So, what am I doing February 12th?

That's simple. I'll be participating in a protest outside of the Moody Bible Institute.

So why the Moody Bible Institute?

Because they teach their students that it's okay to verbally accost strangers in public places, and, are such cowards that they do it in numbers.

Why do I say this?

About a month ago, a GLN member was sitting on the Clark Street bus, taking it back to his home. This GLN member was alone. Nearby, several Moody students sat and looked at him for a while. They recognized him for being on TV, and, they made a conscious decision to harass this member.

"You know, Jesus will be waiting for you on the other side."

"God can change you if you let Him into your heart."

As the GLN member got of the bus, well before his stop, one student said to him "We'll be waiting for you."

You tell me those aren't threats. This is disgusting. These people can't even do this one on one, they're such cowards. Such cowards don't believe the words they say, because they say what's been beaten into their own heads.

Because Moody Bible Institute condones and possibly even teaches their students to attack people who are openly GLBT, the GLBT folk must fight back. We must send a message to these bigots that attacking us in private or public places is unacceptable.

The bigots at Moody have called gay marriage "the most dangerous social experiment of our time". I guess that slavery wasn't all that bad. And the Holocaust? That was nothing! Psssshhht! Please.

Don't you know that gay people will be the end of the human race?

February 12th at noon outside of the Moody Bible Institute. Feel free to pass this along to anyone you know. Let's show these bigots that there are more of the kind of people that believe in equality than the opression of a minority.

Or......

You could sit on your ass in a library from 3 til 6 watching movies and getting verbally harassed into joining the ISO, courtesy of Equal Marriage NOW!

Your choice, your voice.

Where do you think it will be heard?

It was going to happen eventually....

I did something Thursday night that I have never, ever done in 15+ years of having sex. Not ever before, during or after sex. Never.

I cried during sex.

I have never done that before. It scared the shit out of me.

The emotion hit me like a thick wave. It flooded from the top of my head all the way down to my knees. For a moment, I was confused; I didn't know what it was.

I tried to choke it back, to stop it from taking over me. I was afraid of making a fool of myself; I was embarassed, ashamed. I wanted to get off of him (I was on top) and crawl into a corner to hide.

I didn't want him to see me like this; I didn't want to show so much of myself. I didn't want to be so vulnerable; I would rather talk my way out of emotions than show them.

Then it happened. I began to cry. For a few moments, I cried. I couldn't have stopped myself if I had wanted to. I laid down on top of him and cried. I wanted to cry into the pillow so he wouldn't see me or hear me, but our bodies wouldn't let me.

After I was done, I got back up, and found that I was more freaked out by my crying than he was (if he was, he didn't show it).

After a few more moments, I realized that the whole thing had sapped me of all of my energy. It took all I had left to switch positions to let him ride me until he came.

And that's all I'm going to tell you.

I never said this was a PG blog.

Sexy Grilled Cheese

I make good grilled cheese sandwiches. No, I make great grilled cheese sandwiches. They are so great, dare I say they are sexy!

I don't know why I put that there, but, I did.

Over the past several days, here's what happened;

Friday - I survived my TV appearance (it was on cable channel 21), and, my bf and I have a new name for the gay guy that keeps leering at him; Hippie Phone Boy. No sex.

Saturday - Woke up at 8:45, called my therapist to let her know that they was no way in hell that I was going to be at her office at 10am, and rescheduled my appt. I made some kick-ass enchiladas for myself and the bf. Even had enough leftovers for dinner Sunday. Still no sex.

Sunday - We woke up around 10, made breakfast, went to Borders to hang out for about 3 hours, came home, had leftovers, played dominos and the bf left. Yep, you guessed it, no sex.

Sunday night - The "call" with the "other" woman. Strangely enough, I was able to sleep just fine.

Monday afternoon - Got home from work, tried to calm myself down from one of the most serious anxiety attacks I've had in a long time. Scared the shit out of me.

As for the "call", turns out the other woman decided to play "North Shore brat" and didn't want to commit to anything. Sigh of relief commenced after hearing news.

