Thursday, January 17, 2013

A few confessions

Okay, so it isn't the first of the year anymore by any means, but it is the first month. I've been wanting to get a few things off my chest. Most of these are things that some people know, others may piss some of my friends off.

1. I am pro-life. I believe that abortion should only be for rape, incest, birth defects that will result in still birth (at the future parent's discretion), and life of the mother type instances. I believe this not because I am super religious, but because I think that too many people use abortion as birth control.

2. I'm a moderate. I don't always vote Republican or Democrat, but when I registered to vote it was under the Republican party.

3. I think monogamy is an impossible dream for most people. It is what is right and perfect for some people, but not for all, and I wish that times would catch up and start reflecting that just a bit more. I find it shameful that people like the Brown family from Sister Wives have to keep their lives so secret because of a lack of societal acceptance and a fear of their families being separated.

4. I believe that people should be able to be married to whomever they choose. Man, woman, doesn't matter to me. But, on the other side of that coin, I think that the phrase civil union is an acceptable term for same-sex unions, especially in American culture, where even heterosexual unions aren't valid unless you get a license to do it first.

I think I will leave it at that for now, but I may post some more stuff later.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Thankful For (Part II)

I said I would make a list for one thing per day, so here goes the 8th through the 22nd.

8. Being able to read. I know its silly, but some cultures believe that women are not worth educating.

9. Books. They are my favorite escape, and are fuel for my passion for reading.

10.  Freedom of speech. I like not having to worry about being arrested for not liking something and saying something about it.

11. Being able to vote. Its something that has only been legal for me to do for 92 years. And even when you bet on the wrong horse, at least you got to have your say.

12. My computer. Its a lifeline at times.

13. The proverbial broken road. I learned a lot of life lessons on it.

14. Small miracles. The day my health insurance was going to expire (I officially aged out on 11/01), my work insurance came through (day one of coverage was 11/01).

15. Health insurance. With all I have wrong with me health-wise, if I didn't have it, I would be screwed.

16. The internet. Do I really need to expound on this one?

17. Living in a state that has equal rights for gays. Random fact, there are still states out there where employers can fire you for being gay.

18. Music. I'd go crazy without it.

19. Co-workers that care. I can't really go into details, but it helps to know that some of my co-workers have my back.

20. Food. Lots of people go hungry, and even though I'm broke a lot, I have enough for food to eat.

21. My health. It could be a lot worse.

22. Doctors that know what the hell they are doing. Because if it wasn't for the doctors I have, I'd be in trouble.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Thankful for....

One of my besties, Megan, does a "thankful for" section on her blog for November. She tries to do one every day. I'm not that good. I am a workaholic, and so I don't even get to play with the internet at all by the time I get home some nights, but I am going to try to do one per week, with one thing for each day of the month. I know this post is going to say that I posted it on the eighth, but I haven't gone to bed yet, so its still the seventh in my book.

1. My better half, Ryan. He's the best person I've dated/been with, and the only one of those people who has treated me like I'm worth anything. I love him very very much.

This is an old picture, one of the first we took together. I think Ryan was watching something on tv when this was taken.

2. Parents and a family who love me. They can be downright suffocating at times, but when stuff gets tough, they are always there to support me.

My dad being a goofball while setting up for our garage sale. Taken on my phone, while laughing my butt off.
3. My cat. I know this is kind of silly, but cats make me feel infinitely better. And Korro (the cat) is a kitten who seems to have an infinite amount of cuteness.

 He will take that toy away from you, then bring it back when he remembers it needs a hoomin to make it move. He also took off all the feathers with his teeth and claws.

4. My roommate Amanda. She and I have been friends for a long time. Like since junior high. I had been living with my parents, and it was driving me nuts (you can only sleep on the futon in the living room for so long). She convinced her grandparents to let Ryan and I move in with her, because she was living alone in their 3 bedroom house.
I didn't have a picture of Amanda on my computer. This is her cat Yuki.

5. My family of friends. They keep me sane. Words cannot express how much they have helped me over the years. If it wasn't for a couple of them (I think they know who they are) I would not have made it though my freshman year of college.

6. My job. I go insane without one, and this one pays me enough to cover the bills, rent, and food. I went almost a year without a job that did that, and I missed it.

7. A cool boss. Dan is laid back, willing to go to bat for his employees, and as an added bonus loans me fantasy novels that for some reason are not at my local library.

