A quick hello and if ya don’t know now ya know

Hope everyone is enjoying their holiday …. I promise a new addition to the story is coming and I thank you for your patience as I deal with my inner issues. On a positive note, I have two things to report:

1) Mexico City may be passing a gay marriage law that would provide all of the same rights to gay couples as to hetero couples (with the exception of adoption …. still workin on that one with the church). Thank you to my friend Orlando for that update!

2) Houston, TX has elected an openly gay female mayor. Now before your eyes cross, I did type that correctly: HOUSTON TEXAS!. A big whooohoooo to them for looking at an openly gay individual no differently than an open hetero individual. More proof that who you love is no one’s business …. ask Tiger Woods on this one

3) Washington DC has passed marriage equality. This means California needs to get their head out of their butt’s and get on it.

See you soon!

Oy Vey People … Oy Vey

Maine??? Seriously? Good grief. It just feels like a big ol blow to the gut and to the heart. I wish I understood the passion behind the rage against gay civil rights, but honestly I just do not. It perplexes me how in the name of God, Jesus Christ or whatever deity they are invoking they say that being a human is wrong. My first reaction to this ignorance is anger, followed by sadness and then confusion. I want to feel love for them but damn it … it’s hard to feel love for people who are hating your family. But, I will try. I will try because I refuse to be apart of their state of mind and because it is better to kill with kindness.

 

Part 2 Chapter 3

* Writers note: I beg your pardon as of late. I am feeling, as you may be able to sense, a bit scattered lately and have a lot on my brain to ponder. As a result, the writing is not as focused as I would like. I hope you are enjoying nonetheless

Adjusting to a new life, a new neighborhood and life without my mother was not without it’s challenges. In retrospect my life had just become a lot better and my mother had done one of the most selfless acts one could imagine; she had given me up from her life so that I could have a chance at a  life. Now that I was in California I was also away from the loving support of both my mother’s and my father’s family. I no longer had my Aunt Nita to protect me or my cousins as playmates. My cousin Lea was no longer around to tell me what I should like and not like. I felt lost. Not only did I feel that isolation but I felt my dad’s isolation. When my dad left Washington he left behind a group of friends who no longer accepted him and family who would talk around him (didn’t want to speak on the whole gay thing). My mom in her rage over his departure spoke frequently to the people who had loved him over his unpopular decision to be true to his soul. I was not immune from this discussion.

My dad had located a daycare for me. It was conveniently up the hill from the elementary school I would eventually attend and this daycare had A LOT of kids running around. Jackie’s must have seen like the perfect place for a dad who was trying to give his little girl some kids to play with while also attempting not to draw too much attention to himself from the other parents. This place had constant activity. Jackie had 3 children of her own (one girl and 2 boys), a large front and back yard, plenty of toys and she loved to cook. She turned her 2 son’s bedroom into a nap room that had a built in divider so the boys were able to keep their own space. Only the select few were allowed to enter into the domain of Alan and Matt’s bedroom/Star Wars collectible enterprise. The daycare kids ranged from ages 6 months old to 11 years old. I would say Jackie was doing quite well for herself given she had no permit to run a daycare and believed in punishing her daycare kids in the same manner she punished her own children: screaming and slapping.

It was at this daycare I would meet my oldest friend, my first big crush/heart ache and feel I was a part of something even though I was constantly on the fringe of it. Allegra was about 4 months older than me and at a time in a child’s life where age ranks supreme this was a big deal. It was actually our first conversation and both of still speak of this meeting with great affection. It went something like this: How old are you? I’m 3. How old are you? I’m 3 too. Well, when is your birthday? June. When is yours? February? Which one comes first? I don’t know. Maybe we should wait to see whose birthday comes next and then that person will be older. Ok. Let’s go play on the big wheels. Yeah.