Yesterday, I ended up working a 10 hour shift, since people either couldn't come in or were running late, 45 minutes of that by myself on the sales floor on a New Release Tuesday, nonetheless. When I punched out, I wanted to cry, I was that tired.

My mom came to pick me up and nearly got into an accident doing so. Turns out some shit was going down between unmarried brother and his bitchy-ass possessive girlfriend. She left his place and hopefully will never come back.

Today, I got to sleep late. I've cleaned all of the baseboards in the kitchen, and, wiped down some of the wood baseboards and trim in the front hallway. I've gotten two loads of laundry done and made myself some french toast and bacon for breakfast/lunch.

I still have to finish packing, since I'm going to spend the night at his place. And yes, we are having sex tonight. If not, he gets to listen to me get off, his choice.

People, it's been a week. Give me a break, will you?

"The girl's got guts," she said. No one could disagree because there they were, all over the sidewalk.

I think it's funny, don't you?

Well, this weekend, my bf and I wanted to see if we could endure each other's company without having sex with each other. I think we did pretty well, actually. We ended up having a very nice dinner (I made enchiladas), which in turn made for some nice left-overs. We had pancakes Saturday morning and french toast this morning.

We also spent several hours at a Borders just looking at books while he decided how he was going to spend his $50 gift card. He ended up buying a book about train stations (not surprising) and he bought several sketch books as well. I now have one of them, since drawing was one of my passions.

Anyway, tonight is supposed to be "the" night. My bf is supposed to have a serious discussion with the "other" woman and find out what she wants and what she's looking for.

Let's play some "if-then", shall we?

If he doesn't ask and plays the "It wasn't the right time" game with me, he's just being wishy-washy about the whole thing and was too scared to ask. "Too scared to ask" means that's he afraid of alienating her and assumes that I'll be there and wait forever.

If he asks her and she says something along the lines of "Well, I don't know." "I'm not sure." and he decides to echo her sentiments, that means that he's dumb and blind to the sure thing he's got in front of him.

Either way, he's disrespecting me. I cannot stand indecisiveness and insecurity. The fact that he cannot respect me enough to give me an answer or to assume that I'll wait for him forever is enough for me.

Respect is far more sacred to me than even love. Couples fall in and out of love all the time. Respect is what matters to them. Respect is what stops people from cheating on their spouses. Respect is what stops couples from fighting and from yelling and abusing each other.

If he cannot at least give me respect, then I do not want him even as a friend. Even my friends respect me; if he cannot, I don't want him in my life at all.

If after the conversation, he decides to be with her, I told him that I would need some time to heal from this and that I wouldn't talk to him for a while. He understood. At the same token, I also told him that if he decided that he would just remain friends with her, I know that it would hurt. I told him that if he needed some time off and away from me, I would understand.

Now, if he finds out that she also wants what he wants, this will be a sticky situation for him. Women out there will say that he should stay with me because I'm in front of him, and, he knows that I am a sure thing. He doesn't know what she's going to be like or if it's going to work as well with her as it is with me. This is all true, but, it's still his choice. I will respect him because he will have respected me by telling me this.

However, if he decides to get all cocky and shit and say something brilliant like;

"Well, it looks like you've got some competition."

I'll say something like "Really, asshole? Let me make this choice easy for you then, hot shot. You go chase after her and leave me alone. For the rest of my life. I'll be by tomorrow night to give you your shit and you give me mine, okay?"

"Competition"? Competition is for insecure assholes looking for an ego stroke. I am not an ego stroke. I am a woman who knows what she wants and knows when the person in front of her isn't going to give it to her. That's what I am.

If they don't actually get a chance to talk tonight, they're going to have to have this conversation eventually, yes? At least he'll know where I stand, whether he reads this blog or I tell him directly.

So, that covers everything, right?

Yes, it does.

Tomorrow, I'll be commenting on this whole "SpongeBob is gay" bullshit coming down from the self-righteous mountain.

Trying to fit a square peg in a round hole are we?

I've spent the past several days trying to figure out how to speak to some of the emotion that was expressed in my comments section of my Monday post.

