I decided to try cook something harder than the usual fried southern cooking. I decided to try to cook some nice Italian food since I know it’s my Mom’s favorite.(Plus I didn’t really have enough money to take the parents out on a nice trip to a fancy Italian restaurant like Olive Garden.)

So I looked up some recipes online and found three foods that I could cook, that weren’t too hard.

And I thought “This should be easy! Plus afterwards I will get the adoration of my parents! Which could lead to them giving me more money to shop with! A win-win situation!”

Luckily most of the ingredients that I need were already in the house so I was all ready to go except my parents randomly decided to try to encourage sisterly love by forcing me to let them help.

Greaaaat.

First off let me say that trying to keep a 6 and 10 year old safe and on task is hard especially with a rebellious  teenager blocking me at every turn.

But I was determined to try and make the best of what I had. First I started with the pasta witch turned out pretty good except for the fact  that my sisters assumed any meat could be added to the sauce. So they decided to try and add some hot dog meat to my beautiful tomato sauce!

After calmly telling them that they could not put that type of meat in the sauce the little one burst into tears think I hated her.

Great.

Father heard her crying and told me to just leave her be.

After apologizing to her and giving her a loving hug, I told the  rebellious  teenager to start with the cake and let the two youngest ones help out .

She gave me a smirk which made m wonder what was going through that little evil head of hers. But I decided to leave it be and start on the Italian bread I had made.

After I was done with the bread I went to try and help out the girls with making the cake.

They threw a fit claiming that I wanted to sabotage the cake and that I wanted to make them look bad.

Mother stepped in and told me to leave those poor youngling alone.

Auuugh.

Whatever. I decided to leave them alone and wait until dinner to exact vengeances.

When dinner came I sat my parents down and presented them with the pasta.

“Wait is there hotdogs in this sauce?” After telling them that yes there were indeed hotdogs in the sauce they simply shook their heads.

Overall my parents said that we did a good job. They like the bread but simply loved the cake RT made. As they were raining praises on RT’s head she turned and sent a smirk in my direction.

Sometimes Sisters are soooo bloody evil.

But if you don’t want to watch that, basically Charlie St. Cloud is a young man overcome by grief at the death of his younger brother. So much so that he takes a job as caretaker of the cemetery in which his brother is buried. Charlie has a special lasting bond with his brother though, as he can see him. Charlie meets up with his brother  each night to play catch and talk. Then, a girl comes into Charlies life and he must choose between keeping a promise he made to Sam, or going after the girl he loves.(IMBD Summary)

So as you can see this is somewhat of a very lame very girly movie. But I  really wanna see it anyway!

Why?

Because Zac Efron is in it.I don’t know what it is about the man but everytime I see him I have the sudden urge to hug him.I mean I memorized every high school musical dance and song ever sung!(Even though honestly I hated Vanessa Hudgens charachter in the movie, she just really pissed me off so much…)

Anyway I have to admit that i have a small obsession with Zac , that may cost me some major cool point because of this but damn it! He soo adorable!!! I mean I like other actor beside him like Will smith and Denzel Washinton so dosen’t that even out my love of Zac ?

If not I leave you with this…at least I’m not a Twilight fan !

I like wedding shows.

Yeah.

I mean I don’t Tivo every wedding show on cable. I’m not that bad but I do like watching “Say yes to the dress” and “Battle of the wedding designers” on TLC.

They are very entertaining and plus I like seeing people have a happy ending. The reason I bring this topic up is that my mother has had a lot of customers getting married.

Of course since I can find a job for the summer my mother has dragged me along so I could help her out with work. (which I have no clue why, she just leaves me in the car or near the buffet when we get there anyway.)

But this time my mother was friends with the bride’s mother and we were invited to her first born’s after party wedding. We met the family and friends and then that’s when my mother seem to look at me differently. Like she just noticed that she has a almost twenty year old daughter, marriage must come in only a couple of years. Despite the fact that  I have told her repeatedly that I don’t want kids and that it would be a rarity for me to get married.

