Gay Cake, who knew?

I can usually let things be but usually is such a tricky word. This story of the couple who owned a bakery in Oregon and refused to make a cake for a lesbian wedding is pissing me off. They are trying to blame it on standing up for their religious freedom. That is a bunch of horse shit. Let me give you a synopsis:

A woman and her Mother enter said cake place owned by Melissa and Aaron Klein. While speaking with Mr. Klein about their needs for the upcoming lesbian wedding, he stops them and says “you are abominations unto the Lord” and refuses them service. They leave the shop and the Mom of the bride to be is angry and storms back in saying she is going to file a discrimination complaint. In all of Aaron Klein’s infinite wisdom he boasts “I’d rather have my kids see their dad stand up for what he believes in than to see him bow down because one person complained.”

And now sir, your children get to watch you close the doors of your business because discrimination is illegal. There is nothing less or more to this case. I want to spell the word discrimination very slowly and then hand them a dictionary. I applaud this couples passion and dedication to their Religion but they opened a business that serves the public. They denied the service to a woman based on her sexual orientation. That is discrimination and it is illegal as of 2007 in Oregon. If they wanted to only provide a service to certain types of people they should have stuck with the local bake sale at Church.

When I first read this story I simply shook my head and said “idiots” and went on about my business. Then people went on and on about how unfair it was and poor gay people and woe is me religious whiners started crawling out of the wood work. Oddly enough “woe unto me” is in their right. “Job 10:15: If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction.” Did you know that was written over 3,200 years ago? Yeah, neither did I.

Anyway, I would like to give the Klein’s my professional legal opinion. If you would have simply told the lady “look, your Mom is a pain in the ass and I don’t feel like dealing with her” everything would be fine. There is no law for refusing service to pain in the asses. If so, I would have been sued a hundred times. If the lesbian’s owned a pie shop and refused service to those who “serve the Lord” if they would think it’s discrimination? I honestly believe that if I am in the left turn only lane I shouldn’t have to use my blinker. It’s pretty safe to assume I will be going left but the law says I have to use the annoying thing, so I do. It really goes against my better judgment.

Yeah, yeah I know. People all over are saying it. Why didn’t they take their business elsewhere and forget about it? Because we are sick of hiding, sweeping things under a rug and getting treated like a lesser human being. This is exactly how to get stuff taken care of. I will admit I am ashamed of the way people treated the Klein’s. One does not intimidate and threaten harm against another, their family and especially children. That is not how to get things done.

What if Rosa Parks had just given up her seat and forgot about it? No! When you are beat down, tired and sick of injustice it’s time to stand up for what is right. It’s not about marriage, it’s about equality. That’s eee-kwal-it-tee for you slower people. Mrs. Klein was quoted saying “what if my children saw them kiss? I have known gays and have had gay friends.” Holy shit Melissa, can you imagine if your kids saw two people in love? How awful would that be? You lady, are teaching your children discrimination and hate. Geez!

I read one headline “Oregon couple refuses to make gay cake.” Hmm, how does one make a gay cake? Oh wait I know, bake the shit out of it. Either way, it’s still just a cake. Something similar to a gay wedding, it’s still simply a wedding. According to Mr. Brainiac at the bakery it is a “religious institution ordained by God,” Klein is quoted as saying. “A man should leave his mother and father and cling to his wife … that to me is the beginning of marriage.” Well shit, if I bet he had them lined up on his parents front lawn waiting. I want to make t-shirts and koozies for him with the saying, “Keep Calm and Cling On.”

I also like “Ore. Bakery says no to same-sex wedding cake.” I have visions of the Pillsbury dough boy standing in a doorway screaming at a cake dressed in drag and lace. “No cake, no, no, no!”

I know, I sit here and make jokes but truthfully I am thankful people are standing up. I am tired of not being able to hold someone’s hand or having to sneak in a kiss. It gets to be so difficult to act a certain way. I only know how to be me and I shouldn’t have to hide that. I also believe people should be able to stand up for their beliefs, but not at the expense of dehumanizing others.
With all of this off my chest now, I am really glad I don’t like cake, neither hetro cakes nor gay cake.

Peace.

Just Americans

I am sure most of you who are reading this read my thoughts on gay marriage.

It’s Just Love

Apparently those words lit a fire under my ass because now it’s consuming my thoughts and in a displeasing way. (Don’t worry, I am not going to storm The Supreme Court wrapped in a gay flag or anything.) That’s what hate and ignorance does to me. I have no doubt I will see it become legal before I die of old age. This alone isn’t enough for me now. I read an article about a man who was arrested for refusing to leave the side of his dying husband. This saddens me to no end. I can assure you if I had a wife you would have to arrest me too.

I can’t believe the best line all of the anti-gay marriage people can come up with is that “gay people are trying to redefine marriage.” Really, that is the best argument you have? I am pretty sure heterosexuals have beaten us to the punch. Shit, you get to simply live with one another and have the same rights as the license gives you. I use to think civil unions being recognized should be enough until I realized there is nothing defining equality in that little cop out.

We are not redefining anything. Look at the fight African Americans had to go through to be considered equal. It is the same with us. Simply because you pass a law we have a much bigger battle after that. I just heard the “N word” a week ago. Remember the guys in pointy hats and robes hurting interracial couples? Isn’t it ironic those hats remind me of a dunce in a corner? Ignorance doesn’t go away with a law, with a definition or with a piece of paper. It goes away when people change their thinking and make a conscience decision to stop the circle of hate.

