Three six

I had a birthday on Tuesday and I got this brilliant idea of taking Monday and Tuesday off from work so that I could have a long birthday weekend.  Let me tell ya… it was great!  I’m pretty sure I’m never working on my birthday again as long as I can manage it. 🙂 

Last year for my birthday I posted 35 things that I’d accomplished/things I was proud of.  This year I decided to be a little random and just give you 36 things about me.   So here we go!

1. I have to peel the price tag off of almost everything I buy, but especially books.
2. I judge books by their covers, I can’t help it.
3. I’m a bit of a book snob but I haven’t read a lot of the classics.
4. I’ve tried and failed several times at reading Pride & Prejudice.
5. My cat Kira would’ve been named Clovis if she’d been a boy.
6. I wanted to be a dancer/singer/actor when I was growing up.
7. I sing all the time when I’m alone.
8. I can’t get enough of musicals and concerts.
9. My dreams are often vivid like movies.
10. I don’t let go easily and often stay holding on when I should let go.
11. I’m still afraid of the dark sometimes.
12. I’ve always wanted to color my hair a crazy color or at least do a color stripe but haven’t… yet.
13. All I really want to do is be happy, love, be creative, and have kids.
14. I watch a LOT of Disney Channel.
15. I loved frogs for years before knowing the frog is my Native American zodiac sign. (I have a very teeny tiny bit of Native American in my family).
16. I carry Band-Aids with me because I seem to need them more than most people.
17. I only buy cool Band-Aid’s.
18. My little brother is 19 years younger than me.
19. I want to live inside of Disney World.
20. I’m a city girl who lives on a farm.
21. The high school I graduated from had 4 classrooms, 2 bathrooms, an office and a storage room.
22. My best friend was once one of my high school teachers.
23. My high school principal is one of my close friends, my neighbor and my landlord.
24. I can’t stand Lifetime movies and Harlequin romance novels.
25. I love going to midnight movie premieres.
26. Superhero comic book action movies rock my socks.
27. Almost anything that is rainbow colored makes me happy.
28. Bookstores and coffee shops are my escape.
29. I have a bad track record of falling down stairs.
30. I’ve only broken one bone in my body and I broke it twice on different occasions.
31. I love to sleep and snuggle.
32. I’m often misunderstood because I’m so passionate about things.  People think I’m a bitch or I’m mean because of it.
33. I swear a lot.
34. I’m a Twitter whore.
35. I’ve had prophetic dreams.
36. I have nicknames for most people I know, some that I’ve never shared with them.

Photo source (I find it quite funny that the photo I liked most on google was from a post by another blogger listing 36 things about himself for his birthday). 🙂  Happy Birthday, Aaron!

50 Shades of Domestic Violence

I haven’t been shy about my dislike of the book 50 Shades of Grey and the message it’s sending.  If you follow me on twitter you’ve heard me bitch about it even more over there when I get on one of my rants.  There are many, many reasons why this book just plain pisses me off.  Shitty writing, shitty fact checking, shitty editing, barely making an effort to change it from AU fanfic before publishing it… I could go on for days.  But honestly, the thing that bothers me the most about this book is that it is so incredibly full of universal red flags for Domestic Violence (DV) and women all over the world are eating this book up like it’s cake. 

BDSM is not domestic violence if both partners fully consent to it.  That’s not by any means what I’m getting at.  I think that when the DV term is thrown out there people automatically assume that you mean physical violence.  That’s not at all what I’m talking about here.  So let me give you my social worker rundown real quick.

Domestic Violence is not about anger management or just about physical abuse.  It’s about power and control over another person.  That can be physical control in the form of beating the shit out of someone, or emotional control through threats, isolation, and mind games.  As someone who has lived through emotional abuse I can say that it royally sucks and it’s just as awful dealing with someone emotionally beating you up as it is getting physically beat up.

An alpha can be an alpha without being an abuser.  Someone can assert themselves and be in control without having to control you.   The person who beat me never touched me physically.  But that person crushed my spirit, made everything bad in the world seem like it was my fault, blamed all of their problems on me, and kept me in this fucked up world where I actually believed that I was the problem.  But I wasn’t.  That is what domestic violence is about; having power and control over someone else and making them believe that they’re doing it for your own good.