Monday, May 7, 2012

In Memoriam

Before I get to the part that made me cry A LOT while I wrote it, my condolences go out to David and Megan Murray. David's father passed away recently, as did Megan's great-aunt. My condolences also go out to my friend Maddie, who also recently lost a great-aunt. RIP to all of them. Also, I apologize in advance for the scatteredness of this post. I was crying while I wrote what you are about to read, but do not feel right editing it other than for spelling, as it is an outpouring of my feelings and therefore should not be edited because it is such a personal topic to me.
At the end of February, my aunt, Susan Angher, lost her battle to cancer. She was 58 years old. My aunt was for the most part a good person, but she suffered from numerous psychological issues. Because of this and some other things I don't really care to share, my family did not speak to her or my grandmother for twelve and a half years. However, I did end up visiting her before she passed away, several times. I found out that she had tried very, very hard to get herself together. She apologized to my mother for any harm caused because of her, and that is what prompted me to go see her again. She apologized to me for the things that had happened when I was a child. Now that I know how much she regretted things, and how much she really was hurting, I feel bad that I did not get in touch with her sooner. I blamed her and my grandmother for my unhappy teenage years, because my sister has a lot of problems and fears that were induced by them and later taken out on me. I no longer blame my aunt for these things. When I first went to visit her, she was placed in the ICU that night. The following visit, she was still in the ICU. On my final visit, she had been moved to a regular room and was doing better. She had an infection in her lung that could not be shaken from due to a particularly vicious type of chemotherapy that was given while she was under the weather (Susan had Stage IV breast cancer, which had metastasized into her bones). She was in pain, but still doing good enough to be out of ICU. I cut my visit short, partly because she was so far from my home, partly because she looked so much like my mother in that bed (people often mistook them for twins) and I was having difficulty with that, and partly because I thought I would be able to see her again. The last time I saw her was Valentine's Day. That weekend, my parents got a call that Susan was probably not going to make it through Sunday night, and around midnight on Monday or Tuesday she passed away. My mother and grandmother were with her when she passed away, and they said that she went very peacefully, as though she sighed and then was gone. I regret not going to see her once more, but my parents didn't want me to see her in that state. They wanted me to remember her in a better state, but all I can seem to remember is her looking at me like she didn't want me to go, and promising her that I would see her again soon. I did see her again, but in my dreams. She was happy in my dreams, and I hope that she is at peace. Her husband, Tom, who died when I was 11, was the only man she ever loved, so it does make me happy that she is with him again. She was cremated, and will be buried next to him, near where his arms would be, so that she can rest in his arms in death as they rested together in life. RIP Aunt Susan, I loved you.

Friday, December 9, 2011


When I moved to Houston, it was a big choice. In Illinios, I have friends, family, and there was a guy here I was in love with, or at the very least loved and had a romantic interest in. In Houston, I had no family, a handful of friends, and a job that happened to transfer from Illinois. Houston just seemed like the place I belonged at the time though, because it had Ryan there, along with the “friends” we lived with (more on them later).
 Romantic interest boy’s name was Paul, and a few weeks before I moved, he left for Iraq. Before he ended up in Iraq though, he had to make a stop in Texas too. A couple of weeks into being in Houston, I was given the opportunity to see him again. By this time, he had managed to piss me off completely, going on and on about how love did not exist because the girl he was in love with did not reciprocate his feelings to the extent he wanted. Ryan and I had also gotten together somewhere around right when I got to Houston (he even helped me make the trip down).
I had fallen in love with Ryan in November when I met him, and those feelings had solidified through all-night phone conversations and a whole lot of texts. Just before I moved to Houston, he and his girlfriend at the time broke up, then days before I moved they got back together, for her sake (he knew he was going to end it again when they got back together). I was so upset when they did, because I had been hoping that he would get together with me when I moved. Then, on the drive to Houston, he told me that he had feelings for me too. That was all I had needed. I was his, and had known I would be before I even moved. He and Tiffany broke up within a week or two of me being there (not because of me, but because they were not right for each other).   
Paul had asked me to come see him at the military base he was stationed at in El Paso. This would have meant flying to El Paso, staying in a hotel, and seeing someone who recently hurt me, seemed to hate all my beliefs, and friend-zoned the hell out of me. But he was still Paul, who I had had a casual relationship with for nearly two years. It was in some ways a hard thing to say no. It was probably one of the best things I ever did though. Ryan and I were starting something new and I hate to think of how much I could have hurt him had I gone. He had a hard time trusting people, and somehow I had earned his trust. I knew then that if I were to go, it would have meant breaking his trust, and hurting someone I loved, someone who after only a few weeks of being with I could not sleep without. Knowing him, he probably would have retreated into himself again, like he did after his previous breakup, and we would not be where we are now.  Now, just over a year after we met, we are engaged, and living together here in Illinois. He means the world to me. It just goes to show you how one choice makes all the difference. I’m glad I said no. I just wish I had learned to say it to Paul a little sooner.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

