I know I haven't posted anything much this month but it's NaNoWriMo as most of you probably already know. I am in the middle of writing my annual novel. This one is historical fiction about an old lesbian couple and the trials and tribulations that they experienced. It's a different genre than I normally write in so it's a bit of a challenge.
Other than that, I'm doing good. I LOVE my new job. I'm a home visitor for prenatal mothers and families with children 0-3. I love this age group so it's perfect. Being a home visitor is basically being a social worker without the ability to remove children from homes. My families are poverty families and it's a huge learning experience as well as very humbling. I love it.
 

I fucking give up. I'm done. I'm over it. I can't please anyone. You know the old saying you can't please all the people all the time? Yeah well apparently I can't please any of the people any of the time.

I will not apologize for having a family, a career, a wife, and children. I won't. I'm almost 32 years old. Why is it so hard to understand that my life is all about balance. I am constantly on this teeter totter trying to keep it even. It's never going to be even. I'm never going to please everyone that wants me too. I don't want to be pulled in any more directions. I want some understanding, some time, some space, some room to breathe, some empathy. I want to stop hearing about what a bad person I am from someone. And why am I a bad person?? Because no one seems to understand that I have THREE children, a WIFE, a JOB, freelance work and sometimes if I'm lucky I sleep. If it's so easy to balance all of that and then take care of the hundred other people who are tearing at you- COME TO MY WORLD AND DO IT!! I need a fucking break. I give up. Cards folded. I'm out.


 

Okay as most of you know things have kind of... sucked... to say the least for me and my family lately. But that's all changing now...

First of all, the vehicle thing. My Durango broke down last week. As most of you know, Michelle drives a small Ford Ranger which seats two people. Now, 5 take away 2 equals- that's right, 3 people have nowhere to sit. So it was crazy important that we get that fixed. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. The computer board in it went out and we just didn't have the money to get that fixed. We've dumped a lot of money into this vehicle over the past year. More than we should have. So... we were driving by a huge car liquidation sale and my wife says, "Hey, I wonder what's going on in there..." errrr, into the lot we go. Our sales guy, God love him, tried his best to get us this 2007 Ford Freestar minivan. $420/mo. Yeah, we can't afford that. Sorry, we'll keep looking... No wait, I think we can get you a better deal... After going back and forth, we finally haggled it down to payments of $369/mo. I paid 331/mo for my 2001 Durango with millions of problems so I thought this was a fairly decent deal and we convinced ourselves that with the gas we'd be saving, it'd even out. THEN we get to the carlot to sign the paperwork (all this took about 4 hrs) and they informed us that our payments would be $339/ mo. EIGHT DOLLARS MORE THAN THE DURANGO!! Just a complete blessing. So, now I have a beautiful baby blue 30k mi 2007 Ford Freestar. All because my wife saw some balloons...

Next, Michelle and I have been working on our relationship a lot. Things get difficult but never enough so that either of us wants to be without the other one. Things just get rough. I think that all of us that are in long term marriages or relationships forget that our spouse needs us as much as the kids, job, school, or life does. We need the sweetness. It's something we are trying to remember.

And last, there was my job. I got a job at FCI Marketing thinking that it was going to be my dream job as a graphic designer. The pay was decent, the hours were perfect, and I was doing something I loved. Unfortunately, I only did it for 2 days before I got thrown into Sales. Now, I'm good at what I do. This I know. But for some reason, I could NOT sell these kits. I sounded good, I was confident, etc. But I was the lowest seller. Why? BECAUSE I'M NOT A SALESPERSON! It's not what I was meant to be doing. Every day was my personal hell because as the ones of you that know me well know, I can't stand to not be on top. (giggity) I would look at the board everyday that listed everyone's sales. Everyone else would look at that board too. I looked incompetant when I knew I really wasn't. But no one else knew that except my sales manager, Deb. So consequently, I got fired yesterday.

AND THEN... I get a call. I had interviewed for a position with the Community Action Partnership last week (foreseeing my job ending). The position is for a Home Visitor which is like a social worker basically. I go to homes and educate pregnant mothers up to families of three year olds on how to interact, spend time with, educate, etc their children. It's something I would love to do. My interview went great but Lisa, the sup, told me (because she tells everyone) that she had to apply and be interviewed 4 times before she got the position. She started out as a Home Visitor.