Women did not want to redefine voting when they were not considered equal. That girl, Rosa Parks did not want to redefine sitting on a bus. Gloria Steinem inspired women to burn their bras in the early 1960’s, not redefine equality. How do you redefine equivalence? Any word you put to it, parity, fairness, likeness, impartiality, equal opportunity, egalitarianism or whatever word you choose, the definition remains the same.
I am pissed at all of you who harbor resentment or ill feeling towards anyone, gay, straight, black, white, latino, Asian or what the hell ever. That doesn’t define an individual. Take the word hate out of your vocabulary. I don’t want to hear that other cop out of “There is white trash in white people, the N word in African Americans, wetbacks in Latinos, etc.. That’s some crap. There is good and bad in humans, despite race, religion, color or sexual preference. You can go ahead and take out that word preference too. It’s not that we prefer it; it’s the way we are. Do you prefer who you love, of course not, it’s who you are. Geez people, get some sense in your heads. I don’t give a damned if its common sense or uncommon sense, any sense will work.

I had a man tell me one day “You know what your problem is Nikki? You just need some dick, that will get rid of the being gay problem.” Without missing a beat I said “Do you just need some dick to show you that’s what you really like and are simply repressing a deeper urge inside you?” He didn’t say much to that and I walked away. If you can’t put yourself in someone’s shoes then maybe you shouldn’t walk. Throughout the years I have had many horrible things said and done to me. I would have gladly chose to be heterosexual, but I am not, so I choose to be Nikki, not gay, not straight, not white, not black not anything…Just Nikki and I happen to be in love with a woman.

I can make every legal document so my partner doesn’t have to fight to keep our stuff. I can do health care directives, financial statements, living wills, living trusts, heir affidavits, power of attorney documents and many more but you know what? I shouldn’t have to. End of story!

Peace.

On a side note, perhaps we have been going about this all wrong. Maybe we should wrap ourselves in a flag and storm The Supreme Court, an American flag that is, because after all, no-one can argue we aren’t Americans.

Oh Hell, Canned Tuna

Kindness and acceptance are becoming words instead of actions. I know I talk a lot of trash and some may have the wrong perception of me but I am real as the day is long. When I write I never know where it will end up. I only post about fifty percent of what I devise. Recently, the comments on my words have been heartfelt and make me all giddy. Of course then there are THOSE people who feel the need to let you know how miserable their life is.

If I approve an individual on my blog their comments post right away, if it is a stranger or someone signing up for the first time I receive an email. I then have to weed through them and approve them. I get other comments via text, Facebook and various types of messengers.

Unfortunately not everyone gets to read them, except me of course. I don’t see all of them because of different spam filters on either the blog or email. If you are ever unhappy that a person has found peace, kindness and acceptance in their life; stay away from me and my blog. I do not understand how a person would be angry about another person’s happiness unless you are miserable in your own shoes. Actually, just go away and take your butt cut hair do with you.

Here is one from a loyal reader. She shows up quite often and until now I have never commented.

Hater: You are going to hell for being gay. Love is between a man and a woman only.
Me: Do you eat bacon?
Hater: Yes
Me: See you in hell. Leviticus 11:8, which is discussing pigs, reads “You shall not eat of their flesh nor touch their carcasses; they are unclean to you.”
Hater: That is ridiculous and not true.
Me: No, really?

She never commented again. I don’t like to entertain the ignorant but I just can’t quite grasp why she reads my blog. It is so gay and the image she has on her profile is the worst hair cut ever, butt-cut. Which by the way will get you going on your path to hell also. Leviticus 19:27 reads “You shall not round off the side-growth of your heads nor harm the edges of your beard.” I wonder if she shaves her beard? Hmm.

Here is my take on the entire matter. I don’t give a rat’s ass if she thinks I am going to hell. More than likely this is what she has been taught and the poor thing doesn’t know any better. I am happy she is continuously reading my blog. She might pick up piece of kindness and share it. Who knows, crazier things have happened.

If I can remember properly, without wasting Google’s time, I believe there are roughly 31,000 Bible verses. Correct me if I am wrong but only seven or so briefly mention ‘the homosexuals’? I can recall many, and I do mean many, verses on how Christians should behave. I will go out on a limb here and say “huge, huge epic fail sinners.” Where is the fairness, love, equality and good God don’t forget about rejection of legalism over compassion?

I am not nor have I been a religious person, I am spiritual and I believe in karma. I grew up in a Lutheran environment, always respected religion until they kicked me out of Sunday school for questioning where the dinosaurs were in all of the stories. That was a Catholic church though. Let’s just face it, in any religion I am going to hell according to some. I know I am not, my heart is kind and I believe in overall goodness.

Oh and by the way don’t correct me if I am wrong about how many bible verses there are. I really don’t give a shit. I was just being polite.

Now I am preaching to the choir and need to shut up. I have been in an unusually more than smart ass mood the past couple of days. A lady at the grocery store told me she liked my hair yesterday. I said “thanks, I grew it myself.” She laughed and I smiled and said “really, thank you.” Sometimes, even if it is a genuine compliment I get a little uneasy. I really kind of go into an awkward moment of wanting to do something like this:

Lady: I like your hair.
Me: Here, hold this can of tuna.
Lady: No, I said I like your hair.
Me: It’s on sale.

And then I walk away. It’s just my imagination at work. I really do know how to say thank you but it is so incredibly boring; which is how I view biased opinions based on a book.

