Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Ho-Ho-Homo...

This is our first family Christmas card.
 
Tinkle and Marvin were in most of the shots, but they failed to make the cut. This was the shot we ended up selecting for our holiday cards. 
 

There are some special details I'd like to point out, in case you missed them on first perusal.
 
 
1. Lisa has her hands in the ASL sign for "I love you" which is both appropriate for the season and sensitive to cultural diversity.
 

2. I am wearing my fuzzy bomber style thingie, so this post ties in with last week's post nicely. How's that for continuity?
 

3. Our reindeer on the mirror are meant to look like us. The one with the wonky eye/crooked tongue is Lisa. The lovely symmetrical reindeer represents yours truly.
 
 
4. We made stockings. They match. And have rainbow hanging loops. How gay!


Enjoy the holidays... (watch this!)

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152416373330157

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Newfound-Homo Headgear

Once again it's been over a week since I've posted. This work thing is really getting in the way of my blogging.

Sheesh.

Anywho, there is a serious matter I've been pondering, worrying about, meditating on, discussing, mulling over (and comparing and contrasting in my head in essay form).

HATS.

This is the first in a series of posts about hats. I have lots of thoughts to share about headwear.

a) LESBIANS LIKE HATS A LOT.

See?

SEE???

SEE??????...
oh wait, nevermind.
That's not a lesbian...

b) NEWFOUNDLANDERS LIKE HATS A LOT.

See?


SEE??????
Living on the West Coast, I wore hats for aesthetic appeal.

Living in Newfoundland, I wear hats because my hair/ears/neck and jaw areas not covered by my scarf will die and drop off in the freezing wind if I don't.

On my 5 km forced marches to-and-from work (at 7 am and 8 pm...sucks to be me), I ponder the merits of the various hats in my collection (particularly the one I am wearing at the time).

The perfect hat is hard to come by.

Let's discuss our options (as both lesbians and people with cold heads):

HAT OPTION OF THE DAY: The GIgantic FUrry Bomber-Style ThIngie



First of all, I have one. It was a surprise, I-bought-you-this-for-no-good-reason present from Lisa and I love it.

-It is made from recycled polyester, so all the animals are still alive.

-It is a warm and sturdy and furry piece of head-loving goodness.

-It snaps under the chin, it muffles sound and makes it easy to ignore loud children and unpleasant strangers.



Well suited for snowy trips to the coffee shop. Also stellar for hanging out around the house on days when the furnace blows.

And best of all, this hat DOES. NOT. BLOW. OFF. Important when living in the middle of the Atlantic.

I also don't look at all like a lesbian in this hat, so I would wear this one to church.

Downside...and I learned this the hard way: this hat is not suited for physical activity of any kind. Panic will ensue, because you WILL feel all hot and sweaty and restricted. And arrive at your destination with sweat-soaked, plastered-down limp spaghetti hair.

Yep. Pretty accurate.

COminG Next WeeK... Fantasticle Lesbian Kristmas Speshul!

(and more hats...)

Thursday, December 6, 2012

How many times until I'm really gay?


Well, I haven't posted in an entire week. I have a job.

 I was all worried about not having any work, and was concerned about my ability to contribute to my partnership and household and the community and society in general.

Now I'm working and I have changed my mind.

Working is less fun than I imagined.

I miss scheduling my days around coffee shop blogging (I'd finally found the trifecta of decent soy lattes, friendly queer baristas and fast wifi at Hava Java), runs and soup-making.

Lisa likes Hava Java too. 
Sigh.

So now I am working as a child and youth worker. Pay is okay. 12 hour shifts, so I work 7 shifts biweekly and have lots of days off...but there are incredibly sucky mandatory night shifts.

The first twelve hour overnight 'awake' shift wasn't bad initially. The kids were asleep, I was hanging out with a sarcastic, intelligent and interesting coworker, and they have all the movie channels. It was kind of like a sleepover. I couldn't believe I was getting paid to hang out and watch TV.

 For the first six hours. 

And then at 2 am I started yawning. And checking the time on my iPhone every five minutes. I tried sitting in uncomfortable positions, pinching myself, and contemplated taping my eyelids open in order to stay awake.

By 4 am I felt like crying, I was so exhausted. Apparently I am old, and my body doesn't want to do all nighters. I made it through, but was a zombie for two days afterwards.


I learned a few things: 


1. I must nap for at least two hours before shift, and at least two hours when I return home in the morning.

2. Bring lots of food and activities (though nothing involving any brainpower or fine motor skills). If you are going to make me stay awake all night, there had better be some gluten free brownies and trashy magazines involved.

3. If I can make it to 6 am, I'm golden. The end is in sight, children begin to rouse, and I start to get my second wind.

During that lethal period from 4 until 6 in the morning I would sell Marvin for a twenty minute nap. Well, I'd give him away actually, but you get my point.

It's an upside down Marvin! This is what we do instead of enemas now. Shake it out of him...

Night shifts are lame, but by far the most uncomfortable part of the new job experience is having to come out all over again to a whole new set of strangers on every shift. This coming out thing is new to me...and I am beginning to realize that divulging my sexual orientation is a constant and complicated process.

So far I've worked 10 shifts in 7 different homes with 10 different coworkers.

There is that inevitable question during the first half hour getting-to-know-your-shift-partner phase.

"What brings you to Newfoundland?"

Fair enough. St. John's is not really somewhere that people move to just for a change of scenery. I am here because my girlfriend is here, and I had nothing better to do than follow her.

End of story.

The dilemma comes when I have to decide whether to tell the truth, or make up some lame story about cheap tuition (a nice side bonus, but not ultimately why I am in St. John's).


Coming out over and over and over (and over) at work is tricky. At first it was like ripping off a band-aid. I was loud and proud and very upfront about my same-sex partnership, and pretended not to notice any awkwardness that I created.


But you know what happens when you rip off a band-aid in the same place repeatedly? Skin irritation. Chafing. Open wounds. Cascading rivers of blood.

It's uncomfortable, and I'm a wuss.

And because I'm a wuss, sometimes I lie by omission.

I lie by omission when I use the term "partner" to describe Lisa; it is gender-neutral term, and I use it when I want my sexual orientation to remain ambiguous. Because I don't explicitly state that my partner is a woman, whoever I'm talking to can create a story about me that makes them comfortable.

This makes me a bad homosexual, but it saves me the unpleasantness of having to work 12 hours with someone who is clearly either:

a) going to be convinced I am going to hell.

 or 

b) going to be convinced I am hitting on them. Because as a sexually deviant lady-lover, sitting too close, giving compliments, asking non-work related questions, smiling, any form of hair or clothing adjustment or making eye contact can all be interpreted as propositions.

or

c) both a) and b)

 What I need is some kind of non-invasive but easily recognizable queer identifiers... let my coworkers draw their own conclusions. Maybe I'll get some rainbow stickers for my laptop and cell phone. Or rainbow shoelaces, t-shirts and water bottles...hmmm.