Monday, January 14, 2013

Something About Life

December 23rd. That’s the last time I wrote.

So many things have been taking place. As a lot of you know I took a trip back to Tennessee for the holidays. It was nice, but sad at the same time. I got to spend time with my family, which was amazing… for the most part. I held my mothers hand as we watched my little brothers Christmas Play. I got to watch a Tennessee sunrise, and a Mississippi sunset. I stood in the rain and heard nothing but drops. Saw nothing but the night. No cars. No horns, or sirens. No shouting or flashing neon signs. It was simple. Well, at least nature was. The people there, however; are complicated.

I made the mistake of putting off a haircut until the very end, so there I sat… at Wal-Mart. A young woman sat me down in a chair.  Black hair with a red streak in the front and a tattoo on her arm, she was alternative from where we’re from. She leaned me back and began snipping. She asked where I went to school. Snip. She asked where I grew up. Snip.

She asked what I was doing now. Snip.

She asked if I was married. Snip.

I said no. Snip. Snip.

She announces that she has to introduce me to her cousin. Chris. Or her other cousin Matt, but mainly Chris. Snip.

Now mind you, my hair is in the hands of a woman with very sharp scissors and two male cousins. It’s that assumption that I’m straight. It gets me every time. Seriously. I just don’t get it. What bothers me more though is the fact that I feel like I can’t talk about being a lesbian in a beauty shop of southern women.

The day before I had been in that same store walking through the aisles when a woman a little ways down whispered, “dyke” to her son while staring at me. No reason. I guess she was defining me. Stamping a mental note into her 14 year olds mind. I mean he probably can’t describe Abraham Lincoln, but I’m someone he needs to remember.

She was right.

He should remember me. In fact, we should all be remembered. I appreciate her for taking the initiative to point me out. Maybe one day someone will return her kindness. 

What I love about L.A is, there’s less of that. I had a guy scour when I held hands with a girl once, but that’s nothing like what I saw in Tennessee. He even kept his opinion to himself verbally. All of my friends here could care less that I like women. They even approve. Over lunch, my colleagues and I sit around talking about our weekends, dating life, personal problems. We’ve become sort of a family. Just this past Tuesday I called up a group of them to go to my girlfriends show.

Oh yeah. That’s the other thing I like about L.A.


Seems a little crazy to say, but I’m seeing someone. And not to rub it in, but she’s that holds you through the night and wakes you with a kiss, drives an hour and a half to bring you a space heater when the target two miles from you sold out, calls you beautiful every day kind of woman.  Even as I type it I smile. I miss her. Even when she’s here I miss her. I always wonder if we could get a little closer? Hug a little tighter? Instead I just travel further into her mind and bathe in the beautiful stories she tells. She’s a British musician…

Yes. I will let you all catch your breath.

She has an incredible love for songwriting, and an incredible love for words. I can’t tell you how many times she has left me breathless using her voice alone. Often, I lose my own words in the process.

On New Years Eve I stepped off my plane to find her waiting next to baggage claim. When I walked up to her, her golden red hair glowing in the sunlight, she just smiled and held out a book.

 “In case you lose your words.” she said, as she placed it in my hands.

It was a word search book. I knew then that she would be trouble.

I found from that point forward, I was either with her or thinking of being with her. We’ve walked hand in hand along the beach, cuddled to Pitch Perfect, delivered gift bags to the homeless for New Years, attended a celebrities holiday party and more. This weekend, we will be going to a Social Distortion concert with her cousin, and I’m stoked. Mainly because that’s the next time I’ve scheduled to see her.

I guess that’s why I haven’t written as much lately. I haven’t really had time to assess things. I’ve just been rolling with it and not thinking about where my heart was headed. I enjoy her company. I like doing things with her. I love our conversations.

I am completely open to seeing where things go with her. She’s doing everything right.

Also, I feel some poetry coming on. Maybe not tonight, but soon.

Remember me,


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