Day 4: Not a Stellar Start

I did not like high school, but of my 4 years trapped in that institution of learning my junior year was the best of a bad lot.  I fell in love with a boy named Randy.  The year was hearts, flowers, and learning the periodic table. I was not the only one falling in love.  Unbeknownst to anyone else Natalie was also in deep with one of my classmates, Mollie.  I knew Mollie fairly well, we ran with the same crowd, the nerd crowd. 

 

Once a year Mollie would have a bonfire at her house and all the nerds would converge on her backyard.  This year Natalie was also there and it really was one of the first times I interacted with her in a social setting.  I noticed immediately she was aloof and sharp tongued, not someone I felt comfortable around.

 

Our group had a habit of playing spin the bottle whenever we were together with no adults around.  Not long after the s'mores were eaten the bottle came out and Mollie said, "You know who I want to kiss," to the bottle and spun it with a flourish.  I don't remember who got picked first, but I do remember at one point in the game Mollie's spin landed on Natalie and they jokingly kissed each other.  I did not think anything about it.  I was too busy kissing the boys gathered around the bonfire.  I went home that night smelling like a campfire and with chapped lips.

 

Later in the school year I had a birthday party for Randy at my house.  We were on the cusp of technology with a rented VCR and the film Poltergeist as the entertainment.  My parents had left for awhile and all of my friends had come to celebrate and watch movies.  Natalie showed up with Randy's best friend, Sean.  The two of them came in snapping at one another and slamming doors.  Everyone got very quiet as Sean and Natalie continued to fight with one another.  At one point they even went into my parents room and appeared to be deep in discussion.  Natalie came out of the room and threw herself into one of our living room chairs taking out a pack of cigarettes.  "Can I smoke?" She asked.  I did not want to make her madder so I said yes and got her an ashtray.  My parents came home just in time to see Natalie smoking a cigarette in their non-smoking house. I had some explaining to do after she left.

 

Through out that year I would run into Natalie, but I found her too blunt and cutting to be someone I wanted to spend much time with.  On the last day of the school year our group got together and she was there. I don't remember being excited to have her there. We went to a local park and did the usual misspent youth thing of loitering and telling dirty jokes.  We all started talking about our summer plans.  Natalie told us she was going to spend the summer with her mother in Maryland.  I know my ears pricked up.  Maryland seemed like a an exotic place to me, the girl who had spent most of her life stuck in mid-Missouri.  She even said that her mother was going to try to get her to move back, at the time Natalie lived with her grandparents.   A part of me hoped that her mother succeeded and I never saw this girl again, after all she had ruined my boyfriend's birthday.  Not that I was holding a grudge or anything, not me.  At the end of the night I went home without a thought about Natalie and my lips were chapped from kissing Randy in the park.

 

Postscript:  Years later Natalie would confess to me that she and Sean were playing a joke on us.  They were only pretending to fight.

Day 3: Speech Dorks

Couples always have that how they met story.  I love telling people about the first time I met Natalie.  Natalie actually hates this story.  She has even asked me not to tell the story because it bugs her so much.  I have told her about the month long project and this story will be today.  She took the news well.  I can only hope that she understands for me meeting her is one of those moments, which helped to define the rest of my life.  Okay, disclaimer done.

In the fall of 1982 I was at a Speech Meet in Vienna, MO.  Yes, I admit it, in high school I was a speech dork.  I had finished the first round of my poetry reading and had just entered the gym to catch up with my friends between rounds.  Almost immediately I saw a friend of mine from a neighboring school.  She was on the far end of the gym and she had with her a very cute boy in a navy corduroy suit.  From where I stood he was about her height and had a head of black hair.  I remember very clearly thinking, that my friend had to introduce me to that very cute boy.  Before I could catch up with them they were gone and I went on to the next round of events.

Somewhere between the second round and finals, I headed to the restroom.  I walked in and there was that very cute boy with my friend and the two of them were smoking cigarettes.  I know I must have stopped, stunned by what I was seeing.  No, not minors smoking in a restroom, but that upon closer inspection the boy in the navy corduroy suit was a girl.  I could not help, but notice the girl's dark eyes and that she had a lopsided smile like a pirate.  I was disappointed by her gender, but you know I still thought she was attractive.

Natalie 1983

I was too young and naïve to have realize that gender did not have to be a issue, in 1982 words like gay and lesbian were only mentioned in hushed tones or loud taunts.  I spent the rest of the speech meet with my friends and putting my initial attraction to Natalie away as a mistake.  Over thirty years later I still remember the exact shade of that navy corduroy suit and the little flutter in my heart the first time I saw that lopsided pirate smile.

Day 2: If Life Was Like a Movie

The first time I ever saw Natalie is almost like the beginning of a film.  If you added embellishment, syrupy music, or sepia toned filters, it would feel just like a lifetime channel movie.   I am promising myself and you to be honest, but this is how I remember it.