My mother then goes on a tangent about how one day I will find a man just for me, and that we shall give her lots of grand babies .

Uggg.

Besides the whole marrying a dude thing, I actually I would love to get married to the girl of my dreams, if it was legal.

But I’m not really to tell my mom “Hey mom I would love to get married but inted of a male groom I will have a woman there! Isn’t that just great?!”

Uh no.

I hate pretending I have no romantic interest in anyone just to hide the fact that I’m gay from them. I hate it but on the other hand I don’t want to risk my parents kicking me out when I’m halfway through college and no mean to support myself just in case.

But hopefully I won’t have to worry about any of these things  soon…hopefully.

I have a problem with faggots.

“look up in the tree. What do I see? I see a faggot trying to pee on me. I pick up a rock. Threw it at his cock.” – Balloon Boy and his siblings rapping in a YouTube video now removed from the site. (10/18/09)

The first time I was called a faggot was in first grade. A stray dog had crawled under our porch and had puppies and I wanted to take my favorite one to school for show and tell. I carried a small black puppy the half mile up our gravel lane to the bus stop, but the driver wouldn’t let me on with a dog. Bawling and screaming, I ran back home carrying the puppy with the bus driver and my brother in hot pursuit. Mom met us at the edge of our property, took the dog and sent me back to the bus with the driver. Still crying, I took my seat and the high school jock in front of me turned around and disdainfully said, “Shut up, you stupid little faggot. Boys don’t cry.” The entire busload of kids laughed at me and showered me with a chorus of “Faggot!”s. It took me three days to find out what it meant.

I didn’t touch that puppy again. I insisted we keep the small brown one instead.

I have a problem with faggots.

In fifth grade we did a production of Swiss Family Robinson and I was picked to play the father. I was proud to be chosen for such an important role and practiced every night. During rehearsal one day, I was giving it my all and using hand gestures to dramatically illustrate the character’s dialogue. While I earned praise from the teacher, when I took my seat again another boy two rows back whispered “Faggot!” loud enough for the class to hear, but not the teacher. The class twittered and giggled at me.

I couldn’t say the words anymore. I would stand on stage, my cue long past, the words frozen by that single, whispered word. Another boy took my place and I was relegated to a non-speaking role. I pretended to be sick on performance night so I wouldn’t have to watch him do my part. Me. The faggot.

I have a problem with faggots

“Faggot Kid! You don’t know what real marriage is!” – a teacher at Glen Waverly Secondary College to a student who questioned whythe teacher was ripping down posters for a gay rights rally. (10/20/09)

I started piano lessons in elementary school. I was a quick study and became quite advanced for my age. The music teacher found out from my mother that I played piano and asked me to play in front of the class. In a panic, I chose the most masculine piece I could think of - the Marine’s Hymn. Apparently it wasn’t butch enough.

Walking to the bus after school, a classmate tripped me and sent me sprawling on the sidewalk. “Faggot,” he said as he passed me laying on the ground as the other kids laughed and pointed at my scattered books and seeping tears.

I refused to play again until I was a high school senior even though I won several contests across the state. I made sure it was a love song I could perform with a girl - Somewhere Out There. I even dated her and tried desperately to make it work – to make the square peg fit the round hole – but I couldn’t deny what I already knew. They were right; I was a faggot.

I have a problem with faggots.

“This is a fight, and as I said in one of my songs ‘there is no end to the war between me and faggot’ and it’s clear.” – homophobic Jamaican singer Buju Banton last week after an unknown assailant released pepper spray during a concert. (10/16/09)

When I was a teenager, my boyfriend and I shared three newspaper delivery routes for the afternoon Gazette. One day he didn’t want to do the deliveries and stayed home and I had to deliver almost 200 papers by myself. As I’d finished up the job – proud of myself for handling it all on my own – a Ford LTD went past with a load of other students in it. As they passed someone threw a glass Pepsi bottle at me and screamed “Faggot!” as it shattered on my handlebars, cutting my arm.

I rode home leaving a trail of blood drops and quit the paper route the next day. That night I thought about suicide for the first time. Who’d miss the faggot?

