A Letter to an Old Friend

Dear Insomnia,

It's been so long since I've seen you! I'm glad we were able to spend the last 4 hours together staring at the ceiling of my bedroom. I never knew I had 36 individual slats at the current length setting for my blinds until you pointed it out. Heavens knows why the spacing between number 17 and 18 is about 2mm wider than the rest but I will try to resolve mystery and get back to you. Your perceptiveness of your environment is such an admirable trait, there are so many things that would escape my lack of perceptions if it weren't for you.

That being said, I fear I must remind you that I have a job. A job that not only requires me to arrive early but to also refrain from: shouting, snarling, crying, whining, pouting and throwing myself upon the ground in a temper tantrum. I find these expectations lofty on any given day however I find them insurmountable given that I only have a maximum allowable time of 2 hours of sleep left in tonight's schedule.

I will have to politely request that in the future you plan your visits on Friday and Saturday nights as those work best with my schedule. During those times I will be more than happy to entertain any of your paranoid worries or OCD-esc obessions to your satisfaction.

Yours Truly,
Annabelle

P.S. You owe me a vacation day

Different

“How do you know this is different?” A question posed by the teacher.

Its not the first time she asked and it’s not the first time I stumbled over the answer. I’m not so good with words when put on the spot.

I believe my floundering is most likely due to my emotional response to this question…doubt. I’ve been so wrong about so many people before how can I really trust myself to be right about you? Not exactly the comforting words you want to express to your partner.

Then after the question has past along with the anxiety-induced fit it causes I start to think more and trust more.

Why the teacher is different:

1. She is the first person I ever dated that I looked forward to introducing to my friends because I knew they would love her (they do).
2. From the moment I met her I always felt I could be myself and she has never asked me to be anyone but myself.
3. When I saw the way her students reacted to I realized she is one of those teachers that students will remember the name of 20 years from now.
4. She has a career, the ability to balance her checkbook, friends and an apartment that doesn’t look like a college dorm room.
5. She is honest with herself and with me.
6. When we disagree I always feel better after we talk. She listens to what I have to say and follows through on how to handle things in the future.
7. I respect who she is, the decisions she makes and her opinions.
8. She changes my perspective without changing me.
   
9. There are moments we are together doing normal things where I experience a wash of contentment, joy, calm, excitement and amazement. It’s an emotion I can’t describe but it is special and it makes me feel incredibly lucky.
10. None of these things require premeditation, work or even much consciousness. We just "fit."
    

Next time you ask I’ll be ready. You are special. I do know you’re different. We have a lifetime together and I have no intent on ruining it with my timetables and rushing. I have no idea what our future may bring or how we may get there but in my heart I feel it will be more wonderful than I could conjure up through my idle daydreams.

Roy G. Biv

In all my musing on being a happy independent person, “an adult” I made a major oversight. Like most little girls I wore frilly dresses that I loved to twirl in, I played with dolls I stayed up late at sleepovers and played truth or day.

I always felt out of place. A little different I just never quite fit. Don’t get me wrong I did a decent job. I always had friends, boyfriends when I got older but it required a lot of effort. I was always nervous…extraordinarily sensitive to how others around me reacted to what I said or did. I censored. I fit in.

When you talk to most gay people they say they have always known. Some tell me how they tried to cover it up by subscribing to gender roles and how they became free to be who they are when they came out. They say it’s not a choice.

When they step out of their closet for better or worse a weight was lifted. The sky’s part and rainbows cascade down around them. Somewhere a men’s chorus appears to provide the perfect soundtrack for the walk to the nearest gay bar for long islands.

I guess I’m a typical gay person. I didn’t always know. In fact I’m not 100% sure I know now. There have been women I have loved. There have been men I have loved. I rather wear a dress than pants any day of the week and I have a serious aversion to softball. I guess my girl-girlness somehow made me not a lesbian in my own eyes. My lifelong pursuit of blending in couldn’t even be achieved within the LGBT community. But does it matter?

I suppose what I’ve learned is being a lesbian has nothing to do with my haircut or even who I have sex with. It’s about love. It’s about the connection between two people a hand made to fit with yours.

And fitting in has nothing to do with having everyone liking you. I do fit in. I fit in with my close group of friends that I know I can call at 2am on a weeknight. I have people who know me and love me. They love me when I make mistakes, when I’m confused, when I’m scared, when I’m happy. I came out to my friends in college and even during heterosexual relationships my non-straight (ahem wishy-washy) status was common knowledge.

One step I neglected in my previous declarations was mentioning it to my family. Coming out to my parents ranked on my to do list somewhere between growing a mullet and collecting sperm from farm animals. They are catholic…they are republicans. I have panic attacks over disappointing them.

There is never a good time for this conversation, a right place or a right way to do it. The secrecy wore on me. Free time was spent imaging worst case scenarios where after hearing the news in a fit of rage my father runs to the lawyers office to write me out of the will, leaving my mother weeping in corner while mumbling…”What did we do wrong? Dear God, why us…why our family?”

When my girlfriend dropped me off this afternoon and I started to tear up in the elevator I knew today had to be the day. I just couldn’t lie anymore and still keep any shred of my sanity in tact.

When I got home the freak out really began. I sat alone in on the couch in my quiet house a box of tissues settled on my lap. I was shaking. I closed my eyes and I prayed.

