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Entries in family (10)


On being who I am

I don’t discuss gay and lesbian issues often on my blog. It is not because I am shy, as I’m sure you’ve all figured out, but rather because the main theme of my blog is humor.  You may often see me refer to my lifestyle in some tongue-in-cheek humorous way.  I fondly write of my infatuation with Jennifer Lopez, and for that, I offer no apologies. Ahem.

All that being said, I am who I am.  And proud, as I should be. Still, I am not a card-carrying, politically centered, save the world with a lesbian sitting like a cherry on top (absolutely no pun intended here…I do confess to a giggle when I thought about it, though) kinda girl. My partner and I have been together sixteen years and married for fifteen.  No, we are not legally married, but ours is just like any other long-term marriage, full of memories, strife, joy and tears. 

I think the reason I wanted to write about being who I am is the fact that I can. No one will shoot me, fire me, or treat me with disrespect.  Oh, some may hate me because of who I am, but I choose to disregard the existence of said hatred and bigotry.  Life is too short to walk around with your head hung and your eyes to the ground.  My enemy is not my haters, but rather my lack of resistance to negativity.  I am getting stronger every day, though, and that enemy gets a little smaller every time I let go of the pain, fear and frustration that comes from my being judged as anything less than equal.

Today the times, they are a changin’!  And thank God for that. Gay people can legally marry in several states and whether you like it or not, we are here to stay.  We’ve always been here, but now we don’t have to live in the shadow of society’s description of normal. 

No, it’s not perfect yet, probably never will be, but the same can be said for equal rights for any minority. It will be a continuous struggle to maintain what we’ve accomplished so far, and make progress for generations to come. 

So when I say I’m proud to be who I am, I say that with a reverent and somber voice, but also a gleeful exuberance filled with hope.  I am also proud to say that my family and my friends share in this hope and open their hearts and minds to those of us who may be just a little different than them.  They step aside their differing political beliefs because they love me for exactly who I am.  Congress could learn a lesson from my dear friends and relatives, indeed!

Life is one big wonderful rollercoaster ride.  I choose to ride hard. I choose to ride without guilt, prejudice, judgment and hatred.  I choose to be true to myself.  Only then can I be of any use to others. 

In concluding, I would like to sing the praises of several blogs I support and enjoy. Please visit them when you have some time.  I know you will want to return again and again:

Erin L. Margolin, The Road to my Writer Roots 

The Gay Dad Project

Lesbian Family

Up Popped a Fox 

Lesbian Dad  




The day after tomorrow will be my 59th Christmas. I can hardly believe it. Seems like just yesterday, I was sneaking into my parents’ closet, trying to find Santa’s stash. My little sister, hot on my heels, still believed in Santa, so I had to make up a lot of excuses why there were toys in that closet. Back then, she followed me everywhere. She was the cutest little thing. Everyone loved her, as they do now.  She’s still the cutest little thing, topping off at a sassy 4 feet 11 inches tall…and gorgeous.  Only now she’s not my little shadow.  I miss her so very much! She and I had a lot of Best Christmases Ever together.

Trying to think back and name the Best Christmas Ever was a huge challenge because I have had many that could easily rank in that category. I have been so blessed in this life of mine.

This year, for example, would have to be among those ‘best’ Christmases.  And why, you ask, especially since Christmas hasn’t happened yet?  Well, a few weeks ago, I proclaimed to the world that the only thing I really wanted for Christmas was for my best friend Mary to make it through her multiple heart bypass operation and get well.  And she, indeed, did make it through, thank God…and is on that all-important road to recovery.  No matter what else I get, my Christmas is complete.  Absolutely a Best Christmas Ever!

Thinking back to my childhood once again, our Christmases were full of family and food.  Another cherished memory was our stockings.  My sister and I hung knee socks up for Santa to fill.  We didn’t have the fancy red stockings with our names on them.  Santa filled our stockings with nuts, candy, oranges and apples, and we loved every bite.  We didn’t expect some expensive presents in our stockings. We only knew that our stockings were full and Santa had not forgotten to come to our house.  I get a bit misty eyed when I think of those days.  Makes me want to hug my Dad.  So even though I can’t name any single Christmas of my childhood, I can name our ‘knee socks’ stockings as a major factor of many Best Christmases Ever.