I enjoyed the Twilight books and movies.  I’m not a Twilight hater by any means.  But the books were very hard for me to get through because of the little things that Meyer put in the books that screamed of DV.  I mean come on, step away from your love of Edward for a moment and think about it.  He would crawl through Bella’s bedroom window at night to watch her sleep and started that before he even was her friend.  He was nice to her one moment and then mean the next.  He got mad at her for tripping on the field trip to the greenhouse.  When he saved her life and she wanted to talk about it he blew her off and said she had hit her head.  He told her that he could kill her and how everything in him wanted him to.  Even Bella’s mom says to her in the second book how Edward is so clingy.  

Check this out and think about Bella and Edward’s relationship: Power & Control Wheel.

I can honestly point out something in nearly every spoke of that wheel that Edward does to Bella in the Twilight books.  I’m not the only one either, there have been plenty of articles about DV organizations pointing out the red flags in Twilight.

Even though Twilight is full of red flags, I was able to separate it as fantasy and just enjoy it.  Unlike when I rewatched Phantom of the Opera as a social worker and could not stop obsessing about how creepy the Phantom suddenly was! 🙂  But then we come to 50 Shades.  A story that is not about vampires even though it was written about Twilight characters.  A story that women all over the world are eating up and saying how bad they want a man like Christian Grey in their lives, how they wish their husbands were more like Grey.  That, my dear readers, is where I have a really big fucking problem with this book’s success.

The Problem with Fanfic

There’s a lot of talk going on about fanfic lately. In fact, I think more people suddenly know what fanfic is than ever before. Sadly though, it’s because a series of Twilight fanfic stories have been published and despite how awful the writing is (and the fact that it’s fanfic) it’s selling like crazy. Yes, I’m talking about 50 Shades of Grey by E.L. James.

I will start this rant by saying that no, I haven’t read the books in their entirety. Frankly, I don’t plan to read them because the bits of the books I have seen make me want to vomit. I’m all for people getting published… I really am. Just like any writer I want to have bestselling books that inspire movies. I want people talking about my books all over the world on talk shows. But I have a serious problem with the 50 Shades book and its subsequent spawn, and it’s not because I’m jealous.

Let me also say that I write fanfic. I’ve been writing fanfic for over a decade now and without it I wouldn’t have fallen in love with writing like I have. Without fanfic I wouldn’t have groupies readers all over the planet who have read my books. I love fanfic and I love being a fanfic author. My distaste of the success of James is not because I’m a stodgy jerk who doesn’t understand the world of fanfic.

There are different types of fanfic though and I feel like with all of this new media coverage of fanfic people don’t understand the difference. One kind fanfic could possibly be turned into a standalone book without seeming like a total fucking rip off, and another kind walks the line of plagiarism, stealing, shadiness and just wrongness.

The fanfic that I write consists of using a person who exists in real life as a character in a fictional story. For example taking oh… let’s say a Backstreet Boy and throwing him into all sorts of drama (and hopefully lots of hot sex) in the form of a novel or short story. This is the kind of fanfic that in my humble opinion could be turned into publishable work. Names can be changed and although you might be able to draw similarities, it’s still fiction. In other words, it’s original. The characters are mine and as I see it, these stars are just the actors in my book. I have a book (which ironically is named Shades of Gray) that if I were to go through and take out the references to actual people and perhaps do a little tweaking of certain details, it would stand alone as a book about a chick who falls in love with a guy in a band.

Baby Wanted

I know all about how baby dreams mean that something new is coming into your life and not necessarily a baby.  But for someone who wants a baby more than anything else in the world, those dreams are bittersweet.

Take Wednesday night for instance.  I had a dream in which I had a rather messed up hospital experience but then at the end of it I had this beautiful boy in my arms.  I was totally and utterly in love with the kid within milliseconds.  My friend Jill was there, she had her baby in real life this morning (Welcome to the world, Miss Cecilia!), and in the dream I was so excited that my son was born the day before her daughter so that they could be friends.  It was a good dream.

Then of course I woke up back in reality where I’m 35.5 years old, single, live with my mom and my grandpa and have no children.  Sure, the prospect of something new coming into my life is cool because let’s face it… I could use some new.  But damn it, I want a baby.

