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.      

a little kick

Last night, well technically this morning (2am) there was a man trying to break into our home via the back door. Had he not been scared and chased off by our next door neighbor who was letting their dog out for a potty break he would have been successful. I was actually up and heard the noise at the back door, but at 2am you can somehow justify that the noises you are hearing are either the wind or a stray cat. Because really, who doesn't have a stray cat on their back porch trying to unlock the door? Had the guy made it in, he would have ultimately been disappointed in scoring any type of valuable loot. The tv in my bedroom is from 1999 and I'm just glad it shows in color. Even the flat screen in the living room came from a pawn shop- how ironic would that have been if it had just ended up back in one? I don't have a game system, an Ipad, or an Iphone. ( Really, my phone is like one step above a jitter-bug.) The only jewelry I own is a ring made out of a quarter from 1964, and it's worth more than what's in my bank account at the moment. Seriously, I'm changing my name to Insufficient Funds because that's what shows up on all of my bank paperwork anyway. Had I come face to face with the intruder I'd probably have just told him to go to the neighbors across the street because they have a lot nicer stuff.  

So today finds us gun shopping. No matter your belief about guns, I have no desire to be Nancy Grace's next 8 o'clock special. On some level I am hesitant about having a gun simply because anyone that knows me knows that when I speak I use my hands emphatically so God only knows where the barrel would end up while I'm yelling "Stop!" or more realistically "oh shit!" Irregardless, the time has come where I must upgrade my golf club and mace for something with a little more kick because I understand that last night's incident could have gone very differently. 

I'm not sure what has happened to this guy to make him turn to criminal activity. Maybe he has fallen on hard times, or maybe he's just bad news? Whatever the case, I hope he is able to find his way back to a path of giving instead of taking.  

anything

Yes it is the inevitable "Back to School" blog. As a former teacher, I can't help but get a little nostalgic during this time and miss my old classroom terribly. The room I had with peeling paint and some unidentifiable stains on the one-time-clean carpet. I don't miss the roaches though, those things were so big even they carried book bags. It definitely wasn't the dog eating anyone's homework, it was those damn roaches eating the assignment before the dog had a chance! But even with it's worn out facade, that room was filled with magic. Nothing could impede on the imagination and creativity that came forth so strongly that it made it's way out of the classroom, down the halls, and into the real world.
My first "a-ha" moment in life came from my Kindergarten teacher. We were all sitting in the floor in a semi-circle around her, and Mrs. McCombs simply stated "You can be anything you want to be when you grow up." She was the first person who made me believe that I really could be anything I wanted to be and that it would all be possible. Educators are the fuel that light the lamp of knowledge. That symbol of education that represents the search for unyielding wisdom.
 I never took an art class, but the Art teacher at my high school had a smile and kind word for me everyday as my locker was near her classroom. I was blessed with two of the most amazing Spanish teachers anyone could ever ask for who gave me an appreciation for culture awareness. I had a middle school History teacher who gave me a passion for politics and once I make it into office (because I can be anything), I will always think of her while listening to the constituents. Along the way there have been other educators, each making their impression upon my soul, each igniting that everlasting lamp of knowledge.
 May we welcome this new school year with hope and promise for the teachers and students. May the creativity outweigh the often outdated learning environments. And may every student believe they can be anything they want to be. Thank you Mrs. McCombs.  

curve ball

  "Never look down on someone unless you're helping them up."
When I did a brief stint working for HUD I had hundreds upon hundreds of clients in just one little town. And I knew that if I had that many, the much larger city just south of me had thousands. It could've been so easy to look across my desk and to tell my clients that if they'd just go back to school, or if they'd just get a job, or if they'd just stop having kids... ugh or any of those other hurtful stereotypical responses that spew from so many. I'm not completely blind to the fact that yes there are those who do abuse the system. They exist and they cast a negative shadow on the establishment of assistance. Those that have no desire to better themselves, or those that feel an entitlement of sorts. Personally I do not understand the mindset of said individuals, however I do understand that there are those who are truly in need of assistance.
I had elderly clients whose retirement savings were just not enough to get by. I had disabled individuals whose bodies betrayed them from earning income. I had clients who had found themselves with nowhere to turn. I had clients that consisted of all types of ethnicities and familial make-up. There was no status-quo. I received phone calls everyday from people losing their jobs and their homes. People that had never needed assistance before in their lives were now on the other side of my desk.
And now it is on the other side of that desk I could easily find myself. Three years ago I had a very ungraceful and unfortunate accident which has left me with a most inconvenient back injury. Thirty plus procedures later and the doctors have uttered the words "permanently disabled."  Since I was 14 I've held numerous jobs and careers. I have two collegiate degrees, yet all because of one ten second event I have been unable to work for the last three years. I stay on a concoction of narcotics and muscle relaxers because "all we can do is make you comfortable." And while the State, the insurance companies, and the lawyers continue to fight everything out, I have found that my retirement was not enough for me to stop working at 31.
I write this blog entry not for pity because despite what the doctors have said I have hope.I have to have it. I write this because I have seen so many posts recently putting others down and I just want to remind people that you never know about the curve ball life may throw you. I write this because the next time you drive by a government housing development, or you see someone paying with their EBT card, or you see someone coming out of the health department, I want you to think of what "curve ball" must have occurred in  that person's life instead of putting them down. You never know when you might end up on the other side of the desk. And really, is it that hard to just be kind to each other?

scrape

I am very fortunate that anyone will put up with me for 8 minutes let alone 8 years, alas it's true though because my partner has been with me for 8 years and tomorrow is her birthday. In the words of Ouiser from Steel Magnolias she "must be on some mission from God."
And ever if the words "opposites attract" were true, then that depicts us to a tee. We're ying & yang, light & dark, right & left - you get the picture. We really couldn't be any more different yet it works. While I'm reading Vogue she's reading Handyman's Workshop. If I were ever recruited to be on Survivor I'd want to take her as my one item. In the first 15 minutes of being on the island, she'd not only have a shelter built, but a row of condos. I on the other hand would have a sunburn and about three thousand bug bites. I don't do outside very well. In fact I don't do a lot well. I have attempted to cook, but then there was that call to poison control. I've tried to do laundry, but they're serious when they say to separate your lights and darks. I've even tried to hook up the dvd player, but those extra sparks were not supposed to be there. So I do what I can, which is um, well I'll get back to you on that.
Anyway, tomorrow is her birthday and while the cupcakes I will make her will undoubtedly be burnt, she will just scrape until she finds the good stuff- kinda like what she has done with me. I love you hunny bunny. Happy Birthday.