intollerant and mean spirited towards the good people who reside there. I believe in you too.
Now that I'm sporting my first sun kissed glow of the season, I suspect that I'll be spending less and less time online and more of it outside. So if I haven't made comments or posts, please don't feel like I've abandoned the blogosphere, I promise to try and maintain some pressence here and at your local hangout too.
Last week, I got a little bitter about some issues that hit the media, one of those being the Texas legislature and their proposed ban against Gays and Lesbians being foster parents under the guise of 'protecting our children'. First and foremost, I want to thank all of you that commented and were so very supportive of the idea that I would be a perfectly good parent. I believe that too. Secondly, I wanna say that I'm not usually that sarcastic with a blanket comment like that. I'm usually a much more thoughtful individual when it comes to defending rights etc.
I'm always chastising Nicho for lumping Christians as a whole into one bucket, because it certainly is not true that all Christians are the same. The same is true for the good people of Texas, I know that there are people there who believe in a fair and equal standing for all members of this country. One individual who reminded me that people are capable of change or acceptance, is Andrea, who commented on her traditional values and beliefs, but was willing to accept the fact that just because I'm gay, doesn't make me any less of parent. It reminded me that people are able to adjust their levels of acceptance. This is something that I have always believed, something that I try very hard to hold onto. My belief in humanity is what keeps me from slipping into the angry homo mode.
As a missionary, I spent a great deal of time meeting all walks of life. At first I thought my sole purpose was to change these individuals, convert them to my faith's way of thinking. As time went on, I found myself struggling with the approach of my senior missionaries. Something in me was so conflicted by what we were trying to do. At some point I became a senior missionary and I had more control over our (my companion and I)approach. Instead of drumming the same old script, we found ourselves becoming invested in the lives of the people we came into contact with. I was in the South East Asian program in Georgia and spent almost a year working with Lao speaking people. I didn't know a drop of Lao and neither did my companion. We had no knowledge of Lao culture or social interactions. It was the toughest assignment of my mission, but by far the most rewarding experience of my life.
Instead of focusing on a message, we learned to focus on getting to know and understand their perspective on life. In a short amount of time, we found ourselves embraced by this group of individuals that are forever a part of who I am. The lessons they taught me have shaped who I am today. I never thought that their lessons of struggle and survival, of starting over in a foreign land and finding a new way of life would ever have any bearing on me at that time, but I have reflected on them constantly through out my life as I have struggled against obstacles or hurrdles.
While I know that we currently are dealing with so many social and moral issues here that seem bitterly unfair, even unjust, they cannot compare to the attrocities that are happening everywhere as I type. I know that I'm fortunate to have the liberties that I do, the freedoms that I enjoy. I know that I'm wealthy beyond many both spiritually and monitarily.
I want to believe in humanity, I want to have faith in you and your ability to open your minds, in your ability to open other people's minds to the idea that we are all part of the same society; that we all contribute positively as well as negatively. We can't all be the same or we risk losing that diversity that makes life rich and fulfilling. The image of a tapastry or a flower border being all the same color and same texture is boring and lacks visual appeal, but when you throw in other colors and textures that compliment one another you see how they accentuate the best parts of the other. People are no different, because of the love I received from the Lao's, they brought out those facets of who I am and enhanced them. I can only hope that I was able to do the same for them in some small way. I cannot imagine that I gave them nearly as much as they have given me, for it has lasted for more than 10 years now and still I am able to pull from that resevoir of love.
So when I hear about the sanctity of marriage, the safety of our children it's hard to not feel like we are stepping backwards, but I remind myself to have faith in humanity, to trust that what is 'RIGHT' and 'FAIR', all things that are 'JUST', will prevail...eventually. We all have an obligation to lead by example, nothing is ever gained by throwing around words of hate and intollerance. So Texas, I'm sorry for being intollerant and mean spirited towards the good people who reside there. I believe in you too.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Saturday Morning Plant Sale...
Well, Greenthumb got his plant fix on today. We started off with a nice breakfast and good coffee. Then it was off to the annual Arboretum Plant sale. IT WAS HUGE!!!!
We had a great time wandering up and down the isles of plants. We picked up several new items for the garden including a lilac, a cool new vine, a hosta, peonie, and several others. I'll be sure to update Project Greenthumb with more photos. After we got home, I spent the rest of the day working in the yard. You can see the progress on the front walk way here.
We had a great time wandering up and down the isles of plants. We picked up several new items for the garden including a lilac, a cool new vine, a hosta, peonie, and several others. I'll be sure to update Project Greenthumb with more photos. After we got home, I spent the rest of the day working in the yard. You can see the progress on the front walk way here.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Wow!!! Do you see this TEXAS???
You Are 60% Normal (Really Normal) |
 Otherwise known as the normal amount of normal You're like most people most of the time But you've got those quirks that make you endearing You're unique, yes... but not frighteningly so! |
OLLIE IS HOME!!!! THANK YOU ALL!!!!
Hey All, our good friend Mamaramma has her Ollie home safe and sound. You can click over to the report from her. Thanks for all the warm wishes and good vibes you sent out today. You all RAWK the blogosphere.
Pooped Pooper Friday
Oh it's a hard knock life...ya right, move over dog.
HUH???
Oh..it's you.
Now you see how it all works around the homo.
HUH???
Oh..it's you.
Now you see how it all works around the homo.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Shout Out to Skanky & Westside Mamma
There are only two people that I know of that will totally get what this sign means to me, but the meaning of the sign is self explanatory. Many thanks to Susie for sharing this fun little thing. After yesterdays subcranial implosion this is just what the doctor ordered.
You can create your own Neon Sign.
FLEX SPD!!!
I used to have muskles a plenty, sadly they are all soft and jello like these days. So I had Nicho pick my best ones and shoot...over and over and over until he got it right...so I guess it's not self taken, but if I failed to represent this time, HDL was gonna show up on my door step and woop my ass.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
And once again, we are relegated to the back of the bus...
