Year in Review: The Big Cheater Post
January: I can't say I'm sad to see 2007 go, and here's a quick recap of some of the reasons

February: I have never been to Hawaii.

March: It was my birthday yesterday and between turtle and the Village, I feel sufficiently celebrated.

April: I had a hell of a day yesterday.

May: Yesterday was the sort of day where a stop for a six pack of Green Light was a good plan, so that's where I was headed last night after work.

June: I'm closing in on the end of my two week wait.

July: The timing chain on the car engine broke.

August: We had a mostly fabulous time camping--the less fabulous was pretty darn entertaining and will come up in a future post, no doubt!

September: I'm enjoying my last weekday off from work until October--we're going camping with some friends to celebrate turtle's birthday for a long weekend, so this is really it until then and I'm focusing on getting the house and yard whipped into shape, which is no small task.

October: Mason's okay--just needed antidepressants.

November: Having grown up working retail, if I'm not done with my holiday shopping by Halloween, I feel like a slacker.

December: I've done my last big store update before the holidays--check it out!

Update
I'm slowly patching myself up after the ridiculous Christmas trip. I'm just home from a lovely, restorative trip down to Ohio to see some friends. I enjoyed homemade latkes and sufganoit, many fabulous drinks and wonderful conversation with a bunch of women who get it. They've dated, they've loved, they've had their hearts broken, they've broken some hearts and when we all gathered around that table in Dayton, there was laughter and understanding, there was wonderful food and meaningful eye contact, there were cat shenanigans and demanding dog-shaped fuzzballs. The evening could not have been better for me.

Things with turtle are improving all the time--she's still moving out in a month and I'm sad about her leaving. I missed the hell out of her when I was traveling, but we both know that in the long run it will be best for both of us (and for the people who love us and the people we hope to date) if we don't live together.

I have this next week off of work--I plan to do some house-related tasks, some planning for this next year, and some writing.

And I have a date on New Year's Day about which I could not be more excited.

On Boxing Day
I'm home from my trip to the Great White North to celebrate Christmas with my parents, brother, SIL and Tali the Amazing. I'm physically fine, emotionally wrung out and overwhelmed by any number of things. I suspect this post will wander around even more aimlessly than usual, and I trust you'll forgive what's sure to be a complete lack of editing.

Upon my arrival, my mother was holding Tali, who saw me and made the sign for bird at me, which I taught to her when I visited over Thanksgiving. This child--I don't really know how to explain all of who and what she is, but I've known her before, I've known her for years. She's the part of me that could have been if I'd been born to other parents, the part of me that will never be because I was not, the part of me that's walking around in the care of other people while I pray wishes for her and sing songs that only she can hear.

At the dinner table that evening, my mother explained to me that her guests (newer readers may not know that my parents run a bed and breakfast) would be VERY uncomfortable if they found out that I'm a lesbian, and I don't need to advertise it, anyway, right? RIGHT? I poured myself the first drink of the trip.

The following morning, my brother, SIL, mother and I took Tali to the mall where they have a toddler-perfect play area with a slide, which is one of Tali's great loves. The kid could go down the slide for hours at a time if we'd let her. Because I am who I am, I brought my camera along and started shooting every moment, when it died in my hand. I knew it was coming--it's been held together with a rubberband for more than a year now (and it's not lost on me that that's a great metaphor for my relationship with turtle) and it went out as it had arrived: quietly and with me cursing my inability to get the fucking thing to work. I tucked it into my bag, a very sad amphibian, because if there's not a camera in front of me, the people are sometimes just too close, particularly when those people are my family.

I split off from the group and spent some Christmas money on a haircut, then walked to the Inn through the snowbanks. The day I arrived, they'd gotten half a foot. On day two, another eight inches fell. The following morning, a "dusting" of four inches.

That afternoon, we hosted an open house for friends and family. I finished what remained of the brandy before the first guests arrived. It was wonderful to reconnect with some high school friends and their parents, as well as to meet some of the people in my parents' lives who I've heard about but hadn't met (or had met but don't remember). One woman in particular was sitting at the kitchen table with a friend of mine, B, who used to be my employer, of sorts. I was their go-to babysitter for about eight years, coming back from college for big events to be with their girls. Honestly, that family saved my life. B showed me how it is that you can raise kids with love and structure and curiosity and instill in them the confidence to go out and do things in the world. It's a far cry from the model in which I was raised, which has left me too afraid to try on more occasions than I care to admit. She loved me well and with respect and has never left me feeling like I'm anything less than.

B and this woman were talking and I didn't know the woman, so I introduced myself to her. She's my parents' next-door neighbor and upon meeting me, exclaimed, "Oh! I had no idea they had a daughter! I thought they just had the one son!" And I know that B saw the look on my face and put it together with the lack of photographs of me in their home and she told the neighbor all about how she and her husband really only know my parents through me, and that I took wonderful care of their girls for years and was SUCH a positive influence in their lives and continue to be that even now. I finally had to excuse myself because the stark contrast between B saying nice things about me and my parents' inability to come to terms with who I am left me vulnerable in a way that I can't be when I'm with them. It's just not safe.