The one and only thing that I have ever known with 100% certainty is that I want to be a mom.  I’ve known this since I was a little kid and over the years it’s never faltered.  I am simply one of those people that are just meant to be a parent.  Yeah, there are other things I’d like to do with my life, but to me they’re all just extras with the job title of Mama being the number one goal. 

Godmother, Aunt, Big Sister, Nanny, Babysitter, Caregiver, Social Worker, Child Support Group Leader… I’ve done them all.  My nickname among friends for years has been “Mama Kel” because I always fall into the role of the mom making sure that everyone is okay.  It’s just who I am.  What I do. 

There were a whole lot of reasons why I burnt out in my case worker job, but to be honest, one of them was because it was so frustrating to work with people who had children that they didn’t want, didn’t deserve, didn’t love, and/or didn’t appreciate.  No, not all of my clients were awful… some were really great parents who just needed help and I was glad to provide that help to them.  But the ones who couldn’t see what was wrong with abusing or neglecting their children and would make excuses for it are the ones that got to me.  The people who thought that hitting their children with objects and leaving marks was okay.  The girls many years younger than me who were popping out a new kid every couple of years with a different guy and then not making any effort to raise those kids and give them a good home.  Those were the ones that got to me.  It simply breaks my heart when I see children who are brought into this world and not given a chance at a happy life.  I don’t give a rats ass if you were hit as a kid and you think you “grew up just fine,” there is never EVER a reason to pick up an object and hit your child (or anyone else for that matter) with it.  Ever.

This isn’t a post about physical discipline though… that’s a whole other issue to cover some other time.  This is about the fact that my heart and soul aches to love a child of my own and just be a good mom.  Yeah, I’ll make mistakes… everyone does.  I don’t want to be Super Mom, I just want to be Mom. 

I’m told by younger women quite often how they’re running out of time to have kids and I sit there thinking, “Well thanks… that sure makes me feel better since I’m older than you.”  Then people with kids think it’s a great idea to say to me how lucky I am that I have my freedom because I don’t have kids.  Yeah, it’s not a great idea to tell me that.  In fact, it’s a horrible idea.  You don’t tell someone who wants children more than anything that they’re lucky that they don’t have kids.  It’s the biggest slap in the face you could give them.  You’re essentially saying, “You’re so lucky that you don’t have the one thing you want most in life even though I have it myself!”  Seriously? 

I’ve always said that even if I had to do it alone, I’d be a mom some day.  I really don’t want to do it alone.  Of course I’d love to be in love with someone and share parenthood with them.  At this point though, I’m starting to think that doing it alone might be what I end up doing.  It’s true, I am on the older side of the spectrum when it comes to having a biological child.  Plus with all of my crazy mystery illnesses I often wonder if being knocked up would just cause my body to revolt.  Of course I want to be pregnant and experience everything that comes with it, good and bad.  I want a baby who looks like me and has my crazy curly hair… But that’s not by any means to say that I couldn’t love a baby who I didn’t give birth to who needs a Mama. 

Here’s the problem though.  As a single person my options are kind of limited.  There’s artificial insemination, adoption, and then there’s the option of taking a page out of the Heart songbook and finding some random dude for the whole “All I wanna do is make love to you…” thing. 

Artificial insemination is great but expensive.  Local adoption is cool but can take years (especially being a single person) and the social worker in me is terrified by stories I’ve heard of bio parents trying to come back into the picture and take the child away.  Overseas adoption would be awesome but again is mega expensive.  I don’t think my local credit union will give me a loan to adopt a child or to get knocked up, do you?  Which leaves a romp in the hay with some guy which could be fun, but it’s not exactly safe or practical.  It is however, free. 

Of course being a foster parent is also an option but honestly, I don’t know if I could do it.  I’m a Cancer, we fall in love really fast.  I don’t think I could have a child in my home and fall in love then have to send it back to its bio parents.  Yeah, I get the idea of being a stable loving home for the child while they’re in need… but I honestly think my heart would break into a million pieces every time I had to let one go back home.  And well, let’s face it… that would send my clinical depression into a serious tailspin and yeah… not exactly the best idea.