Ignorant ASSWIPES
This is just one more reason why you should be skirred of the homosexual, that we would be foster parents to your unwanted children and GOD forbid that we should make you look bad by being better at nurturing and raising children than your stupid ass hetro fucktards who can't control themselves.
I'm getting really tired of my government telling me I'm not good enough because of my orientation. I know I should be having reasonable thoughts in my head right now and maybe they'll come later, but right now, it's making my head want to explode.
This is just one more reason why you should be skirred of the homosexual, that we would be foster parents to your unwanted children and GOD forbid that we should make you look bad by being better at nurturing and raising children than your stupid ass hetro fucktards who can't control themselves.
I'm getting really tired of my government telling me I'm not good enough because of my orientation. I know I should be having reasonable thoughts in my head right now and maybe they'll come later, but right now, it's making my head want to explode.
What Rejected Crayon Color are you?
I got this from John Boy today...it totally cracked me up when I found out what color I was. Check it out! Thanks John!!!
You are |
 |
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
My Maternal Maddness (continued)
Maternal Maddness Part 1
I've been meaning to get back to this post, but after writing the first part I was having trouble understanding where it was that I was trying to go with it. It got even harder after reading all the comments filled with warmth and encouragement. As I re-read my previous post, it does seem like a praise to my step-mom and I suppose that I wanted to convey that there is a strong case for the feelings that I feel for her and I will always credit her with my upbringing.
The thing is, my biological mother and I have not spoken in over 2yrs now. We had a big falling out right after a Christmas get together. It all started with a letter from her to me, expressing a lot of hard and hurt feelings directed at me. This letter caught me so off gaurd, I can't even tell you the shock and confusion it initially caused me. I really didn't know what to make of it, but I can tell that my emotions went from confused to very angry and hurt.
I don't need to go into details about what was said or who said what first etc. What I can say is that I replied shortly there after with a very harsh smack down. Other letters were written and apologies were offered by me in my last letter to her. There were over 20 instances of sorry, forgive me, I apologize and so on. It was met with more of the same accusations and pain and anger and hurt, but no return of the sentiment.
I told her no more letters, that we need to talk in person if we are going to get through this. She called me one evening while I was out in the garden, it was the last time that we talked. It didn't go well and it ended with me yelling at her and hanging up on her. It's not something I'm proud of, it's not even like me to get to that point. I hate that this has even happened.
This is the thing that I was going to write about as a second part, but I had thought to do it in a different way. But now I'm faced with some things and I feel that I need to handle it differently. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about what has happened. It angers me sometimes if I think about it too much. Recently, I sent an email to a friend of hers and inquired as to what to do.
She replied and as a result there are things that are going through my mind. At first, my intention was to determine if I needed to shoulder all the responsibility in this matter and let her be absolved of her part so that we could get on with our relationship. That's been the biggest road block for me through all this, her unapologetic attitude towards me. It has burned in my core and it makes me angry everytime I dwell on it. So I inquired about what to do only to find myself getting angry again. Today I said that I'm not ready to do this if she can't handle that aspect of my reaction to all of this. It was said that she would not tolerate me yelling, being angry and confrontational. I basically said that I'm obviously not over this enough to be the one to initiate this and so, I was not going to persue this at this time.
I got a response saying that she had found a councilor for us to meet with initially for the first couple of times, midway between our homes. We live a considerable distance from each other, and so this has only added to the fracture. While the very reasonably minded part of me views this as a good place to start mending or whatever, there is a part of me that asks what do I want from this? Is this something I want to fix?
I have not spoken with my grandfather on my dad's side in almost 10 years now. We had a huge falling out, over things that surprised me more than anything. I realize now that it wasn't me, but him. I also realized that my grandmother did a lot to shelter us from him and his temper and personality. He won't even stop by the house when I'm in town visiting my parents. I came to Thanksgiving one time, and he was there when I arrived. He picked himself up and left with in 10 minutes of me arriving. I know that he will never let this go. I have had a lot of time to understand this situation and it's not the same issue as with my mom.
What I do know, is that in life you have so many chances to get something right. One thing that I'm not good at is interpersonal relationships with people. I have distanced myself from so many people over the years, people that I love a great deal. I know that there is a direct link to years of pain and hurt from others growing up and I understand that dynamic. It's a tug and pull thing for me, I want to have close friends and connection, but I quietly receed into the back over time. A part of me is looking at this as an opportunity to grow and get it right. But there is another part of me that says this is dangerous for me emotionally.
This isn't a very cohiesive piece and it may not provide you enough details and that's okay. I just needed to put this down for me. It's been a long day.
I just re-read some of this and I realized an important aspect of relationships for me. The only people that I'm continually close to emotionally, even being miles apart, are those individuals that I have an unconditional love for and with. I know that when I'm with them that they love me for who I am no matter what. In return, I feel completely the same way. I have never had an unconditional relationship with my grandfather, nor with my mother. I guess it has to be all or nothing with me on that one in order to feel safe. But is that the answer? Is that the way it should be?
I've been meaning to get back to this post, but after writing the first part I was having trouble understanding where it was that I was trying to go with it. It got even harder after reading all the comments filled with warmth and encouragement. As I re-read my previous post, it does seem like a praise to my step-mom and I suppose that I wanted to convey that there is a strong case for the feelings that I feel for her and I will always credit her with my upbringing.
The thing is, my biological mother and I have not spoken in over 2yrs now. We had a big falling out right after a Christmas get together. It all started with a letter from her to me, expressing a lot of hard and hurt feelings directed at me. This letter caught me so off gaurd, I can't even tell you the shock and confusion it initially caused me. I really didn't know what to make of it, but I can tell that my emotions went from confused to very angry and hurt.
I don't need to go into details about what was said or who said what first etc. What I can say is that I replied shortly there after with a very harsh smack down. Other letters were written and apologies were offered by me in my last letter to her. There were over 20 instances of sorry, forgive me, I apologize and so on. It was met with more of the same accusations and pain and anger and hurt, but no return of the sentiment.
