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Happy 4th of July, Beau!

He is fearless of thunder storms. Lightning flashes, thunder crashes, and wild winds rage…and Beau Bob? All we can see is his back side because his head is thrust through the doggy door with his nose pointed skyward. Whoa! What’s this? We never had these at the track! In comes his head, he shakes off the rain and goes about his doggy business.

Fireworks, nail guns, anything that goes bang, on the other hand,
reduce him to a quivering, quaking mass of terrified greyhound. He makes for the “shelter” – the master bathroom, where he stays until all is quiet again. So on the 4th of July and New Years Eve we make the shelter as comfortable as we can and wait for the neighbors to run out of fireworks.

Guilt by Association

We work in the same building, but are more likely to run into one another at church as we did yesterday. We were getting to the goodbyes when she told me that she would like to visit with me at work, but that she couldn’t come to my office; I would have to go to hers. Because, she said, she isn’t “out,” and I am. I assured her that straight women hang out in my office, as well as an occasional man.

This has happened before — a lesbian who is afraid to be seen with me at work/school/fill-in-the-blank — because I’m not closeted. ‘Cause ya know if you’re seen with a lesbian, you must be one too.

It’s not my looks that give me away. I’m a far cry from butch, and don’t fit into an androgynous stereotype. I’m feminine and assumed by the uninformed to be heterosexual. Nor am I an in-your-face, political, gay pride kind of dyke.

I’m just me. When I talk about my life with others, I do so in a straight-forward way. It doesn’t take long for folks to figure out my relationship with the woman I bought a house with and whose family I visit on holidays.

My theory is that if I am comfortable with me and speak in a natural, casual way about what goes on in my life, then others will be comfortable with me as well.

That’s not to say being out hasn’t cost me. It has. But the price of living closeted and in fear is way too high for me to pay. I simply don’t have the energy required to maintain the facade day in and day out. But more important, if I’m hiding a big chunk of who I am from someone, then my relationship with that person is based on deception. And worse, it’s based on shame because I fear rejection if they discover who I really am. My self-esteem struggles to stay afloat as it is; it can’t handle the heavy weight of secret shame.

It’s clear my closeted coworker thinks differently. I respect her choice, and if she feels her heterosexual cover is maintained best by visiting in her office instead of mine, then that is what I’ll happily do.

Fiesta!!

Last week I answered the doorbell to find two of my neighbors from next door. One of them, a young woman, was there to sell me raffle tickets from her church, The Virgin of Guadalupe Cathedral, and the other, an almost teen aged boy came with her to translate. I dug in my purse for the $5 and the transaction was made.

The boy–I’ve seen him before and feel like I should know his name–also wanted to give me advanced warning of the party and loud music that would be part of it on Saturday. I was a bit surprised that they took the trouble to mention the party because loud Latino music has become part of our weekends since the Mexican family moved in next door almost three years ago. It almost never goes on later than 11:30 and we’ve adapted. With a little prodding from the young woman, the boy elaborated, “There’s going to be a baptism.” My eyes lit up and I asked whose? “My son,” said the woman as the boy said, “My nephew.”

That’s how I came to be invited to the baptism of Daniel at 10:00 am on Saturday at the Cathedral of the Virgin or Guadalupe. Oh, and I was invited to the party as well.

I wasn’t able to make the baptism, but while G and I were out running errands and shopping I picked up a baptismal greeting card in Spanish and a dessert tray from Sam’s. Saturday evening I wrote “la familia de Daniel” on the envelope and wrote, “desde sus vecinas” followed by our names on the inside of the card. I took the card, the tray, and my happy excitement and made my way through the men in the front yard. “Buscando la madre de Daniel.” I said, awkward and insecure in my Spanish.

At the front door the women invited me in, wondering no doubt who is this gringa and why is she here? I repeated my purpose, “Buscando la madre de Daniel”? And then she materialized from the brown sea of faces and welcomed me. The tray and card were swept away to I don’t know where, along with whatever Spanish I knew.