So what do I do?  People tell me, “Stop thinking about it, that’s when it’ll happen!”  As great as that would be, I can’t help but think that I’ll do that and then I’ll still find myself still single, without kids, and too old to have them naturally.  Maybe that’s a little Negative Nancy-like but it’s very possible.  I don’t want to wake up some day and feel like it’s “too late” for me to be a mom.  

Maybe I should go buy a Mega Millions ticket before the deadline tonight.  🙂  Then I could afford to adopt overseas, quit this craptactular job and be a stay at home mom, right?

I know I’ll make it happen… I’m just not sure how yet. 🙂

F is for Fear

I have a lot of fears.

I’m afraid of tornados, hurricanes, really bad thunderstorms, gigantic bridges over water, and the word “panties” to name a few.  I’ve been known to do a freaked out heebie geebie dance over spiders before and after squashing them into oblivion with a Chuck Taylor.  I’m also terrified of the idea of people who I love dying.  I like to think that aside from the panties thing, most of my fears are pretty common.

Some of my fears are kind of weird though.  Like, I’m afraid of heights, but I love to fly, love roller coasters, and really dig going up in super tall buildings like the Sears Tower (Yes, I know it’s now the Willis Tower but it’s always going to be the Sears Tower, damn it!).  I’m afraid of being in water that I  can’t see across, but I love being in and around water.  I know, I’m a special girl.

I don’t like spiders, but I can generally work up the courage to kill them or suck them up in a vaccum.  The water thing is still near the top of the list, but I managed to go on a multi day cruise without anything close to a panic attack.  When a bird is in a store, I hate it.  Bird houses in zoos where you’re supposed to walk through and gaze at the birds and they can fly around you are a huge no-no in my book.   But if there’s a bird outside and it doesn’t invade my space bubble, I’m not going to go running away from it screaming or anything like that.  I guess what I’m trying to say is that I have these fears but for the most part I can face them.

There’s one fear though that I’ve discovered that I simply can’t face.  In fact, it is by far the most paralyzing fear I’ve ever experienced and it’s one that I never knew I had until I had to face it.  It’s such a true fear that even thinking about writing about it in this post is starting to freak me out.  I’m sitting here bouncing my legs nervously and deep breathing just in anticipation of explaining what the hell I’m talking about.  

D is for Dementia

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged anything other than a book review via Goodreads.  It’s pretty much a clue that I’ve been overwhelmed by life when all I want to do is lose myself in book after book and I don’t even get any of my own writing done.

Things around the Compound have been interesting.  I knew that having my grandpa move in with us would be difficult.  It was hard before he moved in because my mother and I were the only people in the family who were regularly taking care of my grandpa.  Doing so meant driving a good 20-30 minutes one way from where we were living to where he was living.  Trying to get anyone else to help out was basically a joke so we did it ourselves.  There was even a time when we came home early from vacation because no other family in town could check on Grandpa for us just to make sure he was okay when we were unable to reach him by phone.

When we moved into a bigger home that could accommodate him as well, it got rid of all of the extra driving between our house and his apartment.  It also ensured that he wasn’t alone all of the time and would be able to have daily interaction with people instead of what he was getting in his apartment (which was basically if my mom and I didn’t visit, he was alone… every now and then someone would stop by for a few minutes but those moments were far and few between).

Having Grandpa in the house means a lot more than just an extra roommate though…  A lot more than I think many people understand.  He turned 97 years old yesterday and although he’s still pretty amazing when it comes to things he can do on his own, he’s also got a whole list of other things he simply can’t do anymore.  He’s also regressing regularly and finding out that things he had been doing just fine until recently aren’t possible anymore.

Dealing with Alzheimer’s/Dementia is incredibly hard to deal with on a daily basis.  It’s kind of like having an adult in your home who sometimes acts like an adult and other times acts like a preschooler.  Except when they’re acting like a preschooler they truly don’t see what’s wrong with it and think it’s perfectly okay.  Gramps recently spent fifteen days in the hospital due to pneumonia, sepsis, shingles and a handful of other issues… on his first full day in the hospital he spit a half chewed carrot across the room because he didn’t want to chew it.  At home and in restaurants if he decides that he doesn’t like something we’ve given him to eat, he leans forward and spits it out onto his plate or the table.  Sure, it can be humorous at times (having a sick sense of humor is key when living with dementia in the house), but it’s also quite frustrating and very, very sad. 