I told her no more letters, that we need to talk in person if we are going to get through this. She called me one evening while I was out in the garden, it was the last time that we talked. It didn't go well and it ended with me yelling at her and hanging up on her. It's not something I'm proud of, it's not even like me to get to that point. I hate that this has even happened.
This is the thing that I was going to write about as a second part, but I had thought to do it in a different way. But now I'm faced with some things and I feel that I need to handle it differently. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about what has happened. It angers me sometimes if I think about it too much. Recently, I sent an email to a friend of hers and inquired as to what to do.
She replied and as a result there are things that are going through my mind. At first, my intention was to determine if I needed to shoulder all the responsibility in this matter and let her be absolved of her part so that we could get on with our relationship. That's been the biggest road block for me through all this, her unapologetic attitude towards me. It has burned in my core and it makes me angry everytime I dwell on it. So I inquired about what to do only to find myself getting angry again. Today I said that I'm not ready to do this if she can't handle that aspect of my reaction to all of this. It was said that she would not tolerate me yelling, being angry and confrontational. I basically said that I'm obviously not over this enough to be the one to initiate this and so, I was not going to persue this at this time.
I got a response saying that she had found a councilor for us to meet with initially for the first couple of times, midway between our homes. We live a considerable distance from each other, and so this has only added to the fracture. While the very reasonably minded part of me views this as a good place to start mending or whatever, there is a part of me that asks what do I want from this? Is this something I want to fix?
I have not spoken with my grandfather on my dad's side in almost 10 years now. We had a huge falling out, over things that surprised me more than anything. I realize now that it wasn't me, but him. I also realized that my grandmother did a lot to shelter us from him and his temper and personality. He won't even stop by the house when I'm in town visiting my parents. I came to Thanksgiving one time, and he was there when I arrived. He picked himself up and left with in 10 minutes of me arriving. I know that he will never let this go. I have had a lot of time to understand this situation and it's not the same issue as with my mom.
What I do know, is that in life you have so many chances to get something right. One thing that I'm not good at is interpersonal relationships with people. I have distanced myself from so many people over the years, people that I love a great deal. I know that there is a direct link to years of pain and hurt from others growing up and I understand that dynamic. It's a tug and pull thing for me, I want to have close friends and connection, but I quietly receed into the back over time. A part of me is looking at this as an opportunity to grow and get it right. But there is another part of me that says this is dangerous for me emotionally.
This isn't a very cohiesive piece and it may not provide you enough details and that's okay. I just needed to put this down for me. It's been a long day.
I just re-read some of this and I realized an important aspect of relationships for me. The only people that I'm continually close to emotionally, even being miles apart, are those individuals that I have an unconditional love for and with. I know that when I'm with them that they love me for who I am no matter what. In return, I feel completely the same way. I have never had an unconditional relationship with my grandfather, nor with my mother. I guess it has to be all or nothing with me on that one in order to feel safe. But is that the answer? Is that the way it should be?
Sunday, April 17, 2005
I'm a Susie-Cat
In the spirit of recent acusations of Dooce-copying, I'm copy-catting Susie with her inspiriational Sunday posts.
May you find one thing today that evokes a smile, a treasured memory or the closeness of those you love.
Joseph 4:17
I have a bouqet of these on the dining room table right now. They make me smile, remind me of home and my grandmother and they are Nicho's favorite. No one ever said that you couldn't have it all right? May you all be so fortunate to have so much.
May you find one thing today that evokes a smile, a treasured memory or the closeness of those you love.
Joseph 4:17
I have a bouqet of these on the dining room table right now. They make me smile, remind me of home and my grandmother and they are Nicho's favorite. No one ever said that you couldn't have it all right? May you all be so fortunate to have so much.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Self Portrait Day
It's supposed to be Elvis Self Portrait today. I was going to do something really lame and dorky, but I'm having a rotten evening and I have to stay true to the spirit of myself tonight. Sometimes you can be so caught up in your own frustration that you forget that you are treating those you love the most the worst. Okay, well maybe not the worst. But they certainly can be your catch all when there is nothing and no one else around.
It didn't help that things at work did not go as hoped today. I hate it when I feel like I'm being manipulated, and I totally felt like I was being played out today. This is not to say that tonight that I came home and took out my disappointment over today out on the man and the dog. But I hate it when I make him feel disregarded in things. Apparently this is something I do all to well to often. I even ask him for his ideas and then poo poo them. I'm trying to figure out what it is that I can't seem to let go of here. Why can't I be excited or enthusiastic with him about ideas? I think I just don't know how to be collaborative about things in a relationship. I think I'm too tired to figure it out here tonight. Do you have similar situations? Or is my worst fear that this is something that I'm in the minority on?
So HDL...Spoony...I'm sorry that I didn't get on board. It's a sad boy SPD at homo central.
It didn't help that things at work did not go as hoped today. I hate it when I feel like I'm being manipulated, and I totally felt like I was being played out today. This is not to say that tonight that I came home and took out my disappointment over today out on the man and the dog. But I hate it when I make him feel disregarded in things. Apparently this is something I do all to well to often. I even ask him for his ideas and then poo poo them. I'm trying to figure out what it is that I can't seem to let go of here. Why can't I be excited or enthusiastic with him about ideas? I think I just don't know how to be collaborative about things in a relationship. I think I'm too tired to figure it out here tonight. Do you have similar situations? Or is my worst fear that this is something that I'm in the minority on?
So HDL...Spoony...I'm sorry that I didn't get on board. It's a sad boy SPD at homo central.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Is this funny to you? Ya...that's what I thought.
Ever have one of those inside jokes that only you and your closest friends laugh at? I have one of those jokes that I still laugh about with a couple of my friends and it's been several years now. I have these two whacky redheaded ladies that live down in Portland, M&H. They are truly my best friends and we lived next to each other for a couple years. I would even classify them as family.