Another Best Christmas Ever was when my oldest son was just a toddler. We were in the Air Force and stationed in North Carolina. My Dad and Mom made the trip from Atlanta to spend Christmas with us. It was one of the last times my Mom really spent any time with my son, before alcoholism and then dementia stole her away from us.  She wasn’t fully sober during that time, either, but at least she had her good days.  That Christmas, she had several good days, and we had a beautiful holiday together, watching Abe tear through the many wonderful toys brought from Santa, Grandpa and Grandma.  I cry now but I wouldn’t take anything for those memories.

My next memory was actually a Christmas Eve when my youngest son, Glenn was three years old. He wanted a play kitchen for Christmas.  (Little did I know he’d grow up to be such a good Vegan cook!).  My husband had a bad case of the flu and could not get out of bed.  Christmas Eve arrived and I put Glenn to bed, and then tried to tackle a big box full of boards and pieces and parts that needed to transform into a little kitchenette. I was not in my comfort zone, to put it mildly.  So, I called up my best friend Mary and told her I didn’t know what I was going to do.  I was, and always have been, carpentry challenged, and everyone knew this.  Mary saved the day, however, by coming over and helping me put that kitchenette together.  I opened some wine, we gathered tools from the garage, and after a lot of drinking, laughing, and smashed fingers, we did it.  Then we placed the kitchenette at the bottom of the stairs so it would be the first thing Glenn would see when he woke up.  The next morning, he literally sat down and slid down the stairs with glee.  It was one of the Best Christmases Ever!

As I’ve grown older and the kids have grown up, Christmases are quieter and sometimes lonely.  I try to stave off feeling sorry for myself, however, because I have healthy, happy kids and grandkids, a job, a partner, a nice place to live, and people who love me. That’s what matters. I count those blessings every day, not just Christmas.  So as my 59th Christmas is upon me, I know that I will enjoy some good wine and some even better memories of all the Best Christmases Ever.  

I wish each and every one of you a BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!  Please feel free to share a Best Christmas Ever moment with us!








Can't stop the feelings

The following post should probably be presented (in person) to a licensed psychiatrist or therapist, but I don’t have the money.  So you all get to be my shrinks.  No worries.  You don’t have to do anything.  Just read.  I just need to get some things out of my head before it explodes.  My apologies in advance.  There’s an open bar if you can find the cocktail waitress.


It is 2:20 pm and I’ve been sitting in the living room most of the day.  In fact, I just woke up from a forty-winker that was spent sitting straight up in my lounge chair.  I must possess some special talent to be able to get my Z’s in a fully upright position.  It couldn’t possibly be my getting old(er). Yea, it’s got to be talent.  We’ll go with that.

But let’s get back to the reason for this post.

Sitting in the living room all day without doing anything is not normal.  Not my normal anyway. I got up this morning with more back pain than usual, after having a restless night. I didn’t start the day out right.  I tried writing a witty blog after breakfast, and ended up moving it right over to the Recycle Bin, in a huff.  Because. It. Was. Not. Funny. At. All.

At 9 am my time, I listened to a radio show that was streamed live on the internet from Kansas City.  That was one of the only worthwhile parts of my day so far.  My friend Erin Margolin and her Dad were guests on a local Kansas City radio station, talking about The Gay Dad Project.  It was a well-spent hour.  If you’d like to know more about it, please visit their website at  Listening to Erin’s heartfelt words to her Dad about his coming out when she was 15 brought me back to 24 years ago, when I came out to my son, and then left my husband.  My other son was too young to understand at the time.  I wonder just how much I hurt them by coming out.  I know it was something I had to do, but what a price to pay for freedom! 

So that’s on my mind.