Anyway, I get uncomfortable around people who think I am going to hell too. If bible verses and accusations of being in a dungeon somewhere down in the earth’s lithosphere are thrown in my face it makes one a bit edgy. You can promote your love for whatever you believe in at any time; just don’t convey my ass into it. I might just throw a can of tuna at you.

Peace.

Dear God, It’s me and I am Gay.

I once read that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand and the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is when SHE brushes up against me and puts her arms around me.
And there are no words for that…

When I was approximately 14 years of age my Mother and Step-father took me to my favorite Mexican restaurant. I was in the middle of a bite of deliciousness when my Mom softly whispers “we believe you are having homosexual tendencies.”

I spit out my food and stared at the two of them. She may as well have been on stage with a microphone and holding a huge spot light on me. It felt like the entire restaurant came to a halt and all eyes were on me. In my mind you could have heard a pin drop in that establishment. “We know you have been kissing girls” is what I heard “and you are going to hell.”

“Umm…well…uh, I think you are wrong! NO” is what I believe I said while viciously shaking my head back and forth.
The 14 years of knowledge I had was far vaster than these two who’s combined age was like 88. The reason they took me to the restaurant was because I would run like hell from anything uncomfortable. Literally, out the front door and down the street not to be seen for hours was my method of operating. I suppose this is still my modus operandi but at least I am aware of it now. Simply because he was a social worker and she worked with emotionally challenged individuals, what the hell did they know? Who cares if I had a girlfriend and the majority of my friends were all gay? These two were just plain stupid. I was not going to be one of those homosexual people made fun of. I was not going to be referred as a “dyke, lesbo, lezzy, queer, carpet muncher, fruitcake” and my favorite “crack snacker.” Of course I could pull a “Vagina Monologue” here and make a list for days but you get the idea. It’s not that I wasn’t gay; I just didn’t want to be.

So, long story short. I fought it, lied, made myself miserable and acted out in the face of all of the love and support most people long for from family and friends. Somehow, despite the understanding and acceptance I had, I was determined it was wrong. I was a latent homosexual I guess. I suppressed and repressed on a conscious level. At the age of 24 is when I finally accepted myself after NUMEROUS relationships.

I didn’t drape myself in a rainbow flag and run through the streets screaming “I am here, I am queer and I am here to stay.” I simply stopped lying to others and more importantly, myself.

I make an effort to never tell someone unless point blank asked. This only seems to arouse curiosity in others, especially men. I get the “oh, can I watch?” and “you just haven’t had the right man” crap all of the time. Some of the women on the other hand just freak me the fuck out. I had one who just didn’t get that if she was a woman and I liked women then I should automatically like her. Uh..NO! That is not how I roll. I am sure if you like woman and like men, you don’t automatically like EVERY man. Ugh, why do I have to explain this? Get some self-confidence people! Just saying…

AND this is going to be so shallow and rude but I am going to say it anyway. YOU, the lady who was expressing the longing for a lesbian experience while your husband was away, I am not the one! When you took off that sweater thing you were wearing to show off what you were working with, well, you looked like a tube of biscuits that were just opened by smacking it on the counter. Corsets should be worn in certain places and I despise a cheater.

Sorry, I know that was bad but I needed to get it off my chest.

A woman I dated back in the day had a horrible accident and is brain damaged. I am not sure what her mentality level is now but from what I can tell it is about at the age of 12 or 13. Her Father loves her unconditionally and believes religion is the cure for homosexuality. Even though she remembers hardly anything from her past she is still gay despite her Fathers attempts on finding that cure. When we dated 100 years ago he told me San Francisco had earth quakes because it was the God’s way of getting rid of all of the queers. One day there was going to be a big one and all of the gay people would be stuck out on an island to die of AIDS. I didn’t want to point out that the earth’s plates moving in opposite directions of each other might impose a great amount of pressure imposing lithosphere. I was afraid if I did so my lithosphere would break because this is what happens when the pressure is too great. I didn’t want to blow up (ha) in front of this man who called himself a “Christian.” I did want to ask him if a little fairy would be picking me up prior to this natural disaster since I don’t live there and I am queer and gay.

I just let the ignorance flow like lava.

Another recent honorable mention needs to be called out here. I was at work. I walked up to a woman and said “What are you having to drink?” you know, because that is what I get paid to do.

“I’m not gay but my girlfriend is.”

“Cool, but what does that have to do with beer?” is what I said as another person next to her begins to apologize to me for her.

I stand there for a bit and realize there is a deeper issue here. The lady was serious. I thought she was referring to that t-shirt I have seen in the past. In her drunken state that mind is just spinning and fighting her inhibitions. The woman is not accepting herself. Constant battle within her and all I want to do is give her a damn beer and go back to my conversation with my self confident friend at the other end of the bar. He has become one of my favorite people and was telling me a story about driving BMW’s. This is much more of what I want to talk about instead of feeling sorry for that poor woman and her girlfriend. In my two minute encounter with them I can see the “gay” one loves this woman unconditionally and the “not gay” one is in it because it happened and now she feels trapped despite the decade they have been sharing the same sheets. Whatever! Get on board lady or get off the train.

Sorry again for being rude but I just needed to let out some steam.

I am so way off subject here. This story was supposed to be about funny recent encounters with people. I can’t begin to tell you how fortunate I am to have the love, support and acceptance I do. I prefer to hang out with “straight” people because I have a low tolerance for drama. Not that there is not drama in the heterosexual world but it is usually lower or just the people I surround myself with. Lesbians tend to date one another just because there is someone there. I want the full meal deal; super size it if you will. I don’t settle because I have been that dumb ass in the past. The next time I do it, I am doing it right. I will not waste my time or another ever again! Ever!!

