who do you talk to when the wizard of oz is not home

o i wish i had the power to transform

better yet the power to conform

i want to be made of play-dough

a mojo combo of flour, water, oil and salt

dyed a lovely yellow or mellow purple

as to not offend the eyes of others

but that ain’t real and never will be

it’s cold outside of life

and everyone looks the same from behind

begging and pleading has just scuffed my knees

attempting atonement for sins unknown

is a lavish regurgitation and flagellation of ego

i was born a derelict

keeping company with the best of pariahs

a slow decay and a quick tongue remain

i would have liked to be better

i would have liked to be pretty and dumb

i would have liked to never know consequences

i would have liked to live in a world painted by others

but my liking and my living have never jived


always hold onto the helium balloon

every minute ticked by


like a strung out snail

a turtle on heroin-time

looking through windows

at the lives of others

shivering and shaking

as they drank their swiss miss

from over-sized mugs

smelling of beets, patchouli and other organics

rosey cheeked fuckers with cream-like chins

dancing sparkling eyes and the proper bmi

every smile of delight made me shrink

the definition of me

lay solely

in the definition of they

but that ain’t life, man

the human being isn’t built

for the rat race

i stored my morals in my pocket

i pulled them out or tucked them in

depending on the who’s what’s when’s why’s where’s

the nouns and verbs of the situation

the only thing that can grow in nothing

is nothing

and that is all i was


and it’s too much to be nothing where you need to be anything but

so i charted and planned and catered

i was going out like a rocket ship and not a child’s balloon

then it was amazing

the most amazing of graces

there was a smile and a greeting

that was it…..

when there is a pair of nothings

you have something

and shit

that is a something to fucking believe in

we keep the door open

the light is on

and the fire is lit

there is bread out and cheeses

always look for warm drinks in winter and ice when the sun is high

everyone is someone

everything is something

in this place we are a band of miscreant ex-nothings creating a grand circus of delight

too happy, too sad, too blonde…….too much effort

when i was 11 i tried to giggle

it seemed the more you giggled

and the less you laughed

the better off everyone was

when you were at the party

or the store

or shopping at the mall

-i was never shopping at the mall…

i was loitering and rummaging

which is all i could afford to do-

i was not beautiful

i was not quiet

i was not a half-wit

and i was not at all good at giggling

i would practice in the mirror

behind the closed bathroom door

i watched the girls who were loved

the gaggles of gigglers

they would talk about things

things i could not understand

the proper way to be blonde

the right huge bow to wear with this or that

cars, trips over-seas, clothes clothes clothes

and makeup

but mostly the talks and scores of giggles

were directed at other people

the boys who were so cute

the girls who were so unworthy

what they had heard of this one

or that one over there in fake keds

the gaggle of gossiping gigglers

there was never talk of the news

or of the environment

they all read books

a series of garbage

“sweet valley high”

i worked and saved every dime

wiping snot from the nose of toddlers

and delivering papers

and walking door to door to con strangers into buying the newspaper

so i could go out and buy

every single sweet valley high book

i read the first paragraph of the first book

it dawned on me

one of the unimaginative toddlers

i watched weekly as their parents went

to the club or suppering (verb) with proper people

one of the children filled with green mucous

wrote the entire series in baby hieroglyphs

after one paragraph i was exhausted

from trying to find the meaning

and justification for publication

of mental diarrhea, which is a kind description

but i kept them in case

and i hid my love in the closet

under blankets and dirty panties

stacks of paperbacks mostly stolen

jack, chuck, willie, allen, robert, tim…..