I have a problem with faggots.

“Everyone in the military says ‘faggot’ and ‘homo’ every 10 minutes. It’s like a synonym for ‘buddy.’?” – Quote from a soldier in an Advocate cover story on gays in the military (November 09 issue)

I stayed at a homeless shelter only once. Three men raped and beat me, calling me “faggot” over and over and over as they shoved my head into a bucket of dirty mop water until I quit struggling. I stared at the pockmarked concrete floor of the utility closet while they took turns fucking me and hitting me with a broom handle until I lost consciousness. Bruised and bleeding, I came to myself and crawled into the hallway where I met one of the attackers walking out of the restroom. “Get on your feet, faggot,” he said to me as he hit me across the face.

I spoke to the police. They did nothing. Men can’t get raped. Since I was a “faggot,” I’d probably begged the attackers to rape me.

That night I attempted suicide.

I have a problem with faggots.

I’ve forgotten how many times I’ve been called a faggot; the memories have blurred into one long mesmerizing stream with various incidents standing out more sharply than others. I wish I could forget them all.

I have a problem with faggots.

So I was really just expecting my fellow bloggers to respond. Not only did they respond but this dude tried to make my blog seem like it was the battle of ” the church v.s. the gay”. So he  is raining on my bloody parade and decided to share my post to all his Christian followers on freaking twitter….

Now I’m not really a…meanie about who see’s my blog. It’s open and I don’t use names or pictuers, but still I don’t like the snarky comments I had to delet because of that man’s twitter judgemnent on my life.

So this is just a reminder people.

Go ahead post a rude/inappropriate comment and I’ll delete it.Continue to do it and you will be banned forever and added on my Sh** list.

And you really don’t want to be on my bad side .

Now excuse me while I go punch a wall..

As I grew older  I didn’t really lose faith per say but I did start asking a lot questions that my parent’s weren’t particularly  thrilled about.

For example: “God’s perfect right then why is God referred as male? Wouldn’t God have no gender?”

“Why is it all right to do this but not that?”

“Does God really hate homosexuality?”

Well that last one was whispered to the walls of my room.Because as I was in high school I was conflicted between my faith and my budding sexuality and was one very confuse baby dyke.

This was when the war between the church v.s. the gay came to the fore front, thanks to Bush administration fanning the flames.And I felt more and more hurt and sadden by what I thought was a blatant attacks towards me from the religion I have dedicated most of my life to.

So I started to drift away from the more organized church part of the religion and focused more on getting my faith back.

My parent’s noticed (especially my mother) and started riding me on how important church and faith is and how I’m disrespecting the church by not putting on a dress  and I wouldn’t find a god fearing man if I continue my ignorant ways.

But what they don’t seem to get is that my views of religion have changed as I got older and that I’m my own person now. I mean really! I’m almost 20 freaking year old and they treat me like I’m 12!

They seem to think that if they force my into going to our new church that I’ll suddenly break down and realized how wrong I was and go back to how I was when I was younger. (Which I highly doubt will happen.)

But I just can’t seem to connect with the church at all since when we went there and  they started waving papers around saying how homosexuality is a sin and we must protect the sanity of marriage and blah blah blah.

So I went to the church with a frown and not a very warm welcome.Don’t get e wrong the people there are very nice and supportive but that one-act seem to condemn  in my heart .So I couldn’t , in my mind give them another chance, at hurting me again.

Thus start the guilt trip , yet again, by my mother. She comments how I don’t seem to want the be there(I really don’t), and I don’t seem into god(which is not true) and why I’m not more involved like my younger sister(because I’m not a sheep).

So my mom basically tells me I will go to church whether I like or not and I’m going to be happy about it as long as I am in her house.

Ugggh.

I can’t really sit down with my mother and say “Mom the reason I don’t really connect with the church is because they don’t like Queers and well I am one… Great huh?”

So right now I have to grin and go to a church that I don’t really understand , and be happy about it.

Sorry about the mini rant I just am kinda pissy right now….Forgive me..