Of course by the time Allegra turned 4 she had already established herself as the leader of the daycare. This girl was tough. She refused to wear pants. She could outplay the boys in any sport. And, she spoke her mind all of the time. No joke, ALL of the time. If you were 5 years older than her, it did not matter. Allegra would tell you what’s what. She had me in constant trouble with Jackie. Here was me a shy, timid and scared of everyone 3 year old who had just befriended a strong willed child who was determined to exhaust her energy daily. Allegra ran everywhere and usually had a soccer ball or baseball with her. Tha girl had energy! She also got me in good with Alan and Matt so that I was allowed to touch (not play) with the Star War’s figures which was as good as hitting the lotto for the time. She was the first friend I looked up to and wanted to do everything she did. Our friendship has spanned 30 plus years and because we are girls has had its ups and downs.

One activity that used to get us into a lot of trouble was making water balloons out of plastic bags left at the school. We would fill them up, locate a twisty tie on the ground (this was before ziplock), shut them off at the top and proceed to throw them at an unsuspecting fellow daycare child patrons. You would then hear from what seemed like miles away “Allegra and friends!!! Get back up here NOW!!!!” Our stomachs would drop. We would ponder our options and then wonder how the heck she knew what we were up to. Deciding between a timeout in the kitchen if we came up now or a red rear end if we came up later, we opted to trek back up the hill (a very very very steep hill) and face the music. Allegra always received the more severe punishment: time out in the kitchen in which she would obstinately kill ants on the kitchen floor with her thumb. I usually was given some sort of verbal scare and sent to another room away from her which was punishment enough.

An event that stands out at Jackie’s, although I could write a book just on my experiences there alone, was when Allegra decided it would be a great idea to use a new word she had overheard the night before. She not only utilized this word in perfect context but directed it Jackie’s punishment towards her. We were undoubtedly doing something we knew we should not be (card board sliding down the hill, hitting up the janitors down at the school for milk boxes, throwing tan bark at birds, Allegra attempting to teach me how to swing on the monkey bars which inevitably ended in me on my rear end) and Jackie was providing her schpeel on why we were such terrible children. Allegra with full confidence looked at Jackie and said “This is BULLSHIT!” I do believe every child in ear shot dropped their jaw in full disbelief. All of us kids took our medicine and did not dare talk back to Jackie. All of us. We were terrified of Jackie and her wooden spoons placing warschock designs on our behinds. Allegra let the gaffe of all gaffe loose! Jackie looked at her. She looked at us. She looked back at Allegra. She smacked Allegra right on the cheek. And ya know what? Allegra did not cry. Talk about the ultimate middle finger right back at cha! The next thing I recall is watching Allegra’s mother hear of the events as they were told by Jackie and then watch Jackie cower to Allegra’s mother. The tongue lashing was unforgettable and I was forever frightened of pissing off Allegra’s mother from that point on.

To Be Continued………

Part 2 Chapter 2

From the age of 4 through age 7 I remember feeling safe, loved, nurtured and adored. I had two dad’s who were madly in love with each other and were able to celebrate this love through having a family. We were the Gay version of Annie and I had a lot of Daddy Warbucks’ around me. I was the center of all parties and there were a lot of parties. Easter, Birthdays, Oscar’s, Super Bowls (yes, my extended family loved the 49ers), Thanksgiving and Christmas. All over the top and all a ton of fun for me. I was used to being around adults with no playmates in sight having spent so much time at my grandmother’s house and these fiesta’s were no exception. Many of my uncles craved a family and I was the closest outlet. I was carried around the homes, I was spoken to as an adult, I was played with, read to and I was LOVED! I am still convinced one of our closest family friends bought a dog so that I would have something extra to entertain me while at his home. They recorded movies for me to watch when it was time to wind down for bed. I had a bed always made up for me when I arrived. And, I always had separate snacks since I was a picky eater.

One thing that has always stood out at these parties is the lack of stereotypes exhibited. Granted they protected me from all things crass and treated me as a porcelain doll, but never did I hear a dirty joke, see anyone fondling each other, no affection was being staged or see any grandiose feminine gestures. These men were all professionals, travelled and educated. I am not sure what happened when I went to bed, but I can tell you that while the alcohol may have flowed with abundance I was always protected from anything that could be interpreted as vulgar. I was after all everyone’s child and favorite niece.