I am usually the only gay person in a group. Most of my friends only know one gay person. (That would be me for you slower people.)

I don’t know what my whole point to this is but let me point out this business.

1. Thank you for loving me as an individual.

2. When around gay people or in a gay bar you do not need to pretend to be gay. We don’t care who you are. Just be your SELF! There are enough of us. Breed on; our tax dollars will assist you.

3. A true person, gay or straight, is not into converting people. We do not get a door prize. No free toaster or even a tax break. This holds true for you jack asses who don’t think I have had the right man because I know some amazing men.

4. I understand some of people’s hatred comes from their environment or upbringing. I am sad for you. Only you have the ability to change this. Stop the circle of hate and start right this damned second. Teach your children love and acceptance so they will be in a better place than what we had to grow up with. If you are a hater, please know it is a sign of weakness.

Shit, this did turn into a sermon. Sorry again!

In closing I would like people to ponder something:

What if a gay person did not have sex? Would they still be gay?

The answer is yes. I can assure you one thing; if I could get the same mushy, weak in the knees, passion throughout my soul with a man I would. It has never happened. It’s the same feeling anyone gets when love enters your being, mine just happens to be with the same sex. It is not a choice. I am not going to be someone else or not love simply because hate exists out there in this world.

Peace!

“Be kind and expect the same.”

Vagina Maintenance

Years ago, I had to visit the doctor because my period had been non-existent making me seriously contemplate crawling in a cave and hibernating. Since I do not care for bats in dark holes and being awake provides all manners of unexpected fun, I chose the doctor route.

“Okay,” the doctor said “say ah, now take a deep breath and now another. Follow my pen with your eyes. No, Ms. Olsen, just your eyes don’t move your head. Stick your tongue out, Hmm, okay, lift your left arm and twist slightly to the left. Now move your left arm.”

Alrighty, let me know if this hurts?” as she pushes on my abdomen.

“Ouch, Jesus, let’s just play twister and get it over with” I groan.

“Go ahead and get undressed, put this gown on and I will be right back” she says completely ignoring my groaning.

Given my modesty and fear of having all of my business up in the air I grumble as I put the so called gown on. But hell, a girl has to do these necessary maintenance checks. It was obvious there was a check engine light on, perhaps even flashing.

The doctor comes back and starts the exam. “Hmm okay, relax.”

Yeah easy for her to say, she isn’t in stirrups with her vagina all out in the open. She pokes, prods and uses tools I never want to see again. She and the nurse are making small talk about my cervix and shit. I want to wave my hands in the air to remind them I am not just some box.

As she is finishing up she says “hmm, I am stumped. I just have nothing to hang my hat on.”
My eyes open wide and I say “well, I sure in the hell hope not.”

She was not amused. “Let’s get some urine.”

The nurse gave me the empty fruit cup looking thing and I went to the restroom. Now, not many people know this, but unfortunately I have peed in many of cups for a variety of reasons. Just for the record, none of them were court ordered. For someone who “don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies,” I’ve peed in more cups than Lindsey Lohan.

I’ve perfected the art of aiming without having to look. We don’t have the luxury of sticking a stick in a cup and peeing with no mess. It’s a totally different ball game when you’re dealing with the vertical smile.

We have to strategically position the cup so that the wayward stream hits the side and runs down or we could be looking at a messy spasm chasm. Do not even think about hitting the middle of that cup or it becomes a pissy splatter. Now fuse this with the hovering technique because sitting down is not an option. Doing so would result in the cup becoming a bobber or your hand hitting the water.

Remember, I have just been in stirrups with ground zero all up in the air and now I am on a public toilet. If my hand hits that water or seat just call in the prosthesis team because I am cutting the fucker off.

I shuffle in the bathroom holding my gown carefully as to not moon the nurse. I don’t know why it matters; she has already seen my vagina. I assume the squatting position and put the plastic contraption in the line of fire at a tilt and think of water. I begin to let it flow gradually and what in the hell, my hand is warm. Holy crap, I clenched to prohibit the stream and shivered that urine was on my hand and repositioned the apparatus.

No need to think of a waterfall again, it’s ready to go. I proceed with caution.

Shit, shit, shit there is more warmth on my hand. It is not stopping despite every Kegel repetition I attempt. Can my urethra be kinked or did it change its downward and forward direction? Is this even possible, ugh?

Now there is piss everywhere and I can’t sit down to inspect what is going on since I contaminated the entire bathroom. I am now in a yoga position never seen before in an attempt to avoid peeing on my legs and little hospital slippers. I finally pull the cup away from my best twister/yoga position. Surely some of the urine made it in there and it will be enough for the vagina inspectors.

Well, yeah there may have been some piss in the cup if I would have taken the damned lid off.

To make matters even better the label on top with my patient number is disgustingly sodden and smeared. I throw it all in the trash and start the hot water. I go back and forth between soap, hand sanitizer and killed a tree with the amount of paper towels I used to clean me and the bathroom.

I opened the door and almost forgot about the damned gown until I saw MY nurse walking with another patient. I simply stared at her with my back to the door. She looked down at my hand and noticed it was empty. I shrugged and said “I need another fruit cup.”

“What happened?”

“Is a story really necessary?”

“No, I suppose not, I’ll be right back, you can wait in your patient room.”

As I sit there waiting, I look over at my clothes folded neatly with underwear and bra hidden underneath. A knock happens and she walks in with a new cup and I grin and say “I don’t know why I hide my under garments from you, it’s not like you didn’t just see all my holiest of holes.”

