Lesbian, Part 4,732

It’s amazing to me, I am still asked some of the weirdest questions about being a lesbian…so maybe I can wrap a couple of things up and put some of the mystery to rest.

1.   No, I don’t know where Jimmy Hoffa is buried.

2.   No, not everything in my home is rainbow themed.  In fact, I have two scarves that are rainbow, that’s IT…not even a rainbow magnet on the fridge.

3.   Not all lesbians pray at the altar of Melissa Etheridge or Pink.  Or Angelina Jolie.

4.   Nor do we all appreciate Indigo Girls.

5.   Still don’t have my wallet attached to a chain.

6.   we do not strip off nekkid and run around the yard every time there are more than 4 of us together…that’s saved for special occasions, like New Years, or Saturday nights.

7.   We do not all drink whiskey…however, I have met one or two that can prolly drink you under a table.

8.   yes, we know Ellen is gay, so is Portia.  So is Meredith Baxter (the mom from Family Ties).  So was Katherine Hepburn…we.are.everywhere…

9.   We don’t all want to actually BE men.

10.  It’s not a first date thing to pull up with a U-Haul and move it, that’s at least the second date.  Third if you’re really standoff-ish.

11.  Like Elvis, there are two stages of k.d.Lang appreciation, 90’s version and 2k version…either one rocks, so it’s basically just your personal preference.

12.  The chick standing next to you, is three beers and a pillow fight away from being “experimental.”

13.  There isn’t a secret handshake.

14.  Yes, the stripper grinding on you as you pay her for that lap dance, might very well be gay…you’re dumb ass just thinks you can score with her…but go ahead and give her another $20…she’ll be Mary Poppins if it will keep your wallet open.

15.  No, we don’t all own stock in all things Affliction or Ed Hardy…we leave that to the less fortunate.

16.  Last time, no, I’m not interested in your little swimmers, stop offering them.

17.  Last time, yes I still wear makeup. And carry a purse.  I’m also still scared of spiders.

18.  Last time, there isn’t a “man” in this relationship…kinda defeated the whole purpose of being a lesbian, yes?

19.  Last time, no, my kids aren’t gay.  Go ahead and ask them….I double dog dare you.

20.  For heavens sake…no, you can’t change me…and no, I really, REALLY don’t appreciate the offer…but thanks!

Perhaps the next a-hole that wants to be cute or funny can come up with some original questions.  I’m gonna get this shit printed on business cards and start stapling them to people’s foreheads.

Perhaps it shouldn’t matter because I don’t ask these questions of you…or maybe I have something you are lacking…they’re called manners.  You should get some.

Let’s just kick back, have a beer and think about other things, things we can fix…global warming, war in the Middle East or world hunger…

you just leave the heavy lifting to us dykes… 😉

Rules of Summer Living.

It’s that time of year…summer.  Kids wait for it all year, parents count the days until the next school year starts…so, in quiet sister/brotherhood of all parents, I submit the following rules…

(1) Yes, you can stay home.  By yourself.  No, I can’t take the summer off.  I have to work, sorta, to pay for your summer entertainment.  You will need to appreciate this time in your life….when you grow up, you too, will have to work…buckle up.

(2) No, I cannot create magnificent dishes for you to enjoy while I am working.  There is Nutella and Mac & Cheese….feel free to enjoy both.

(3) Yes, you will have chores.

(4) Yes, I understand you are on vacation….let’s consider this a “stay-cation” and pick up your room.  If I find anything on the floor, I will hold it hostage until the school year starts.

(5) No, 7:00 AM is not a bedtime.

(6) Yes, you will have a curfew.  And chores, did I mention chores?

(7) If you use every single towel in one afternoon of pool fun, you will wash, dry and fold said towels before midnight.  And suffer the wrath of Mommy Who Does the Laundry.

(8) Do not call Mommy allllllll day long at work.  I have a job, you are eating Nutella….shut up and appreciate your childhood.

(9) Do not sit in front of your Xbox all day and when I walk through the door expect me to feed you immediately, see #8 and enjoy.