After awhile, I stared at the TV while a deluge of dark and/or weird thoughts flooded my brain.  Questions about my life….all unanswered or with unacceptable answers.

  • What will I do now that I’m finished with school?
  • When is the second Hunger Games movie coming out?
  • Will I actually ever publish my second book? 
  • Are the kids doing okay?  I mean really okay?
  • How am I going to get through Christmas?  
  • Why can’t I make a decent pot of chicken ‘n dumplings? 
  • Am I depressed or just hyped up on sugar again?

I sat there and thought about things.  Like a zombie. Only zombies don’t think, do they?

You see what I mean?  Useless. Pity Party Central. All Aboard!

My best friend undergoes an open-heart, multi-bypass operation tomorrow, and my mind keeps going back to her every few minutes. I just want it to all turn out okay.  My head hurts, my heart is breaking, and my stomach is in knots.  I wish I could be there with her.  Thank God her family is all around her, though.  She’s very, very loved.  She’s that kind of person. 

But that’s not all that has me feeling today.  I wish I could just turn my feelings off.  It seems, when I let myself slow down long enough to feel, all the feelings of every kind, even remotely associated with my life…rush in.  All at once.

So I don’t know how I’m feeling.  I just am.    



Thinking Thursday

I’m always about the new. The change. The adventure. I want to see, hear, feel, taste, and experience life. Not just today but every day.

Yes, I can be profound when I apply myself.

However, not today.  You won’t find deep, intellectual thoughts lurking here today. But if you dig deep, you might just find a chuckle or two. My gift to you.  With love and kisses. 

Don’t be frightened. Unlike a writer in a stream of consciousness, I may or may not filter out any impure, mundane, or otherwise non-pertinent thoughts.  I may include a couple truths, though. It’s how I roll.

But don’t let that stop you from reading.  If you came here to be entertained, I am thoroughly convinced you are in the right place.

My first thought is a collage of “That’s just not fair!” thoughts and images in my mind.  

  • Shawn and Derek should have won Dancing with the Stars.
  • Someone I know should have won Powerball
  • Chocolate covered cherries should have a lot less calories. 

Just sayin…As I wipe chocolate off the corner of my big mouth, sporting a Cheshire cat grin and a cheap chocolate high.  I’m good.  Oh yes.

In the category of “Should never have happened. Ever. Never ever.”  I offer up this video found on YouTube featuring redneck Gangnam style (dancing?).  I have no words for this .  Just turn up your sound and try not to turn away from the screen in horror. 



The next category in my Thursday thinking extravaganza is “How freaking amazing is that?”    First of all, my son Glenn reached a 100 pound weight loss today.  He texted me with a picture of the scale.  He is a rock star, I tell ya.  And one handsome dude, if I do say so myself.  Congratulations son!  No jokes here. Not even about eating all that lettuce.  Just giving out respect.  Wow. (I would post a picture but he says he’s not ready to go public yet.)

Another category in my thoughts today is “Wasted thoughts and wasted wine.”  First of all, wasted wine should never ever EVER happen.  It’s a crime in all fifty states, I’m quite sure. If not, it should be. As for wasted thoughts, I can’t help those.  They happen.   Here’s just a few.  There are way too many to mention them all:

  • The longer my hair gets, the more often I have to vacuum.
  • I still have the Halloween bowl on my dining room table.  Right beside the cornucopia. Which is right beside the plastic Santa.  Boom!  I’m covered until 2013, bitches!
  • Did I get all my porn videos (and other paraphernalia) put away before the kids visited?  Gosh I hope so.
  • I wish my Dad could mail me his famous chicken ‘n dumplings.  
  • All I want for Christmas is to be blessed, happy, loved, healthy, successful, gorgeous, brilliant, talented, and rich. That’s all.
  • Do women have ‘junk’, or is that term just reserved for men?
  • Do men have a ‘rack’ or is that term just reserved for women?  Curious minds want to know these things.
  • Does Santa have a rack or just junk?  And does he fulfill ‘adult’ requests?  I don’t mean physically.  That would just be wrong.