Her eyes widened and she said “now that is a new one and I wish more people would hide their garments especially the under ones.”

I giggled and went off to think about water.

Peace! Be kind and expect the same.

Jackass Whisperer

One of my fellow readers posted this “You eloquently stated what has been in my head for a long time. Thank you for inviting me to share in your healthy euphoric logical crazy world!”

What a perfect compliment. I especially like the statement “your healthy euphoric crazy world.” My world is strong, beneficial, exciting, blissful, joyous, outrageous, peculiar, outlandish and all in a wholesome way. I work hard at this.

I have been noticing a behavior in some folks which will keep you walking still in life. For the love of God, Baby Jesus, Buddha, the Universe, the planets alignment or whatever your faith is; PLEASE stop bringing your past experiences into your current relationship. Go ahead and break up now and save the time wasted because you are not giving the current situation a chance in hell.

Who in the fuck cares if your ex said this or that? What does that have to do with now? You might as well carry some roll on luggage filled with your past partner with you. If you carry the negative experiences and sayings to your current exciting opportunity, it is dead in the water.

The biggest turn off in life is insecurity. No soul or person in this world is responsible for making you feel a certain way except you. I mean I can tell you if you have a piece of spinach in your teeth and that is making you unattractive but I have no control over a person’s emotional well-being. That’s yours and if you are looking for someone to make you feel better about yourself then you are looking in the wrong places. Go directly to the nearest bathroom and look at that shiny thing on the wall. It’s called a mirror. Those negative things or actions some douche bag did to you in your past made you. Unfortunately some of those horrid hateful acts created the beautiful you. Don’t just pretend they didn’t happen or try and forget them. Get to know them, embrace it, feel the pain, grieve and in time you will have a certain glow. Oh hell, don’t think it’s easy or it will happen overnight but I promise in time the glow will become a radiant like sunshine in your eyes, posture and aura.

Today I had a man say to me “Hey, I haven’t seen you in forever. Are you still gay?” My first reaction was to rip this guy a new three bedroom, two bath, double wide asshole. Instead, I just looked at him and said “I guess I don’t have to ask you if you are still ignorant.” It went right over his head because his response was “huh?”

I decided in the last year or so I am not the jack ass whisperer so I put the negative asses in my life out to pasture. Back in the day that comment above by Mr. Brilliant would have offended me. I use to have an answer to people’s problems and would take those on. Do you have any clue how heavy other individual’s baggage is? I can’t believe I don’t have serious back problems. It was so freeing to drop their shit and take care of myself. The quality of people in my life got better as well.

I have to continue to remind myself of these things daily. I also must take it easy on myself a little more.

I believe in love and hope and jamming out by myself in the car and singing at the top of my lungs. Oh and trust me, you never want to hear me sing. I am horrible but Sandido never minds. I believe in having someone tell me I am beautiful. I want to dance in the rain and believe in miracles. I rely on smiling until your cheeks hurt, your stomach burns and laughing until you cry.

Compromise is the key to any relationship. I believe that with all of my heart. You don’t have to love everything you do together. It’s about being together and enjoying your person even if the activity isn’t one of your favorites. Open your mind and heart. You just might find something new in your life you didn’t know you enjoyed. Stop being set in your ways, it’s ugly.

Another load I took off my back and vocabulary is hate. I can’t imagine the people who carry those loads. I do not hate anyone or anything. I do dislike some people and certain things, hell I even don’t care for certain objects or folks. But seriously, hate is such a strong emotion. It’s hard enough for me to love, I don’t have the capability to hate. That might not make much sense to some but I truly believe there is a fine line between love and hate. It’s that broken heart thing. It’s such an overwhelming and consuming feeling. The only time I can say I hated anything was when my heart was broken. It took me so long to mend that broken heart and forgive but honestly it was easier when I stopped hating. People who hate are mean and ignorant.

I have been accused of having every walk of life for friends. I will say they are a diverse crowd but I do my best to see the good in every individual. I believe whole heartedly if I radiate loving energy it will uplift the people around me. Yes, it comes across in a smart ass form but that’s how I roll. I was burned badly by someone who I trusted and sold me out to be entertaining amongst friends. Everyone told me she was crazy but it’s not true. She has a good heart, it’s just been hurt and she will not deal with it in a healthy manner. Despite the deceit and betrayal I am happy to say I send her love and good vibes in hopes she will one day be able to maintain good energy and turn that into a steady flow of respectable love.

That’s your sermon for the day. Drop one negative aspect in your life like it’s hot and start to notice the change. Dare ya…

Peace out suckas!
Yours truly,
The Jackass Whisperer!

Peace within ME!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I haven’t written. When I sit down with a good writing mind a few words spill out on the page and before I know it I am snoring with my lap top as a pillow. I am more tired than usual lately and my hours are scattered. No matter how hard I try I can’t stay with a thought long enough to expand on it. Generally when this happens to me it is a reminder I need to take the time to find my center.

For more than a week now I have taken more time than usual to spend with myself. I know some people don’t know what that means but I am my favorite person and thoroughly enjoy my ME time. It gives me the opportunity to take a step back and understand myself a little more.

I try extremely hard to not criticize or complain. Of course this is easier said than done but in the overall picture of things it also depends on who you are spending your time with. I have a problem with confrontation. I tend to avoid it like a fat kid shies away from raw vegetables. It is difficult for me to watch people make bad decisions and display destructive behavior. I was actually confronting people when I witnessed their negativity and overall ridiculous choices.

