Wednesday, October 27, 2010

This sidewalk ain't big enough for the two of us...

I have had some bizarre things happen to me when riding home from work on my bicycle, but nothing quite like today.

I took a turn onto a main street that marks the beginning of the last leg of my ride home. Today, I happened to turn into this street just as a small child turned in on the sidewalk about a block further up the street.

He was riding a Wal-Mart special that had obviously seen its better days. It was one of those rugged one-speed kids bikes that you have to pedal backwards to break. He was hauling a backpack much too large for such a small child, and obviously laboring to get up the small slope.

As I passed, I glanced aside to offer a friendly smile as I usually try to do when I pass people. As I caught his eye, however, it wasn’t a friendly smile that he returned. Instead, he wore a challenging stare.

I could almost hear the Western “showdown” music in the background. As I topped a hill and switched into a higher gear, I started to pull ahead. Behind, I could hear the clatter of his Wal-Mart special as he pumped faster, gaining on me. I switched into an even higher gear. The clatter got louder as he continued to gain.

“Screw this,” I thought, as primal instincts took over. “I can totally WIN THIS.” I switched into the highest gear, the gear of epic awesomeness… Gear 7.

As I pumped frantically down the hill, the clattering got even louder. Suddenly, with a WHOOSH, the kid passed, tiny legs pumping so fast they could barely be seen.

As he turned the corner, he flipped me off.

And that is how I got pwned by a 10-year-old.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Biking to work vs. biking home

So, the other day, I realized that there is a fundamental difference between my thought processes when I am biking to work, and when I am biking home.

Basically, when I am on my way to work, it goes like this:



As you can see, on the way to work, the trip is mostly downhill. However, there is one slightly steep uphill that requires some effort. I always feel a little like a superhero, powering up that hill. I can almost hear the theme music playing in the background.

However, when I am on my way home, it looks a little more like this:



Definitely less superhero.

Clearly, the ratio of uphill to downhill should be reversed. Unfortunately, physics refuses to respond to my requests at this time, but perhaps it will get back to me later.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Zombie Love Song

So, a while back a friend requested that I help her write a zombie love song. We collaborated on the lyrics (she mostly came up with the good ideas, I just made the word stress work) and I wrote the music. If I'm lucky, I may get a recording of them performing it, but for now I thought I'd share it here. And if anyone figures out what it takes to attach a midi file to this, maybe I can actually share the tune, too. :P

Lyrics:

I remember the days when we courted,
Your words could set fire to my heart!
Now all you can do is to spurn me,
and I feel like I'm falling apart.

Chorus:
My love, my love, my darling
Why do you treat me this way?
My love, my love, my darling
Without you I rot and decay

I remember the nights that you held me,
Your eyes shone in the pale moonlight.
To keep those eyes safely with me,
From their sockets I’d pluck them tonight
(Chorus)

I imagine our time spent together
Watching the townsfolk expire
I’d behead a small child just for you
And we’d dine by the light of the fire
(Chorus)

And when we are finally united
Our two hearts so eager to mesh
Quite gently I'll nip at your noggin
And relish the taste of your flesh
(Chorus)

Thursday, October 7, 2010

It Gets Better...

When I was a child, and I was upset, stressed out, or just needed to talk, my mom and I would go to Sonic. We would sit in the car, order a cherry Dr Pepper, and just chat. I think I valued these talks more than she could possibly have known. Even when we fought or disagreed, I almost always came away feeling better. I almost never felt oppressed or judged.

The only exception was one talk we had while I was a student at TWU. I can’t remember exactly when it happened. I don’t remember the day. I don’t even remember the exact details that led up to this point in the conversation, except that we were talking about a gay man she had met in one of her classes who had revealed to her that his father had physically and verbally assaulted him after he came out. I can't remember her exact words, but my mother had something like this to say about it:

"I just can't imagine ever not loving my child, no matter how they chose to live their life. I would never, ever do something like that. But just the same, if any of my children /were/ gay, I hope they would never come out to me. I just don't want to know."

That has stuck with me, ever since.

"I just don't want to know."

Sometimes, it seems to me that this is really the way most people feel in the United States today. Most people would never actually commit a hate crime. The violent and the hateful element in society may be loud, but the silent majority just…doesn't want to be forced to think about it.

Unfortunately, if you are reading this, then you are probably someone that I consider a friend. If that is the case, there are some things that you should know, even if it makes you uncomfortable. For my own sanity, I have chosen to say this here, so that you can quietly and discretely un-friend me if you feel uncomfortable.

I am a lesbian.

If you have been paying any attention lately, you probably already know that. Some of you may have guessed it before I did.

However, after certain recent and not-so-recent events, I've realized that maybe people aren't so good at guessing the obvious, so I'll say it again:

I am a lesbian.

I'm not saying this to cause anyone discomfort. I'm not saying it to get attention. I'm saying it because it's true, and if you are my friend, you should know. I reiterate… If this makes you feel uncomfortable, you have my permission to quietly and respectfully de-friend me. Go ahead. I’ll wait.



For those of you who’ve stuck around this long, I have something to say to the world in general. Call it my manifesto, if you will.

I know now that I have nothing to be ashamed about. I have nothing to hide. It is not my fault that some people may be uncomfortable with who I am. It is not my job to make other people comfortable. It is not my job to protect the fragile emotional balance of any other person. I may choose to take on these jobs from time to time, but only when it is not damaging to my own psychological balance.

As a person who has been through this, however, it is my job to help those who may be going through it now, or who may go through it in the future. I can’t very well do this while I’m still keeping it a secret myself. So now it’s out there for everyone to know, and you know what? I’m fine with it.

Out of respect for my mother’s wishes, I will probably never come out to her, so I have one more thing I would like to say… If my mother ever comes across this, I hope she will be able to read it without feeling attacked. It is not my intention to tell the world that she was a bad mother. Rather, it is my intention to educate current and future parents about the ramifications that these small, ill-thought-out comments can have upon your children. I have no doubt that my mother does not remember making this statement. She has always done her best to protect me, as I’m sure most parents do. Just think a little before saying things to your children. Even when you think they’re grown, your words still have an enormous impact.

Furthermore, it is my intention to put myself out here, so that people who haven’t quite reached the point I have will know that they aren’t the only one who has dealt with something like this, and that it is truly possible to come out the other side a whole, sane, capable human being.

It hurts to know that my mother might never know (or rather, want to know!) such an important thing about me. Ultimately, however, it makes me sad for her. I know that she will always love me. Unfortunately, she will never truly know me, and I can honestly say that I now believe that I am a person well worth knowing.