We were known to road trip it here and there for the day. It was on one of these infamous road trips to the coast on a wet and stormy day that a funny thing happened. We were riding along and just talking about this and that and I was relating what happened to my cousin and her dog when we were roommates. She had this old Scotty dog named Kipper. I was with her the night that we had to say good-bye to Kipper and how we held him until he was gone. I was talking about how we loaded him up and took him up to our home town in White Salmon which is along the Columbia River. It was such sad time.
Just as I was telling about how we were going to go up there to bury him at the old homestead, M. chimes in from the back seat before I can say anything and says rather matter of factly, 'What did you do, throw him off the bridge into the river?'
H. looks at me and I'm just stunned. She looks nervously at me as she drives waiting to see what I'm going to say. M. looks at me like what? All of a sudden I just busted up laughing and we all started laughing so hard we nearly wet ourselves. I guess M. thought things were getting a little to heavy inside the moving vehicle. She really knows how to take the edge off.
Well, every now and then this comes up and we all start laughing. Yesterday I get an email from M. called bad parenting. This is what I found attached:
I responded back, "That's awful!!! That's worse than throwing the dead dog off the bridge."
She wrote back saying my response was funnier than the clip. I promptly said that what's really sad is that we're the only ones that get it. Everyone else is looking at us and saying, 'Sick Fucks!' Oh man, that's when the LOL's really started going back and forth. It's true, I'm a really sick, sick, sick fuck...sometimes.
We were known to road trip it here and there for the day. It was on one of these infamous road trips to the coast on a wet and stormy day that a funny thing happened. We were riding along and just talking about this and that and I was relating what happened to my cousin and her dog when we were roommates. She had this old Scotty dog named Kipper. I was with her the night that we had to say good-bye to Kipper and how we held him until he was gone. I was talking about how we loaded him up and took him up to our home town in White Salmon which is along the Columbia River. It was such sad time.
Just as I was telling about how we were going to go up there to bury him at the old homestead, M. chimes in from the back seat before I can say anything and says rather matter of factly, 'What did you do, throw him off the bridge into the river?'
H. looks at me and I'm just stunned. She looks nervously at me as she drives waiting to see what I'm going to say. M. looks at me like what? All of a sudden I just busted up laughing and we all started laughing so hard we nearly wet ourselves. I guess M. thought things were getting a little to heavy inside the moving vehicle. She really knows how to take the edge off.
Well, every now and then this comes up and we all start laughing. Yesterday I get an email from M. called bad parenting. This is what I found attached:
I responded back, "That's awful!!! That's worse than throwing the dead dog off the bridge."
She wrote back saying my response was funnier than the clip. I promptly said that what's really sad is that we're the only ones that get it. Everyone else is looking at us and saying, 'Sick Fucks!' Oh man, that's when the LOL's really started going back and forth. It's true, I'm a really sick, sick, sick fuck...sometimes.
Monday, April 11, 2005
SPRING HAS SPRUNG
HORSETAILS RUSHING
WILD HEARTS BLEEDING
BLOOMIN' SCOTCH BROOM
TRYING TO STAY WILDLY CURRANT
WILD HEARTS BLEEDING
BLOOMIN' SCOTCH BROOM
TRYING TO STAY WILDLY CURRANT
Friday, April 08, 2005
Pooper Friday!
I really like that everyone has a pet Friday post. For me, this blog is as much about the randomness as it is the deliberate postings of my best friend. I like that I have a day to pay homage to her. She has filled a void in me that had been long over due. She has just about the sweetest disposition and yet sometimes she does things that make you wonder if she really was damaged. And then there are moments when we are out in the field and she's running for the pure joy of it and I can see the glee in her face. And then, every once in a great while, she looks elegant and beautiful and I am stunned that she's my dog.
This is part of the field that we roam around in frequently.
This is part of the field that we roam around in frequently.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
LAME O Self Portrait Day
I tried to come up with a satisfactory representation of an "O" face for today, but I couldn't keep my composure. I'm just not that sexy to begin with and it was cracking me up trying to be something that I'm not.
I gotta give it up though for two freakin' hot ladies today. They totally rocked my world and that ain't my thing if you know what I'm sayin'. Every body give it up for the freaky but sexy, Home Detention Lady and for my fellow redhead who is smokin' HOT, Doc Ern. They totally took SPD to a whole new level.
I had to go with this, a picture that has no clear meaning what so ever. Perhaps you can come up with a clever tag line for it.
I gotta give it up though for two freakin' hot ladies today. They totally rocked my world and that ain't my thing if you know what I'm sayin'. Every body give it up for the freaky but sexy, Home Detention Lady and for my fellow redhead who is smokin' HOT, Doc Ern. They totally took SPD to a whole new level.
I had to go with this, a picture that has no clear meaning what so ever. Perhaps you can come up with a clever tag line for it.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
We All Need Unconditional Love
I recently received an email from a friend asking for advice regarding how to help someone who has just heard from a loved one that they are gay. Below is the email and the response. We both felt that in a time of so much discussion around this issue of rights and legitimacy, that only honest conversation can really help us see clearly. Because of that I am posting it here. Feel free to add your thoughts.
From a friend:
I have a friend whose brother just told her that he's gay. (She
sounded so serious when she called me that I thought he'd been in a
car accident or something.) She seems to be dealing semi-OK with it,
but she's also kind of confused, because she's a pastor's kid, and
grew up thinking homosexuality is a sin, and a choice of lifestyle,
and blah, blah, blah. She is also really worried about how her
parents will deal with it, being conservative Christian.
I tried to be encouraging and say things about how it's not like he's
rebelling or being defiant. He's still a good kid who loves her
parents and the family, etc., etc. He can still be in committed
relationship someday and even adopt children, etc. I also told her
that there are Christian churches that are welcoming communities to
all people, including gay people. My parents church is one of them.
I was just wondering if you could lend a little perspective as a gay
person who is in a committed relationship, and also grew up in a
conservative church. What would you say to her?
Response:
I'm happy to respond to this, as it is something that is near and dear to my heart.
Ultimately the thing that matters the most when it comes to dealing with your family and being a gay person is their perspective. As a gay person you are dealing with so many issues in the beginning that it is really difficult to know how to communicate this to your family.