On sexuality and bullying

This is a double post, just for clarity. The first bit is on sexuality, in honor of National Coming Out Week, the second about an issue that greatly affects the GLBT community - bullying - but is not solely about how it affects it.
National Coming Out Day was the 11th of this month (although some people consider the whole week a time for coming out), and I want to open this post by saying that I am bisexual. Any of my friends who read this know that already, but hopefully by some point in time, my only reader will not be one of my bffs who also blogs on here. I know that in my last post I mentioned being in a long term relationship with a male, but rest assured reader(s) that I do not only claim bisexuality because its trendy or because I think girls are somewhat cute. I am, as a gay friend of mine says "a true bisexual." I have kissed other girls, had sex with them, even been in a couple of long term relationships with them. I am just as notorious as your average male is for ogling a girl/woman with a nice bum. I can also say the same about doing thinks with the opposite sex.
One of the hardest things that anyone of what society considers to be an alternative sexuality is telling others. I was lucky. I told my dad, and he said "so what," as did my super-religious cousin and his wife. My mother is still convinced that it's just a part of me trying to figure out what my sexuality is, but she has never shunned me for being who I am, nor has she ever banned a girlfriend of mine from coming over, unlike the mother of one of my exes. I had another ex that was terrified that if her mother found out she was dating me, she would beat her to death, because she was that religious and old school. Which leads me to my next topic.
Bullying is a horrible thing for any kid to go through, no matter what the reason. As a child, anyone can bully you, your fellow classmates, your teachers, even your parents. As people grow up, they can be bullied by coworkers or by supervisors. You are helpless against it, because the best you can do is try to not care.
I was made fun of throughout all of grade school. Today, bullying awareness is taught to parents, and children are punished severely for bullying. When I was in grade school and high school, bullying wasn't discussed. It was just a part of life, nothing more. I grew up in the era before the phrase "hate crime" existed, before Facebook was the axis around which social lives revolved, and before bullies got into trouble. Most people thought that it was part of how childhood was supposed to be, and that it built character. 
As I got older, I developed a tougher skin. I was still the freak that wore the "mom jeans" because that was how I liked to dress, and but I didn't care that my sense of style was a little eccentric. The people who made fun of me could go to hell for all I cared, but at times I still suffer from fears of what others will think of me for the littlest things, from how my hair looks to the kind of clothes I wear. I was lucky enough to never get beat up, but I know plenty of people who did, including my better half, Ryan.
I applaud the efforts of schools today to bring awareness to the issue of bullying, but wish it hadn't taken a bunch of kids committing suicide for the world to wake up and pay attention. Rest In Peace to all those whose lives ended as the result of bullying. To all those who are still suffering because of bullying, I want you to know that it gets better if you just hang on until it does, because it will eventually.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

About me...

So I figured I should actually take some time and update this. First, about me...I'm from a small suburb of Chicago that nobody ever can spell, the kind of town where you have to go a couple of towns away to get to a Walmart or Target. I went to college in Joliet, and ended up living there for nearly six years total (4 years in college, just over a year and a half after that). After that, I moved to Houston. That lasted for all of six months, and am now living in the aforementioned small town with my parents and my love, Ryan. I have a useless degree (never major in radio people!), and am currently looking for work, preferably in a bank, where I at least have a little experience.
As for Ryan, I often like to joke that he came with my apartment when I moved to Houston, and its sort of true. He and I actually met for the first time in the Wal-Mart he (and later I) worked in, but he was the roommate of a friend of mine, and when I moved to Houston I moved into the apartment that the two of them lived in, along with two other people. We have now been together for seven months (known each other nearly a year), and with any luck will spend the rest of our lives together. Sometimes I'm pretty sure I don't deserve him, others I wonder what I did to deserve him (in a good way of course). Though its hard to get me to admit it out loud, he is one of the best things to ever happen to me, and he means the world to me.