A Queer Life

"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...

A millenia ago, there was a TV show called American Idol. I used to watch this show.  All those lifetimes ago, I was also Mormon and subscribed to all those Mormon beliefs; one of which was telling teenaged girls: "When you dress immodestly, you become pornography for men." I was also married to a man who many would describe as "downright abusive"; but he never hit me, so it took me a minute to figure out. Don't worry, I'll connect all these dots in a minute. It was the day after some high profile awards show and the Internet talk was about Jennifer Lopez's nip-slip the night before. I dug deeper trying to figure out what happened. Had her boob just popped out of her dress while presenting? Did she act embarrassed? How did the audience respond? I had trouble finding much except a few benign pictures of her presenting. There was speculation about whether her exposure was on purpose or not. Eventually I found a video of her whole time on stage. It was only...