I was tortured by the idea of telling my dad and step mom. My dad is my rock and my hero. The one thing I had trouble with is the thought of him ever being disappointed in me or feel like he did something wrong.
When it came time to tell them, I went there with the notion that there was a really good chance that they would reject me. I also went there relying a great deal on the one thing that has carried me thru my life and that was the knowledge of the love that my dad has for me; the closeness that we have always had. It did nothing to alleviate my fear, if nothing else it only added to the cost of my confession.
Being a Christian also has its burden in this, because if they did reject me, I was okay with that as it was the price for my sin.
If I were to say something to this sister or to a family that was dealing with the outing of a child or sibling I would tell them this:
Look in your hearts and think about the kind of person they are and think of all the good things you know about them. Consider what it takes to make this admission to you, of all people and what a weight it has been to carry this in their heart. Then look at this individual who is before you with the weight of quilt and confusion and shame around their heart coming to you to let you into their life to seek solace in the one thing that has always given them refuge...your unconditional love.
You may not understand what it means, you may be afraid of the consequences that being gay has. You may be afraid of what others think or maybe you're pondering what you did wrong. But just for that one moment try to put those things aside and just see that person for who they are and you will see that they are the same person they have always been.
My father cried when I told him and there was this long silence. It nearly killed me to make my father cry like that. I got up and told them that I was sorry that I had to tell them this. I told them that I should leave and let them think and talk about it with out me there. I went out the front door and started down the steps. My dad called my name and I turned around to face him. He called me to him and took me in his arms and hugged me so hard and told me how much he loved me.
I can't tell you what the singular moment did for me. There are no words to describe it. I had been holding my breath for so long thru that whole ordeal and it was as if he gave me back my life.
There are a lot of things in the world that can make us question what's right and what's wrong, but the one thing that can always aid us, is what does your heart tell you? It may not give you all the answers or give you insight into why right away, but it will open the door so that you can find out. I was fortunate that that door remained open for me.
As a gay man, I was prepared to live a life of loneliness with out my family and my faith. If you would have told me back then that I would be able to have a full and productive life, I would have told you that people like me don't get to have that. I would have been wrong. People like me are full of love, longing and faith. We look into the eyes of our companion and we see our whole selves completed by their love just like any other.
So tell this sister to try and rely on love and understanding and let the other things work themselves out. Her brother needs that unconditional love right now. It takes so much courage to do what he did, remind her not to discredit that. It takes time to come to terms so be patient with yourself and them.
From a friend:
I have a friend whose brother just told her that he's gay. (She
sounded so serious when she called me that I thought he'd been in a
car accident or something.) She seems to be dealing semi-OK with it,
but she's also kind of confused, because she's a pastor's kid, and
grew up thinking homosexuality is a sin, and a choice of lifestyle,
and blah, blah, blah. She is also really worried about how her
parents will deal with it, being conservative Christian.
I tried to be encouraging and say things about how it's not like he's
rebelling or being defiant. He's still a good kid who loves her
parents and the family, etc., etc. He can still be in committed
relationship someday and even adopt children, etc. I also told her
that there are Christian churches that are welcoming communities to
all people, including gay people. My parents church is one of them.
I was just wondering if you could lend a little perspective as a gay
person who is in a committed relationship, and also grew up in a
conservative church. What would you say to her?
Response:
I'm happy to respond to this, as it is something that is near and dear to my heart.
Ultimately the thing that matters the most when it comes to dealing with your family and being a gay person is their perspective. As a gay person you are dealing with so many issues in the beginning that it is really difficult to know how to communicate this to your family.
I was tortured by the idea of telling my dad and step mom. My dad is my rock and my hero. The one thing I had trouble with is the thought of him ever being disappointed in me or feel like he did something wrong.
When it came time to tell them, I went there with the notion that there was a really good chance that they would reject me. I also went there relying a great deal on the one thing that has carried me thru my life and that was the knowledge of the love that my dad has for me; the closeness that we have always had. It did nothing to alleviate my fear, if nothing else it only added to the cost of my confession.
Being a Christian also has its burden in this, because if they did reject me, I was okay with that as it was the price for my sin.
If I were to say something to this sister or to a family that was dealing with the outing of a child or sibling I would tell them this:
Look in your hearts and think about the kind of person they are and think of all the good things you know about them. Consider what it takes to make this admission to you, of all people and what a weight it has been to carry this in their heart. Then look at this individual who is before you with the weight of quilt and confusion and shame around their heart coming to you to let you into their life to seek solace in the one thing that has always given them refuge...your unconditional love.
You may not understand what it means, you may be afraid of the consequences that being gay has. You may be afraid of what others think or maybe you're pondering what you did wrong. But just for that one moment try to put those things aside and just see that person for who they are and you will see that they are the same person they have always been.
My father cried when I told him and there was this long silence. It nearly killed me to make my father cry like that. I got up and told them that I was sorry that I had to tell them this. I told them that I should leave and let them think and talk about it with out me there. I went out the front door and started down the steps. My dad called my name and I turned around to face him. He called me to him and took me in his arms and hugged me so hard and told me how much he loved me.
I can't tell you what the singular moment did for me. There are no words to describe it. I had been holding my breath for so long thru that whole ordeal and it was as if he gave me back my life.
There are a lot of things in the world that can make us question what's right and what's wrong, but the one thing that can always aid us, is what does your heart tell you? It may not give you all the answers or give you insight into why right away, but it will open the door so that you can find out. I was fortunate that that door remained open for me.
As a gay man, I was prepared to live a life of loneliness with out my family and my faith. If you would have told me back then that I would be able to have a full and productive life, I would have told you that people like me don't get to have that. I would have been wrong. People like me are full of love, longing and faith. We look into the eyes of our companion and we see our whole selves completed by their love just like any other.