Daniel’s mother took me to a bedroom to gaze upon precious baby Daniel sleeping away in spite of the light and voices. She dug in a gift bag and came up with a couple of baptismal announcements (?), which she handed to me. One was accordion-like with the name of the baby, his birth date, the name of his parents and inexplicably a quarter was inserted in the last panel. The second was a blue card with a baptismal prayer and a small photo of Daniel with his parents.

We tried to talk, but eventually and English-speaking relative was recruited to translate. They invited me to stay and eat. When I declined they sent me home with a plastic container of brisket dipped from a large electrical cooking pot sitting on the kitchen floor. G and I ate it for dinner along with steamed vegetables.

Then the live band fired up. If it hadn’t been so cold out, I would have been tempted to rejoin the party. The singer was pretty bad, but one of the musicians (unfamiliar instrument) sounded really good. I wanted to see my neighbors dancing in the driveway. And while he slept sweetly oblivious to the fiesta, I wanted to join his family and to celebrate the new life of baby Daniel.

We love, we love, we love our calender boy!

Okay, it won’t be this picture, but one of the photos we sent to GALT (Greyhound Adoption League of Texas) has been selected to appear in their 2007 calendar!!! It will be Beau’s second year to grace the pages of the GALT calendar. His parents are so proud and his sister, Windy, leaves the room whenever we go into another chorus of “We love, we love, we love our calendar boy.”

Ain’t she fine?

Happy Birthday, kd!!!

Where the sidewalk ends

…that’s where our house is. The porch light was on, the front door open and the candy bowl full of Snickers and Butterfingers. Still I only had one pirate, one princess, one vampire, two big boys with truly frightening masks (Freddie Krueger type things?) and one kid in no costume at all show up at my door. What’s up with that?!

My theory is that the lack of sidewalk and poor lighting are part of the problem in attracting trick or treaters to my house. I mean…Halloween is my most favorite holiday–all fun and unburdened by the familial expectations and responsibilities of Thanksgiving and Christmas. I love passing out candy to kids…the little Spidermen and gypsies while their parents hover in the background beaming and prompting, “Say thank you Daniel.” The truth is I don’t care how old the kids are or whether or not they’re in costume (but I do make them say “trick or treat.”)

I’m thinking next year I need attention-getting lights, maybe strobe lights, and loud spooky music. Yeah, that’s it and I’ll wear a costume…

Not yet

Linda said it’s time to rip out the raggedy zinnias in the front flower bed and put in winter color. But today I saw a butterfly clinging to a blossom as it was whipped about in the wind. And the bees are still feeding on them, as well as on the marigolds. I’ll leave them a little longer.

Such a frickin’ cliche

Looks like the five-year warranty on our lesbian relationship is up. The newness has worn off. It’s lost its shine. This year one gizmo after another breaks, and no sooner do we get it patched up, then the motor starts to spit ominous black smoke.

a gay girl and her exhusband

Went to see Man of the Year with my ex husband. I wasn’t ready of course, so he sat on the end of my bed, admiring my mother’s reupholstered red chair and talking to me while I finished my make up. We took off in his old pick up truck and even though the evening was only mildly warm, the a/c couldn’t cool the cab down enough for me–and I’m cold natured. Traffic on I-30 was bad because of the Fair so he bailed and we keep running into dead ends before making our way over to 75. After a little cussing and a lot of laughing, he startled me with an abrupt illegal left turn off of Haskell into the CityPlace Theater parking lot. We shared a large popcorn and Coke. He wanted diet, but I just can’t do diet fountain drinks. They’re even worse than the stuff in cans. Movie was good, better than I expected. Then we headed to the Cantina Laredo in Lakewood for dinner. I thought about suggesting Uncle Julio’s for the Swirls, but the Cantina is much quieter. Things are going well with his new girlfriend in Missouri. They met through work, but they’ve only talked on the phone and emailed…and he likes what he knows of her so far and is going to meet her next month. He asks about G and how things are going with our couples counseling.

Now I’m home and I’ve fed the dogs (greyhounds). I’ve missed a couple of calls from G. She’s attending a conference in Orlando–at Disney no less. I sat down at the computer to respond to emails that I should have answered days ago. But being ADD I followed another trail and ended up here, opening a Blogger account and telling you all about my evening.