Cancer Awareness Instead of Lies

Imagine being diagnosed with breast cancer.  All of a sudden you’re consumed with thoughts of possible loss.  You might have to lose your hair because of chemo, your might have to have a single or double mastectomy and lose your breasts, and oh well there’s that chance that you might also lose your life too if the cancer spreads.  In other words you’re scared as hell.

You decide to log on to Facebook to check in on friends… maybe you’ll play a couple of games to help you avoid the real world for a while.  But when you log on you see posts from multiple female friends saying that they’re going on these amazing trips.  One says she’s going on a 10 month trip to Germany while another says she’s going on a 2 month trip to Australia.  Aside from being shocked that so many friends are taking huge trips you think to yourself that it must be nice to be able to plan something that big without worrying about cancer getting in the way.

Then you check your FB inbox and come across this…

Okay ladies, it’s that time of year again…support of Breast Cancer Awareness!! So we all remember last year’s game of writing your bra color as your status? Or the way we like to have our handbag handy?

Last year, so many people took part that it made national news and the constant updating of status reminded everyone why we’re doing this and helped raise awareness!! Do NOT TELL ANY MALES!!!!!! what the statuses mean…keep them guessing!!

And please copy and paste (in a message) this to all your female friends! It’s time to confuse the men again (not that it’s really that hard to do ;]) The idea is to choose the month you were born and the day you were born. Pass this on to the GIRLS ONLY and lets see how far it reaches around. The last one about the bra went around all over the world. Your status should say: “I am going to________________for___________ months.”

The day you were born should be for how many months you are going.

January–Mexico
February– London
March–Miami
April—Dominican Republic
May–France
June– St Petersburg
July–Austria
August–Germany
September– New York
October–Amsterdam
November- Paris
December–Australia

Aside from the ridiculous overuse of exclamation points and bad grammar, what really pisses you off is that not only are your friends LYING about a trip they’re taking but they’re doing it in “support of Breast Cancer Awareness.”  You’re facing a life changing and possibly life threatening illness and this is what your friends are doing to support the cause?

Don’t get me wrong… I love a good meme just like the rest of you.   If someone sends me a way to find out what my Star Wars, Harry Potter or porn name is I’m all for figuring it out and posting it on FB.  However, this bullshit trend of saying that these meme’s are in support of a cause is just that… bullshit.

Excuse my French but what the FUCK does lying about a trip you’re going to take do to spread cancer awareness?!  I get pissed off every time one of these so-called breast cancer awareness meme’s rolls around.  The purse one was fine… stupid but fine.  The bra one was insulting to breast cancer patients and survivors around the world.  Yeah let’s post on Facebook what color our bras are in “support” of women who might not even have breasts anymore… that’s fucking brilliant!  So this time around some genius thought, “Okay, we won’t use anything that’s connected with breasts this time… let’s just flat out lie!  That’ll be SO funny!”  Seriously?

Yes, these stupid ass meme’s do get press.  But what press do they get?  A one minute blurb on the news saying that women are posting “mysterious” status updates to FB in order to support cancer awareness.  That’s it. There’s no follow up that deals with ACTUAL breast cancer awareness!  So essentially the meme is a lazy ass way to SAY that you’re supporting cancer awareness while you really aren’t doing a damn thing.

Here’s what I propose… a meme that actually means something.  One that educates people, inspires people to help, raises funds for research/treatment, honors survivors, and remembers those who lost the fight to cancer.  One that includes EVERYONE.  Men get breast cancer too, you know?  They also love women who have or had breast cancer… it’s absolutely ridiculous to leave them out.  How do you think the man who lost his wife to breast cancer feels about your so-called support?

So instead of putting a lie up as your status and leaving out men do this instead.  Complete the sentence below and use it as your status.

I’m not posting about a fake trip to “support breast cancer awareness,” instead I am truly supporting breast cancer awareness by ____.

