Candy

And so today finds us at Halloween, All Hallows Eve. When I was a kid my mom made me watch the Adam Walsh story which scared the shit out of me and all I could think was don't talk to strangers- but because it's Halloween that gives stranger danger a free pass. Not only do we knock on their doors, we take their candy! I always figured though if someone were to kidnap me they'd bring me back due to my inability to behave. They'd get a much better deal if they took my brother, he was the good child. I couldn't even manage to do trick-or-treating right. When we were about 8 my brother was the ghostbuster and I was the ghost. He had the brown suit and the jet pack (which was a covered cereal box and a dryer hose) while I had a half a sheet thrown over me with randomly placed eye holes. I'm trying not to see the favoritism in this. Anyway, back then after you went out, you then went to the hospital and they would x-ray your candy because what's a little radiation with your ten thousand calories? Of course me not being the child that listened, I just had to keep sneaking candy which I could do successfully due to my sheet so it didn't take long before all of those candy bars began getting to my delicate digestive system. We were sitting in the back seat of the car heading to the next neighborhood when I realized everything I had eaten was going to make a reappearance. So being me, I grabbed my brother's little orange pumpkin and proceeded to toss my cookies, or more like toss my candy in his bucket effectively ruining his Halloween haul. Needless to say that put an end to our evening festivities because there's only so much one of those little pumpkin buckets can hold and well, so much for my brother having the best costume after all. My brother really did get gypped that year because I couldn't even make it up to him by giving him my candy since I had been secretly packing it away all night. I should send him some candy.
And then there was the year that some nut job decided to jump out from the bushes to scare us while we were on the door stoop causing me to urinate. I guess the irony is that I went as a mummy that year and I was wrapped in toilet paper so you'd think I would've been ok. If you can't stand the smell of puke in the car, well sitting beside your urine soaked sister isn't much better. Yeah, I really should send my brother some candy.
Shocker, but Halloween has never been my favorite holiday. Maybe it's because of these two traumatic experiences or maybe it's because my mom gave me the gift of paranoia. I'm literally that person that checks their backseat before getting into the car. And I don't do scary because my bladder is obviously incompetent when it comes to being frightened. However, All Hallows Eve is upon us and I wish everyone a safe and Happy Halloween!  

just friends

My last blog entailed an abbreviated version of my sexuality awareness as well as my coming out of sorts. In response to that entry, I had someone ask me to tell the story of how it was I met my partner Tina- clearly the best day of her life for sure! Anyway, so I present you with the "story of us" also known as "Char thinks she has swagger but really doesn't."
I had just finished my first year of teaching and I was working a retail job during the summer months because you all know how wealthy teachers are. A friend of mine at said retail job asked me if I'd like to befriend one of her friends who had just recently came out. I of course had no qualms about helping someone out- no pun intended- and I was assured that it wasn't a set-up, just you know show her where all the gay places are kind of thing. My friend then proceeded to show me a picture of said gay newbie and after I put my tongue back in my head, I was dialing up her digits to arrange dinner plans. Initially Tina was somewhat hesitant, and I'm sure now there are days that she had wished she had stayed steadfast in that shyness. However, because I am totally smooth I told her that "you gotta eat" - yes those were my exact suave words to her to convince her to have dinner with me. So we made the time/place arrangements and I was to be on the lookout for one leggy feminine brunette in a grey van. I wasn't going to judge, cougars were in. Truth was her car was in the shop.
As I scan the parking lot prior to going into the restaurant I see a dilapidated grey serial killer van pull in. The woman that proceeds to get out of the sketchy vehicle has a buzzed head, sleeveless NASCAR t-shirt, homemade cut-off jean shorts, and a long cigarette hanging from her mouth. First off, if you smoke that's your business, I just personally do not prefer to lick an ashtray if there's a possibility that I'm going to kiss you. Secondly, this woman scared the hell out of me not solely due to her fashion choices, but she looked like she could kick my ass. I swear there was a chain gang missing a member. I will admit that I was a much more shallow person back then and I had half a mind to high tail it out of there. But then I thought how callous of me for even thinking that I should judge this book by it's cover. Clearly if this was indeed Tina, if she had somehow went beyond butch since that photo of her had been taken, then that was ok. It's hard enough to be gay as it is without being judged for your outward appearance as well. So as I was entering the vestibule of the restaurant, another grey van was pulling into the parking lot. I have no idea who that other woman was, but it was clearly not Tina. Nope, my dining companion for the next three hours was indeed all legs, long brown hair, and riveting blue eyes that clearly told me that my own eyes should be brown. Yeap, she saw right fast that I was a complete dork with nerdy glasses that talked too much. Since we were meeting as friends, there was no pressure although the whole time all I could think about was how she wouldn't taste like an ashtray. Much to my surprise she agreed to continue hanging out with me and eventually while at a concert I got dunk enough to finally kiss her, because what's better than ashtray- beer breath. My philosophy was that if she didn't reciprocate then I could blame it on the booze- I have mad skills! We won't mention how later that evening due to my intoxicated state I fell completely into a water fountain and had to ride home sans clothing with only a blanket. Irregardless that was the night we officially started dating and now 8 years later I still have no idea how I landed such an amazing woman that was just supposed to be a friend.  
 