(10) Every once in a while, get up from said Xbox and stretch.  If you spend the summer hunched over a gaming console, you will look like the only freshman Quasimodo.  Go outside, get some fresh air.

(11) Putting the fan in front of the window does not constitute fresh air.

(12) You will need to do the following on a daily basis:
Brush you teeth.
Put on clean clothes.

(13)  I am sure, your horrible teachers will give you summer homework. It’s their summer “fun”.  We’re adults, we can do so… Suck it up, you will do this homework and read, so I do not have to send you to Pre-K before your freshmen year starts.  Nor will you wait until the night before school starts to cram it all in.

(14)  Do not EVER tell me you are bored.  You have Xbox, Wii, 800 cable channels, a pool, a bike, friends in the neighborhood and a park with a basketball court at the end of the street.  Telling me you are bored will get you more chores, such as cleaning baseboards and toilets.  Take your chances if you feel lucky.

(15) Have fun, stay safe.  We are proud of you….


Parents, I will pray for all of us this summer.  And it’s only 90 days or so until the next school year.  I am already planning a day off once school starts to recover, count.on.that!!!!



Gay 101.

So, a few years ago, I came out.  Seven years to be exact.  Do I think I was born gay?  Maybe.  I don’t know.  I do know however, I was born a girl.  I became “enlightened” later in life and honestly, I now wonder…what the hell took me so long???

Alas, not everyone is “enlightened” or further, even knowledgeable about the Gay Thing, so I am gonna give you a couple hints:

  1. If you are trying to be “cutting edge” or “trendy”….gay is not the way you should go.  This lifestyle isn’t “trendy”….it’s not easy.  You run the risk of friends and family cutting you off.  If you want “trendy or cutting edge,” go color your fucking hair…stay away from gay…
  2. My name is Stephanie.  Calling me dyke, lesbo, fag, muncher of any kind, scissor sister, U-Haul, lipstick, etc…will get you ignored.  I could care less what you call me.  You’re the idiot acting like a third grader….not me.
  3. I didn’t wake up one morning, look at the Respondent and decide to be gay.  Although, he did completely turn me off of men…the gay wasn’t his fault.
  4. No, I didn’t cut my hair when I got the gay….I cut the hair off in honor of two friends that lost loved ones and donated it to Locks of Love.  But I do hope you feel like a dick for asking.
  5. No, I prolly won’t grow it back out.  I actually get more compliments the shorter I go and have folks walk up and ASK to touch it.  Had a lady at Hobby Lobby go get her friend to show her my hair.  And another one trot across a parking lot to ask me how I did my hair, who cut it and was it my natural color….yep….this short shit is staying…
  6. I still wear makeup.
  7. And a bra.
  8. No, I don’t own a motorcycle….well, I sorta do…the wife has one and she is amazingly hot when she rides it…wowza!!!
  9. No, my wallet is not attached to a chain.
  10. I wear flip flops, almost exclusively, not work boots.
  11. I wear girly jewelry.  I love my diamonds.  Specifically, my mother-in-law’s ring that was given to me on our anniversary.
  12. Yup….legally married.  Got the certificate and last name to prove it.  Suck an egg if you don’t like it.
  13. Kids aren’t gay.  It’s not contagious and it’s not a special ingredient I can add to dinner….the kids are alright.
  14. We don’t eat babies and not all of us are looking for a sperm donor, so calm down.  And quit volunteering your swimmers.
  15. We don’t do virgin sacrifices…well, not on your first visit.
  16. I don’t want your wife, girlfriend, best friend….I have the best wife, I have the world’s best bestie and I am no longer allowed to have a girlfriend.
  17. No, you can’t convert me.  In fact, even the mere thought of you trying…actually makes me more gay.

Yes, I’m gay.  I can deal with it.  It’s not really my problem if you can’t.  No, I am not going to put it in your face, but I am damn sure not gonna hide it either.

