A Queer Life

When your spouse gets a little upset, just remember a simple “calm down” in a soothing voice is all it takes to get them a lot more upset. Hello my pretties! Do you want a little story today? Let's have story time. Personally, I hate wedding culture. I don't hate that it exists, I just hate it for myself. Throwing a big princess party for me and my Ken doll just seems like a giant pretentious embarrassment. And I hate that it is shoved onto women because "that's what women want", when, surprise!, women are not all the same. And nowhere is wedding culture more pronounced than in Mormonism, complete with the castle-temple at the center of your wedding day. Temple marriage is a big deal for Mormons. It is the biggest deal. And I mean the BIGGEST deal.  Because it is such a big deal, every bride-to-be is very proud of their impending temple marriage. Wedding invitations feature the temple, plus the announcement of the wedding inside the giant glowing building. Even if...

Two fish are in a tank. One looks to the other and says, “Do you know how to drive this thing?” Hello my pretties! This morning I thought about my old friend, Angie.  Angie was my best friend from middle school and into college. I went on family trips with her. I knew her grandma and cousins. I cried when I read about her dad's death on Facebook. But Angie was never Mormon, which didn't bother me in middle school but by college when I doubled down on Mormonism, her lack of membership got in the way of our friendship. We probably would have drifted apart sooner or later, even if I wasn't a superior Mormon, but I wish I had been different.  This morning when I thought about her, I realized that I think about her every day, at least I have for the past few years and there are so many people in my life who were important to me and now, despite thinking about them regularly, I barely talk to them. And that makes me sad, but it's also kind of nice thinking of all the people I...

I was writing a blog that turned into two blogs. I kept editing and editing. And the more I edited the more I hated all of it and wanted to throw it away. I hate my writing fairly regularly, sometimes my hatred is valid, sometimes it's not. This time I think it was valid and I'll tell you why, but first I want to tell you about being nine or seven or whatever. When I was seven I got a diary for Christmas. This diary was perfumed and pretty. It had a lock and a ribbon bookmark. I started writing in it right away. I wrote in that journal until I was ten.  Several years ago I found that journal and started reading it. Some entries were funny, some were boring, some were heartfelt. It was nice hearing my little girl voice from those pages but after several entries, I noticed an angry undercurrent running through it. I couldn't finish the journal before reading became too unpleasant and I set it down.  Because I was a kid and I didn't know any different, I didn't recogni...

"Three," we said unanimously about the crazy looking woman walking in the library door.  "And the only reason she gets such a high score is because she is so interesting," Jaime elaborated.  We had been rating people at work for several weeks now; it passed the time and gave us a few laughs. But one day we looked at each other. "We never rate ourselves," I said.  "I'm too scared," he said.  "Yeah." "And really it depends on the day," he added. "Yeah." I looked down, afraid to meet his eye. I didn't want his harsh eye judging me. I didn't even want to judge myself. "Some days I might be as low as a four and others I might be a ten. Depending on how my eyebrows look. Or how skinny I feel. And doesn't personality have a lot to do with attraction?" "Yeah." "A person can increase their score by three or four points just by putting a little effort into their look, having a little co...

I'm back so soon. Blogging has been on the back burner of my mind, and the smell is finally getting to me.  Most of my life I have avoided having a voice. Some people call that being shy. I am shy, but I don't know if avoiding my own humanness and the space I take up, is part of that. But blogging is definitely a way to express myself in a way that is comfortable to me. Dare I even announce that I am considering doing a 30 day challenge to blog every day? I worry that once I announce it, I will run away and stop blogging for two years, or just abandon this blog and start another one where no one can find me. (I'm always doing that. I don't even remember all the random blogs I've started. But, like I said, I run when I know I'm being read. I run when I hear my own voice being echoed back to me through my audience. Making a difference terrifies me. Affecting people terrifies me. Hurting anyone terrifies me. I live in terror. I live in terror. But that's not wh...

It was 2012. I sat on a grassy knoll talking to a friend during a church activity. It was May, the weather was lovely. The details of that moment are still vivid fourteen years later. I remember my white pants and the freckles on my friend's nose.  "It is May," I said.  "Yeah," she closed her eyes under the sunshine with a smile. "It's nice." "In January I saw a flyer for an event in March," I said. "I remember at the time thinking: March is so far away, it will never come. But it will. It did. And now it's May." "Time is like that," she said, blinking and squinting to find her kids. Once satisfied, she leaned back on her elbows in the grass. "There was a day when 2012 seemed like a fantasy. Now it is here. And there will be a day when 2012 is a distant memory and it will only become more distant." "Hmmm." "Time just keeps going. Teasing us and stomping on us and soothing us all at once....