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I’m used to closing doors and never opening them again.  Not from hard or bad feelings, but just because when a door is closed, it’s closed.   I don’t do well with ambiguity, so I don’t like to have nebulous options.  I like everything as defined as possible.  And once something has a definition, it’s hard to change it.

That said, I’m opening a door that I thought was closed.  More accurately, I didn’t open the door, but I did let it be opened, and I am seeing what’s on the other side.  It’s a weird feeling.  What convinced me to let it open again was a friend reminding me that this year has been full of new things, and why not let this be one of them?  [Side Note: Did I mention that I’ve been out for a little more than a year?  And what a year it’s been…]

I don’t like the unsurety I feel, but I never like unsurety, and life is full of it.  How does one become sure of another person?  Better put, how does one know when it’s the appropriate time to be sure of another person?  Timing is everything.  Until you are sure, you should be cautious.  I am not good at being cautious, as I’ve learned.  I’m good at jumping in feet first, at least emotionally.  But if I learned anything from my experience with LM, I learned it’s a bad idea to jump alone. [Insert rueful smile here.]

Somehow, maybe, I will learn to be cool as a cucumber.


This year for Pride, my two oldest nieces wanted to come with me to the parade, so I had them spend the night on Saturday.  I’m glad I had them, because if I want allies in my family, I probably have to grow them myself.  But…

On Saturday, I went to the street fair and met up with a few friends.  It was a lot of fun, but I had to leave so early that I barely got to do any day drinking or actual celebrating.  Then I drove up to get the kids, and we watched a movie and just relaxed.

Sunday was the parade.  The kids (age 14 and 12) seemed to enjoy themselves, but definitely hit their limit a bit earlier than I would have.  One of my friends was part of the dykes on bikes this year, so I saw him pre-parade. [Side note: this friend was actually the first woman I slept with (or so I thought, ha), but has since come out as a trans man.  I am still confused about how to talk about him in the past tense.  Any advice?  Should I just google it?]

At the post parade festivities, I found another of my friends (that I’d also seen during the parade), but couldn’t find the third friend I was looking for.  However, on the walk back to the bus, guess who I did see?  LM.  I kept walking.  But apparently she hasn’t left for the Marines quite yet.

When we got home, my parents and sister came over for birthday celebration things.  (Today is my birthday.  34 years old. Man.)  It was nice to have them here–things do feel better, more open (despite their continued dislike of me being gay, but they’re trying…), but I was really happy when everyone left.  It was great to have the apartment to myself again.  Kids move a lot.  And make a lot of noise.

I’m glad I brought the kids, but next year, I’m flying solo, or at least childless.  There was all sort of debauchery that I could not partake in because I had to be responsible for two minors.  I should note that most of the debauchery I am imagining has to do with alcohol and eye candy, so don’t get all excited, thinking I’m cooler than I am.

Anyway, I took today off work for my birthday.  But I’m probably spending the day doing homework because my assignment is due today, and I haven’t started it yet.  Oops.  On the other hand, I have a feeling it won’t take long, so perhaps it will just be this morning, and then onto fun?

June is a great month.

Last week was pretty much awful.

I’m not going to talk about Orlando because I don’t have the words.  It is a horrible, horrible thing that happened.  I’m, we’re, still reeling.

To top that off, I had a fight with my parents–which made for an extra emotional few days.  But, in actuality, I think that helped.  I’ve been so careful this last year to not bring up being gay around them, to try to be sensitive to the fact that they don’t know what to do with it.  But, I was holding it against them and getting increasingly frustrated.  So now things are a bit more open and while they’re still not happy, I at least feel like I can acknowledge my queerness around them.  It’s a start.


It’s June.  It’s Pride month.  And my city’s Pride is coming up.  I’m planning on bringing my oldest niece to the parade. She wants to come, and I think it’d be good for her to do so.  My brother (her dad) seemingly only had one concern–nudity, to which I assured him that there is virtually none (thanks to the commercialization of Pride, but I’m actually not complaining because I’m not a huge fan of public nudity in general).  Anyway, I think it will be a good experience, and I’m looking forward to the chance to talk to her more.  Last I knew, she was more or less questioning her sexuality, but I’m not sure where she is on that currently.

It’s also almost my birthday.  I’ll be 34 this month–crazy!  Time goes so quickly.  I’m also starting that Python course this week, which means I have to get serious about doing coursework.  What with Pride and my birthday this weekend, I guess I’m going to have to get the first module and assignment completed early, boo.

Well, my Sophie-cat is giving me a death glare, which I interpret to mean “bedtime.”  It may be the summer solstice (and a strawberry moon!), but I’m still a grandma.

I know I’ve talked a bit about my work situation on here.  The sum of it is that I took a new job in February because 1. I was bored at my old job, and 2. I needed to make more money.  Well, and I am hoping, someday, to actually move into the city. But that is currently a huge aside.