I am appreciative of the passion and concern, but, it kinda pissed me off the more I thought about it.

Why?

Number One;
The wrong description was used in my book. "Insensitive asshole" does not apply here. "Selfish punk-ass" maybe, but not "insensitive asshole". Square peg in a round hole kind of thing.

Number Two;
He told me upfront how he felt. Would you have rather have it that he lie to my face about being exclusive with me, then turn around and date this woman behind my back and me find out about it the wrong way? He is being honest about his feelings, and, he deserves kudos for that. Hell, he deserves a shitload more than kudos; he deserves and has been getting my thanks about all of this.

I have a guy in my life who is being honest and telling me point blank how he feels about this situation. Women want their men to be honest with them. When they are, this is what they get for it? Name-calling and self-doubt dumped on them? No wonder why they can't be honest with us; they're damned if they do and they're damned if they don't.

Why should they go through the hassle of being shit on for being honest when they can delay the consequences? Any decent, intelligent human being will avoid conflict until the very last possible moment. Avoidance ultimately leads to lies. I'll pass up on all that unnecessary drama, thanks.

Number Three;
I haven't told you what the consequences of his decision would be, because quite honestly, I hadn't thought of them until yesterday, and, I have just realized even more as I have typed this.

I told him on the phone Tuesday night what I felt should happen if he decides to go out with this other woman when she gets back to Chicago (she's halfway across the country right now). She could come back in March, in June, or never for all he knows.
If he decides that he still wants to go out with her when she gets back, it'll be the end of us. I told him that if he still feels that he needs to "explore" that possibility, then quite honestly, he and I aren't meant to be. Cut and dry.

But there is something else that I have realized as this post has been created. As couples move from one point in their relationship to another, they use different "language". People who have just met speak one set of words, while a couple that has lived together for some time speak another. Newly engaged couples speak a different language than a couple who is committed/married for some time.

I've noticed that when we speak, we don't use the same language. Sometimes when we talk to each other in person, I'm finding myself correcting or clarifying things he says. Sometimes when we talk on the phone, I notice that either he corrects himself with some words he uses, or, I use a different word altogether.

In the past, I may have been corrected by the people I've loved, but, I've never really clarified, corrected or made the conscious effort to use different language. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've never done that before. Not with the people that I have previously fallen in love with. I've been sitting here trying to figure out why, and, I have.

It's not an ode to maturity; it's definitely something else.

There is another consequence to his choice.

At this point in time, because he cannot be certain about whether he will want to date this other woman or not, I am not giving my all. I'm not giving all of myself to this relationship, and to him.

I think this is fair. If he chooses to not be certain about us, I have to choose that as well. I can't force myself to think and feel a way that the person I'm with chooses not to. I would be fooling myself and creating stress for myself and ultimately hate towards someone who doesn't deserve it. I can't fool myself. I can only move as far and as fast as my bf wants to do the same.

At the same token, he's going to have to make a choice eventually. I can't sit on my hands waiting for him to be certain about "us" forever. If I'm only giving part of myself to something for too long, I get bored and I want out. Too boot, I tend to be very negative about the whole experience and towards the individuals involved because ultimately, it was a waste of my time and energy, and all for naught. I tend not to associate with the people involved after such an experience.

Do I love him? Yes, I've told him so.

Am I falling in love with him (and there is a difference)? Yes, I've told him so. No lies there.

Am I in love with him? No.

I can't fall completely in love with him unless we're both sure about this, and, right now, neither of us are. We've only been seeing each other for a month now; we both have to take this day by day.


And now, on a more lighter note, I have a newsworthy event I must inform all of you fabulous fans about.

I'm going to be on TV. It's a local channel, but, I'll be on TV. I'm going to be interviewed by Bob Schwartz on the CAN TV's monthly show. It will run Friday from 6:30 pm to 7pm, local access channel 19 on cable (Chicagoland area).

If you can watch, cool. If not, I'm sure I'll have a tale ot two to tell in my next post, since it's a live call-in show. Either way, I'll be chatting with you lovely people later.

If you think that was kind and thoughtful, wait till you read this!