But that hasn’t been going acrroding to plan.My mother keeps on saying “No.” or saying she’s to busy for this and all this run around is giving me a major headach!

The reason I push so hard for her to to get healthy is simply , it’s because she’s unhealthy.And she knows it! That’s what kills me!

I know that I’m not as healthy as I should be but at lest I try to be.I don’t want to end up like my grandparents who died before seeing my two younger sisters.And they all died from heart problem doing exactly what my mother is doing now! It’s like she didn’t learn a dog on thing from them dieing!

Maybe I’m just stressing because she’s my mother and I want her here till she’s 100 years old.Or maybe  I’m being selfish and rude….ugggh. I hate this….

Know that I think about it I think I should get an award for getting in my first lesbian drama, it’ll make me an official lesbian of sorts….Anyhow before I start with this torrid tale I must explain myself for a bit so you can understand some things.

First of all, I have never really been out on a date or had a real relationship. So I always feel like I’m missing out on life because I haven’t really tested the waters so to speak. It could be because I’m pretty shy and awkward around people I like and freak out when people confront me about my crushes. I know I’m not the only one who has this problem and that as I get older I will have more opportunities and blah blah blah. But right now that isn’t really getting through to me, I thought college would help but…it’s not.

Anyway what I am trying to say is that when I get asked out by someone by the same gender and who is reasonably normal (which is never), I take the chance. Which is what I did in this case.

So ever since I came back home for summer break I’ve been  looking for a summer job so I can get money for a new wardrobe and save up for my semester trip to London. But as ya’ll all know the economy is harsh so I’ve been S.O.L so far. I decided to swing by the boardwalk hoping to get a temp job and my first stop was an small bookstore. Sadly they weren’t hiring  anyone and I decided to borrow a newspaper to scan for any job openings. A few minutes later I was interrupted by someone sitting at my table. I looked up to make sure it wasn’t some creepy stalker dude messing with me and instead I got the typical girly beach girl, cute but not my type.

I gave her a polite smile and hello and continued to pursue the newspaper.

She irrupted my reading by simply asking, “So you family?”

I raised an eyebrow at her and she pointed to my rainbow necklace.

“Oh umm maybe?”

And that’s basically how the rest of the conversation with went like. Her making subtle comments that I just didn’t comprehend.

Until she finally asked me out to a dinner and a movie in three days.

To tell you the truth I wasn’t really interested In her at all and plus she set off my spider senses but I never really went on a date and somebody was actually interested in me. So I agreed. Bad  choice.

After chatting up with her before the big date and having weird conversations about how the L word cast is hot(duh). The day finally arrived.

I told my parents that I was going to the movies with a friend (which is technically true)I went to meet her at a TGIF’s. At first everything seemed to be going well even though I felt a bit guilt because it seemed that I was using her just to prove that I was able to date, but I ignored that to continue my ego boost.

After dinner we went to the movie theater and waited patiently in line to get tickets to the karate kid, sadly I wouldn’t get to see this movie because guess who come strolling up in the line looking pissed off as hell?

Her girlfriend.

Yeah.

Come to find out lil Miss cail girl wanted to try out the poly lifestyle while her current girlfriend did not agree to this. The end result was me trying to defending my honor while cail girl was crying and her girlfriend switching between yelling at me and her soon to be ex-girlfriend.

I decided that I didn’t have to take any of their shit, told them just that and left the scene.

That didn’t deter her and she followed me I booked it to the nearest restaurant and hid out there. I called my parents to come pick me up and hope that crazy girl didn’t know where I lived.

So that was basically what went down. She started blasting my phone with angry calls until I finally snapped and told her I would beat the living crap out of her if she didn’t stop.

She stopped.

Which is great but the whole situation left me frazzled. I was wondering if this was punishment for not being upfront with her, but then I remembered that she did the same freaking thing to me. And I like to think that her crimes are bit worse than mine.

So that’s my tale of stupidity…I need to get out more or turn into a lesbian nun…

Any way I shall post a nice long post later on what has happened but first…enjoy the dancing baby.