However, I only had to be interviewed once. SHE CALLED AND I GOT THE JOB!! They are starting me out at a higher pay rate (same as what I made at FCI) than the job starts out at normally, I pick my core hours, they have amazing benefits being a state job, and I start on Monday. Another blessing.

Thank you to my family, my friends, and my loved ones. And of course to God. All combined efforts are turning my negatives into positives and I won't take that for granted.

Peace and Love,
Angie

BTW- I also have lost 6 lbs so far on this lifestyle diet change that Michelle, Renee, Colleen, and I are on. SIX POUNDS PEOPLE!


 

I am so disheartened with my job. I had a big disappointment and now I really don't want to be here. I thought this job was going to be perfect. It has great hours, decent pay, commission, no weekends, no evenings, no holidays. But it's not at all what I thought it would be. They have ridiculously unrealistic expectations and fire people literally almost every day. With very little opportunity to show yourself and what you can do. I still have my job but I don't know for how long. And they put me in the sales department which is not what I was hired for at all.

I just want to stay home and write. And get paid for it. Anyone want to pay me??
 

It may seem like something so simple, so everyday. But it's a object of intimidation and dread. Using a public restroom. But there are people who have to worry when they walk into a restroom that they will get questioned, get looks, or frighten someone. My wife is one of those people. So are several of my friends.

I don't get mistaken for a guy. I never have. When I came out, I had long hair and wore makeup. I wore mostly female clothes. I was usually told that I must not be a "real" lesbian. Or that I must be bisexual because of how I looked. As someone who struggled with their identity for 25 years, this was a huge insult and discouragement for me. I didn't feel like how I was categorized. I still don't. But finally I met someone who gave me the gift of freedom to wear what makes me comfortable and cut my hair that way that suits me. Now, when people see me, they may not automatically assume I'm a lesbian but they sure don't assume I'm not.

There are a lot of days (let's say 80%) that I feel butch. My emotions are stereotypical butch. My demeanor. My attitude. My persona. But there are those other days... the days I feel like putting on a little mascara, the days I take pictures like the one in my profile, the days that I want a car door opened for me or to be treated like a female. No one at work ever sees that side of me. Ever. I have personal reasons for that. One is safety. It's just safer for people to assume that I'm some badass bulldyke. Then they won't fuck with me. Looking the way I look now, I have less worry of some arrogant, stupid male deciding to prove my sexuality wrong. But sometimes, I want to be seen as beautiful.

Because my wife is perceived as butch she has fewer options than me. For starters, she's 6'1, broad shoulders, strong arms, and minimal hips. To many people, they think she's a guy. And it's not even just at first glance. It's stupidity. "What kind of name is Michelle for a guy? Is it French?" Stupid. Or "Michelle? Oh, I'm sorry, I mean Michael." Stupid. We've heard it all so let me squash those questions. No, she doesn't want to be a guy. No, she's never wanted to be a guy. No, she's not transgendered. She's not scary. She's never even been in a fight really. She's not a fighter.She's butch true enough but she's a woman. My wife has sensitive emotions and cries more than I do. She's sweet and goofy. She's soft. She has a beautiful body underneath her Adidas shirts and cargo pants. She's romantic and a great mother. She's not a father figure. She's not a dad. She's their mom.

Her voice isn't deep. Actually, we're mistaken for each other on the phone. We sound a lot alike. And neither of us sound like a guy. Over the phone, we're "ma'm". Over the phone, there's no confusion. But let her walk into the women's restroom. People are bold enough to ask, Are you in the right room? This bothers her because (as she says): A. They think I'm a guy. B. They think I'm a guy with man boobies. C. They think I'm a guy with man boobies who apparently can't read and is too stupid to know which bathroom to use. Nice.

She's called "dad" by doctors, nurses, school workers and they are all corrected. It's fucking infuriating. Have we as a society really gotten so lazy that we can't take the time to do more than just a quick glance?? Because if anyone looked at her for more than a second they would see the softness in her smile, the breasts, the hidden hips, and the female voice. They wouldn't assume because of her stature that she's male.