So tell this sister to try and rely on love and understanding and let the other things work themselves out. Her brother needs that unconditional love right now. It takes so much courage to do what he did, remind her not to discredit that. It takes time to come to terms so be patient with yourself and them.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
My Maternal Madness
I was born in 1968 to my 18yr old mother and my 25yr old father. They were married at the time. My parents divorced when I was about a year old. From what I've been told and what I have been able to discern in later years, my mother pretty much gave me up. Whether that was through a lot of pressure from my grandmother or whether it was a lack of confidence and ability on my mothers part has never been very clear. Ultimately, my father was granted custody of me and I was raised by him. My grandmother raised me for the first while of course. I lived with them until I was about 4, at which time my father had remarried and we all lived in a house in town.
My stepmother had a daughter of her own and was pregnant with my fathers second son. He was born shortly after that. We moved into a bigger house that was owned by my grandparents and we lived there for the rest of my childhood and early adult hood. My father's second wife was a bit of a challange for me growing up. She didn't care for me, as I was not hers. If she got angry she usually took it out on me. There wasn't a lot that could be said for her parenting skills in general, even for her own children. Their marriage ended after several years and she cleaned us out and left my dad and I with little to nothing. I was approaching 7 at the time. During this time my real mother had begun calling me on the phone and talking to me. I didn't really know who this person was, I only knew that I was supposed to talk to her because she was my mother.
One time, she came to see me and wanted to take me home with her for a visit. I remember this day so clearly because it was one of the most terrifying moments in my young life. She took me with her in her car, an old volkswagon bug with her sister. We started off and at first I was quiet and didn't know what to think. As we got farther down the road and it started to get dark, I remember climbing over the back seat of the bug and into the small box space under the rear window. Anyone who had an old bug knows that there is this small storage space there. I began to cry and ask to go home. She turned around and headed back to a town we had just went thru, The Dalles, OR and rented a hotel room. We ended up spending the night there and in the morning she took me shopping. She bought me this big metal barn set with all the animals and crops. After that she took me home. I didn't see her again for a long time, but she did continue to call me.
A little time went by with my dad dating and so forth. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents and my aunt who had a son the same age as me. We spent a lot of time together. Eventually and really not that long after, my father did remarry a woman with two daughters. They were married for about 6 months. My real mom was asked if she could take me for a couple weeks. I went and stayed with my mom and her husband for the first time. A couple weeks turned into a month. Finally, my grandmother came and picked me up and took me home. I'll never forget walking thru the front door of our old house and the echo of the screen door slamming behind me. Our house was empty...again.
Over the years, I spent all of my school vacation with my real mom and began to get to know her thru visits and phone calls. She always treated me well and gave me a lot of nice things that I normally wouldn't of had. She took me places I probably would of never gotten to see. She took me to my first McDonalds. Usually in the summers I would go to see her for a couple weeks. Over time I developed a relationship with her and she always told me how much she loved me and I know that she did.
After my fathers last divorce he dated some more and eventually met another younger woman. I was 8 at the time. They dated and she eventually moved in. They lived together for 2 years and man let me tell you, I made that 2 years hell for that poor girl. She was only 18 at the time and her mother and sister thought that I was demon spawn and they will tell you that. I was horrible, but I didn't want another woman in my house. All I needed was my dad and my grandmother. No more stepmoms. After 2 years, and after I ran her off twice I realized that she wasn't going to leave. And truth be told, I really did like her. Something I didn't tell you, was that after my dad's last marriage I made him promise me that he wouln't ever get married again. He promised me he wouldn't. After 2 years had gone by, I had begun to develop feelings for this new mom and we really did have a lot of fun together. One night after hauling in firewood, my dad and I were in the garage. I was 10 years old and I looked up at my dad and said, "Dad, are you going to marry K.?" He said no, that he wouldn't. I looked up at him and said, "I think it would be okay if you did."
About a year later he did. They have been married ever since. She raised me from that point on and was the best mom you could ever ask for. She brought a happiness and joy to our lives that we didn't know could happen. She made us a family for the first time.
What about my real mother you ask. Oh she was still there, all that time growing up I still went to see her on vacations, she came for graduations, funerals. We talked on the phone regularly. But over those years, I was developing a love for my stepmom that would eventually overshadow what I thought I felt for my mother. What I realized years later was that it was what I thought I should feel for her. That's not to say that I didn't love her or have feelings for her, I did and I liked her a lot. I could see myself in her. I knew she was my mom and she wanted to be that for me.
What I couldn't get past was my guilt for not loving her the same way. I continued to do what I thought I was supposed to by telling her what she wanted and maybe needed to hear. At some point I guess I believed it too.
to be continued...
My stepmother had a daughter of her own and was pregnant with my fathers second son. He was born shortly after that. We moved into a bigger house that was owned by my grandparents and we lived there for the rest of my childhood and early adult hood. My father's second wife was a bit of a challange for me growing up. She didn't care for me, as I was not hers. If she got angry she usually took it out on me. There wasn't a lot that could be said for her parenting skills in general, even for her own children. Their marriage ended after several years and she cleaned us out and left my dad and I with little to nothing. I was approaching 7 at the time. During this time my real mother had begun calling me on the phone and talking to me. I didn't really know who this person was, I only knew that I was supposed to talk to her because she was my mother.
One time, she came to see me and wanted to take me home with her for a visit. I remember this day so clearly because it was one of the most terrifying moments in my young life. She took me with her in her car, an old volkswagon bug with her sister. We started off and at first I was quiet and didn't know what to think. As we got farther down the road and it started to get dark, I remember climbing over the back seat of the bug and into the small box space under the rear window. Anyone who had an old bug knows that there is this small storage space there. I began to cry and ask to go home. She turned around and headed back to a town we had just went thru, The Dalles, OR and rented a hotel room. We ended up spending the night there and in the morning she took me shopping. She bought me this big metal barn set with all the animals and crops. After that she took me home. I didn't see her again for a long time, but she did continue to call me.