On Saturday, I went to check my mailbox and found something that was hysterical, yet sad.

Before I say what it was, I want to give a bit of background to you all.

After the Nov.2nd elections were done, the Democratic Party (the minority party in the Senate) lost its leader, Senator Tom Daschle when he lost his re-elction bid to a Republican.

The Democratic Party has collapsed within itself after the losses on Nov. 2nd. They blamed gays, and in particular, gay rights activists such as myself, for "pushing" the issue of gay marriage. They said it turned off voters who were liberal and brought out more of the conservative vote.

Bullshit. The Dems lost because they picked a piss-poor leader. Kerry was more vague than my customers, for fucks sake. Please.

The gay marriage issue became a "wedge" issues because the gay community let it become a wedge issue. Organizations such as the ACLU, HRC, Lamda, NGLTF and others abandoned us.

WE let ourselves become a wedge issue instead of making the gay marriage fight what is truly is; a civil rights struggle.

But what happened in the Senate afterwards amazed me.

The Democratic party was forced to choose another leader in the Senate. As the Democratic cowards collapsed within themselves, they decided to nominate a leader who would be reflective of that collapse, not one who could lead them out of it.

That nominee was Senator Harry Reid of Nevada.

Simply put, Reid would give no fight to the Republicans, and, is a thinly disguised Republican himself. He is a coward that does not want to make waves.

But, he got elected by the party unanimously, which disgusted me.

While Reid was under consideration, America Blog proposed a letter and email writing campaign to stop Reid from getting elected. I took them up on that offer and here is a copy of the email I sent to Senator Christopher Dodd (Connecticut).

I come to you not as an Illinoisan, but, as a Democrat.

This day is a dark one, yes, but, our fight is not without hope.

I want this chance to say that I believe that Harry Reid is the wrong choice for Senate Democratic leader. He is, at best, a thinly disguised Republican who is fearful of making waves. His choice as Democratic Senate Leader would be a huge disservice to the legacy of Tom Daschle.

I feel that you would be a much better choice, not only for our demoralized party, but, for the future of the working class. Tom Daschle stood up to the Republican party. I cannot see Harry Reid doing the same. His fear of not "going with the flow" so to speak will short-change the party, and, the working class of our nation.

I fear that, plainly put, Senator Reid will be walked all over by the Republican party like a doormat at a whorehouse on a Friday night.

This message will not be a long, drawn out analysis of Senator Reid's voting record; the fact that he had to be virtually harassed to join in on the additions to ENDA speaks for him.

The fact of the matter is that the Democratic party needs a leader now more than ever, especially in the Senate. A leader stands up for what is right, no matter what the consequence. Senator Reid can't even embrace the basic ideals of civil rights and protection for all.

Senator Reid is not that leader.

You are.

Thank you for reading,


Pretty blunt, eh?

Unfortunately, Dodd and others went along and appoved Reid as Senate Minority Leader.

So, what did I get in the mail that was funny, yet sad.

I response from Senator Dodd's office.

Here it is;

Dear Miss -------- -------,

Thank you for contacting me regarding the slection of Senator Harry Reid (D-NV) as Senate Minority Leader. It was a pleasure to hear from you, and I greatly appreciate your kind and thoughtful words.

As you may know, I voted to approve Senator Reid as Democratic Leader, and he was unanimously selected by Senate Democrats on November 16, 2004. I am confident that Senator Reid will lead our party with courage and conviction in the Senate as we continue out fight to make America a safer, more just, and more prosperous nation for all citizens.

Again, thank you for your support and encouragement. Please do not hesitate to contact me in the future if I can be of further assistance.

Sincerely,
Christopher J. Dodd
United States Senator


Oh yeah, my words were thoughtful, but they sure as hell weren't kind.

It was hysterical when I read it, and, sad now as I type this out.

For those of you who think that the Democratic party is going to be the savior of the gay community, I hope this makes you think twice, and, maybe three times before you continue to think that way.

That "L" word......

Hmm, lots of things have happened over the past several weeks, particularly, the past several weekends. I won't try to rehash the post I've been working on since the 10th; I think it's lost its potentcy since then.