books of roads and whores

insanity and herion

drinkin druggin and too much

motorcycles and buddhism

beets pan and perfume

in hopes i would giggle my way into friendships

it was a skill i never mastered

i was never fully aware when the giggle

was the appropriate response

when i was 12 i laughed and embraced madness

i truly was

back then

centuries of learned destruction

one after the other after the other

a snowball rolling down hill

it all started with just a tiny snowflake

here we all sit in today, this hour, this minute

never seen before and never seen again

there are times i want to grab the moment

i want to hold it like a lover and keep it safe

there are the times my mind

my thoughts swims backward

i walk into my 6 year old self

everything looks different

nothing is familiar or comforting

there is a tension that is palpable

in the air, a dense fog of unhappiness

my mother screaming at full volume

my dad laughing then driving away

my sister and i not even cringing

“guess we aren’t having supper tonight”

we play candy land because that is fun

apologies, drunken stupors, violence, bruises

nostalgia is a bitch in red heels

refusal to put a shirt on! wonderful article

refusal to put a shirt on! wonderful article

(my response to the article written about social beauty…too long to write there)

wow!!! you are a beautiful young lady, overweight or in shape.  the conditioning we allow to bombard us and we tend to inflict, most unaware of what they are doing is a ridiculous waste of time geared toward creating body dysmorphia and even worse in some cases.  using others and their insecurities to boost your low self image is a mental disorder.  being of a certain bmi, body type is not a a horrible act, but being the monster pointing and laughing is and it is a decisive action with forethought and planning.   i am a mother of 3 boys-well ok 2 are technically men, but i am not ok with that….i grew them inside of my body.  i put my health and life in the line of fire to create human life.  my boys were all big-they are finnish, and those ppl are big-they have to be or they will just freeze to death.  i am a small person, 5’3 1/2″ and at the time before my first son i weighed 115 and in really good shape.  being pregnant and your body changing daily as the person inside of you grows, it can be pretty hard to handle.  i had a very difficult time dealing with this change-my mother mocked me (she is not really all that stable in the upstairs department-she was raised on beauty priorities too) constantly, i was young-18, here i was becoming the size of 2 of me.  after my oldest son was born, i started trying to get rid of the skin that hung down.  i got pregnant again.  my middle son and oldest son are exactly eleven and a half months apart.  at that point, screw my body, i couldn’t even brush my teeth or use the bathroom alone.  then i had my youngest who was born premature.  luckily we had taken measures to rapidly increase his lungs bc we knew he was coming soon.  these steroids gave me some severe edema-swelling-but he was born healthy, lungs functioning.  now i look at my belly, scared and cut, looking like a riverbed and i no longer want to have it whacked off.  i am not brave enough to wear a bikini but i am brave and proud enough to look at my reflection and know that i am good.  that is just my story and it’s no different for ppls who gain weight wo ppl creation.  our beauty is not up for auction.  our beauty is not a fashion statement or the cool new pair of shoes.  our beauty is everlasting, proof we are strong, a visible reminder that we are just right where we are as long as we feel just right.  my beauty is not up for debate in social circles of botox and taunt skin over 90 year old bones.  my beauty is mine.

sometimes words fall short-a very wonderful surprise

i don’t  even know where or how to start this, so if i ramble or make confusing statements, just keep reading bc the answer might be hidden and if not, you can always ask me.  so here it goes folks, it’s story time!

yesterday i had to go to the gp, which is never a good warm fuzzy experience.  and as usual the dr’s hands flew up into the air indicating “hell, i don’t know!”  at least yesterday was the physician’s assistant and not the actual dr.  the pa at least listens to me.  we left with nothing.  no answers, no help for symptoms, not even a little pamphlet produced  by some money hungry drug company whoring their product to the public.  it was disheartening to say the least.  i was told to take medications that don’t work for me, wait to see the mobility neurologist, “that looks like it’s painful.” and “there is nothing else we can do.”  so great!  thanks, fella that is helpful!

i came home and there was a package addressed to amy and i..  amy beat me to the bedroom and when i walked in there the package had been opened-this is not weird for us bc we get so very excited to get mail!  amy was sitting on the bed and looked very emotional-amy doesn’t really get emotional, it’s gotta be big!  she looked up at me and said “i think you need to look at this.”  it sent a shiver down my spine.  all i could think of was the day i got the letter from my dad telling me he committed suicide and his final words to our family.  i thought one of our friends had been in a bad situation and this was a something special of their’s.  i brace myself and walk to the bed.