It’s 2012.  When there are folks into some really freaky shit….quit worrying about me.  And specifically what I do behind closed doors.  That would be between me and one other person….MY WIFE.

you gots any other questions…hit the worldwideweb….it’s full of answers…

4 Door Yugo.

My dad, or as I call him, The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread, was a dork of the highest order.  And he one time, probably 20 years ago, told me a joke that would leave me in tears.  I would laugh until my face hurt.  And every time I told it, it was almost impossible for me to get through it.  I would laugh, knowing the punchline.

Most of my friends, God love them, thought it was probably the stupidest joke ever told.  But they would laugh…some because it’s the polite thing to do…some, because I have been told, I have an infectious laugh and they would laugh at my reaction, they would laugh with me for moments on end.  Laugh at the stupidest joke I have ever heard…

“What do you call a 4-Door Yugo?”

“A WE-go!!!”

Get it?

For those that don’t know….a Yugo was a tiny little two door car in the 80’s before Smartcars.  And usually yellow or brown.  Kinda like the Pinto of its day….



sorry….it became such a “signature” of mine that the Respondent, for my 31st birthday got me personalized plates for my Blazer that said “WEEGO.”  (Yes, dumbass spelled it wrong, but it was the thought…only he didn’t renew them and I only had them one year…dick)

Fast forward 10 years….I still find it funny, but it’s less funny because I have to explain what a Yugo is and with the invent of the Smartcar…well….it’s not as funny…

But leave it to my bestie to step it up a level.  She’s an idiot after my own heart.  So a couple of days ago, the iPhone goes off with a text from my bestie.  It says, “You are the only one I know that would fully appreciate this:”

I am telling you, I laughed for 10 minutes.  It’s the cutest thing I have ever seen….I have shown it to everyone and amazingly, I get the same stare, you know, the Wego stare…”why are you laughing so hard?  ok, I’ll join…”

Tell me this isn’t cute….?

Tell me this isn’t funny…?

and when I am cranky and put it out on my Facebook (I tend to get bitchy and snarky in comments lately) the bestie types two words on the post….

General Wee!!!




A few weeks ago, a friend of mine posted on her blog about her tribe.  And honestly, I haven’t stopped thinking about the tribal concept.

When I google “definition of tribe” the first thing that pops up is:

1 Tribe:

a: a social group comprising numerous families, clans, or generations.

Now, I paraphrased that, simply because the last part of the sentence mentioned slaves and strangers and neither of these remotely figure into my thought process.

I come from a relatively small-ish clan.  And that’s okay.  I felt I grew my clan with my friends, close friends that I trust, that have my back as much as I have theirs.  I was okay with that.  Still am.

Only, my tribe, I realize, is much smaller than I thought it was.  Again, I am okay with that.  Follow me…

I have work friends, party friends, friends of friends.  Long distance friends, around the corner friends.  Life long friends and family friends.  It’s not a matter of having plenty of friends. 

It’s a matter of those that I think have my back, only to show me they don’t or further, stab me in the back.

That makes me sad.  And even sadder, to know the great amounts of pleasure they have in that.  Sad, mad and hurt.

Several years ago, I reached out to someone who quickly became what I believed that the time would be a life long friend.  This person made me laugh out loud, shaking my head in disbelief at their shennaigans.  The stuff only they could get into and stuff that I could mock them unmercifully for.  They knew I loved them, trusted them and shared my secrets with them.

A couple of years ago, this friend devastated me.  They walked away without a goodbye, fuck you, so long, good luck!  Just, wham!…and as much as I have recovered from it, I haven’t.  To this day, it hurts.  It hurts because I didn’t do anything different from I do now.  I am still the person I was.  And they made me feel wrong.  I allowed them to walk on my feelings…and days like today, when I get down and think of them…they win.  But only for a moment…

I give this person a moment, just to win….then I remember…they walked away from me.  Not the other way around.  They didn’t have the balls to talk to me.  I would have listened.  I did when they came to me ONE TIME and we cleared the air, I thought…only the things about me that were bothering them…was a reflection in the mirror of what was bothering me about them.