So, where do I start?

Well, several weekends ago, I threw out my back shoveling snow, so, my bf took care of me. It got so bad that I had to call in sick to work last Sunday so that I could recover.

Let me type that again.

My bf took care of me.

I didn't put that in bold to make anyone jealous; I'm just amazed that I'm typing that sentence. Still.

But, with that amazement comes a question that I struggle to answer; no, I don't struggle with the answer, I just may not like it. I'll talk about the question later. I'd like to play catch-up here if you don't mind.

My bf came over the Sunday I called in to work and made me both lunch and dinner. He arrived over at my place after church and we spent the rest of the day together. Not having sex (it would have screwed up my back even more), not even talking about anything serious, just spending time together and having him take care of me and my messed up back. I didn't even have to ask, he simply suggested and I accepted.

I've been spending some serious time with my bf over the past several weeks, and, we've been having some serious discussions, some about the "l" word. You know which word I'm talking about, and, if you don't, you're an idiot who deserves to be alone. Idiot.

The word "love" is a simple word, really. It's four letters, one of which isn't pronounced, and, it has a universal meaning. The word is symbolic of a connection that exists deep within the people using the term towards each other. But it is also used to describe a general emotion of caring over a broad subject.

My examples of connections; I love my best friend Deb, I love my friend Glenn, I love my mom (even though sometimes she's a total bitch), I love my brothers, I love my dad, I loved my dog Spunky (when he was alive).

My examples of general emotions; I love nature, I love animals; therefore I hate roadkill, I love 70 degree summer days so that I can drive around with all the car windows down, I love farmer's markets and street fairs; I love the ambiance they create, I love music, I love movies.

But, there are other connections that this word implies.

For the first time in my life, I fell in love with Faye, who is now my ex. For the second time in my life, I fell in love with Melissa, my current ex. And for the third time in my life, I'm falling in love again, this time with my bf.

This kind of love is powerful, and, if it's right, will last a lifetime.

If it isn't, the people involved have a choice to make; they can be the best of friends or the worst of enemies.

In the past, I have chosen the latter. Those were choices I regret now, only because I realize that to make someone your enemy, you must hate them first. Hate consumes far too much energy, energy that I now realize I've wasted all those years.

I am now consciously working towards making an amends of sorts, deciding to choose to make friends instead of enemies. I'm realizing that my energy is far too precious to be wasted on something as silly as hate.

I am getting to the point that my bf is at now. He is friends with his ex-girlfriends. He chose to make friends and not enemies.

But that begs the question, does he still love them?

I believe the answer is yes. I believe this because he still cares for them as friends. It's important to him to build a friendship as well as a potential relationship with the women he dates, and, it makes sense. Couples who have been together for a long time tend to regard their partner as their best friend as well.

Does this make me jealous?

In the beginning, it did. Not raging jealous, but, I was nonetheless. Now, I've come to realize where it came from. It came from the fact that I want to be as close to him, if not closer than they are. The only way I'm going to do that is by taking time to know him, to let him teach me about himself, not by harboring hostile feelings towards people I've never met before; it's just silly.

This is more of a revelation than another step towards the concept of "maturity"; there are some "mature" people who are grossly immature when it comes to their realtionships. I feel it's an evolution of sorts; I don't think of myself as being better than everyone else in this sense, I just think it makes me a more secure human being.

So, do my bf and I love each other? Let me rephrase that question properly. Are we falling in love with each other?

Yes. We've told each other this.

So, have we told each other "I love you".

No. We've sorted this out as well.

You see, I don't want to throw that phrase around like a basketball in an elementary school yard during sunny days anymore. This time, I want it to count. I want it to have weight and meaning. I want it to be heavy enough to make him feel it, but not burden him. I want it to make him warm and feel safe, but not sheltered or feel burned.

Yet, there's one more thing.

We fell into each others laps, so to speak. This new beginning was a surprise for the both of us. But, surprises tend to have consequences, as does this surprise.