I’m not a particularly religious person and I certainly wouldn’t say praying is a regular habit of mine but I guess I didn’t know what else to do. And amidst my tears, my fear and all the questions and horrible scenarios running though my head I felt peace. I felt safe, protected.

No matter what happened I was going to be ok. I had to tell them. I had to give them the opportunity to know me, to accept me, to love me. Because where I stood now every gesture of love made me hurt with the fear that it wouldn’t be given to me “if they knew.”

I went into my room and closed the door. In a last second of cheesy symbolism I opened both of my closets, sat on my bed with my tissues, pulled myself together and made the call.

My father answered the phone chipper as ever and asked how I was…
Me: Ummmm….I’m ok. Will you put mom on the phone too I want to talk to you guys about something.

My mom says hi and I drop the bomb…

“So…I’m gay. How’s that going to work out for you guys?”

Silence.

They actually did okay though. They didn’t seem to appreciate the news via phone call. They wanted to know why I was telling them now (My ultra smooth answer was I don’t know). My dad said it would take time to get used to it. My mom didn’t say much of anything. They told me they loved me and basically it is what it is. The conversation switched gears and we then went on to talking about Belmont’s sensitive subject and visits with family friends.

The whole thing actually went better than my best-case scenario. Despite their forced coolness on the matter I’m sure it was a blow. I’m sure they aren’t thrilled with the situation but the fact of the matter is they still love me. They will get used to it. There are sure to be questions in the future, confusion and maybe a little less acceptance once the shock wears off. But I guess I think it’s going to be ok.

It wasn’t some earth shattering life-changing experience. No preverbal weight was lifted, I didn’t feel any more free, or happy, or changed. I’m still nervous about what will happen with my family in the future but I did get hope from the whole experience. Hope that this isn’t the end of the world.

Recently over dinner with Cobie I said, “So I’m a lesbian now.”
Cobie: You’ve always been a lesbian.
Me: Yeah well I’m sticking to it this time.
Cobie: Okay well dues are in September and we have a parade in June welcome to the club.

It’s just another day, a day where I am the same person who I was yesterday. A day where I wake up and struggle to be myself and not be bothered when someone isn’t willing to do backflips over the obviously super-awesome person I am. A day where I have some faith that just maybe my little world isn’t that big of a fucking deal after all.

I will see you at the parade in June. I’ll be the person wearing rainbows.

In Lust

I responded to a craigslist ad. I know right. I've always found it disturbing that I could buy an escort and a vintage 1977 star wars action figure on the same site.

Still though her ad wasn't skanky so I responded and gave it a go...enter the English teacher

The first date was on Friday and from the moment I met her we hit it off. Conversation was easy, we laughed we bantered we mocked others, we went back to her place for a glass of wine and making fun of people house hunting on television. She even held my parking spot for me while I went to put air in my tires.

I'm completely smitten its ridiculous. I really had no expectations and quite frankly I figured it was going to be more of a "friend" thing.

She came over after her party last night and we watched more funny TV, talked about stupid stuff and even some important stuff.

...we had breakfast this morning

Plans for date three on Thursday.

Its me

Maybe its being stuck alone in my apartment to much

Maybe its because all my "dates" are with my gay best friend

Maybe its because I have some odd goal meeting life lull.

Whatever the reason I am suddenly very sick of being single. My normal contentment with being a celibate monk has rapidly changed to brooding.

After watching Marley & Me and bawling at the thought of my dogs dying and leaving me completely alone in the world. I decided it would be a good idea to stalk my last promising date on facebook. Of course the whole page was posts about the "new girlfriend." I wasn't really that interested but still that's not the point.

WTF?

When the hell is it my turn? Where is my perfect first date? Where is my person that comes in and is smitten with my many flaws? Has age truly turned me too suspicious and independent to even have anyone interested?

Pout.

From Another World

Greetings my name is Benjamin, and my alien name is....Well to pronounce it you would have to have two tongues and four mouths.

I've become assimilated with American YOuth culture and find Pizza amazing. When I'm not harvesting brains and Butts for the mother ship, I tend to listen to slayer and eat Pizza, occasionally (more like every two days) I try something different and eat Burritos while listening to the Avett Brothers. I still haven't mastered eating upside down without spilling all over my carpet. I know what your thinking, and yes what do Aliens need carpet for? Its simple really, and the anwser is: It sure beats bare floors?

Do you eat Pizza and watch the movie 300?
Ben

***Actual picture and message from okcupid

A little less fat

So I have totally fallen off my weight loss bandwagon. Gone are my first three months of obsessively tracking my food and having guilt cross my mind each time my lips decent on an alcoholic beverage. Gone are the days of packing my lunch. I haven't been on a treadmill in 4 months.

My goal for the move and all this insanity was to not gain any weight and quite frankly I've rocked it out.

Total weight loss since I moved....9.4lbs. Which puts me at a total loss of 38.7lbs. Which is starting to be quite a respectable number. 71.1 to my total goal.

I want to get back in to running since its good for my psyche. I purchased a new shuffle to replaced the broken one, I have treadmills in my gym and tons of sidewalks to run on once the weather gets better. I've given permission to my local pals to begin harassing me to join them on races.

I have another date tonight. I'm so freaking popular. I love the people here, I love my apartment, I love sleeping in my bed which even fits in my bedroom. Life is good.

Now if someone would just unpack all these bloody boxes that are littering my dining area.