I realize now, it was a very one-sided friendship.  They called when they needed me to get them a date, to host a party for them, to write a funny blog about them, to be there when they were down….but the one time I really reached out, because I was lost, I needed to talk to someone about a deeply troubling situation, they were not there.  They were lacking.  And I was used. 

So, walk away.  Be gone.  I am better off without you and have learned oh-so-many things that I didn’t know about this person, that at this point, I probably would be the one to walk away. 

Doesn’t take the sting away.

Fast forward…in my last two breakups, I lost friends.  I lost a lot of friends.  I don’t count my friends or my popularity by how many folks are on my Facebook….no, these were party friends….folks who came to my house, had a good time, ate, drank and were merry with endless hours of water volleyball….I honestly can say, I don’t miss them.  Not for one moment.  And it’s okay; they think about me about as often as I think of them.  I don’t wish them ill, but I am sure, based on the pack of bullshit they’ve been told, they wish very bad things on me. 

Well, those would be unanswered wishes, because I am blessed, blissful and very happy and content.  The peace in my life that was missing has found me and I am grateful for it every day. 

It’s not my loss you walked away.  That would be yours.  I am stronger for it.  Trust me.  And very few have gotten a second chance….in fact, I can think of one…well two, I have to include his Mr. 

I have made some new friends, to supplement the TWO I walked away from my last relationship with.  And very early on, I learned to adore these people.  They were new to me, I was new to them and they are amazing folks.  I laugh harder than I thought I could, I smile more and they make me very happy.  My life is full.

Here’s the rub…I have started wondering how many of these people are in my tribe? 

I am the world’s worst at returning a phone call, or even picking the phone up to call.  I am probably one of the shittiest friends in the world, but I know my heart is in the right place and for those I consider in my tribe, I would be there in a heartbeat, with only one phone call.  It’s not one-sided at all, but it is a two-way street and I will give as good as I get.

I have long said I will protect those that I consider my family.  If you crossed someone I am genetically tied to or someone who I consider my family, I will come out swinging and you will walk away with a limp.  Don’t mess with my tribe.

I know who I consider to be my tribe, but the question is, am I part of their tribe?  See, it doesn’t work if we aren’t on the same side, if I say I will follow you into battle, can you look at me and tell me the same?

Just because we don’t talk everyday, every week or even every month, doesn’t mean when the chips are down, I won’t be there.  I need to know if I am stuck on the side of the road, I won’t have to scroll through my phone doing a roll call to get someone to help me.  I need to know that my battle is your battle. 

I know there is an ebb and flow to everything.  Even friendships.  Sometimes they need to be stronger, sometimes they can take a back burner to this thing called life…but at the end of the day…who’s in the tribe?  Can I get a raise of hands?

I treat my friendships like relationships, they all take work, they all deserve love and respect.  I can honestly say that I love my friends, ALL of them, to my core.  I want to spend time with them, share moments with them, create memories and nurture these relationships.

I get the feeling, with some folks, I am alone in this.  Did I upset someone?  Say something wrong?  How can I fix it?  Do I say something?  Do I risk it?  Or do I shut it down, brush it off and just deal with it on my own? 

I don’t know right now and it angers me.  It hurts me and it makes me sad. 

How awkward is it…to tell someone you think of them one way, only to have them not think of you in the same manner?  To think that you have this deep friendship, only to realize that it’s one sided…or worse, not know at all, going blindly along that you are closer to a person than you really are and things aren’t how you saw them?  I don’t like looking like a fool and I don’t want anyone I know to feel foolish.

If my best friend, my Kenner, for one moment made me feel like something was amiss…I would walk through fire to correct it.  Yet I know, she would tell me, straight up, as only Kenner can, how the rubber met the road.  Her bullshit level is low and I respect the hell outta that girl for it.  Out of everyone in my world, short of the wife, I know EXACTLY where I stand with my Kenner and I am a better person for it.