Fill in that blank with things that actually DO SOMETHING!  Things like:

… knitting/crocheting chemo caps to donate to the local cancer center.
… volunteering at my hospital/hospice/cancer center to support cancer patients.
…donating x amount of dollars to my favorite cancer charity.
…telling my story about how I survived breast cancer.
…telling my story about how scary it was when my ___ had breast cancer.
…telling you what it was like to lose my __ to breast cancer.
…getting a mammogram!
…driving my friend to get a mammogram.
…attending a cancer fundraiser with friends and survivors.
…giving a hug to my best friend who is  cancer patient and holding his/her hand.

The possibilities are endless really, and get this… you don’t have to LIE!  As a matter of fact, you don’t even need to stick to breast cancer… use the meme to support all cancer awareness!  I can guarantee that by doing this meme you’ll be much more supportive to those who have cancer, had cancer, or lost someone to cancer.

So what are YOU going to do for cancer awareness?  Leave your answer in the comments, post it to Facebook and by all means, share the hell out of this post anywhere you want!

On being Bi

I’ve wanted to write a blog post about bisexuality for quite some time now. I’ve got multiple drafts of posts running around in my head and some even on paper. The problem though is that I get so pissed off when I’m talking about the misconceptions that people have about bisexuality that I end up not being able to finish the post because I can’t get my words out right.

Thankfully however a post was made on a Facebook group that I belong to, Bisexuality Is Real -It Exists, and it’s so freaking perfect that I have to share it. I beg of you to take a few minutes to read it. Emphasis added by moi.

Bisexuality Isn’t Confusing – Bisexuals Aren’t Confused
No, they’re really not – it’s people’s attitudes to bisexuality that are confused. A bisexual is someone who is attracted to more than one gender.

Everyone accepts that it’s possible for a person to be attracted to people of more than one height, weight, hair color, or race. For bisexuals that openness also includes gender.

Bisexuals Aren’t Greedy
It’s not ‘greed’ if someone likes chocolate cake and fruit salad. Greed isn’t a wide range of desire or attraction; it’s excessive attraction. Some people seem to confuse being attracted to more than one gender with being attracted to everyone. This is rather silly – it’s a bit like saying that lesbians or straight men are attracted to all women, or straight women and gay men are attracted to all men.

They’re not. Bisexuality isn’t about ‘all’ it’s about ‘either.’

Bisexuals Don’t Have To Be Equally Attracted To Men And Women
You don’t have to be equally attracted to red-heads and brunettes to be attracted to both, and preferring lettuce to liver doesn’t make you a vegetarian, so why do some people insist that “true” bisexuals are exactly and equally attracted to men and women?

Some bisexuals prefer androgynous partners, some don’t. Some really love the differences between the sexes, others don’t see those differences. Some of us are only attracted to 5% of one gender, and 60% of the other – you don’t need to be 50/50 or have those add up to 100. And some bisexuals believe that thinking in terms of two genders is restrictive.

Sexuality isn’t black and white – and the spectrum between gay and straight isn’t greys. Think about it this way – rather than black and white, sexuality is red and blue. Purple is not the new red-blue, purple is the new purple. And there are more colors besides that between red and blue, there’s orange, yellow and green for starters!

Bisexual Isn’t About There Being Only “Two Sexes”
Some people get hung up on the ‘bi’ and protest that gender isn’t binary. They claim that identifying as bisexual is tantamount to saying Trans people don’t exist, or that you’re not attracted to them, or that you’re only into masculine men and feminine women. However many people using the identity “bisexual” disagree.

In traditional dictionaries:

Homosexual is defined as “only attracted to the same sex”
Heterosexual is defined as “only attracted to the opposite sex”

So why then dismiss bisexuality as being about “only men and women” when the definitions of hetero- and homo- don’t mention those? And why don’t the critics of the word also have a go at people using “heterosexual” or “homosexual” on the grounds of the words being even more restricted?

In this modern age with a wider understanding of gender some people choose to re-state those as:

Homosexual- “attracted to people of a broadly similar gender”
Heterosexual – “attracted to people of a broadly different gender”
In fact many people say there are more than two genders, but if two options are either “similar to me” or “different to me” then it’s clear that “both” can refer to those two options rather than two perceived sexes.