Coming Out

I'd have to say my first crush was most certainly Wonder Woman, err Diana Prince. I didn't want to be Wonder Woman, nope I wanted to hug her- alot! As an adult, I can totally see why Lynda Carter would be the one and the Lasso of the Truth of the matter is that I was most definitely gay.

My favorite childhood movies were The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas and Flashdance. We won't even begin to analyze how inappropriate it is that I was able to watch said films at such an early age, but I am forever grateful for that lack of parental judgement on my parents' part.

I detested dresses, make-up, and instead wanted to wear boys' clothes and play army in the woods. I wanted Hot-Wheels and GI Joes to play with- Lady Jane was my favorite ;) In the 5th grade I wanted spiked hair like Roxette. I instead received a complete buzz cut by a very inexperienced hair dresser, but instead of being upset I relished in having the almost non-existent locks. Unfortunately my father was extremely displeased and we went immediately to purchase a hat and have both of my ears pierced. By the time the 6th grade rolled around I had a freaking perm and although my ears were still pierced I refused to wear earrings in both ears- such a rebel. 

It wasn't until the 8th grade when I really started noticing that I was noticing girls. There was this one that really grabbed my attention and I was scared to death. I always knew I was different, had a quirky personality, bookworm, tom-boy, but the revelation that I was attracted to another girl was something I had to push down. Needless to say I did not come out in high school. In fact the only guy I had any notions of romance with just celebrated his 9yr anniversary with his very male partner. And that girl from the 8th grade, well she's now happily involved with another female- damn I should've trusted my young gay-dar! 

No, I didn't come out until I was in college. Initially I told my best friend whose reaction was to tell me that I was going to Hell. He's the same best friend that just celebrated his 9yr anniversary. But all is forgiven because my coming out helped him with his and he will always be the Will to my Grace, or more like Jack. The next friend I told decided to tell my minister who then also proceeded to tell me that I was going to Hell. It's like the number one answer for homosexuality here in the south. Irregardless I was told to either choose the church or be gay. I tried to explain that it wasn't a choice, and they would no longer be receiving my tithes. Fortunately I had a very dear college professor who told me that I wasn't going to Hell and it allowed me the freedom to to live without fear. When I told my mom it was on Mother's Day. Now that's a gift she'll remember more than flowers. She was not surprised and initially supportive. As she has grown more religious she has opted to say that although she loves me and my partner very much, our way of life is is in God's hands. Ouch, but I will not argue with her if that is what she has to believe to find peace in her heart. Let me be clear, my mom has not wavered in her love for me or my partner, she just struggles with the idea of homosexuality a bit from a religious standpoint. Coming to terms with being gay was one of the hardest things I ever had to do because of the level of intolerance there is. I tried very hard to not be a lesbian. You could even say that I tried to "lay the gay away" because I slept with more men than I care to think about. My nickname was easily 32 flavors because I tried every race and ethnicity.

 Of course I lost some family and friends due to nonacceptance but all in all I have been very fortunate with my coming out experience. However, not everyone is and it was 15yrs ago on October 7th when Matthew Shepard was beat mercilessly and died a few days later. He was "out" and it cost him his life. October 11th is National Coming Out day and it is my hope that if any of you are on the receiving end of someone's coming out, that you will react with compassion and love even if you have issues with the idea of homosexuality. We are people first, then we are gay.   