The following day, my dad's brother drove my mom's mother down to visit. I've always had a complicated relationship with her--I know that she's the primary reason for my mother's inability to love me well and with kindness and while I don't have that same kind of relationship with her, I see it. I see the created drama, I see the acting out to get attention and I do what I can to keep it at arm's length. When we went to the living room to open some gifts, I chose a seat near a window and a bit away from the rest of the people and my grandmother took that opportunity to comment on what an excellent illustration that was of my place in the family, that I've never really been part of it, not really, and it was clear to everyone why that is. And then she told me that she'd given her engagement ring and wedding band to my youngest cousin, since I won't be needing it, anyway.

I poured myself another drink.

We had lunch with my dad's cousin and her husband, who live nearby. I ate quickly and retreated to the kitchen where I chatted online with a few friends, played my scrabble moves and continued to drink. The cousin and I have connected all over again via Facebook and I'm pretty forthcoming there. I don't pan my parents, because I'm there under my real name and if I learned anything in that house it's how to make sure everyone thinks my parents are outstanding human beings. She came into the kitchen and wrapped me up in her arms and told me that she was so glad that I was there, that she was sorry it's so hard for me to be there, that she loves me and that I'm welcome to their home any time I want. I thanked her and told her that if I went there, my mother would never forgive me, and she already knew that.

By the time the five o'clock church service rolled around, I'd had several rum and cokes. It's the first time I've ever gone to church after drinking. The only thing that really changed is that when the pastor suggested that people should really wish one another a "Jesus, Joseph and Mary Christmas!" I snorted aloud, in part because Tali dropped something and held forth with an "UH OH!" at just the right moment. The kid's timing is impeccable.

After church, we had Christmas dinner. I made the mashed potatoes, my brother carved the turkey, it was a whole thing. After the meal, my brother and I were cleaning up the kitchen, having given our parents strict instructions to go and hang out by the tree. My mom couldn't do it--she kept coming into the kitchen and getting in the way. After the third time that she reloaded something I'd just put into the dishwasher, I told her that she had a choice to make: She could go into the living room and let me do the dishes or she could do it herself. She chose the latter and I went into the living room to sit by the tree. She followed me, ranting the entire way about what a brat I was and how I ALWAYS wreck everything, INCLUDING Christmas.

We opened gifts--I got a 5x7 frame that's lovely, a cat-shaped frame that will be perfect for a Small Friend sometime, a stuffed frog that croaks Jingle Bells, some gift cards, and a check. I went up to my room for the night when Tali crashed out, about 8:15. Around nine, my mother came to my door and I didn't answer the door. I was busy hiding under the covers, wondering whether she was going to be able to get into the room anyway, just like I did when I was a tiny little kid holed up in my room after getting the shit kicked out of me for who knows what. She left a bag of my favorite cookies and some more money, just like old times.

I have a purring cat on my lap as I write this. I have possibilities and hopes and fears rolling around in my brain and my heart. I'm afraid that if I'm not someone's one and only that I'll be no one to them, which I know in my brain isn't true and doesn't work even when it's happened, but it's still there.

We're slightly iced in by the weather and by my holiday, so I'm taking an extra day before I see the friends who will help me put my heart back together before I see the person who just may be the next to touch it. It scares me to be this raw and small and hurt, but at least I know that I'm here.

Santa grants a wish
We have some long-time friends. They have twin girls the same age as me and D and I played ball together from the time we were 9 until we graduated from high school. Both of us came out in college and D's about the biggest, butchest dyke you've ever seen in your life. She's a guard at a men's prison and wears handcuff earrings. ;)

Anyway. Our parents have been friends for, what, almost 30 years now. They don't have a lot of money but they have really generous hearts. Every year, Tom dresses up like Santa for various events, including a Christmas tea that my parents host as a fundraiser for church. This year, there was a little girl named Lily at the tea. She lives with her parents, who are on disability. Her uncle saved up money and bought her a bike, which she LOVED and afforded her some much-needed freedom of movement. One day, she forgot to lock up her bike and someone walked off with it. Even though she's ten, she believes in Santa and at the tea, she told him that all she wants for Christmas is a new bike, just like her old one. Her grandmother was sitting behind her, shaking her head at Santa, because there's no money for a bike this year. Lily kept talking about how it's all she wants, and Santa told her that he tries really hard to bring everyone their wish, but it doesn't always work out. Lily was sure that Santa wouldn't let her down.

The next day, Tom stopped by the Inn to talk to my mom. He and his wife wanted to buy Lily a bike for Christmas, but couldn't afford what they thought it would cost, so my mom talked to the pastor at church and secured some additional funds from his discretionary account. It turns out that Tom found the perfect bike for a quarter of what they thought it would cost, so they bought her the bike, a lock and a horn. It's sitting in the garage right now, waiting for Lily's grandma and uncle to pick it up so she'll be surprised on Christmas morning.