I love my true butch wife. I love her strength and her emotions. I love her attitude and her sense of humor. When I look at her, I see the woman who choked up during wedding vows, the woman who calmed our oldest son as he got stitches in his face, the woman who never missed a karate class for our middle son, and the woman who carried our youngest son around the zoo for hours when he was two and fell asleep. I see the woman who stayed with me through each of my mistakes, the one who stayed when no one else did, the one who supported me when I lost my job, and the one who was with me during each bipolar episode before meds and didn't walk out.

To my wife and to all my butch brothers and sisters, I love you. You are beautiful. You are proud. You are honorable. You deserve better.

Peace,
Angie aka rainbow-writer


 

I can take a deep sigh of relief because my kids are back home safe. They spent 3 weeks with their father for the summer and I dread it every year.
Their dad isn't necessarily a bad father, just a very irresponsible one. We have very different ideas of what is 'okay'. I don't think it's okay to let a five and seven year old to watch The Hills Have Eyes. He does. I don't think that kids should go night after night without brushing their teeth. He does. I don't think it's okay to eat only frozen pizzas, corn dogs, and junk. He does. I don't think it's okay to remove your child's stitches from his face- especially when you are a mechanic and not a DOCTOR. Apparently, he does.
I will be the first to admit that I make lots of mistakes as a parent. I yell too much and I get frustrated. But anyone that knows me knows that my kids are my top priority. Their needs always come first. My dream is to stay at home with them and write.
I missed them so much and I'm so glad they are back safe at home. It may sound... I don't know... conceited? But no one, NO ONE, will ever do as good of a job raising my boys as my wife and I do. They will never be as safe or as loved as they are with us.
 

Well, as per my usual style, I'm in over my head. It's all or nothing with me. Anyone that knows me, knows how true this is. I've fallen in love with someone. She's absolutely gorgeous, has big eyes, a dimpled smile, and is perfect. Her name is Jade. I'm crazy about her. It started out with her spending the night once and now she's here as much as I can get her here. And the best thing is, my wife agrees and supports me.

Jade is my neighbor's 3 month old baby girl (come on, now, you didn't think...). I adore her. When we moved here, over a year and a half ago, the boy across the street, Levi came over all the time. He was in Ryley's Kindergarten class and then his first grade class and one of Ryley's best friends. Levi spends more time at our house than his own- and with good reason.

Our house is very structured and very chaotic. We yell a lot and hug a lot. We make home cooked balanced meals and go out to eat. We may have some opposite corners on things but there are several things about our home that are unwavering. We love our kids unconditionally. We are clean. We know where our kids are at all times. We are protective. We are affectionate and we are goofy. My family is my entire world. Anyone that knows me knows this is true. The same cannot be said for Levi's family. Clean is not a word that will ever, ever be described when talking about his house. Truly, it's beyond comprehension with no exaggeration. Whereas we have a dog and 3 cats for pets, they have about 1400 cockroaches. They pretty much run the house. It's the first thing you see when you walk in. This brings me to Jade.

I know in my heart that Crystal loves her kids. How can she not? She's not abusive to my knowledge at all. The kids love her. But she's overwhelmed. She's very young. And she's tired. In her house lives her, her husband Mikey, her mom Melissa, her dad David, her grandfather who is dying Morris, her 7 year old Levi, her 4 year old Sebastian, her 2 year old Conner, and then 3 month old Jade. No, this is not a huge house. It is average sized.

It started out that I just babysat her one day for my own enjoyment. You know how much I want another baby and I hoped this would help curb that until it could happen for me. Then she asked me to keep her overnight. And to the next day. And that next night... and so on. I now have her at least 2 days and 1 night per week and this week has been more. I took her Saturday about 6 pm and brought her home at 11am this morning so I could go to work. She came back at about 8pm tonight. She's asleep right now about six feet from me.