I recall observing on more than one occasion Oliver’s best friend Burt providing a severe tongue lashing to a new clique member. I would never see them back at any function after these scoldings. I always felt bad for them, but I was happy that I was never being told I had done something wrong. What I discovered later in life was the scolding was because of me. These newbies had been schooled prior to their invitation to the Gayest Gala in town that I was to be considered at all times. This meant a certain amount of control was expected and if any of my uncle’s felt this line was crossed the newbie would be told as such. Never one to take chances with my well being, Burt would promptly ban these younglings from ever returning to these parties because they had violated the sanctity of my innocence. Mind you that I never over heard what was being scolded, but the protection was so strong over me that whether I was in ear shot or not did not matter.

A little girl could not have been happier. Only a year prior I had come from a life where I felt scared all of the time. I was scared that I would never see my parents again or that I would be forgotten at one of the many homes I was left for care with. With this new family I started to come out of my shell of shyness and I was able to be a little girl (well, a little Princess really).  These parties were some of the happiest times I can remember and while there were very rarely any women around, these men taught me how a woman should be treated.

To be continued………..

Part 1 Chapter 2

My new home was a wonderland. It sat on a hill over looking a valley nested in fragrant pine and eucalyptus trees. The neighborhood was rural; the street twisted and turned sprinkling houses here and there as you rose to the top. There were no street lights, no airplanes flying overhead and you could barely hear whether your neighbors were home. The yards were well manicured with California Native flowers and shrubs. The backdrop for this neighborhood was a private school for girls on the other side of the hill and a water shed that cradled the valley. Wild animals could be heard and seen, creeks gurgled, blackberry bushes fenced the creeks and the woods that framed this scene seemed never ending. For a child that had never really seen so much life from living in a concrete cave this was something straight out of a fairy tale. Deers, birds, bob cats, vultures, wild turkey, lizards, frogs…all new to me and all spectacular.

The neighborhood families all had children of various ages. Next door to me was my first friend. He was not as frightened of people as I was, but he was most definitely shy. One year my senior and with a set of monkey bars in his yard, he was my new mate. His thick black hair always attempting to wisp over his peering blue eyes revealed a boy who was kind and curious. Jason’s yellow house was a play ground to me. It has something I had never seen before: 2 floors. I wanted to run and up and down the stairs all day long, but being the 4 year old boy he was more interested in all things outside. His mother had a gravely voice that you could hear from any radius of his home; the woman could project her calls what seems miles. We had no doubts when she was calling us back to her kitchen and there was no hesitation to begin moving toward it when the beacon was sent out. His father seemed to be a shy timid man. He was usually working but when he was not he seemed in constant contemplation. It was Jason who introduced me to the other children in the neighborhood. My across the street neighbors Ellen, also one year older, and her older brother Chad who would become my first crush. Down the street were Doug and Mark who I never was very sure about. They were awkward suspicious  boys. And, around the bend was Helen who would become a life long friend who I would lose track of and pick up again throughout my life. Jason and I walked to people’s homes, creek walked for hours and would study plant life while he would tell me stories of where this plant came from. Jason taught me to fly kites and not be afraid of the nature around me. A boy scout in the making he was adventurous and a small gentleman never allowing me to get hurt in any of our quests in the woods and creeks.

While it was never said it was known to me at a very early age my family was different and my family had secrets. The neighborhood children were not invited over to my house; my dad would always ask if I could go over to theirs for a few hours during the week while he sought out day care for me. I never questioned this being eager to please and terrified of being left again. The neighborhood parents also never asked if their children could come to my house. I have no doubt that there were suspicions of my parent’s gayness and I have no doubt that despite the progressiveness of Marin County the stereotype of homosexuals being perverts was prominent in parents minds. This is despite my yard having a pool and large enclosed yard to play in. This is despite me being a spoiled princess with more toys than I could possibly ever play with. But, this was the way it was due to the times and the mentality of most parents.

