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So much to say.
Oct. 28th, 2012 10:32 amI'm having a very, very hard time in my head right now. Maybe it's the season, because i realized I feel exactly like I did last year at this time in terms of anxiety and sadness and fear. Even though all signs point to my life is awesome and fairly stable (even with only 6 bucks in my bank account, fuck). Yet I am freaking out about losing everything.
Tomorrow I'm going to begin the active search for a therapist who will get my super-queer-committed-relationship-slutting-around-parenting-twisted-kinky AND take state health insurance.
I was not meaning to get into this but... There's a lot going on around my dad. If you want more of a feel, look at my Coming Out Day post on facebook. And then understand that he just got married to a woman who has three kids (twin 10s and a 13), after dating her for three months. He has a new family. And I'm bitter, suddenly, about the fact that he's constantly telling me to move there, come visit, etc, and has NEVER come to visit me without having a job near my house. You wanna spend eternity with me, but you can't put the fucking effort in to spend a weekend with me? I know it is terrible, but I should mention he lives in NC and his wife, who died four years ago, was the most jealous woman I've ever known. And her name was Sandy.
Then yesterday my grandmother (Lorie Welch's mother) told me she doesn't "believe in being gay". She chose not to vote for president because Obama is for gay marriage. She has two dyke daughters and a dyke granddaughter. She tried to make me a shit sandwich with the fact that I'm "the best mom she's ever known." I'm very proud that I did not tell her to go fuck herself.
This election might kill me.
For the most part, things at home are good. Mac moved in when I got back and we are mostly having domestic bliss. We're going to start trying to get Mac pregnant in the next couple of months. I want to tell you all about Alaska, and hopefully someday I'll get to it. Oliver is so amazing. Challenging, and funny, and beautiful, and so smart. Now if I could just get him to poop on the damn toilet. Oh and I'm suddenly in childcare crisis, so the stress factor is up by about a million.
Wow. I really only meant to type that first paragraph. Oliver just said, "Mom, you know what? I love you mom. I have a question for you." "What, baby?" "You know what?" "What baby?" "I love you so much."
So what the fuck am I complaining about?
Tomorrow I'm going to begin the active search for a therapist who will get my super-queer-committed-relationship-slutting-around-parenting-twisted-kinky AND take state health insurance.
I was not meaning to get into this but... There's a lot going on around my dad. If you want more of a feel, look at my Coming Out Day post on facebook. And then understand that he just got married to a woman who has three kids (twin 10s and a 13), after dating her for three months. He has a new family. And I'm bitter, suddenly, about the fact that he's constantly telling me to move there, come visit, etc, and has NEVER come to visit me without having a job near my house. You wanna spend eternity with me, but you can't put the fucking effort in to spend a weekend with me? I know it is terrible, but I should mention he lives in NC and his wife, who died four years ago, was the most jealous woman I've ever known. And her name was Sandy.
Then yesterday my grandmother (Lorie Welch's mother) told me she doesn't "believe in being gay". She chose not to vote for president because Obama is for gay marriage. She has two dyke daughters and a dyke granddaughter. She tried to make me a shit sandwich with the fact that I'm "the best mom she's ever known." I'm very proud that I did not tell her to go fuck herself.
This election might kill me.
For the most part, things at home are good. Mac moved in when I got back and we are mostly having domestic bliss. We're going to start trying to get Mac pregnant in the next couple of months. I want to tell you all about Alaska, and hopefully someday I'll get to it. Oliver is so amazing. Challenging, and funny, and beautiful, and so smart. Now if I could just get him to poop on the damn toilet. Oh and I'm suddenly in childcare crisis, so the stress factor is up by about a million.
Wow. I really only meant to type that first paragraph. Oliver just said, "Mom, you know what? I love you mom. I have a question for you." "What, baby?" "You know what?" "What baby?" "I love you so much."
So what the fuck am I complaining about?