amy tells me to take the top item out.  it is a scarf w pirate skulls on it in the colors of omicron delta pi-a human rights, co-ed fraternity.  this was not unusual either, we get many things like this.  except the fraternity is full of some of my best friends, so the whole “last item” deal was really stirring around in my gut.  i pulled out the second item, as instructed by amy.  it was another scarf, same colors.  i was seriously scared at this point, then she hand me a scroll.  i almost puked.

the human brain is extremely complex, and we have many thoughts and ideas and emotions and reactions in the matter of milliseconds.  it seemed i simultaneously saw all of my friends and loved one’s from this organization.  there are certain ppl that if anything were to happen with them i would crack down the middle, spilling my guts out onto the floor.  these ppl had never turned me away when i needed help.  they had just accepted me inviting me into their homes and lives.  these are ppl that i honestly love with all of my heart and soul.  even if were someone that i was not personally close to or had even met, this is amy’s family, her brothers and sisters, her comrades.  it would be devastating to her, meaning it would be devastating to me and our other friends.  i was shaking so badly that amy had to take the ribbon off.  i was going to tear something up.  she unrolled the scroll and handed it to me.

it was not a suicide letter or the items of ppl we love bc something tragic had happened.  it was a letter informing me that the fraternity had voted me in as an honorary member.  reading it the first time i didn’t really know what it was saying.  i read it again, making sure i was looking at the letters forming the words forming the thoughts being conveyed from them to me.  i had read it correctly.  i also got my colors!

the letter said “in recognition of your tireless work within human rights and advocacy…”  i stopped processing for a bit, just staring at the paper in my hand, trying very hard to understand.  this is a huge deal!  there are not many people that are even considered to be honorary members.  i thought that amy must have bought some ppl off…used some jedi mind tricks.

“did you know about this?  did you do this?”

“i am not the one who nominated you.”

the tears i had been holding back suddenly broke the dam swimming down my face.  the people in this group do so much!  and there are many people that i respect and love so deeply that not talking to them in a bit makes me feel sorta empty.  and here they were telling me that i had done so many good things, the organization wanted to have me in their family.  i was baffled and confused and a whole bunch of other things all at once, but the emotion that hit me the strongest was honored and loved.  this was truly the most kind and humbling event in my life!

when you do what i do,it is never for praise or self fulfillment of ego.  you do it bc it is the right thing to do, because if i don’t do it i am consenting to action and ideas that i cannot stand behind.  i feel as though it is my obligation to the world to fight to make this a better, safer, more acceptable place to be.  for the most part i try to stay out of the limelight, of course there have been times that i have had to take a public stance and put my name and face to certain things-when we started the pride here i was the president therefore the spotlight was on me, and that was cool and i wasn’t all agoraphobic or whatever, i just don’t feel like i do anything that isn’t necessary.  so when a group of ppl have gotten together and decided that i have done enough to justify allowing me into their family, words don’t portray the feelings and thoughts.  words falls short.

i am honored to be a member of this family, to walk along side of some of my heroes.  i am so overcome with joy and pride.

so i am saying something that my entire life i never thought i would say:

i am a member of the fraternity Omicron Delta Pi- Ο Δ π !  i hope i can make my brothers and sisters proud because i am very proud to be a part of this!

visibility-do queer celebrities owe us an explanation?



being a part of the lgbtqa community, i am forever entrenched in details of gayness in our culture-whether that is those opposed to or in favor of-it is constantly an issue.  how to be a proper gay, how to be a good ally, who is gay who is not, where they stand, how they came out, blah freakin blah blah blah.  everywhere i look it’s gay!  being as how the lgbtqa community has not been recognized as legit ppls for centuries, a spotlight on our presence is wonderful, but how far does that go?  is someone required to divulge their sexuality?  does this change with the amount of celebrity a person has?