The gay and lesbian scene is full of bisexuals, many of whom know it’d be socially awkward to come out about their true sexuality in a bi-phobic atmosphere. We’re all together in our attraction to people of the same or similar genders, and in the discrimination we face for being “them” from the homophobes. For decades we’ve marched together on Gay Pride, worked in gay bars, and we’ve all been bashed for not being straight. Bisexuality needs to be recognized as part of the LGBT movement, and should be welcomed as part of the struggle for acceptance and tolerance.

Bisexuals are the targets of bi-phobia, and homophobia too. LGB & T are not rigid sided boxes to stuff people into, they’re circles of overlapping light, they are a Venn diagram.

Bisexuals Can Be Faithful
Some people ask “How can someone attracted to more than one gender be faithful to a partner of one gender?” Quite easily! Being attracted to people isn’t cheating, did you know? Some people are attracted to more than one gender, some people to more than one skin color, or height, or body shape, or age group, or background.

Would a straight man attracted to both tall and short women be unable to remain faithful to a tall girlfriend? Would a lesbian woman attracted to both musicians and engineers be unable to commit to a guitarist?

Being bisexual isn’t what makes someone cheat. Wanting to cheat makes someone cheat.

Bisexuals Don’t Have To Date Both Men And Women
Some are in happy relationships with one partner, others have multiple relationships and some swap to dating the other sex whenever their current fling ends. Some bisexuals are happily married and raising children. Some bisexuals are single, some are celibate. You do not need to have ever have had sex to be bisexual. Some bisexuals enjoy casual sex, others don’t’ have sex outside committed relationships.

Bisexuality isn’t about whom you have sex with, or who you’re in a relationship with. It’s just about you – and the genders you are attracted to.

Bisexuality Isn’t An ‘Easy Option’
Some people think that bisexuals are just gay and lesbian people who don’t want to come out as gay or lesbian, as if saying you were bisexual would allow you to sidestep the prejudices and discrimination we face. It’s not an easier option.

My Partner Is Bisexual, What Should I Do?
On hearing their partner is bi, some people wonder if this means they’ll be unfaithful, or leave them for someone of a different gender, or if this means they’ve already been sleeping around during the relationship.

But being bisexual doesn’t mean these things – just as being attracted to a range of hair colours, or ages, doesn’t mean that either. You’re the one they’re with, you!

Bisexuality is real. It exists.

“Those Boys”

I’ve been a Backstreet Boys fan for over thirteen years. I can tell you the exact date of my very first concert and I can list in order all of the cities I’ve seen them perform. I can also say that every single time a concert day rolls around I wake up with this goofy grin on my face that sticks around all day and well into the night. Put simply, they make me happy.

I’ve endured all sorts of teasing for being a Backstreet fan. People have insulted me, insulted my fellow fans, and insulted the Boys themselves. Honestly, I’ve never understood why so many people think that it’s okay to be so damn rude. I may not like an artist that you like, but I’m sure as hell not going to pick on you for liking them. Why should I? People like what they like. I happen to like boy bands, big flippin’ deal. I also like pop, rock, rap, jazz, country, alternative, hip hop, folk, and a handful of other kinds of music too… but those aren’t as fun to pick on me about for some reason, right?

People have said I’m wasting my time and money on Backstreet. That “those Boys aren’t going to be there for you when you need something,” and “what have Those Boys ever done for you?” I’ll tell you what… Those Boys have been a huge part of my life. Those Boys may not have been sitting next to me holding my hand, but they most definitely were there for me during some of the worst times I’ve had in my life. Not to mention the unflinching support I’ve had from fellow BSB fans who I’ve known on and offline over the last 13 years. I can honestly say that if it weren’t for certain people who I would have never met had it not been for Backstreet, I don’t know if I’d be here today. Those girls were my support group when I needed it most, when some of my offline friends and family were too busy picking on me about Backstreet to even bother noticing how seriously messed up things were.

Over the years I’ve tried my best to let the so-called jokes roll off of my back. I’ve smiled and forced an “Oh you’re so funny” laugh to appease them because I learned early on that trying to defend myself doesn’t work. But to be completely honest, I hate it. I hate how people find it perfectly okay to pick on me simply because of one single band that I happen to love. I hate that people who say that they’re my friends find it so easy to openly hurt my feelings.