Thankfully I am learning to physically talk to people rather than running away or hiding behind text messages. Communication needs to be done in person with an open mind if you want your end result to be a positive resolution. It took me tens of thousands of dollars and therapy to figure that one out. I can be just a tad hard headed sometimes. At least I know it now and use it, sometimes. 

Now that I stepped away from these people I am back to myself. It took me a million years to understand I am not responsible for other people’s behavior and I can’t fix everything. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking in the last month but oh what a relief it is now that I put myself back in charge of the only person I am responsible for, ME!

Their negative energy and my nose being in other people’s business were draining my well-being. Despite the fact I had good intentions and simply wanted the best for them it wasn’t mine. I look back at it and shake my head. If it were physically possible I would kick myself in the ass but I am afraid that action would land me flat on the ground and that is so not good for these ribs. Not to mention I would look like a yoga exerciser on crack.

This morning I woke to my Chi-weenie staring me down. Sandido loves to burrow himself between my arm and body with his head resting on my shoulder. I grumbled a little bit but then smiled. When I smiled I felt his tail wag. I thought this was funny so I decided to test something. I stayed absolutely silent with my eyes closed and would do different expressions. When I acted sad and frowned he nudged himself closer to me as if he wanted to comfort me. If I smiled his tail would wag at first until he was in a full blown body wag. Then I completely relaxed my body and pretended to be asleep. Immediately he breathed a little sigh and his body went limp with content.

This little experiment made me realize how contagious a person’s energy can be. I understand my little man is more in sync with me than any human but that’s my fault. I tend not to let anyone in that close. It’s time to take a few of those cinder blocks out of my wall and at least share some of my positive calming energy.

Thankfully, I was able to step back away from the negativity and be true to myself even if it did cost me a friendship. Trifling people aren’t true friends anyway. I will now work on being more compassionate, accept my flaws because I am human and live right here, right now, in this moment. Apparently I forgot I had enough on my own plate when I attempted to take on others dysfunction. Ahhh, big sigh.

Have a beautiful week. I am going to enjoy my two passions, writing and cooking.
Peace out suckas!

Beyonce

More MYSpace blogs:
This time I am putting the disclaimer in the beginning. I will start with a definition.
fic•tion: (fkshn)n.

a. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.
In the event I am asked who Beyonce, Fern, Jamie or Rachel is, you will get this noun for an answer.

“Just tell me who you have this crush on damn-it” I say as I look at her with this smirk on my face because I want her to say it.

She looks back at me with her head tilted sideways like I should offer the information for her.

“Come on let’s just go for 10 minutes” she says with a pouty face.

“Don’t look at me like that” I said plunking down on the chair, picking up the copy of Dirt Wheels. “Been there, done that. Not doing it again no way.”

“It’s easy, we just show up at the bar,” she said. “We know exactly where to find her.”
“Uh uh, there’s no ‘we’ gonna happen. You’re on your own. I’m not freezing my sweet ass off driving over there and sitting in some bone orchard they call a bar all night, waiting for this bitch to show up.”

“Come on Nik, PLEASE” she begs. “Did I tell you your jeans look hot on you?”
“NO!” I reply with a smile on my face.

I know I am going so I plan on milking this.

“When were you thinking of going, I am craving sushi” I casually mention.

“But uh…um she will be there early and if you go eat first we might miss her and then…”

“Ok fine, but I am not driving and you are not getting drunk” I rudely interrupt.

“Really, YAY!! Okay I am going to get ready, I love you, thank you, you’re great” she says as she runs towards the bathroom.

“And we are still going to have sushi and you are buying” I yell at her.

An hour and ten minutes later we are on our way to the bar. I don’t even like this place and I am hungry. The entire 20 minute trip is filled with, her this, her that and what if she looks at me, what will I say? Should I try and talk to her, etc.

I sit there unusually quiet as we park. We walk in the bar and I head immediately to the bar to get a beer.

Behind me I hear her say “There she is” as I take a drink of my beer.

I look to my right and there stood a woman holding her Long Island Tea, dressed in her black fur boots, bright red tights, and matching spandex mini skirt, topped with a rhinestone shocking-leather jacket. She must be related to Mr. T by the looks of her jewelry.

I spit my beer and look at Fern and say “REALLY?” She looks at me and I swear there are little hearts for pupils in her eyes.

Oh goodness, this woman was enough to make the strongest of drag queens faint. I am in complete awe!

“Yep, uh huh it’s her, what do you think?” she says never looking at me.

“What do I think? Uh, I think I have to go to the bathroom” as I head the other way.

I come back to find the two of them talking and there is someone standing behind Beyonce. As I walk up I hear “Yeah she is single but not in the dating mood.” I clear my throat and all six eyes are on me.
Fern quickly says “They want to go eat sushi, don’t you think that is a good idea?”

Are you fucking kidding me is what was about to come out of my mouth. I remain quietly thinking this should be a fantastic time. Whoopeeeee I can’t wait! Hurry let’s finish our drinks and run out the door.

“Awe, how nice, what a great idea.” I glare at Fern. I can hardly contain my excitement. I don’t know what is wrong with me other than I am anti-women, anti-dating and have been in a bad mood for a few months.

We walk in to a nice quiet restaurant. It is decorated with pleasant warm earth tones with slightly darker furniture. The flowers on the tables look as if they are cut fresh daily. The ambiance is perfect and inviting. A fish tank bubbles in the distance. I am intrigued by the fish. I wonder if they are nervous.