My final Thursday thoughts are “Important things happening in December”.  I graduate with my Master of Arts degree in December. Rock on, me! Go Terri. Go Terri…

However, the most important thing happening in December is quite serious, and I hope that you will all join me with your prayers, thoughts and good wishes. My best friend Mary will be undergoing a multiple-heart-bypass operation very soon.  She has been through a lot, but still remains the hopeful, delightful, special woman she has always been, and she has my heart.  If only I could make my heart work for both of us….



This ‘Thinking Thursday’ post is dedicated to my dearest friend Mary. Keep smiling, my beautiful friend.  Your smile makes the world a better place.  I love you.






**Some images from Google Images


Of points and poundage

Losing weight is an age-old ambition of millions. There are a gazillion ways to lose weight:  Diet plans, cleanses, exercise, fasting, Ex-Lax, eating disorders, and regimens.  There are some very famous diets out there too:  Atkins Diet, Grapefruit Diet, South Beach Diet, Mediterranean Diet, High-Protein Diet, and Cabbage Soup Diet.  A few not-so-famous ones come to mind as well:  The For God Sakes, Doctor, just wire my mouth shut Diet, the One Donut, Two Hours on the Treadmill Diet, and my personal favorite, The Trash Can Diet.  How’s that one work, you ask?   Well, you empty the refrigerator and cupboards, then live off whatever you can salvage from your trash can.  (Bugs don’t count!  No fair cheating with extra protein)  It is cost-effective and gentle on the environment.  It’s a win-win, if you will. 

There are tried-and-true testimonials of weight-loss successes plastered all over the media. Jared, for example, is a big star now, and all from eating his way through a pile of sandwiches into history-making, slenderizing oblivion. Oprah has been very successful at losing weight; she even gained the weight back several times, just so she could experience the success of losing it again.  You gotta love that logic! Weight Watchers and Jenny Craig always have big super stars representing their brand.  We common folk are supposed to be so moved by seeing our favorite stars losing weight that we have to join up and fight the good fight right along with them.  I mean, doesn’t everyone want to look like Kirstie Ally?  Just sayin…

And then there’s yours truly.

I have tried all of the above diets and weirdness at some time in my life, and I am a walking testimonial that there is no quick fix to weight loss.  Diet pills won’t get you to Slim City and eating cabbage soup all day every day won’t bring you Nirvana.  Of course, all that farting probably feels good.  But Nirvana good?  I think not.

Folks, you have to do two things in order to lose weight.  You have to starve eat less and have a lot of sex move more.  Bon bons and the easy chair are not your friends, people!  

My ears are hearing this.  My brain does not compute.

 Don’t even try telling me I can’t sit in my easy chair and eat bon bons!  I don’t take too well to commands.   Oh I could throw out the bon bons and the easy chair, but I guarantee you that within 24 hours I would be propped up on my comfy couch with a big plate of nachos.  It’s what I do…cheat test the limits.  On the upside, I am consistent.


All kidding aside, I have been on the Weight Watcher counting points diet for around 9 weeks now and I’m down twenty pounds.  I don’t recommend this diet for people like me who hate math.  I keep losing track of my points and starting over.  That’s why I’m losing so slowly, I guess.  They need to invent a Weight Watchers for the mathematically disadvantaged. 

My son was doing the Weight Watchers program with me until the Vegan gods took over and lured him into their cult into the fold.  He is now all into whole foods and making pizzas without anything resembling pizza dough or toppings.  It’s a downright shame is what it is.  I cannot imagine not eating meat.

Don’t get me wrong, people. I like tofu as much as the next girl, but beef is what’s for dinner and I’m plenty hungry.

So my son has lost well over 60 pounds so far and I’ve only lost 20.  Who’s right? Who’s got it all together? Who’s going to succeed all the way?

My definitive answer to my own question is:   BOTH OF US!

So if you happen to meet up with me and I have something in my mouth that shouldn’t be there, feel free to yank it loose and slap me into reality.  Will it help?  Probably not. But I’ll enjoy the attention.

