Sunday, February 27, 2005

I Was Thinking Last Night,

after a conversation with someone raised by Fundamentalist Christians about his father's tendency to be homophobic, that the majority of the people in this world who believe that homosexuality is a choice probably had to make that choice. I realize this goes along with the notion that the most homophobic among us are usually the ones with the most inner turmoil as to their own sexuality, but for me this thought puts a whole other perspective on it.

I mean the gay women, gay men, straight women (myself included) and straight men I know and have known didn't have to make a choice -- they knew they way they were born and what sex they were attracted to. I didn't have to make a decision one way or the other; it was innate, and neither did my gay friend Jeff, for example. And that's not to say that I haven't had a passing thought now and again about women (which is completely normal), but I knew in my soul what sex I was meant to love, copulate with and be attracted to.

I believe a lot of those people who condemn the homosexual life made the choice to live the heterosexual life, in spite of the homosexuality that was in them from the day they were born.

If you're even thinking of posting something homophobic right now, you should realize that you're reading the wrong blog and go elsewhere to rant. I don't want to hear it.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

My family was dysfunctional. Whose wasn't in some way, shape or form? This is not a boo-hoo statement. This is a fact. I mean I was not abused or neglected or made to take my time-outs in a hall closet. Our dysfunction stemmed from our surroundings and heritage.

I know I've mentioned before that I'm from the Pennsylvania Dutch/Amish/Mennonite part of the country and how cold these people were. My parents did better than their parents before them by actually showing love within the confines of our house, but never, ever outside those walls, as opposed to never showing love anywhere, ever. The only emotions that were acceptable to show in public, even from a tender age, were anger and jocularity, if that even is an emotion. One didn't even show happiness because, as all PA-Germans know, why would you show happiness when it was so soon to end?

There is a reason to bring this up, really there is. See, the way my family showed affection was to tease or pick on those they loved. I was an extra-sensitive child who for a long time thought she was the only one being picked on. I had to learn to develop thick skin quickly (which I could not seem to do) and to give as good as I got. Truly witty zingers aren't only appreciated in that culture, they are revered.

Anyway, I did eventually learn to give as good as I got and about that time I moved out of that area to an area (Philadelphia) where not everyone related to each other in that same manner, but it wasn't until a few years later, when I moved down here, that my method of relating/showing someone I liked them really became a simmering cauldron of trouble. Down here no one relates that way, except maybe fifth-graders. I was constantly hurting others' feelings, thought of as mean and aggressive, making people cry.

It's taken me years to try to reign in that desire to tease and to be able to function on a level where I show my true feelings. Still to this day sometimes, if I'm around people and I'm not feeling particularly comfortable, I'll go one of two ways: I'll get really quiet or I'll jabber on non-stop. I do one or the other or both to try not to start falling back into my old ways.

So, if you're around me and I'm quiet, don't take it personally; I'm probably just fighting off old demons, or if you're around me and I just can't seem to shut the fuck up, don't think I'm insane or self-important, think that maybe I'm saying all these other thing to stop myself from saying things that might be funny but would probably be taken the wrong way and I don't want to chance it.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

When I am unable to sleep, I play a game on the computer or I surf the web. One night I even put my whole animal family on Dogster and Catster.

Other sites I've been enjoying lately are: This French-guy-with-a-camera blog, this cook's blog, this waiter's blog, this cooler-than-you blog, this greener-than-you blog, this dirty-little-secret blog, this Tom Waits blog, this anecdote website, and this German site that let's you change the words on photographs and have lots of fun.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I'm meeting a bunch of people tonight at the Copal Grill on Wilkinson. Yes, I know that it's really far away, but it's so worth it. I mean, at this place you can get a NY strip (large) for $9.95, a huge ribeye for the same, or the biggest country ham steak in the world, soaked properly before cooking, served with homemade red-eye gravy. They also have great homemade chicken rice soup, great burgers and fries. I do this every Wednesday, so Wednesdays have become my free day to eat whatever I want, as there is no healthy eating allowed at the Copal. The waitresses know my name and know what I drink and know I like to take an unsweetened tea home with me, so they always have it ready. They're sweet like that.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

I know it's been a long time. I've been Busy. That's Busy with a capital 'B'. No, actually I was waiting until one of you told me exactly how drunk the guy was from the previous post. Since none of you ventured a guess, I'll give in and tell you: He was insanely fucking drunk. There, was that so hard? No. No, it wasn't.

As I've been too busy to think of anything to blog, I'll just fill you in on what's up right this minute. Right this minute I am looking at a notepad that has my husband's handwriting on it. It says, "Aptguide.com, Elmhurst Apts., 2723 Dorchester, Charlotte Woods, Scaleybark."

What could that mean? Is this his subtle way of telling me he's tired of living with someone so intelligent, beautiful and funny because it makes him so insecure and he's tired of all the self-loathing? Is he trying to put his mistress into a new apartment, because that's just what sugar daddies do?

I just don't know.

Anyway, I got a speeding ticket last night from being all busy and shit. I was supposedly doing 37 in a 25. The problem with that is I'd have to have had the pedal to the metal because the cop busted me 1/2 block away from a stop sign I came to a complete stop for. That makes no sense. Now, the second stop sign I went through, I didn't come to a complete stop at and naturally assumed that's why he was stopping me. He said he wasn't aware that a second traffic violation had occurred. He just knew I was speeding. So, I'll take the class, which I'm eligible for because I haven't had a friggin' speeding ticket since I was 18.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

How drunk was this guy?

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Hillbilly, The Pumpkin Vigilante

One fall night about five years ago, Hillbilly stepped out onto the rooftop of his apartment, which was located nextdoor to a general store in Durham, to smoke a cigarette.

His peaceful cig break was ruined by the sound of breaking glass and noises emanating from the store. He knew the store was closed and figured someone had just broken into it.

Before he could call the police, he saw the culprit leaving the premises. Without thinking, he picked up one of his girlfriend's decorative pumpkins and threw it at the robber two floors below. Just as it had with the rabbit in the previous post, it hit the guy square on the head. Hillbilly said the culprit's legs flew out from underneath him and he landed flat on the ground. He called the police and went downstairs to make sure the robber didn't get up and take off.

When he got down there, the guy was still knocked out cold. Hillbilly was afraid he'd get up and start running before the police arrived, so he looked for a way to pin the guy down. The only thing he could find was a huge pair of gardening shears in the broken window of the general store. He opened up the blades and jammed them into the ground on either side of the robber's neck. That bastard wasn't going anywhere.

When the cops arrived, they surveyed the scene and found it hilarious. Hillbilly was written up in the newspaper as "The Great Pumpkin," and his story even made it onto the news the following day.

The only thing the robber took from the store was a display of cigarette lighters. In hindsight, I'm sure he didn't think they were worth all the trouble they eneded up causing him.

One thing I know for sure, I really hope he never aims anything at my head. Jeez, he's dangerous.

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