Natalie's Grandmother was the remedial reading teacher at my school.  She had the distinction of teaching my brother and my sister to read.  I was never in her class, but I knew who she was on sight.  I went to a small school so you knew who everyone was and they knew who you were too.  In first or second grade I saw a kid I didn't know with the remedial reading teacher.  I thought she was a new student, but someone told me she was the teacher's granddaughter.  I remember dark hair and dark eyes.  Part of me remembers looking through a classroom window and seeing her alone on the swings of the playground.  But part of me wonders if that is just a romantic notion that got stuck in my head at some point.  Regardless, I do remember seeing her with her grandmother. 



In third grade my classroom was right next to the remedial reading room and I remember hearing her grandmother talking about her granddaughter.  I remember wondering about this nameless granddaughter for maybe half of a second and then moving on to thinking about my Barbie dolls or the next time I was getting French fries.  In some ways, these early moments of awareness of her existence seem like fate. One day I was going to know this person and her impact on me would be life changing.

Day 1: Beginning

November is the blog a day writing project called NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month).  I have in fact done this challenge before in 2009.  I chose to write everyday about something I was thankful for.  The project wasn't easy I had so many things in my life than which were making me sad.  In the end the daily exercise of finding those daily gratitudes helped me to focus on all the gifts in my life.  Noble and fulfilling posting, but in the been there done that category for me.


I have not picked up that challenge again until this year.  This year I made a new year's resolution to write more. Though I have been blogging regularly, I still have not been working towards actually working on writing outside of my blog.  Writing on my blog is not the same as actually working on writing my stories, but it is good practice.

One of the things I want to write about is the beginning of my relationship with my wife, Natalie.  Like so many of our personal histories, it might not be interesting to anyone, but us.  However, the story of how two young lesbians found each other in the homophobic times of the early 1980s is your interest please read along.  If not, you may want to avoid my blog posts for the next month.  I will also say my wife is a little skeptical of me telling our story on my blog.  It will be interesting to see her reaction to the things I write, hopefully divorce will not be one of those reactions.

I have three goals for this project:
1. Be honest.
2. Though it might not take all of November to do, tell our story.
3. Improve my writing.

My friends your encouragement, suggestions, and support will be much appreciated. 

Ashamed of Missouri, My Home State

Today I saw a heart-breaking article in the local paper about a same-sex couple.   One of the partners, a state trooper, was killed in the line of duty.  His partner of 15 years sued the state for death benefits.  The surviving partner has a son and the two men had been raising the child together.  The state Supreme Court upheld that in Missouri marriage is only between a man and a woman and since they could not get married the partner was not eligible for the death benefits. (http://www.stltoday.com/news/local/metro/missouri-high-court-denies-benefits-to-same-sex-survivor-of/article_9f33760e-ede1-5278-80b1-7e784edf0c0b.html )

I cannot refute that I live in a state which does not recognize my marriage to my spouse, but a law so discriminatory is wrong. I am still angry that a majority of my fellow Missourians got to define what my life should be. I did not get to vote on what heterosexual relationships could be.  Today I was reminded why I am ashamed to be from this state. 

As I type the state of Hawaii is deciding on allowing same-sex marriage.  The state has civil unions, but not marriage.  Some in Hawaii are arguing that same-sex marriage does not significantly improve the legality of same-sex couples in their state.  Furthermore, if same-sex couples want to be married for federal purposes they can just go to another state and get married.  Because it is just a hop-skip & a jump to California or Washington from Hawaii.  No driving 5 hours to Iowa for you, Hawaiians.

I want to send the legislators of Hawaii a link to the article about the Missouri couple with a note that says, "This is why you should vote yes on same-sex marriage."



Kelly Glossip, seated, and Dennis Engelhard pose for a portrait together.

To Kelly Glossip I send my heartfelt condolences for all that you have lost, but know you are not alone in your struggle to seek equality.

Green Ink!

I love my knit tribe.  I know I have said that before, but it is true.  One night I was trapped in a commercial for Ink Joy pens. I noticed that green was a one of the ink colors.  I tweeted I had to have some of those green pens.  Like magic, one of my knit tribe shows up with four green Ink Joy pens for me.  She apparently had a surplus of colored ink pens.  Thank you, Kara, and thank you knit tribe for being so awesome.

Yarn Stash, Part Deux

First I do not speak French or even pretend to speak French, so please forgive the pretentiousness of the title.  I think I am trying to convey the ridiculousness of my yarn stash by using a highfalutin French word.  In literature this language could even denote the beginning of a mock epic. Now that I have established the silliness of which I am capable, I will move along. 

Today I walked by my mail chubby at work and found a ball of yarn with a single size 10.5 knitting needle shoved into it.  I must admit I looked around to see if this was some sort of joke played on the flakey records lady.  Next came the double take of is there really a ball of yarn in my chubby.  With a little effort I got the ball of yarn out of the small space and ascertained that yes there was only one needle stuck in it.  I scratched my head, yup even in a jail yarn falls out the sky to land in my yarn stash.

Later a co-worker admitted that she was cleaning out her craft room and found the yarn and thought about me.  She did not really explain the lone needle, but you know I think I can let that mystery wait for another day.  Apparently, my yarn stash is  becoming like a planet with a gravitational pull, it is attracting random balls of yarn from other people's homes. Why can't money come to me as easily as yarn does?