“Good eve-ring you need table?” A little Asian man says “How many?”
Well how many do we look like? I think to myself.

“Yes four please” I actually say.

Beyonce looks like she is going to be ill when our food is delivered. At this moment she decides to ask what sushi is. I choose this instant to grab what I want to eat in the event she vomits.

Fern explains it to her and she says “Oh well let me try the California rock.”

I already want to slap this bitch and scream California Roll bitch, it’s what fake sushi eaters mac on. I remain quiet, AGAIN!

Beyonce is making a face as if she had taken a bite of petrified dog shit.

I eat quietly with her friend Rachel. I can see she wants to be there as much as I do.

Fern is attempting to eat but is trying to manage Beyonce. And this is when I hear it, a blood curdling scream. I grab another Philadelphia roll and look over to see Beyonce with both hands up in the air. She looks to be running in place shaking her head back and forth. Rachel is at her side with a look of terror in her eyes. Fern is fanning Beyonce feverishly. I take another bite of my roll and look around at the pandemonium. The entire restaurant is quiet except for the shrill of Beyonce’s voice. People are staring and pointing in disbelief. The waiters are running over to help. I think the fish were even watching.

“It is raw” Beyonce shrieks “I think it moved”
“No baby, it didn’t move. It is just salmon.” Fern says while rubbing her back.

The sobbing starts.

I guess I shouldn’t ask for a refill right now.

“Can we please go?” Beyonce sobs.

“Awe, of course we can sweetie, Rachel grab Beyoncé’s jacket and we will meet you two outside.” Fern says.
Rachel grabs the jacket and runs after them.

Oh this is just great. I am sitting at the table with a chair knocked over because Beyonce catapulted out of it. People are returning to their dinners. The fish are swimming again. The waiter comes by and sets the check down and says “you go now.”

Well shit, why do I have to go? I know what the hell I am eating. I didn’t flail my arms around in the air knocking things over in the restaurant. I just want sake and some more tuna, I think to myself. I put my credit card on the tray with the check, mutter some words, eat the rest of my Philadelphia roll, and drink Fern’s sake, sign the receipt and leave.

I am walking down the sidewalk muttering “you go now, why I gotta go, you go, you go screw yourself.” when I bump into my ex.

Seriously, DAMN could this day get any better? I did not piss in anyone’s cheerios.

“Hey Nikki” she says while giving me one of those “pat” hugs. “What are you doing up here?”

My phone rings and it is Fern. I choose not to answer it.
“Just finished dinner with a stripper and now I am going to rent a room” I say with a straight face.

I can tell she doesn’t quite know what to say. She is waiting for me to smile or say I am joking. I really am not in the mood for this small talk about the weather or how my Mom is. If she wants to know how my Mom is, call her up and ask her. I can tell her about the weather, it’s fucking cold!

My phone rings again and this time I use it as an excuse. “I have to take this, must be something wrong with the reservation. It was good seeing you.” I say as I am walking off.

Suddenly the curb jumps up and trips me. I slide about 3 feet and BAM, right on my ass I land.
She comes rushing over “are you ok, are you hurt? Don’t move.”
“I am fine” I whimper as I try and get up. “Really, I am good.”

All of the sudden I hear “What in the hell is going on here? Are you two fighting? What did you do to her?” Jamie blurts out.
Jamie is my ex’s girlfriend. Jamie use to be my best friend’s girlfriend. Jamie likes to come to other people’s homes, get drunk and mess around with other people’s
girlfriends. Jamie is not my favorite person. Jamie needs to hurry and get the hell
away from me.

“No we aren’t fighting, she fell and I think she is hurt.”

I hear a voice, a very angry familiar voice.

“OH HELL NO, what the fuck? Why are you on the ground? Are you hurt Nikki? What is SHE doing here” Fern shouts while getting in Jamie’s face.

My ex asks if Beyonce is the stripper I was talking about.

Here we go, let the shrieking begin. Jamie is screaming at Fern. My ex is yelling at Jamie. Beyonce is yelling at the ex. Rachel is trying to quiet Beyonce. Fern is just bitching at everyone. It sounds like a cat fight in an alley. The voices are echoing and escalating by the second. The fucks were flying. If you thought the civil war was bad you were wrong.

A small crowd has gathered and there I sit on the ground. This makes twice tonight we have been the center of entertainment. No-one has remembered that I am there. I get up and dust myself off. I walk right in the middle of all of them. “Hey…HEY!, Shut up” I say “You all sound like a hen house on crack.”

They all stop and stare at me.

“Enough damnit!”

Jamie starts to say something and I immediately stop her. “Jamie, we were not fighting, I fell and she was checking on me. Take your jealous fat ass and go wash down your cake with another bottle of wine. YOU…take her away from me before I shove that bottle of wine up her ass with your hand.” I say to my ex.

“Fern go get the car and get rid of this transvestite looking, no eating sushi, high maintenance bitch. I have had enough of her shit and I haven’t known her for more than an hour.” I bark “No offense Beyonce but she couldn’t afford your face cream and you put the D in drama.”

I turn to Rachel who has a smile on her face. “Call me sometime” she says.

Fuck that! I am going to get hammered.

I turn around and start walking before their tampons turn into torpedoes and bomb me. Damn what a night!

Houston, We Have No Problem

Oh man…Pride 2011 was off the charts. Everyone knows I love Seattle Pride but H-Town rocked it this year. I said last year I would never go back. So much for that… The theme was “Live, Love, Be.” I had one of the best nights I have had in years. There was no drama and just tons of fun. The crowd was crazy as usual but I was never in fear. I saw more body parts than I would have liked but it was all in fun. It reminded me of Mardi Gras in some ways except I got to be free and gay. I know many people do not understand that statement. Explaining that would be an entire other blog.