#PrayForDalton

Lately NC has received a lot of negative publicity. Whether our state is on the news due to The Justice Department suing NC because it claims a new state law discriminates against minorities, or because of  the reports of NC Rep. Mark Meadows and his August letter signed by members of congress demanding Speaker Boehner to use a government shutdown, or to the ABC 20/20 investigative report that showed numerous NC law enforcement officers excessively exceeding speed limits, not to get to a crime scene, but to get to an honest-to-God doughnut shop. One officer was actually on his way to teach a class because he was the driving instructor- shaking my head.
But NC has also been in the news for a very different reason as well. Last Friday the community of Statesville/Iredell County learned that a 16yr old high school football player had been diagnosed with liver cancer. Although Statesville boasts about 25k residents, it is a tight community and where I have spent most of my life.
When the news of Dalton's cancer came out, an unprecedented united front of supporters came forward. Iredell County became encased in Carolina Blue (Dalton's favorite color) and then the color spread across the country and overseas. There are pictures of people who have never met Dalton or his family showing their support by wearing t-shirts, displaying signs, and sending cards. There is a social media blitz via facebook and twitter with #PrayForDalton. Rivalry teams are now made up of friends, and Dalton is showing us all what is important in life.
When I was 17 I worked with Dalton's mom (Geri) at a local clothing store. She was pregnant with Dalton at the time and I was scared to death she would go into labor on my shift. I had seen that Miracle of Life video in school and I had no desire to pass out again. Years later, Dalton would be a student at the Elementary school that I taught at. He has one of those smiles that can light up a classroom and he's so full of positive energy that you can't help but love the kid.
Cancer is a vicious disease. It does not limit itself to age, color, or gender. Dalton is strong, his family is strong, and the community around him is strong. I am not a religious person, but I would be lying if I did not say this unyielding movement of support for Dalton has not made me hit my knees and pray for his family. I love you Geri Edwards and dedicate my simple blog to you in honor of your birthday and in honor of your Dalton.
So while NC may be dominating the national news for other reasons, a small town called Statesville is doing amazing things for an amazing boy. #PrayForDalton

order up

Clearly it was my turn to cook so we found ourselves at a fast food joint. Although I have been trying to learn how to cook I am barely one step above opening a can and heating. Even ramen noodles can be quite tricky for me.
Anyone that knows me knows that I am a terribly picky eater- kind of hard to believe I'd eat fast food, but I had coupons. When I order I always have to alter the dish in some form or fashion. If you've ever seen When Harry Met Sally and remember Meg Ryan ordering- no not that scene- but the one where she's ordering pie, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnlm2e3EN78 well that's me. For example if I order a cheeseburger I have them put ketchup/mustard on it but then I scrape it off because I only want the flavoring of the condiments. I only want the ends of the tomato because I can't stand the seeds or the wet insides. Same goes for pickles. Sometimes I order the burger but have the meat taken off because once again, I just want the flavoring. Other quirks I have are: any meat I east must be super thin, my food can't touch, and I have an unnatural fear of mayonnaise. I seriously tell food establishments that I'm allergic to it so they won't put it anywhere near my food. Hey, everyone has their demons and mine is mayo- don't judge.
It's actually odd that I'm so picky with my food because growing up we were happy with government cheese and anything else food stamps would provide. Tina (my partner) has told me repeatedly how incredibly ridiculous I am with my food idiosyncrasies. One of my favorite cereals is Special K but when it went up to $4 a box she decided to buy the off brand instead. Unbeknownst to me she placed the off brand in an empty Special K box and don't you know I was looking all over that damn box for the words "New & Improved" because I couldn't figure out what Kellogg's had done to make their cereal so much better. She had her fun watching and listening to me go on about how happy I was Special K had decided to make their flakes bigger and crispier before finally busting out into a fit of laughter at my expense. I'm just wondering what else has she fed me?
Ok, so we're at the restaurant and because of my complex ordering it is not a new experience to me when my order comes back incorrect. To me, it's not a big deal. I actually expect my order to be wrong just because there are so many alterations and the restaurant always fixes it so no worries. However, the dude in front of me evidently does not have that same easy-going attitude. The guy comes barreling up from his table and unpleasantly pushes himself past me so that he may lean across the counter and demand a manager. When the manager arrives, the disgruntled man proceeds to literally shove his receipt in the manager's face belittling and screaming the staff because there was lettuce on his sandwich. Ok first off he didn't even buy a real chicken sandwich, he bought the $0.99 one made out of unidentifiable compressed something so he should've been happy there was lettuce because at least it's organic. I was completely appalled by his degrading behavior towards the manager, and totally impressed with how the manager just stood there, listened, and was nothing but complacent with the man. The manager could have handled things very differently and no one in line would have thought less of him because the customer was completely out of line with his "you put lettuce on my sandwich" tantrum. After his order was corrected and he sat back down, I walked over to his table and stated these words of Martin Luther King Jr: "If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."
I then proceeded to tell him, that even though that man may just be a fast food manager to him, he handled himself as a great street sweeper and he could learn a lesson on how to conduct himself properly from someone whom he thought was so beneath him. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly my message did not resonate with the irate man. However, I let it be known that no matter someone station, everyone's job is important.