I made it very clear to my current job when I was interviewing that I need to be challenged and kept busy.  It has been about four months (is that right? only four?), and I am bored to tears.  I don’t know why, but they won’t give me hardly any work to do.  I know I’m a good worker.  I know they like me.  My co-workers pass off some of their work to me, so that I have something to occupy myself, but I am lucky if I get 2 billable hours a day.  (Thank god I get paid regardless–not that there will ever be any bonuses or raises.)  I am losing the company money by my lack of work.  And I am losing motivation to stay.  I’m to the point where I think it was a mistake to take this job. It just doesn’t seem to be a good fit.

Over the years, I’ve had a lot of friends suggest I look into tech.  That it would be interesting and challenging and would provide me the alone work I so strongly desire.  (Please never make me work with others on a regular basis. I just want to sit alone in my cubicle and get shit done.)  I’m going to start by learning Python..  I know I could teach myself, but I’m going to do a certificate course at my local university–starting this month.  It’ll be about a year in total, but I think it will be worth it.  I hear I could start as a tester and move on from there.

In the meantime, I’ll probably start looking for another job.  I’m not sure if I’ll find one, but I dread going into work every day right now because I literally have nothing to do.  I wish I could work on other things, like Python, at work, but I think that would be frowned upon.  Instead, I scour finance websites and read article after article about investing, personal finance, the economy, markets, etc.  At the very least, I’ll be able to teach my friends (and myself) how to manage finances in a real way.

I just need to remember that a year is hardly any time at all.  And once I start learning, I can get involved in some of the open source stuff online, start networking, and begin learning actual skills to help me find a job when I’m ready.

I have dreams of grandeur, but I am stuck in the mud.

This weekend B and I went camping.  It was glorious!  We spent two nights by the river, which was just fantastic.  It was pretty hot, but yesterday we had the bright idea (okay, B had the bright idea, and I followed suit) to dip our (non-cotton) shirts in the river, then put them back on.  It was way too cold to actually submerge ourselves.  I’m going to tell you: despite the temps being in the eighties, with wet shirts, we didn’t feel the heat at all.

B brought a hammock, and we spent a fair amount of time reading–she in the hammock, me in my camp chair.  Or we talked. Or moseyed around the site.  Or mused about the hetero couples/groups surrounding us and whether or not we’d act that ridiculously if we were on a trip with a bunch of hot lesbians we were trying to impress…

We also did a fair amount of day drinking and a bit of pot smoking.  (Note 1: Pot is legal where I live. Note 2: all wood cutting and kindling making was done before intoxication. We’re not fools.)

I also got 9-10 bug bites because I insisted on wearing shorts and sleeveless tops.  It was worth it, but I might think about investing in some lightweight hiking/camping clothes that are long sleeved/pants.  I think B only got a couple bites in comparison and she remained covered most of the time.

We also learned that we need to check how dry the wood is before we buy it. One bundle was damp and wouldn’t burn, so we had to set it up by the fire to dry for the next day.  It took us quite a while to get a fire going that first night… lame damp wood.  Plus we only brought queer newspapers to burn (since that’s all we ever pick up in the city), which we hadn’t finished reading (oops), so we read the good articles right before burning them.

Today we got back home in time to still get chores done.  I’m not sure how much B got done at her place, but I know I did fairly well here.  The cats seem happy to have me back, too.

I had a really relaxing weekend.  I’m super glad to have a camping friend in my life. It had been too long.

I only have a few minutes before I need to get my ass out the door, but…

I got a suit last weekend!  I could go into the whole experience, but just imagine suits being a shit-ton more expensive than you realized and also none of them fitting right.  Especially the pants.  Oh, and add in a wool allergy so that your choices are limited to almost nothing.

I ended up at Men’s Warehouse.  I didn’t start there, but I did end there.  They have this cool custom suit line where you can pick your fit, your fabric, etc.  And tailoring is, of course, included.  It was very reasonably priced, too.  So I picked a navy cotton suit.  On the suit label inside the front panel (idk if you all know what I’m talking about because I barely do), they put custom words.  I guess a lot of folk put their names (nope, not me).  But I am having them put, “Butch Please.”  hahahahahaha   I think I’m  hilarious.  Many thanks to Autostraddle’s Kate for her column that first introduced this wondrous phrase to me.

I won’t talk about the sales guy right now.  He started strong but ended weak, and I did nothing about it for a few reasons, which were probably stupid.  The friend I had with me was super angry at him, although it may have been hanger, as we took much longer than expected and lunch was just a distant hope at that point…  But, still, I should talk about it later because I’m surprised at my lack of demanding respect.

Off to go do things!

Oh, and one last note: my next tattoo is scheduled for July 17th!  Eeekk!!