In 23 days I’ll be getting on a plane to fly to Miami. When I’m there I’ll be meeting two women who I’ve known for years but have never actually met in person. We’ll be staying in a hotel full of crazy Backstreet fans that night and then the next day we’re setting of on the 2011 Backstreet Boys Cruise. For four days we’ll be on a boat with Those Boys that we love so much. We’ll be surrounded by people who understand exactly how we feel (plus a few crazies who we simply won’t engage lol). For four days we’ll be in a Happy Backstreet World where absolutely no one will make fun of us. Okay, maybe some of the staff on the boat might roll their eyes, but seriously, they’re going to learn real fast that a boat full of Backstreet Fans is not the group of mofos you want to mess with.

It’ll be a trip of many firsts. My first time meeting so many of my Backstreet Buddies in person, my first trip to Miami, first cruise, first time in the Bahamas, first time outside of North America, first prom (theme night)… I’m excited. Every time I think about the cruise I get that stupid grin on my face that I get before a concert. By the time I get home from this trip I think my cheeks are going to hurt from so much grinning and laughing with my girls.

Have I mentioned however that I never, ever, ever wanted to go on a cruise? That I have a fear of being out in water that I can’t see across despite my love of water? How about that in a past life I supposedly knew someone who died on the Titanic and that fear of big gigantic boats has followed me to this lifetime? Yeah. Part of me is seriously freaking the hell out knowing that in 23 days I’m going to be on a cruise. Another part of me though is so insanely geeked that I can barely stand it. I can’t wait to see my girls and hug them in person after so many years. I’m excited to be somewhere warm and sunny and wonderful just as Michigan is about to head into the bitterly cold season. I’m geeked to be able to add new experiences to my life resume and have new stories to tell. And yeah, I’m pretty stoked to be spending time with Those Boys too (all FIVE of them!!!!!). So if you plan on making jokes at my expense, screw off. I’ve got my prom dress, a happy bottle of Ativan to hopefully ward of any panic attacks, and damn it I’m going to have a great time no matter what you say!

C is for Courage

I saw the movie The Help tonight with my mom. It was a great movie that certainly made me think about courage. Courage means something different to everyone, I think. It’s one of those things that is personal and changes according to the person dealing with it. To simply look the word up in the dictionary you’ll see this:

cour•age noun
1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.
2. Obsolete. the heart as the source of emotion.

I quite like the second definition actually… “The heart as the source of emotion.” That’s truly what courage is, isn’t it? Listening to your heart and knowing that it’s telling you the right thing even if you’re scared out of your mind or the world around you is telling you that you’re wrong.

Kathyn Stockett, the author of The Help submitted the book sixty times before getting it published by Putnam. Sixty rejection letters, countless rewrites, and yet she didn’t give up. Now she has not only a bestselling novel, but an Oscar-worthy movie based on that novel. Oh and did I mention it’s the first book she ever wrote? That’s courage.

The movie and book The Help are set in the 1960’s right in the thick of the Civil Rights Movement. At one point in the movie Medgar Evers is mentioned. He fought in World War II, fought for civil rights, was instrumental in the desegregation of the University of Mississippi, and was a NAACP field secretary. After his assignation by the KKK, he received full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery. He was courage.

On December 24, 1969, only six years after Evers was killed and one year after Dr. Martin Luther King ,Jr. was assassinated for his work in civil rights, a black man and a white woman were married. They faced hatred and bigotry from society as well as their own families, but they went on to have two children, a boy and a girl (said girl happens to be the author of this blog), and showed the world that love has nothing to do with race. They were courage.

People show their courage every day. Sometimes it’s huge, and other times it’s just some small thing that most of the world wouldn’t even notice. What matters though is what that act of courage means to you. If it’s important to you, no matter what anyone else says, it’s courage. If you make a choice that you know with all of your heart is the right thing to do, tell anyone else who thinks differently to screw off. It’s your life, not theirs. You know what your heart needs even when the world is telling you you’re crazy. You might even doubt yourself, but your heart knows exactly what you need while your head is busy trying to talk you out of it. Sometimes you just have to trust your heart to do the thinking. Take a leap and as the definition says, let your heart be the source of your emotion. Don’t give up on the book submission you know could be great, don’t accept laws that don’t make sense and fight to change them, don’t let people tell you who you can love, and don’t let someone else tell you that you aren’t courageous if you know that you are.