sir charlotte

"Hello Sir, Yes Sir, Can I help you Sir?" Yeap I get called Sir a lot. This week especially and so I decided why not write about it? I was even called "It" once by the nursing staff while having one of my numerous back procedures. That one I didn't understand because hello I was naked and if they couldn't tell that I had female anatomy, then maybe the nursing field shouldn't be in their line of work... I don't know maybe my name threw them since Charlotte is such a masculine sounding name?  
But I am ok when people accidentally call me sir. I mean the look of mortification on people's faces when they realize their faux pas is really quite amusing. I always tell them No Worries, but there's just no going back from it. It's kinda like when you congratulate a woman on her pregnancy but she's not actually prego- let's just say awkward.
I'm somewhat of a small stature. I'm just under 5ft 5in and I weigh in around 118lbs- maybe more if I eat pizza, smell pizza, or just look at a pizza box. Note to enemies, Italian food is my downfall. My body is not curvy, voluptuous, or any of those sexy words that women use to describe themselves. I'm not blessed by any means up top and my butt is kinda small. So basically I'm built like a 16yr old boy. Excuse me while I beat off all of these admirers. Currently my hair is short, but even when I've grown it out people just assume I'm a dude with hippie hair.
I'm often asked why is it that I don't wear girls clothes. Yes, people think it's ok to just look at me and then say "why are you dressed like a boy?"And I of course tell them because it's totally their business.
 In my younger days I mostly had girls clothes but I was fortunate to have an older brother so I could get away with swiping his shirts from time to time. But when I'd visit my mom's and she'd make me wear a dress to church it would devastate me. I was so uncomfortable and really I just looked like a little boy in a dress and if that doesn't make you popular in Sunday School nothing will. However for most of my youth I was able to dress in a mixture of both boys/girls clothing and if it got too boyish it could just be chalked up to me being a tomboy. However for one of my male cousins who wanted nothing more than to wear dresses, heels, and make-up, life was often cruel to him. He grew up to be almost 7ft tall, 300lbs, and makes his living as a professional drag queen. I don't think I'd be making fun of anyone in size 14 Prada heels.
In all honesty, I'm not sure that I can give a definitive answer that fits into a nice little box as to why I've always favored mens clothes. Some want to say it's because I'm gay, but then if you look at my partner she's all womens clothes and make-up. Mens clothing is definitely more comfortable, and just tends to fit my body correctly. I've never understood why we had to compartmentalize clothing to begin with. Why can't clothes just be called clothes? Just be glad that I wear clothes!
So I get called sir a lot, but if that's the worse thing I get called then I'll take it. And maybe the next time you see that guy carrying a purse or that woman wearing a tie you won't worry about why. You won't over analyze it or snicker at them. You won't call them It. You'll just think, well that's what makes them comfortable and at least they're not naked.      

Thanksgiving Plate

It's only taken me 22 days to finally sit down and think about what I'm thankful for. Everyday in November I see where people have posted that they are thankful for everything from bendy straws to electricity. Let's face it, bendy straws are freakn awesome! It kind of disturbed me that I should have to really sit down and think about what I'm thankful for. Have I finally succumb to the depression that threatens my existence due to my current status in life? No, I just have some serious attention deficit disorder so getting me to sit still and focus is the issue here. Oh look something shiny..
So I'll start off with the basics. I'm thankful for air, food, water- water that's mixed with hot chocolate. Hey if people can be thankful for bendy straws, then I get hot chocolate. I'm also thankful for strong, positive female role models like Harriet Tubman, Hillary Clinton, and Mannila Walker. You know that Dr. Seuss quote: 'To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world' - well that quote is kind of fitting to describe Mannila Walker.
Mannila was a soft-spoken woman of very meager means. At 44yrs old she had five children and a deceased husband; thus she had a cow and worked the ground to provide for her family. Everyday was a struggle but her children knew they were loved first and foremost. Clothes were made of feed sacks and lunches consisted of potato biscuits. Sweets and any extras were practically unheard of but it was one of the children's birthdays and she wanted to be able to make him a cake. She would need to walk at least 5 miles to get to the closest store. It was February 18th, 1960 in Boone, NC.
Mannila was successful in her journey to the store after the local postman saw her and offered a ride into town. After purchasing her groceries along with the coveted sugar and flour, she proceeded on her trek back home. The weather began to turn and that date would begin the Blizzard of 1960, one of the worst storms ever to hit the high country in history. It was three days later that her son saw a piece of Mannila's dress flapping in the wind exactly 100 yards from her front door. They would find the sack of groceries hid under a rock overhang for safe keeping. The children would be sent to an orphanage, never adopted out. The oldest girl would eventually run away at 17 only to return married so she could retrieve her siblings. A true testament to the determination that had been instilled in her by Mannila.
That oldest girl is now my mother-in-law and while she sits at the head of my Thanksgiving table, we have an empty plate at the other end. That plate represents Mannila's place. It serves as a reminder of the love that a woman had for her children. A woman who made the ultimate sacrifice in an act of trying to provide for her family. It is a symbol that maybe family is what we are most thankful for on Thanksgiving and every day.      

blanket

The other day a friend of mine was in the hospital having a colonoscopy/polyp removal procedure. Now it all sounded pretty crappy so I decided I would go to the hospital as well to offer moral support even though I really have no morals. Truthfully I was just hoping to score some of that hospital jello! My friend has a family history of cancer and these visits in particular are somewhat more taxing for her. So what better than to have me there, a klutz, that will hopefully not trip over her IV or unplug anything important? Forget about having white-coat syndrome, just make sure Char doesn't doodle on the medical chart or press any shiny buttons. In my defense I really did think that chain hanging in the bathroom was a way to flush the toilet -irregardless if it had the words Emergency Only on it. Hey, I've seen what goes in a commode and believe me sometimes it could constitute an emergency. In all seriousness, I was there because at one point in my life this particular friend was an extremely important part of my life. She was like a big brother to me and we were inseparable. Unfortunately last year we had a misunderstanding which caused a falling out of sorts between us. I've been told that I have a way with words, but it was my words in this instance that helped fuel the flame of indifference between us. Things are now somewhat awkward and even tense between us, but not only do I believe in forgiveness, I believe in owning up to being an idiot. And even though we both played a role in the rift, I wasn't going to let heavy air and unsaid apologies outweigh my being there for her procedure.
My friend was scheduled to be there at 7:45am and I'm not sure who had the worst end of that deal- her for having to be violated that early in the morning, or the doctor for having that be his early morning view. I know we've all worked with assholes, but this is... Anyway I'm certain that someone with an ist in their name realized that hospitals must be the exact temperature as Siberia in January due to some scientific reason for killing germs and all. However, why then do I usually get sick after visiting a hospital? But I'm not a scientist so anyway it was cold in there. My friend made it through her procedure just fine and while waiting for her discharge instructions, she looked over at my frozen self and then proceeded to take off her blanket and throw it at me. Now my rear-end has always been an "exit-only" portal (but I don't judge those that can find pleasure in that orifice) so I can't even begin to imagine the discomfort she was in and then couple that with her only having a hospital gown on in sub-zero temps. She just looked at me and said "take my blanket." I was dumbfounded. Here I am, we barely even talk anymore and you are giving me your blanket! Mark your calendars because I was speechless - which would've helped a year ago. I could not fathom why she would do this for me, clearly the morphine had not worn off. But no, she was lucid and there I sat with what felt like more than just a blanket around me- it felt a lot like love, and maybe even forgiveness.

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