A little time went by with my dad dating and so forth. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents and my aunt who had a son the same age as me. We spent a lot of time together. Eventually and really not that long after, my father did remarry a woman with two daughters. They were married for about 6 months. My real mom was asked if she could take me for a couple weeks. I went and stayed with my mom and her husband for the first time. A couple weeks turned into a month. Finally, my grandmother came and picked me up and took me home. I'll never forget walking thru the front door of our old house and the echo of the screen door slamming behind me. Our house was empty...again.
Over the years, I spent all of my school vacation with my real mom and began to get to know her thru visits and phone calls. She always treated me well and gave me a lot of nice things that I normally wouldn't of had. She took me places I probably would of never gotten to see. She took me to my first McDonalds. Usually in the summers I would go to see her for a couple weeks. Over time I developed a relationship with her and she always told me how much she loved me and I know that she did.
After my fathers last divorce he dated some more and eventually met another younger woman. I was 8 at the time. They dated and she eventually moved in. They lived together for 2 years and man let me tell you, I made that 2 years hell for that poor girl. She was only 18 at the time and her mother and sister thought that I was demon spawn and they will tell you that. I was horrible, but I didn't want another woman in my house. All I needed was my dad and my grandmother. No more stepmoms. After 2 years, and after I ran her off twice I realized that she wasn't going to leave. And truth be told, I really did like her. Something I didn't tell you, was that after my dad's last marriage I made him promise me that he wouln't ever get married again. He promised me he wouldn't. After 2 years had gone by, I had begun to develop feelings for this new mom and we really did have a lot of fun together. One night after hauling in firewood, my dad and I were in the garage. I was 10 years old and I looked up at my dad and said, "Dad, are you going to marry K.?" He said no, that he wouldn't. I looked up at him and said, "I think it would be okay if you did."
About a year later he did. They have been married ever since. She raised me from that point on and was the best mom you could ever ask for. She brought a happiness and joy to our lives that we didn't know could happen. She made us a family for the first time.
What about my real mother you ask. Oh she was still there, all that time growing up I still went to see her on vacations, she came for graduations, funerals. We talked on the phone regularly. But over those years, I was developing a love for my stepmom that would eventually overshadow what I thought I felt for my mother. What I realized years later was that it was what I thought I should feel for her. That's not to say that I didn't love her or have feelings for her, I did and I liked her a lot. I could see myself in her. I knew she was my mom and she wanted to be that for me.
What I couldn't get past was my guilt for not loving her the same way. I continued to do what I thought I was supposed to by telling her what she wanted and maybe needed to hear. At some point I guess I believed it too.
to be continued...
Monday, April 04, 2005
Song Meme
Step 1) Pick a band or singer
Step 2) Answer the following questions about yourself, using only song titles from that band or singer
Step 3) Post
Band/Singer of choice: Jill Scott
Are you male or female? "Whatever"
Describe yourself: "Spring Summer Feeling"
How do some people feel about you? "Golden"
How do you feel about yourself? "Bedda at Home"
Describe your worst ex: "Nothing"
Describe your current significant other: "The Fact Is(I need you)"
Describe what you want to be: "Not Like Crazy"
Describe your current mood: "Talk To Me"
Describe your friends: "Family Reunion"
Share a few words of wisdom: "I Keep/Still Here"
Step 2) Answer the following questions about yourself, using only song titles from that band or singer
Step 3) Post
Band/Singer of choice: Jill Scott
Are you male or female? "Whatever"
Describe yourself: "Spring Summer Feeling"
How do some people feel about you? "Golden"
How do you feel about yourself? "Bedda at Home"
Describe your worst ex: "Nothing"
Describe your current significant other: "The Fact Is(I need you)"
Describe what you want to be: "Not Like Crazy"
Describe your current mood: "Talk To Me"
Describe your friends: "Family Reunion"
Share a few words of wisdom: "I Keep/Still Here"
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Sunday Outing
It's been pouring buckets most of the day today, and the nursery didn't need me today. Truth be told, I don't need to be out in the wet and cold just yet either. So Nick and I decided to go to Third Place Books this morning for coffee and browse a few books. Surprisingly they also serve a mean French Toast there too. Turns out the little bakery is also cafe style.
As we place our order and are standing there waiting to pay, the girl behind the counter is looking at us and asks,
"Are you brothers?"
Nick says "No, we're partners."
"Oh, where do you work?" she asks.
Simultaneously we both say "No, we're domestic partners".
To which she says "Oh, I never know how to segue into that. How's that working out for you?"
We just looked at her and said "GREAT!"
As we place our order and are standing there waiting to pay, the girl behind the counter is looking at us and asks,
"Are you brothers?"
Nick says "No, we're partners."
"Oh, where do you work?" she asks.
Simultaneously we both say "No, we're domestic partners".
To which she says "Oh, I never know how to segue into that. How's that working out for you?"
We just looked at her and said "GREAT!"
Friday, April 01, 2005
End of Innocents
I was born an only child of my biological parents, but I have one half sibling, a brother. My father has been married 4 times and he is from my father's second marriage. We are 4 years apart and we were not raised together. I was raised by my father with the help of my grandmother during many of the early years, until he met his 4th wife. She has been a godsend to us and has been now for over 23 years.
During many of those years growing up, I spent a great deal of time alone. Oh I had the occaisional friends and the cousins, but I had a lot of time to myself as well. I was not a popular kid in school, as I was awkward, I had red hair, freckles and huge rodent like buck teeth. I was not at all very social and yet I wanted desperately to fit in and be normal. Since that wasn't a reality that I could have at that time, I took to spending more and more time by myself. I learned to be very independant and self entertained.
When I got to middle school, I was allowed to be at home by myself or what we call a latchkey kid. This was fine by me, I was perfectly content. We lived a short walk from the edge of town where there was a canyon of sorts with a seasonal creek that ran thru it. Most days, I would head for home and change into my play clothes and head down to the canyon. When I think back on it now, I probably should of never been allowed to go down there. This was an area infested with Poison Oak, ticks and worst of all Rattle snakes, not to mention the occaisional scorpion. And yet, in all that time, I never got hurt.