My bf had his eye on another woman before we started dating. I also had my eye on a woman as well (as you long-time readers know), but, I think that his feelings of attraction were (and probably still are) stronger than mine. He spoke to me about that several nights ago.

He told me that he wanted to take this other woman out on a couple of dates to see what her intentions are, and, whether his feelings for her are stronger than for me. I agreed that he should; I told him that I want him to make sure that he wanted to be with me and have no doubts about it. I would rather risk losing him as a lover and having him as a friend than have him harbor regret and bear it as resentment towards me.

In turn, he would be risking losing me as a lover and having me as a friend instead. Being friends with an ex is still a bit foreign to me, so, I don't think I'd be on speaking terms with him for a while. Coupled with the fact that I don't get back into relationships with my ex's, we'd end up being friends for the rest of our lives.

It's a gamble, I know, but, it's also worth the risk. What am I really doing after all? I'm risking one kind of love to either make sure it's real, or, to trade it in for a different kind. Either way, we both win.

Why am I doing this?

Because I was just as much of a surprise to him as he was to me. For accepting me so quickly into his life, I owe him this, if he wants to do it.

More importantly, I may find myself in his shoes one day. I would want him to extend the same courtesy to me as I did to him, and, take his offer if he took mine. I would want him to show me the same respect I showed him.

I might find myself in his place at some point. Then again, I might not.



Finally, to the lovely Vendela, you have to fuck and have sex before you make love. You're 10 years older than me, you should know this by now! You're killing me!

And now, we interrupt your regularly scheduled post to bring you.......this?

There are things that I should have done and things I should have waited to do, but, its done.

I sent my bf a link to my blog.

Before you all start moaning, groaning and rolling your eyes, I say this; my ex had a link to my old blog, and, I know damn well she reads this one. Give it up, girl! I know you do!

I've just read the email he sent me commenting on some of the things I wrote here.

I've read it several times over; as a matter of fact I still have it in a window I haven't closed yet as I type this. Why?

Because its the first time I've ever received a response that was coherent, and, its also a form of accountability. I've received feedback as a result of my input, scientifically speaking. I'm a black-and-white person, cut me some slack, okay?

Its forced me to think about what I've said, and, its asked for, however subliminally, an explanation of sorts.

But, then again, isn't that the risk I take by even having this blog out in the open in the first place?

Besides reinforcing my observation that he is detailed in his semantics, my bf's response posed a valid question, one that's taken me several hours to figure out the response to, because it involves that nasty gray area I've always tried to avoid.

I believe that it would have been answered in the post that I had been trying to put here earlier today, but, whats done is done. My answer comes now.

Yes, I've used the term "fuck" to describe what we do in bed, because quite honestly, it fit. I could not keep my hands off of him, and, I still have that feeling, although now I do keep my hands off (this detail has importance later). Fucking is raw and immediate; you want it now. Fucking is a result of a very strong and sudden biological reaction to someone within a certain proximity to you. The urge to fuck overrides logic and reason; you don't schedule fucking, you just fuck. My bf has even told me that I have a wild look in my eyes while he's pounding me. Doesn't sound very romantic, does it?

If you couldn't tell folks, yes, I have fucked people before.

What we do now is have sex. I feel that this is a much better description. It's just as urgent when you're pounding away at (or in my case, being pounded away in), but, you're established some sort of relationship with the person you're having sex with. You realize that you always can't run your hands all over the person, but, when you can, it's worth the wait. There are times when you taunt and tease them playfully, because you want to get to know what they like physically. You experiment with sex; ropes, handcuffs, "laundry lists" and such. Nibbling, biting, sucking, pulling, licking. These are things you associate with sex, not fucking. Sex takes some time and sometimes, some planning and scheduling, things you don't do with fucking.

Again, yes, I have had sex with people too.

But I have also made love to someone.

I'll try to explain what it is the best way I can.

Making love means....