choosing life is hard

September 8th kicked off National Suicide Prevention Week and World Suicide Prevention Day is September 10th. Being mentally, physically, and sexually abused on a daily basis up until I was 18yrs old, there were plenty of times when I thought suicide was my only option. If I could just make it all stop then I'd never have to deal with any of it ever again. God how I hated hearing that last school bell ring because I knew what I was going home to.
Suicide had it's appeal, but somewhere inside of me I wasn't going to let what was happening to me win. My body may have been abused, but I would not allow my soul to be taken as well. Choosing to live really is the hard way. Now that I'm older and no longer in that situation there are still triggers, nightmares, bouts of self worthlessness. However there is also laughter, love, and friendships.
I've recently spoken with a youth who has also questioned her ability to go on due to the bullying she receives. She often "self-harms" or cuts herself as her coping mechanism and while I told her that I am by no means a professional, I could tell her that she has worth, that who knows who she will grow up to be, whose lives will she touch in the future? One of my mantras is "Life will not always be this way."I had to tell myself that growing up, and even now there are some days when those words are enlightening.
So this week I encourage everyone to get involved with helping for Suicide Prevention Week. One of my favorite organizations is The Trevor Project www.thetrevorproject.org that deals predominately with LGBT youth. There's also the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention www.afsp.org who helps with understanding/coping and preventing suicide.
And because there are so many out there like me who would have never contacted an organization, just be nice to those around you. Give of yourself, show kindness, and truly love one another.

fashion in the field

Last weekend I was invited to attend the Happy Valley Fiddlers' Convention which takes place in a cow field- nope, I'm not lying. And it's not so much that a cow field is so unusual to me, I live in NC and I went to a high school where tractors were considered "first cars" and cow patty bingo was an actual fund-raising activity. Just wrap your mind around that for a second. If the cow relieves himself in your square, you are the winner... Anyway I truly loved my high school and the memories made there, but as I have gotten older I realized my heart has always belonged to the city. Nothing makes me happier than being immersed in the hustle and bustle beneath towering sky scrapers. And oh how I am deeply in love with fashion! I dream in Dior and believe that Coco Chanel is the 8th wonder of the world. The Devil Wears Prada is not only one of my favorite movies because Meryl Streep is so Haute in it, but because the clothes are just as much a character in the film as well.

 This being said, you can imagine my skepticism to attending a function where hay would be one of the main attractions. Immediately I allowed every stereotype to enter my mind. I was about to embark on a journey of hee-haw proportions.Would there be out-houses? Would there be full sets of teeth? As we approached the venue I whispered to my partner- "Don't let them know we're gay because rope doesn't look good on anyone." Normally when attending functions I embrace bow ties and dress shirts, however, I decided on my most inconspicuous A&F ensemble of a t-shirt and cargo shorts. Besides, I've never seen Tim Gunn wearing overalls so I wasn't about to. I did wear a toboggan to complete the look because accessories are what tie an outfit together. 

Alas, I could have been wearing a paper bag for all anyone cared because the focus of that function was one of pure harmony amongst the musicians as well as the attendees.It was an atmosphere where surprisingly there were all walks of life and economic statuses- we weren't even the only gays there! And while there was plenty of hay, tractors and overalls, there were also port-a-johns with antibacterial soap, full sets of teeth, food from hotdogs to prime-rib, and most importantly, friendliness. We were embraced by those around us who even held our hands as we participated in the cake walk and square dancing. We took a hayride along the river, and I even hung out with a band backstage.

 And although this Eva Gabor has no desire to go all Green Acres, it was definitely an experience that left me feeling richer. My heart still beats for the city, but there is a small piece of my soul at the base of a mountain in a cow field.