Over the years, I rambled all over the canyon and its surroundings. I had regular haunts that I went to and secret places that I could just sit and contemplate whatever it was that my simple mind found amusing. I say simple because, not in all that time did it ever occur to me to do anything juvinile or malicious, sneak cigerettes or beer, none of the typical curiosities ever intruded. The only thing I can think of to explain it, is that there was no one else there but me. It was as if it was a seperate world for me alone.
I spent hours exploring, building forts and dams. When I was a freshman I got my own dog, a lab mix named Jack. He became my best friend and roaming buddy. There wasn't anywhere that I went that he wouldn't go too. If I walked across a log over the water, he would get right up there and trot right on over. I would play hide and seek with him, or just lay out in the sun and stroke his head. Sometimes when I was playing in the water catching crawdads (crayfish), he would stick his face into the water and blow bubbles with his nose and then run around and around like a nut and come back and do it again. I would just laugh and laugh and he would keep doing it.
I mention this story, because tonight I was reflecting on innocents lost. It's not to say that I was innocent at that time in my life, because truthfully, my innocents was taken from me at an early age. What I had there though during those times was a sense of innocents, wonder and imagination. It was as if Jack knew that I needed to laugh because I did so little anywhere else. He knew when I was sad and would just lean on me. I cried so many tears into his fur during those years.
When I turned sixteen I got my first car, a Nissan truck. Jack and I outgrew the canyon and found new places to roam. Once again, I think back and I can't believe that nothing ever happened to me or us. We would be gone for hours and no one knew where we were. If I would of gotten hurt, there would of been no way for me to get help or for anyone to know how to find me. Crazy! Nothing ever did happen though.
When it came time for me to leave home the first time, I was heartbroken. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to leave my family or my dog. I left anyway because of a misplaced sense of pride and promises made to my best friend at the time. It wouldn't be long after that I would find my way home again. The next time I left was to be a missionary for the Mormon church. It would be the last time I would see Jack. One night while packing to move to my next area, I was putting my photos away. I picked up Jacks picture and I knew something was not right. I called my Dad immeadiately. He was very happy to hear from me and being very jovial, but when I got the courage up, I said "How's Jack?" Silence.
My best friend had past away the day before, my father had to have him put down because of cancer. Jack was the last remnant of a time in my life where I found a sense of innocents. I still have his picture and if I could I would scan it and load it here. He was the truest friend I ever had through my toughest times growing up. I don't know what I would of done with out him.
I spent so much of my young life dealing with complex emotions and confusions, and that time with Jack was my escape from my torment. He was my lifesaver.
During many of those years growing up, I spent a great deal of time alone. Oh I had the occaisional friends and the cousins, but I had a lot of time to myself as well. I was not a popular kid in school, as I was awkward, I had red hair, freckles and huge rodent like buck teeth. I was not at all very social and yet I wanted desperately to fit in and be normal. Since that wasn't a reality that I could have at that time, I took to spending more and more time by myself. I learned to be very independant and self entertained.
When I got to middle school, I was allowed to be at home by myself or what we call a latchkey kid. This was fine by me, I was perfectly content. We lived a short walk from the edge of town where there was a canyon of sorts with a seasonal creek that ran thru it. Most days, I would head for home and change into my play clothes and head down to the canyon. When I think back on it now, I probably should of never been allowed to go down there. This was an area infested with Poison Oak, ticks and worst of all Rattle snakes, not to mention the occaisional scorpion. And yet, in all that time, I never got hurt.
Over the years, I rambled all over the canyon and its surroundings. I had regular haunts that I went to and secret places that I could just sit and contemplate whatever it was that my simple mind found amusing. I say simple because, not in all that time did it ever occur to me to do anything juvinile or malicious, sneak cigerettes or beer, none of the typical curiosities ever intruded. The only thing I can think of to explain it, is that there was no one else there but me. It was as if it was a seperate world for me alone.
I spent hours exploring, building forts and dams. When I was a freshman I got my own dog, a lab mix named Jack. He became my best friend and roaming buddy. There wasn't anywhere that I went that he wouldn't go too. If I walked across a log over the water, he would get right up there and trot right on over. I would play hide and seek with him, or just lay out in the sun and stroke his head. Sometimes when I was playing in the water catching crawdads (crayfish), he would stick his face into the water and blow bubbles with his nose and then run around and around like a nut and come back and do it again. I would just laugh and laugh and he would keep doing it.
I mention this story, because tonight I was reflecting on innocents lost. It's not to say that I was innocent at that time in my life, because truthfully, my innocents was taken from me at an early age. What I had there though during those times was a sense of innocents, wonder and imagination. It was as if Jack knew that I needed to laugh because I did so little anywhere else. He knew when I was sad and would just lean on me. I cried so many tears into his fur during those years.
When I turned sixteen I got my first car, a Nissan truck. Jack and I outgrew the canyon and found new places to roam. Once again, I think back and I can't believe that nothing ever happened to me or us. We would be gone for hours and no one knew where we were. If I would of gotten hurt, there would of been no way for me to get help or for anyone to know how to find me. Crazy! Nothing ever did happen though.
When it came time for me to leave home the first time, I was heartbroken. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to leave my family or my dog. I left anyway because of a misplaced sense of pride and promises made to my best friend at the time. It wouldn't be long after that I would find my way home again. The next time I left was to be a missionary for the Mormon church. It would be the last time I would see Jack. One night while packing to move to my next area, I was putting my photos away. I picked up Jacks picture and I knew something was not right. I called my Dad immeadiately. He was very happy to hear from me and being very jovial, but when I got the courage up, I said "How's Jack?" Silence.
My best friend had past away the day before, my father had to have him put down because of cancer. Jack was the last remnant of a time in my life where I found a sense of innocents. I still have his picture and if I could I would scan it and load it here. He was the truest friend I ever had through my toughest times growing up. I don't know what I would of done with out him.
I spent so much of my young life dealing with complex emotions and confusions, and that time with Jack was my escape from my torment. He was my lifesaver.
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