i am openly gay.  i have a partner who is a woman.  we hold hands and smooch in public and say “i love you!” loud and proud.  we attend school functions together and our kids introduce us as their mom’s. “this is my mom grace.  and this is my other mom amy. and this is my dad ted.  we all live together in a big nutshell, and although my mom and dad are not a smooching couple anymore they are besties and so i have 3 parents who love me and support me!  don’t look at me that way-it’s weird but it’s cool!” the kids have their speeches all planned out.  i am lucky, though.  my family, my sons and exhusband, are not only accepting and open to my queerness they encourage me to be who i am despite other ppls’ views of morality, so i kinda have it easy bc even though gay bashing is not a crime in the state i live in, and there are so many crazy homophobes out there, i can retreat into my family and circle of friends to love and respect me.  i can fill my unique cup with their love and not have to worry.  also, it helps that most of the time i am completely unaware of social nuances and subtle bigotry, so unless it is pretty blatant i don’t even notice.  ppl literally have to point or call me a derogatory remark for me to click the link of o that person’s an asshole…ok…they don’t like me bc i am gay.  o well piss off!  i have thick skin and a great family, so being an open lesbian is easier for me.

when working with lgbtqa youth, i took a different approach.  i never told kids they have to be out to their families.  the reason is simple-it can be dangerous, physically, emotionally, mentally dangerous for some ppl, and when you are a minor and your parents are in control of you legally, being out is not always a luxury for every kid.  i always tried to know the parents of the kids in the youth group.  if the kid was openly gay, bisexual or trans giving parents support and resources is important.  understanding the environment a kid is in also helps in understanding where that kid is coming from therefore providing a better understanding of the sort of help that kid needed.  for some kids, knowing their situation meant knowing their parents were hateful.  there was one boy who could not be open with his dad, bc although his dad was fine and dandy w lesbians (sexualizing  us of course) gay men on the other hand were an freaks and disgusting.  this particular young man was in a very volatile situation that was lingering on the cusp of abuse at all times.  i would never look at him and say “you should tell your dad!”  that would be irresponsible of me as an advocate, and although i feel like when you hide a part of yourself from the world, it causes all sorts of inner conflict and leads to some really damaging shit mentally, sometimes there are great big reasons that a closet exist.

gay bashing

homeless queer youth

so, i am conflicted.  on the one hand i feel that being open and honest in all aspects of your life is healthy, i can see why and how it can be difficult for some ppl to even accept they are gay much less express that to other ppl.  on one hand i feel that when i kiss my partner goodbye and hold her hand i am showing the world that i am ok with who i am, and i am maybe paving the way for another little girl who wants to smooch little girls to be more comfortable with who she is, on the other hand i am not required to wave my pride flag and neither is anyone else.  so i feel torn inside.

while i totally appreciate ellen and elton and chaz and all the other “out” celebrities, i do not feel that they are required to be spokesppl for the lgbtqa community.  we have no idea what the private lives of these ppl are like, what their demons are and what prejudices they themselves hold not to mention the ppl in their lives.  and while i have about 100 ppl in my life who know my name and think they know who i am, a person of celebrity status has millions of ppl who think they know them.  there is a huge difference there!  that is opening themselves up to alot of rejection and ridicule, and it is also making them responsible for being the ever good gay person or trans person bc they are the face of queer.  that is sorta bullshit!  i remember a coupla years back george micheals, you know the guy from wham everyone rumored to be bi bc something something ear pierced in the 80’s, apologized to the gay community for not coming out before and for not being an upstanding member of the community because he had gotten in trouble doing some naughty things in public.  recently sean hayes, jack mcfarland on will and grace, also apologized for being in the closet for so long.  and while, yes, being visible is a good thing and it is pretty awesome that ppl outside of the queer community seem to be accepting us more openly, i can only think of the young man and his dad, that struggle when i think of these ppl apologizing for not being open.

this last week a diver came out as gay, and it’s a big deal to ppl.  i feel like i am supposed to get all worked up and just goo-goo over a person simply for being queer, and i just can’t seem to gather the strength to do that.  i appreciate their openness but not anymore than i appreciate the openness of my partner or cole or carles or kat or brandon or kennedy or aj or leslie or leigh ann or brett or…..