The Story

When I was very little, my grandfather would set me on his knee, open a picture book or magazine and ask me what was happening in the picture. We would sit for hours (or as it seemed to a small child) and make up stories about the political comics or what an eagle was thinking in the wildlife shot. I remember reading Anne of Green Gables years later and finally feeling like someone got my brain. There was a chapter where she said she had invented colorful back stories for all the members of her church. Yes! This was me all the time!

People always ask what I read. I don’t read much any more. People ask what I write. I haven’t written a lot or at least anything you can find. But I have a love affair with stories, sometimes loving the world the story was written and the back story more. I probably was the only person who want to know more about Hobbiton or wished there had been a chapter or two more on Diagon Alley.

There have been more disappointing news with my stories coming to life, I’ve had trouble getting together with my new artist but every time we speak he says he’s still interested in the project but with a surgery coming, everything gets to be pushed back again. Even with all that, don’t give up on me and I will continue to fight to make these stories real!

Parenting

Conversation this morning:

Me: Argh!

Girlfriend: What?

Me: Well… All I want to do is go down stairs and make scrambled eggs with veggies for us and cinnamon rolls for everyone.

Gf: Ok…

Me: But if I go down stairs while the kids are there, it will be a zoo. They’d wander in and the questions would immediately start.

“What are you making?”

“Can I have some?”

“Wait, why can’t you make me the eggs without the gross stuff in them?”

“I don’t want the yucky ones!”

“Will you make each of us our own individual types of eggs?” (We have 3 Kids)

“What else are you making?” (As I have the cinnamon roll container on the counter)

“Oh we love those!”

“How many do we each get?”

“I want 2!”

I want 3!”

“You can’t have 3 stupid if there are 5 of us and only 5 rolls!”

“Well I want to frost them!”

“No I want to frost them!” And then they would start fighting.

Gf: Ok

Me: Instead, how about you have them all come upstairs, work on cleaning their rooms while I make a treat for everyone. They’ll say “ok mom” enter their room and then proceed to fight, up stairs, away from me in the kitchen with knives.

Gf: I call bullshit

Me: (oh shit, did I take the joke too far, is she still asleep and talking to me?)

Gf: Bullshit, the kids would never just say “ok mom” and good do what we wanted them too.

Sister in law walking by the door: Yeah you sounded like an 80s sitcom parent with that ‘ok mom’ part.

Gf: (thinking for a second) Yeah I’ll have them come upstairs.

We only had to send them back upstairs 3 times in 20 minutes! I call that a win.

My Holiday Rant

I celebrate Christmas because my kids look forward to it all year, because it is a time to reach out to the fringe people in our lives, because my girlfriend gets giddy like a kid over Christmas music, because it forces me to slow down for a a few days a year, because family make an active effort to see or call me, because it’s when I get everyone’s updated family pictures, because I get to spoil my gf with gifts and she is less mad at me about it. In this day and age, Christmas is about family, regardless of its origins.
I do not celebrate Christmas because of any religious reasons.
I say happy holiday because I have family and friends of many faiths, people who do celebrate this time of year for religious reasons. I have Jewish friends and new age and pagan and some day I will know someone who celebrates Kwanza! I say happy holiday because I mean from Thanksgiving to New Years and I say it because I am actively wishing all the wonderful people in my life happiness for this holiday season. Especially since in the Pittsburgh area, a lot of people are susceptible to seasonal depression.
With all this in mind, I am bothered by people who have to post passive aggressive things about saying Merry Christmas, if you want to say Merry Christmas that is fine too but trying to take Christmas back for Christ is the most insane thing I’ve heard today. The origin of Christmas has nothing to do with Christ. If you want Christmas back for Christ, then give back all the Christmas traditions that were around before him. No more caroling, ginger bread, tree, mistletoe, or gift giving!
Or maybe we can just remember the point Christmas which is k
indness, hope and love with our families, blood, adopted, and acquired.

And for further information, read this.

Did you know?

“Deciding” to be gay

I come from a very religious family. How religious you ask? Well my mother and step father are ordained reverends and I was planning on becoming a foreign missionary. I don’t remember a time when church and God was not involved in every aspect of my life; we prayed before meals, went to a Christian school, had Christian friends, shopped at Christian stores, and watched/read basicly whatever was within the parameters our church set. It was the most present thing in our lives, well in their lives. God was my second thought because I had a secret, I was gay and it was my first thought all through high school. God was there too as I tried to pray it away. My thoughts rotated between an ugly cycle of attraction to women, guilt and self loathing for that attraction, praying it away, terror someone would figure it out, and actively planning what I would say if the subject of guys came up.
When I finally “decided” to be gay, to me it just meant letting go of the guilt and trying to accept myself for who God made me. And suddenly my life and mind weren’t so full and I felt relief. It took years to full come to terms with myself and my family, but It does get better!
It makes me crazy when people say it’s a choice to be gay because my choice was not to be, but you can see how well choosing worked for me.
Hug a Homo for me because we need it, anyone who had to go through that as a kid and worse, needs to know they’re loved and accepted!
Jill