I hope this Christmastide brings you only the best of surprises, and that you and your loved ones are happy, safe and well loved now and always.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas travels
I leave on Monday to see Tali in a location where the predicted high that day is ONE DEGREE. She'd better be extra cute!

This amuses me
My holiday cards bear nutcracker stamps.

The clean edge of change*
First there is the folding in,
To gather light and dark to you.
The journey down so far that it,
Has nowhere else to go but through.
I thought if I tried hard enough,
With endless motion like a bribe,
As if by this the will of God,
Could be bent to my version of right.
What happens next is nearly weightless,
The opening where we stand breathless,
On the clean edge of change.

Things continue to change between turtle and me. She's met someone with whom she's totally smitten and, frankly, I wasn't ready to see it on her face, to hear it in her voice. I haven't handled it gracefully or well, and I apologized to her new woman for having acted like an asshole in the midst of my grief. It isn't that I want to get back together with turtle--if there's ANYTHING that I know for sure, it's that we are not good as partners.

"Change, when it comes, cracks everything open." That's something that Dorothy Allison says and she's right. Whether we want it or not, whether we're ready or not, whether we embrace it or resist it, change cracks us open, for better or worse. It lets in things we didn't know we were missing and it lets out things we didn't know we were holding.

And who am I, who makes this sound,
Who rode the shadow all the way down?
In that clear space of knowing there's
As many names for dark as for light,
I am choosing mostly now to speak
The names that get me through the night.
But always, with humility,
With a worn out but grateful heart.
Having sang so recently,
Full-throated in the dark.

My truth--it's many things. My truth is that as an abused child, I come by my desire to show the best possible face honestly, though it serves no one well. Others see it as denial and it doesn't do me any favors to maintain the fallacy. My truth is that I cling tightly well past the point where it makes sense for me. My truth is that my tendency to do that sometimes keeps other people from growing in ways that are good and healthy for them.

My truth is that I'm angry that after all the time and effort, someone else will benefit.

But my truth is also that after all the time and effort, I will benefit. My truth is that I'm hopeful again for the first time in a long time. I'm doing some mutual flirting that seems to have some potential and it's awakened feelings I honestly thought were gone forever.

And she's fucking adorable, to boot.

First there is the folding in,
To gather light and dark to you,
The journey down so far that it,
Has nowhere else to go but through.

*title and italicized text by Carrie Newcomer

And, now, for something totally different!
My sister-in-law has lost her mind in a very, very good way.

Best laid plans
turtle's moving out in January. We gave it a shot, but couldn't live as housemates, after all.

Jesus blogs
Last night, I arrived home and turtle was baking the most amazing bread in the history of everything and putting the finishing touches on chick-pea noodle soup. The house smelled like home and I retreated to the computer room to check email and call my cousin.

I love him to little bits and pieces, but he's a priest and a ridiculously honest one at that and, true to form, he asked me some damn hard questions. As I walked with the phone from the office to my room, I saw the pieces from the crib we borrowed from the Daddyzines leaning up against various walls.

I went down and had dinner with turtle and we started to watch Gossip Girl, which is our Monday tradition, and I just totally lost my shit. I told her that I needed to go to bed and I went up to my room and had what I can only describe as a two-hour meltdown. I sobbed, I wept, I said aloud that things weren't fair and that I hurt like hell and I need it to stop but I don't know what I need to help me make it stop.

I slept fairly well and woke up peaceful, if more than a little puffy in the face.

And there's no transition, but this made me laugh and laugh.

On dating
Yesterday afternoon, I had my first first date since the one with turtle, which is a hard first date to follow, really. The date was fine--I met her online, we did some emailing, chatted on a phone for a few hours and met for a warm beverage on a cold day.

She was about 20 minutes late, and while I was waiting for her, playing solitaire on my iPod and thinking about how I'd feel if she stood me up, I realized something. I'm not ready to date.

I know that turtle is--she wanted to leave our relationship at least 18 months before we finally called it quits, and that's all fine and good. I didn't. It's not that I didn't believe her when she told me she wanted to be done so much as it was that I thought there was room for us to work things out. There wasn't, we didn't and here we are. She's all excited about dating, I'm trying desperately to catch up with her so I'm not wallowing in the whatever while she's out having a good time.

But the fact of the matter is that I'm wallowing in the whatever. There's grief that I need to work through--about not having kids with her, about her deciding that she doesn't want to have kids at all, about the likelihood that I won't birth a child, about my changed role in the Village, about this future that I wanted with this person that will not be, that actually stopped being a possibility a long time before I let go of it.

On Friday, turtle met someone who she really likes. It's harder than I thought to watch her face light up every time this woman sends her a text message. And it's complicated to work out the delicate balance of what I want with what turtle wants in terms of sharing the house.

dyetyke update
I've done my last big store update before the holidays--check it out! As always, I'm open to trade and custom orders.