Yep, I may be a small tribe, but that’s okay….there’s always an opening…

My Grand Day.

It’s Friday, I wanna be at work.  I thought taking the day off to care for a sick family member would be easy…I wanna be at work…NOW!!!

So…it’s Spring Break….should be a week of fun for kids and exhaustion for parents…

The Boy and the Niece went to gramma’s for the week…where upon all children (there’s about 7 of ’em) that run around and play together….got a virus. A 24 hour bug, if you will…

Today is the Niece’s turn to have it.  At my house.  Whee!!!

The Sister just started a new job and couldn’t take off, the gramma is sick, my uncle is in the hospital and the Boy is doing his best to hold food down…so it was up to me to take care of the Niece….not a big deal…I got this.

Only….this child can puke.  Alot.

The sister and the niece get to my house early….the deal was, I would go to work for a few hours and the Daughter would stay up with the Niece for a couple of hours.  I asked her last night, before she went out.  Repeat, BEFORE SHE WENT OUT…

well….7:30-ish rolls around…and I can’t get the Daughter up.  Hangovers do that….

SO the sister hands me a pair of shorts that were in the front yard when she walks in.  (will be important soon) and the Niece got sick on the ride over…with the Sisters driving, who can blame her….so we change her, get her laid on the couch and all is well…

For a couple of hours….then we hear someone from the Daughters room, offering anything to the porcelain gods to make it stop…

Puke #2 of the Day….

All quiets down and then the 21 year olds leave after they explain the evening in which the Daughter won a chugging contest, on the bar…and the friend ended up shortless in my front yard (‘member?).  I am 41, I quit asking questions…I prolly don’t want the answers.  At.All.

….so I make the Niece a bland lunch….and we settle in to pay-per-view Mr. Popper’s Peguins.

Bland is bad.

In 7.3 minutes she looks at me….runs for the bathroom and well….BAM!

Puke #3 of the day…

Second time today that I have washed clothes….this time we added a bathroom rug.

The daughter and the friend have returned with chicken and rice.  They are hungover….they are still piecing the night together…they realize that they have to wash the Daughter’s bedspread, the car, the Daughter (friend puked on said Daughter) and they stand up to gather items to go wash…(my washer is busy, ‘member?)

Right then…the smallest of the pups sneaks in, ninja-like to the Daughter’s room and steals a chicken tender.  It’s as big as she is.

Does anyone NOT know that you don’t steal chicken and rice from hungover 21-year olds?  Cause Bella didn’t get the memo…she takes off hauling ass into the yard, with her tender, intent on NOT sharing with any of the other pups, who are hot on her trail.

Keep up folks, I have a puking 8-year-old, a puking 21 year old….washer running, a chicken tender stealing dog and two other dogs ganging up on the little on with the tender…

I wanna go to work.

So I text the sister to tell her that I am impressed with the Niece’s manners while puking and that the Daughter’s friend has also been puking, so it’s been an exciting day.  She laughs.  At me.  Over a text.  Did I mention the sister is a dick?  JUST kidding!!!

So I text the wife to tell her much the same.  She laughs.  At me.  Over a text.  Did I mention the wife is a dick?  JUST kidding!!!


Early Morning Dialogue.

Funny will strike at anytime.  Today, it was at 6AM and went like this:

Telephone ringing…LOUDLY.  (We both jump out of bed and stare at the phone like it just sprouted arms and legs before the Wife answers it, doing her best not to sound asleep….)

the Wife:  “Hello?”

the Wife’s Chief: “Are you at work yet?”

tW: “uh, no.”

tWC: “Why NOT?”     {in the most surprised innocent voice}

{insert me snorting with laughter, it caught me so off guard}


tW: “Cause I was asleep?” She’s not even sure right now…


tWC: “When will you be in?”

the Wife, rubbing her eyes, staring blankly at the clock that says 6:01 AM…

tW: “uh…soon…”

not really sure why it struck me so funny, but I am STILL giggling and repeating the whole “Why not?”….just because it was so random and awkward…