If you happen to meet up with my son, go on ahead and shake his hand or give him a hug and congratulate him on his success.  Words cannot really express how very proud I am of his determination and perseverance.  He will succeed. He’s already a winner.  We both are.




Monday Listicles - Ten Thanks


Happy Monday!  I’m linking up with the lovely Stasha over at The Good Life for Monday Listicles.  This week’s list is Ten Thanks.  I have lots of those so let's get started, shall we?   So here goes:


  • Thanks to the wonderful staff at St Rose Hospital, my partner is in excellent hands, improving, and should be coming home within a couple days. For those of you who I don’t connect with on Face book, my partner had a bad fall in the bathroom Thursday, slipped and cracked two ribs which punctured a lung. She is in the hospital, having the excessive blood drained from her chest.  The procedure is going well and she’ll soon be home enjoying my fine nursing (???) skills…well, maybe not so fine, but I can warm up as many cans of chicken soup as she wants. And fluff her pillows. No seriously, I mean that.
  • Thanks to Mother Nature for finally giving Las Vegas a break from the 114 degree temps, and also giving us some much needed rain.  It’s humid here, but actually nice for a change.
  • Thanks to Jennifer Lopez for being Jennifer Lopez.  ‘Nuff said.
  • Thanks to “Big Brother” and “Big Brother After Dark”. I finally have something to watch this summer.
  • Thanks to all you amazing people who bought my book, Sara’s Sleep.  Please pass the word for me and if you haven’t provided a Review on Amazon, I would very much appreciate the feedback.  Click HERE for the link. 
  • Thanks to Apple for my new job. I am beyond thrilled. I’m sure the power company, the gas company, the phone company, the cable company, and my insurance broker are also experiencing bouts of squealing delight, as well.
  • Thanks to red wine. And white wine. And champagne. And margaritas. And pie. Almost any kind of pie.
  • Thanks to air-conditioning. I cannot stress this one enough.
  • Thanks to my friends and family who have called me lately…exactly when I needed it the most. You know who you are. I love you and cherish you all. You keep me sane. I’m not kidding.
  • Thanks to my partner Joan. I’m so glad you’re going to be okay. You are tough but now you know that you can break. So please be more careful, okay? 

Monday Listicles - Ten things I love about my Dad

Happy Monday!  I’m linking up with the lovely Stasha over at The Good Life for Monday Listicles.  This week’s list is Ten things about my Dad.  I could make a list of tens of tens about my Dad, and it would all be amazing.  I have that great of a Dad.  He's got it all, folks, and I'm here to shout it to the blogosphere.  I HAVE a SUPER DAD!    


  • His unconditional love and support.
  • When I was 8 years old, my Dad made me a bicycle. He built it from the ground up. It was purple and the most beautiful bike a little girl could ever want.
  • His wit.  He tells silly jokes, and sometimes over and over again.  But I love each and every one.  Well maybe not the ones about snot.
  • When I was 13 years old, Dad drove me and my date to my first prom.  My date and I sat in the back seat.  It was amazing how we ever made it to the prom alive because Dad’s head was turned around watching us the whole time.  Scared the heck out of my date.  I'm pretty sure my Dad was fine with that.
  • His wisdom.  Dad doesn’t have a bunch of degrees, but he can build and fix anything.  He knows more about gardening and cooking than a room full of Martha Stewart's, and he is an avid reader.
  • When I was 15, my Dad took me out in his souped-up, vintage '57 Ford, and tried to teach me to drive a stick shift.  I was an idiot and ended up running the car into a ditch in a panic.  Only, I didn't stop there, I kept the foot on the gas pedal while the tires dug into the mud.  I ruined Dad's car.  He didn't even get mad.  But Mom did.  Oh boy...
  • His compassion.  Dad loves with everything he has.  His heart is as big as Texas.  His hands are tough from hard work, yet his embrace is gentle and kind.  Just look at his handsome face. His smile tells it all.
  • When I was 20, and had just had my first baby, Dad drove all the way from Atlanta to Wichita Falls, Texas, to see me and his first grandson.  My Mom had flown out, and we didn’t expect my Dad to make it because of work, but he did.   I’ll never forget the look of love on his face when I handed him his grandson.
  • His charm.  My Dad treats all women and girls like ladies.  He pulls out chairs, holds doors, carries packages.  He’s “old school” charming, and I don’t know many women who don’t appreciate that.
  • When I was 35 and finally told my Dad I was a lesbian, he had many things to say.  Things like, “You’re my daughter, and whoever you love is up to you. I love you no matter what.”   And when I brought my first female partner home to meet him, he welcomed her with open arms, as he has all my partners.  And yes, he laid on the “charm” for her, too.