Oliver worked in San Francisco in the insurance industry. A white collar conservative and consistent industry that appealed to Oliver’s love of study and steady. The year was 1979 and it was still a time where a gay man could be fired if he was outed. Recall that this was the year after Proposition 6 was defeated. A politician from Orange County asked California to vote on banning any suspected gay teachers from educating children in California. This proposition also sought to out people who supported gay rights and ban then from public service as well. Although Proposition 6 failed there remained a reticent hurt and fear. More importantly, there were no anti discrimination laws protecting gay people from being fired just simply for being gay. Oliver was putting on a front with his employer. My dad could not be known to them and because Oliver’s home was more than an hour from the Financial District there was little threat of someone stopping by. This was a blessing because life at home was unsettling for all of us.

The biggest fear in our household was me. I was not warming up to Oliver and in fact I would neither speak to him nor look at him. Oliver’s hopes of having a family rested on my little heart opening up. 6 months had passed and there was no sign of this happening. I was a picky eater, I only wanted to be around my daddy and I refused to sleep by myself. Not exactly the situation described by the psychic Oliver had been counseled by so many years ago. My dad must have sensed that my love would be the glue to the relationship because he tried everything to help me warm up. To his dismay nothing was working. A trip to Golden Gate Park proved to be overwhelming for me and embarrassing for Oliver. I cried the entire time overcome by how many people were around us. I was weight in my dad’s arm who attempted to find relief for his arms in passing me along to Oliver but my protest quashed any success of that endeavor. Oliver tried cooking for me but I would not eat anything that was handed to me by him. He tried reading to me but I cried when he would enter my room without my dad. I was, to put it mildly, an impossible child.

A year passed and as Oliver frequently did, he went on a much needed business trip. He traveled at least 3 days per month for work, My dad and I would drive him to the airport and retrieve him from his returning flight. This trip was particularly special for Oliver. He contemplated his relationship, the lack of relationship with me and what effect this was having on everyone involved. He wondered if maybe this was not going to work. He felt he may have to break things off when he returned home. As he walked through the gate he saw my dad’s curly hair towering above all of the anxious greeters waiting for their loved ones. I was there too nestled in between my dad’s  legs circling in and out of them as he stood waiting. I heard my dad say “Oh! There he is!” I looked up and saw my dad’s love smile. My head turned towards the object of his affection and I ran. I ran not away from Oliver but to him. He dropped his carry-on to the floor and with shock opened his arms as he bent down to my height. I put my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. I had missed him. My dad peered on with confusion and mixed elation. Oliver stayed knelt down until I had put my little body so close to his that he could pick me up with one arm. He kissed my cheek, looked at my dad and carried me back to the car. I insisted on sitting in the middle of them cuddled up to Oliver the entire two hour ride home. My dad did not know it, but I had just saved their relationship.

This is what family looks like

Happiness is a little girl loved by her two daddys

A very happy father’s day to all of the daddy’s out there. I am blessed with two father’s who continue to love and support me as I do them. Which is all that matters to a child…do their parents love and cherish this child? Will they do everything in their power to protect their child? Gay parents, straight parents, adopted parents, transgendered parents, lesbian parents, bi-sexual parents and plain ol parents all feel the same way. Yes they will and do.

So a special HAPPY FATHER’S DAY to my two wonderfully loving dad’s who continue to guide me through the best and worst of times! I love you!!!

Civil Rights and Obama….say it ain’t so!

Oh say it isn’t so! Obama is teetering between the religion right (who are on their way out of politics in my opinion…give it another 10 years) and gay rights. He made a lot of promises during his election to the gay community about DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act) and his feelings that it was discriminatory in nature. But, recently the Justice Department issued a brief on Arthur Smelt and Christopher Hammer v. United States of America to dismiss citing an incest case. WTF???!!! The sad thing is that this case is not strong (summary of the case it the fight for a gay married couple in California to have their marriage recognized in all states…ya know, something that hetero married couples have the right to? Get married in Alabama and your marriage is recognized in Washington) and in all likelihood should be dismissed. But, why would they make such a ridiculous argument as to compare it to a case that involved an uncle and a niece who wanted their marriage recognized??? It seems they have poured gasoline on the fire without cause and Obama being a constitutional lawyer should know this. Yes, I am fully aware that he did not compose the brief but what I am saying is that this is coming out of the mouths of his administration who represents him.