It's getting harder when it's time to take her home. You'd think I'd have some sense of relief. I mean, after all, my boys are all independent and do for themselves (sometimes much to my chagrin). I have more freedom now to do my thing around the house without having someone COMPLETELY dependent upon me again. But I'm not relieved when she leaves. I'm sad. Very, very sad. Sad for her. Worried about her. Sad that she isn't mine. Sad to know that at anytime Crystal's family could move and I'd never see her again. And there's nothing I can do about it.

When I say she's perfect, she really is. She doesn't cry, she sleeps through the night, she loves water, she laughs, she coos, she plays, she grins. She's a smiley, happy beautiful baby girl. I'm scared for her future. I want the best for her. I want her to grow up in a family that pays attention to her and sees how special she is. I want her to have clean clothes, toys, healthy food, and fun outings like the boys do with us. We take her places with us. I buy things for her that she doesn't have (like toys). I keep things at my house for her. She has a 2nd home here. I know her cries, her moods, her routines. I know how much she eats, I know how long she'll sleep. I know when she wants to be held and when she wants down. I know all this from experience not from ever being told. And more, it was intuition. An immediate intuition.

So, she's my surrogate baby that I provide an alternative way of living to, just like we did with Levi. I want another baby so much but was getting worried that I was getting too old to do the whole baby thing again. Jade has reminded me that I'm not too old. That I can do it. I treasure my children growing and wish time would slow down for it. By her choice, Crystal's missing out on the best times of babyhood but Jade is getting to know what it feels like to be in a safe, clean, loving, affectionate household. A thing, I'm proud to say, all my children have always known. And so will my next baby. And until I'm blessed to have my own daughter or another baby boy, Jade is joyfully honoring my biological clock that had been so loud it was keeping me awake at night.

Peace,
Angie

 

I know that other people are worse off than we are. I get that. But I am so sick of being broke. I love to cook and I am so sick of only being able to make macaroni and cheese, Tuna Helper, sandwiches because we don't have the money to go buy the stuff I really want to make. I watch Rachael Ray and Paula Deen and wish that I could make the dishes they make. But I don't have the money for the ingredients right now. Having three kids is very expensive but I'd rather be broke with my kids than rich without them. I know, very deep. But I'm still frustrated. Soon Michelle's money from her student loans will come in. And we'll be better but right now... it just SUCKS!
 

We went to Pride this weekend and it was great as usual. So many couples, so much family there. Lesbian and gay couples with their kids, their dogs, their friends. As soon as you step through those entrance gates, you step into the gay world.

Every day, we live in a straight person's world. We are minorities. We are outcasted. We are closeted. We are shamed. But at Pride, everything changes. As we walk along, talking to gay businesses, eating at gay establishments, and sitting around family, we are free. We are open. We are normal. We are the majority. All of us. Dykes, fags, leather queens, drag queens, drag kings, transgendered, black, white, Hispanic, Asian. Those with kids, those without. Those with pets, those without. You sit at a picnic table next to people you don't even know and no one leaves because "gays are sitting there". You kiss your wife and no one blinks. No one asks stupid questions, "How do you have kids if you're.. you know... one of them?"

And there were straight people. Not many, mind you but they stood out nonetheless. I am all for straight allies. God bless you people. What I don't like however is the straight groupies. Don't come just to stare at the queers. We are at home.

It was an interesting change when Michelle and I had a female passing out political petitions come talk to us. She told us about the candidate, etc. But what got me was when she had a question to ask us. She said, "I'm uh, um. I'm a uh, a um heterosexual female and..." The question wasn't really important. The hesitation in her coming out to us was. She knew she was the minority. She knew she was on our turf. We made her coming out easy, once she finally got it out, by nodding like it was an everyday occurrence. Like there was nothing to be embarrassed or uneasy about being straight. Nothing wrong with being straight. Nice to be on the other side for a change.

Gays have all dreamed at some point of it being a gay world. At Pride, it's small scale but it's real. Our world.

Peace,
Angie


 

We ordered the sperm and it'll be here Friday. We are planning on trying to create our little baby on Saturday. I would so appreciate any prayers, good vibes, and thoughts our way. It's 460 per vial (that's 310 for the sperm and 150 for shipping) so it's very expensive. We're hoping to get it accomplished the first time.

I'm so excited I can't see straight (no pun intended).