Part of what made it so much fun was I got to be myself.  I love parades and festivals and happiness. It is not unusual for me to run off chasing a float for beads or a t-shirt or whatever. I am well aware I am going to be 40 this year but that doesn’t mean I can’t act like a kid in a candy store from time to time. I had friends there that had never met one another and they got along and had fun. Every person was self-sufficient and this is how I like it. It was nice not to have to oversee a daycare.  No one was arguing even though the adult beverages were plentiful.  I have been walking on egg shells for long enough trying to please others.  It was simply an amazing and fun time.

I got to meet some new people who were a blast to be around. Others were friends of friends and even more fun. That is what Pride is about anyway isn’t it? Living and loving and being… One of my favorite parts of Seattle pride is the diversity of people. All races, sexes, sexual orientation, churches, schools, families and of course the political folks are present in Seattle. Houston is actually moving in the right direction because all of the above represented.  In our group alone we had different races, straight people, and of course us “gays.” Ha ha… There were no haters or any person who was in need of reassurance or a babysitter. We danced, laughed, played and of course the people watching was at its finest.

So congratulations Houston. I am proud of you. Thank you to all of my friends, both old and new, who shared this day with me downtown, at the bar after and in my home well into the wee hours of the morning.  P-Flag handed out yellow caution tape which read “Hate Free Zone.” I think I might make a belt out of it. AND from this moment on I am going to live by the theme “Live, Love, Be.” It will be in that order too. Live for myself; love the ones who deserve it and my favorite… Just BE! One of the people I admire most in this world reminds me of this from time to time and my Pride experience jogged that memory.  I have been a little lost lately.

Hold on to your horses, don’t get me wrong Seattle, you have my heart. San Francisco, San Diego and Dallas you are fun as well but Houston, we no longer have a problem.

Have a beautiful week people and try and remember, hate is ignorance, being mean is those demons you have not faced and never and I do mean NEVER toy with one of the most precious things a person possesses, their heart. Follow your dreams and the one who you have passion for and you will be a better person for doing so.

Peace out suckas!!

Viatnamese Bleach and Reincarnated Dogs

There is something about being here in Seattle that puts me at peace. It is most likely a number of reasons such as the beautiful scenery, the quiet, the peace and of course this is where I have done so much healing. Both physical and most importantly mentally. It makes me want to write which I have not done in so long.

If you are a follower of my blogs some of you know my Mom has had a housekeeper for many years. We have been through our trials and tribulations with her but the bottom line is simple,  she does a good job and is trustworthy. A few years ago I was in my office working and I hear a bunch of commotion upstairs. I ignore it at first but it continues to escalate. I first hear “OH MY GOD.” Only to be followed by:
“How much is this going to cost?”
“I wonder if she is insured?”
“What was she thinking?”

I decide to head up to see what has happened. There stands my Mother walking back and forth feverishly from room to room as her ever so ignorant soon to be ex husband follows her around.

I look down at the carpet and there are many, I mean many white spots all over the place. Some are large areas and some are smaller.

It appears as if there is no translation from Vietnamese and English for BLEACH and carpet cleaner.

The wicked Stepfather is now throwing a fit and refusing to call the husband of the housekeeper who speaks better English to find out why she did this. This should come to no surprise to anyone who knows him because unless it something which will directly burden him or his lifestlyle he never accepts any responsibility. I mean hell, for a man who never worked in 12 years to even have a housekeeper is enough said.

Anyway, sorry I am way off track.

The arguing continues and I go back and forth from room to room to see all areas impacted by the Carpet Cleaner from Vietnam.

My Mom says “What are we going to do?”

No response and the tension is immense.

So I quietly say “What is the big deal? We can now play Twister whenever we feel like it.”

I thought it was funny but not perceived well so I simply head back down to the office to search the internet for solutions and later bring up some phone numbers for some carpet people. Secretly wishing for some hot women to come over and play naked Twister on my new game board.

One  of my other favorite stories about the housekeeper is funny to me and today it got even better. Some of you might know when I first arrived in Seattle to live  a couple of years ago I had a rough 33 days. First my Grandfather (who I miss) died, then a friend of mine back in Houston and then my beloved dog named Bailey or known to some as Chicken.

I was very sad and the doorbell rang one morning. It was Lan , the housekeeper. She came in and immediately asked “Where your little dog?” I said he had gotten sick and did not make it. I had to put him down. She looked at me with a serious face and said “Oh, no wonder he not here.”

I smiled and said yes and made my way down stairs only to burst into laughter at the language barrier we shared. I needed that laugh. I think it was the first time I had even smiled in a month.

As I said, today it got even better. The doorbell rang and Sandido started barking like usual.  For those of you who don’t know who Sandido is, he is my 9 lb. chihuahua mix.  I have had him for a little over a year now.

My Mom picked him up and opened the door. There is my friend Lan, ready to clean. She looks at me and then looks at Sandido and says “Is that same dog?”

My Mom and I just looked at each other.

Of course my Mom told her no and I went downstairs because I knew what was about to happen to me.

Y’all, it hurt to laugh as much as I did. I had to ask Yas what her exact words were when Bailey died and she reminded me so I could write this.

Well, thank you for letting me waste some of your time today.

Make someone smile today. It truly is the best medicine.

Peace out suckas! (That was for you Dusty) I will be home soon.