 Can you tell I’m proud of my Dad?   If not, I have ten more reasons.  And if you’re still not convinced, ten more after that.  And so on and so on...   

 MY Dad Rocks!



WTFriday? Focus challenged. Daydream believer.

Whenever I have trouble focusing, I find it helpful to sit down and make a list.  It doesn’t have to be a list of things on which to focus, although it probably should be.  I’m no authority on this subject, so don’t take any notes.  Take this post, for example. If you just read every other word and string them together, you’ll find a secret message that is much more entertaining than my rambling on about focusing.

Not really.

There’s no secret message. 

Did I catch anyone?  Rolling on the floor laughing my ass off. 

I suddenly have an amusing visual of my little sister writing down every other word, as instructed, and then reading the list of words out loud.  When finished, she wads the paper up and throws it at the computer, while screaming my name with colorful adjectives.  “What the fuck, Terri?  That ain’t right, teasing me like that.  I can’t help it if I’m short and I don’t catch on fast.  I’m gonna kick your ass next time I see you.  I mean it!” 

Okay maybe not.   Sorry LIL Sis.  You may be the vertically-challenged one, but I’m the one with the depleting brain cells.  Just this past Wednesday, I blew an interview because I didn’t understand the rules of the scenario in which I had been thrust.  It was one of those group interviews where they corral a bunch of people in together and make everyone watch everyone else fuck up.  I was one of those fuck-ups, and consequently, I did the walk of shame right out the door. 


So back to focusing.  I’m having a difficult time with that this week, and not just because of the terminal job hunt.  Here’s a visual list of reasons I can’t focus.  If you get bored, you can “focus” on all the pretty colors!   It’s a win-win the way I see it.

Number one.  The job hunt.  Always in the back of my mind.  Never goes away. Constant source of irritation.  I am so mad at number one, I’m not even going to supply a picture.  Fuck number one.

 Number two.  Finals week.  The rush to finish boring research papers and online exams.  Math sucks. I’m seeing independent variables and tangible something-or-others in my sleep.  Blarney poop. 

Number three. Wedding Bells are Ringing!   This is what I would rather focus on!  Abe and Amanda will be wed here in Vegas next weekend.  I’m so excited!  I love weddings, I love my son and new daughter-in-law-to-be.  Younger son arrives from Orlando on Wednesday. Abe and Amanda's entourage arrives from Boise on Thursday. Who wants to think about school and job hunts when wedding bells are ringing and love is in the air?  sigh....

Number four.  Sara’s Sleep.  I’m always thinking about my new novella and its upcoming launch as an eBook and on Paperback on Amazon.  Just last night, I received the cover art for the book and it is stunning, as you can see!  I was humbled.  The colors are amazing and the professionalism shines.   Karla, Katie, and Lin over at Adoro Books designed and created the cover and I am in lusty love. What a rush! 

This beats tequila shots, double vanilla lattes, and In-N-Out burgers, hands down.  My head has swollen up so big, I can hardly hold it up.  I may need a twelve step program for the over-inflated opinion I have of myself.  It could be terminal. 

Breathe, Terri.  Take deep breaths.

Focusing...Highly overrated.  

Daydreaming…Now there’s a worthwhile activity.