That the orgasm isn't always the best part That you spend more time on the outside than being inside Even after the orgasm, you still want to touch and kiss and be there next to them and not pull away When you feel their body next to yours, something inside of you fills up, it doesn't just turn you on You fall asleep together as you lie naked You can make them come, but, you are fulfilled by the fact that you were able to touch them and make them come, you don't need an orgasm youself That sometimes, neither of you come at all Their kisses are sweeter then than at any other time You can never, ever get enough of the one who you're making love to Their touch can heal the deepest wounds of your soul Saying "I love you" and meaning it


That's what I consider to be making love. It's not everything, but, its what it means to me.

Its kinda like riding a bike, once you do it, you never really forget how or what it feels like.

Do I make sense here?

Blogger and EarthLink suck stinky, smelly, sweaty ass!

I've been trying to post for the past hour now and I lost my post altogether.

Assholes!

The good news, and, probably why the lines are tied up here in the Chicagoland area....

SB 3186 was passed by the IL Senate yesterday, and, just passed the House after noon today.

In IL, LGBT folk are now protected from gay hating bigots like those in the IFI and the CWA.

We are just now beginning to be treated equally. It's just a beginning. It will end when the concept of equality is truly present in every aspect of our lives.

But it begins......

Everything always needs a beginning.

I'll attempt to post again when I come home tonight, folks.

Later, gators!

SUMMONS FOR STANDBY JURY SERVICE

Well, ain't that just fuckin' dandy?

I hate this, I really do.

Not just because it's an inconvenience, but, because I've sat through a trial before. Two weeks of one, as a matter of fact.

I can't say who was involved, mostly because I can't remember, but, it was heartbreaking. The case was in a federal court, and, involved embezzlement of funds. It was father against son, a family torn apart by simple greed. Parents who turned against their child because their child turned against them.

The drama played out in court for all 14 jurors to see. the actual case itself played out over eight days, not ten. The first day was used for jury selection, and, the last was used for closing arguments and to dismiss the alternate jurors, of which I was one. It took the jury two days to deliberate and come back with a guilty verdict.

In 12 hours, 12 people decided the fate of an entire family.

I don't think that jurors really realize the depth of their given duty; I know that I didn't. I viewed it as an inconvenience, a trouble, a bother. I only thought of the pay I would lose because of my duty. The other jurors selected had obligations; they had their own businesses, were managers or bosses. They had appointments to keep, deals to make, vacations to spend with their kids.

Too bad for you!

There were people there who were my age, who had no obligations, no appointments, no deals. No jobs, no purpose, no function, nothing yet. They weren't chosen; we were.

Instead of looking at this as our duty as U.S. citizens, this was a bother, a problem, something to work around, things rescheduled.

Not for me, of course. This was a break for me, a vacation of sorts. A time for me to walk around the downtown, see the sights, one of which was the Olympic Flame running through the city (I missed it because it came down Michigan Avenue well past the end of my lunch time). I ate out several times while I was there, at the restaurant at Marshall Field's. Expensive, but, still a nice place to eat.

Not the Walnut Room of course; on my measly Blue Bitch hourly salary, I could not afford that. I even took some time to shop a bit, buying a bottle of perfume, which I actually still own. I don't use perfume very often, no need to.

Anyway, recounting it now, I see things differently. Perhaps wisdom, time and experience have made me more appreciative of what jury duty really is. 12 people sit in a room for a bit of time and decide the fate of not only one person, but, of every person they know and love, and who in turn love them.

It's not just a bother or a problem, it's our job, our duty as Americans. And it's someone else's life who we are judging.

It's not quite tomorrow.....

I know, this comes the day after. Raspberry to you!

I'm a day late, I know. But, perhaps you'll forgive me when you find out why.

I was at a wake last night. Not for anyone in my family, mind you, but, one for my friends D's grandmother. She had just turned 97 Christmas Eve and passed away New Year's Day.

What a way to begin the new year. I could only hope to live that long.

I was only there for an hour, but, it was good to see D and her gf. I had to postpone plans with my bf, but, he understood. The evening's fun, however, was about to begin.

It had just begun snowing when I left the funeral home. I got to the funeral home in about 40 minutes, which included about 5 minutes of being lost.

It took me an hour and a half to get home. I could go no faster than 50 mph in the right hand lane on I-90 because of all snow, combined with the fact that I was driving a very light car that kept hydroplaning. Scared the shit out of me. My heart was pounding the whole way back.