Now the balance to this is Obama has recently provided federal benefits to LGBT partners of federal employees. This is a good thing. He also appears to be saying that he will work towards repealing DOMA with Congress. Again, this is a good thing. I just have to wonder why his Department of Justice would issue a brief that is so Bush like. Sad. Sad. Sad.

Oh and by the way….Obama still does not believe in same sex marriage but he is for extending all of the legal benefits to same sex couples. Teetering.

Part 2 Chapter 1

Off my dad went to California and off my mom went in the abyss of drug abuse. My memories from this period are post cards. They are quick snap shots of scenes some of which I would prefer to forget. These post cards are filled in with tales told by family members during times in which young girls should have been in bed and not eavesdropping on adults. My mother was trying. She was trying to keep it together and trying to be a mother. But, who could expect someone still trying to recover from their parents dying when she was not even 10 years old only to be separated from her brother and sisters; sent to be raised by her strict religious aunt and uncle in Texas who were a far cry from the freedom encouraged by her parents who were no longer present to protect her from herself. My mother was a suffering soul and not even I was the salve she needed. She was just 23 years old.

She was leaving me with people I knew and did not know. She would tell them it would just be for one night; two weeks later she would return. I was 2 years old. I recall feeling extreme abandonment when she would leave me. In retrospect it was a worry that she would never come back; maybe I was a little fortune teller. I was often left with various family members, so there was a happiness being around my cousins and feeling protected from the rough edges of the neighborhood that surrounded me. Eventually after I spent many nights tuned months at my dad’s youngest sister’s house, word got back to my dad’s mother that I was not being cared for. My dad was her favorite of her three children. While she was still furious at my grandfather for leaving her for his mistress, my dad looked just like him and for this she cherished him. He doted on her and this translated to me being the favorite grandchild. My grandmother called my dad, now in California, and insisted he take back his roll as parent. My dad was scared. He was in a new relationship and did not know how is lover would take my grandmothers insistence that a child be moved into the home. 

What my dad did not know was before he moved down his lover had 2 options before he was asked to move in with him. He also had a lover in Philadelphia and he was trying to decide who he should ask to come live with him. The deciding factor was me. When my dad said he had a daughter his lover felt it could be his opportunity to have or be a part of family; something he had always wanted but because of his inability to bed with a woman and laws at that current time it was not something likely to happen. And to add a little spice to this decision, the lover went to see a psychic who told him that a little girl with blue eyes, big cheeks and blonde hair would be coming into his life. The decision was made and my dad was invited to California. 

The unexpected reaction from the lover was not something anyone would have anticipated. Normally a very pensive man, Oliver, made an instant decision that yes he would like for me to brought down to live with them as a family. And so another decision was made; another decision my mother was not yet aware of. A plan was created because my mother would undoubtably disagree to have me move away from her. But, then again my dad was never quite good at predicting my mother’s reactions. My grandmother was to come take me the next time my mother left me with my dad’s youngest sister. She would take me across the Canadian border and then I would stay at her house for 6 months while my new house was prepared (and so my two dad’s could have their last freedoms as a new couple in a house to themselves). 

To be continued………..

Gay Life…the first memory

One of my first memories is when my mom and my dad were together. I was about 2 years old and we lived in the same apartment complex as my mom’s youngest sister, aka my babysitter. I remember that my dad hung out at his friend’s place a lot where interestingly enough there were only men around. This was my first clue that my dad was gay. He would take me every now and then. I remember enjoying this apartment because they all treated me like little doll. They enjoyed holding me and catering to my requests. I was, after all, a Princess in Training. I was a tiny blue eyed blonde object of affection for all of his friends. I could not get enough of them and their cooing. They bought me toys and books for my visits. My uncles took care of me. They read to me, they cradled me in the blanket my grandmother knitted for me and they would talk to me as if I was the most important person in the world. The best part of it was that I was near my dad. 

