This weekend, we facetimed with my sister-in-law, Amy, about a thousand times. It was pretty entertaining, even if it’s just to see her reaction to stuff.
That’sy wife and my sister-in-law Amy (AKA Lettuce).
She has my favorite dog.
We are birthday twins and like a lot of the same things.
I have never had a sister, but I have to say she was worth the wait.
Also, I may have seen Scary Lettuce for the first time today, so I’m just trying to keep on her good side.
If you don’t know, we have a cat. His name is Graham.
Graham is pretty old — 11 or 12 years. I don’t actually know for sure how old he is, because I am old and my memory isn’t great. My ex and I adopted him when he was about 6 months old. I named him that because he was the color of a graham cracker and definitely not after a queer lady movie character. We brought him into a house with two cats who had been together for 9 years. They got along okay, but he was always kind of a loner.
Then the other cats packed up their U-hauls and moved out, along with my ex, and suddenly Graham went from two mothers and two brothers to just me.
He was pretty confused for a while, and I still say he has abandonment issues because of it. He followed me around after my breakup, constantly yelling at me (he’s very loud) and snuggling with me on the couch and in bed. He used to wait until I turned over on my left side and then stretch himself along my back, falling asleep. That doesn’t happen anymore because there’s a strict “no cats in the actual bed” rule, so he often curls up at my feet, stretching himself along my legs.
He receives two pills a day now, the result of a few vet visits and some uneven thyroid levels. Chris and I have noticed that he still seems to be losing weight. He’s not as puffy and chubby as he used to be, and I can feel his bones now through his skin when I pet him.
I look at him now, curled up on his Poang IKEA chair, sleeping away, oblivious to the TV and his worried mother.
I’ve never lost a pet — he’s the first one I ever really had that was my own — and I’m not looking forward to it. Chris and I think that time might be sooner rather than later, but maybe we are just paranoid.
But he’s happy and not in pain and still playful as a kitten when we bust out the Star Wars laser pointer. And he certainly hasn’t lost his appetite.
Hug your cats extra hard today, friends. And I’ll do the same.
So, I’m sitting on my couch, trying to write about ClexaCon, and part of the problem is that I watched S1E1 of Wynonna Earp on Netflix this morning, and I’m pretty jazzed.
Yes, that’s right. The show I’ve been screaming about for months is on Netflix.
If you haven’t watched it, go do it. Now. Go watch it. It’s amazing and awesome.
Now, I realize not everyone will get the same feelings I did after watching. Maybe you can turn on the TV and see yourself represented no matter what show you choose. Maybe you don’t care about great writing, strong female characters, and queer representation. Maybe you think Val Kilmer is the best Doc Holliday and won’t allow your mind to be changed. Maybe you hate happiness. I don’t know your life!
But if none of those things apply, check it out. I allowed myself to watch the pilot this morning (I have stuff to do so I couldn’t sit down and watch the entire series EVEN THOUGH I WANTED TO), and here are some reasons you should watch, based solely on the pilot.
So, I was at ClexaCon over the weekend and got back late Tuesday night. That meant that I went from working a 3-11pm ET shift to partying until 2am PT to waking up at 5:30am ET on Wednesday. I was basically a zombie and have been chasing sleep the entire week. I was too drained to write anything on the actual 20th anniversary — yesterday — but I figured, hey, I’m only a day late, right?
Sadly, my journey with Buffy did not begin 20 years ago yesterday. I was a latecomer to this show despite my brother’s attempts to get me to watch it. One night in my old apartment — which was either super cold or super hot, depending on the season — I was flipping through the channels and stumbled upon a rerun — Out of Mind, Out of Sight. Coincidentally, this was the only episode I had any interest in watching, as it starred my number-one celebrity crush at the time (and now, really), Clea Duvall. I watched it, probably huddled under a blanket 0r wearing a bikini, and thought, “Okay, that’ll do it.”
Fast-forward five years or so, and my friend M was going through a really bad breakup. Her longtime girlfriend had cheated on her with someone she met on the internet, and M had picked up and moved from their life together in less than two days. A mutual guy friend, D, suggested that we start watching Buffy together as a thing to do after work. They were both single, and I was in a long-distance relationship, so it worked for us. In the beginning, he dictated which episodes we watched and didn’t, as he was the expert and could tell us which ones to skip.
Let’s pause a moment to eye roll at the patriarchy. Fuck you, The Patriarchy!
It’s interesting what sticks with you over the years.
I was raised Roman Catholic. I had two Catholic parents and a Catholic brother. Dave and I attended the same Catholic grade and high schools that my mother graduated from. I attended a Catholic university and received a degree in Theology. So I feel confident in saying that I have, at minimum, a basic understanding of Christianity.
Up until last year, I hadn’t attended mass in quite a few years — At least three. I hadn’t attended regularly since my first year of college (sorry, Mom!), and I hadn’t been back to any other mass since a priest had a bit of gay-bashing in his sermon.
One of my close friends — a devout Catholic– died last year, and I attended her funeral mass. The one thing that stuck with me (other than the fact that the priest refused to shake my right hand, opting for left, despite shaking everyone else’s right) was how many of the hymns I remembered. I guess when you sing them at least twice a week for nine years (Sunday mass plus Wednesday children’s mass during grade school), they stick with you.
As the country is descending into what feels like the darkest place it has in a long time, I see a lot of self-proclaimed Christians speaking out in favor of our president and some of his executive orders, either rumored or fact. “Close the borders!” “Make our country safe from the immigrants!” “Bomb them all and let God figure jt out!” “Don’t make me bake a cake for a gay!” “Jesus says it’s wrong!”
Sigh.
I’m reminded of the Prayer of St. Francis.
Make me a channel of your peace
Where there’s despair in life let me bring hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there’s sadness ever joy…
And also “Whatsoever You Do.”
Whatsoever you do to the least of my people
That you do unto me
Also “Let There Be Peace on Earth,” a personal favorite of a longtime priest at my home parish.
Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now.
With every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow.
To take each moment
And live each moment
With peace eternally.
Let there be peace on earth,
And let it begin with me
And just a good, old-fashioned bible quote.
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” John 13:34
Jesus would not have turned away immigrants, nor would he have supported a thinly veiled law for “religious freedom” that seeks to deny the rights of LGBTQIA folks (or, as one of these Christians said to me, “LGBTXYZ or whatever”). He wouldn’t have approved of violence against Muslims, Christians, atheists, gays, or, you know, anyone.
When you want to “make America great again,” remember that you, too, are most likely descended from immigrants and that this “great” country was built on the backs of slavery and genocide, two things Jesus most certainly did not condone or support. Please be mindful of the “greatness” you are claiming you want to go back to.
Whether you believe in them or not, I would hope you could agree that the stories of Jesus paint a picture of a man who put love above all else.
If you consider yourself a Christian, I would just ask that you examine your life and do the same.
lesbiyinzer 