I got fed up and got off on Arlington Heights Rd and took the streets home. They were worse than 90, but, I felt safer on those streets than dealing with the idiots with SUVs and MiniVans flying past me at 65 and 70 mph. Apparently those dumbasses still haven't figured out that just because its bigger doesn't mean its better.

I got home, changed clothes and had to deal with no heat. My landlord was here until midnight trying to fix the boiler in the basement. It finally works now.

I finally went to bed around the time my landlord left last night. I went to work tired and down. I don't handle death very well. I know nobody does, but, even if it's not someone from my family, I still feel I carry it around for a while. It was good to know that I could text my bf for the time I was there. I really wanted to call him, but, he had to be at his store early today, so, he needed his sleep.

He really is a sweetheart. The funny thing is, I never thought that I would ever say that about a man. I guess this small discovery is all part of the fun.

Before I end this, there is one last thing I must write.

Yesterday, the lovely Connie left a very touching comment to my post. I've always kept track of her site, sometimes visiting twice a week or so, leaving a comment here and there. When I visited her site today, I noticed something different; she added my blog to her site.

'Holy shit!', I thought, 'This woman is going through breast reduction surgery to help prevent getting breast cancer, and, she added my blog to her blogroll.'

Wow.

The least I can do is reciprocate the favor.

God Bless, Goddess. You'll be in my thoughts. I'll be visiting a church tomorrow, and, will say a prayer for you.

Its the least I can do.

Yeah, yeah...I've been busy, really.

Yes, I know this is my first post in almost a week. Eat me.

Yes, I've been working and celebrating and having sex and communicating and thinking and now.....I am officially a "girlfriend" and I officially have a "boyfriend".

My bf has "officially" met my mom, and, I am currently scheduled to "officially" meet my bf's parents.

Yet, this is all still a little weird to me.

I always thought that when I became a PLTS lesbo, it would steel me against the romantic interests of men. I assumed that it would shield me from men being physically attracted to me, and, in turn, prevent me from being physically attracted to them.

Over the years, I have found this assumption to be grossly incorrect. That's an understatement, actually. It was just stupid.

I realize now that the reason why I avoided this path and shrouded myself in ignorant assumptions is because I was scared. I was scared because I did not know how to handle such a situation, and, quite honestly, I still don't know how to handle it.

So, I guess that leads to the question; why have I put myself in this position here and now?

Because I can.

It's a simple answer, yet not so simple.

Just because I have a knife set in my kitchen doesn't mean I take it to work and kill the customers who piss me off (however much I would like to). I deal with some stupid fucking people everyday. If it's not "normal" stupidity, such as immediately forgetting the alphabet when they walk through our front door, then it's stupidity as a result of being drunk, stoned or both.

I can, therefore I choose to. No, it's the other way around; I choose to therefore I can. See the difference?

There is power in choice, but, there is also risk. In my instance, there is the risk of the heart and mind and unfortunately, pregnancy. But the most striking risk is the risk of identity. In my realm of the sexual spectrum, what I am also makes up who I am. That concept of "what" involves who I fuck/love.

Right now, I am attracted to, dating, fucking and hoping to have a long term relationship with a man. As I continue on this path, the questions I posed earlier give little assistance now.

Now this begs the question, am I bi, or, a lesbian dating a guy?

Would I ever give up women?

Would I ever give up men?

Aren't I already "giving up" women to be with a man? Wasn't I already "giving up" men to be with women?

What's even more puzzling is that I am more worried about a label than I am about getting knocked up. That's another post, for sure.

I do know this much; my bf has some unique quality that attracted me to him so strongly that I was able to ignore my ignorance and insecurities to take the step of getting involved with him in the first place. That alone says to me that there is something special about him, and possibly about us.

As for the label, if you must insist, well, hmmm. I guess that I am a lesbian dating a guy right now. My attraction to women certainly hasn't gone away, and, I highly doubt it ever will.

This post went in a totally different direction than I planned, so, I'll end it here for now. I'll be back tomorrow for sure.