Anywho, one of my very first memories is my mom and my dad getting into an argument. I remember they were yelling at each other, I was scared with the screaming and then the worst thing that could have happened occurred…my dad left. I ran after him. He was walking quickly and all I could see, being as that I was vertically challenged at the time, were his red stitched leather ankle boots and his jeans swaying around them. I tried to follow him past the pool and to his friends house, but I kept falling. The pathway had a slight incline and for reasons I cannot remember I had an inner-tube around my waste that I was desperate not to lose. I finally relented to the ground and started to cry. I cried the abandonment cry; ya know the one where you hyperventilate? Through my stinging tears I saw what I had hoped for. My legs stopped their brisk walk, turned around and great big hands scooped me up. He pulled my head to his neck and whispered “Honey, I didn’t know you were behind me.” Everything was instantly better. 

A year later my dad left my mom. Their arrangement no longer worked for him and her acceptance of who he was waned. My dad was my world; daddy’s girl does not quite describe it. I worshipped him and was addicted to his love. He visited me after he left but not as often as I wanted. I was only 3 years old and the world I had known was constantly changing. Actually, I don’t think it had ever been stable. My dad was gay. My mom knew this but in her desperation for love and consistency, she was willing to accept anything and any circumstances. I was not planned, but I was planned manipulation. This was not the first time my dad had left her. She had seduced him one night after what he thought was his final departure and I was the result. My dad was not surprised at the news because this had been resolved before, but this was the first time she had said she was keeping the baby. My dad’s reaction was a shock to her; he was elated. I often wonder what she had hoped for, but in truth it is painful to ponder. They were back together, my mom was happy and my dad was excited about becoming a father. Life was tolerable for them after I was born. I was their glue; the only thing they seemed to have left in common. My dad was in complete wonderment of me, but my mom was jealous of his attention. Oh she adored me…there is no doubt of that. Her affection was infectious and she never held back on telling me how much she loved me. My family says it was the happiest time in her life and her journal reflects this. My dad, however, became more distant and my mom resorted to drugs to soothe her pain. He would no longer give into her requests and attempted seduction. After 2 years of this game, my dad had met someone he could not stay away from. The problem was that this man lived in California and I lived in Washington. My dad decided he could visit and moved to California to follow his heart. He did not think my mom could handle if he took me from her. 

To be continued……..

Twilighting

So, I stayed up waaaaay too late last night finished the last book in the Twilight Series. Oh and by the way, if you have not read them and want to you may not want to read anymore. And I ask for your forgiveness in advance as I digress into my 16 year old alter. 

I kinda feel like the whole kitchen sink in the last book. She’s a vampire now, she has a power, they have a baby, the elitist vampires get mad and come to get em, they fight back and now happily ever after. Oh, and she learns how to let Edward in her head. And, I totally called that Jacob was going to imprint on Nessie. I felt kind of like: that was it? No more? All done now? I feel like I have been kicked out of the telescope as life goes on for these characters. What will happen to Renee’? Will more join their coven/family? Will Nessie ever slip up and become a rebellious teenager? Will Jacob stop being the Alpha of his pack? What happens when you mix a half vampire with a half werewolf? Why are there no gay vampires? 

And then I read on the author’s website that she had begun to write Twilight from Edward’s perspective ….who, is like totally my favorite character…but, then the book got leaked and she felt so betrayed that she could not write that book anymore. So, it is indefinitely shelved. Ummmm, exsqueeze me? Skunk you very much? So, the rest of the fans get punished because someone from her camp leaked the book. Ya – I don’t think so. LAAAAAAAME! I really think home girl needs to reconsider this act of treason and punish the correct people instead of the people who are thirsty for more (notice my reference??). Listen to the fans Stefenie. Listen. 

I almost picked up her other book, but because I am reading books for publishers and providing my feedback before the book comes out I opted not to. I have 3 that I need to read in the next 3 weeks so off I go into the land of unknown authors. Which can be fun…but I have a few books I have on my shelf waiting right now.