queer mom

I hate writing, especially papers.  In fact, starting this blog was an attempt to procrastinate.  You see, I had this 10 page paper that was really, really overdue—like 4 weeks.  I worked it up to such a big deal, that I was paralyzed to the point that I couldn’t work on it.  At one point I decided it would be better to drop out of grad school and work in retail, rather than write one 10 page paper.  I also wasted a lot of time playing minesweeper and free cell.  However, eventually I was able to get the paper done, and I turned it in on the very last day of class.

There is a local coffee shop I frequented as a young adult.  I don’t go there very often now, but each time I do, I always run into at least one person I know.

This morning I rode my motorcycle up 800 South, and I went as fast as I could up the hill.  I was wearing a helmet, and I slowed briefly to make sure an intersection was clear, but it was just as much fun today as it was when I was 18.

As a teenager I was WILD.  I liked to go out drinking with a fake ID.  I lied to older women about my age in order to get them into bed with me.  However, I always had to go to their place, since I lived with my sister.

Once I did bring someone home with me, and my sister walked in on me in a very compromising position.  After that experience, my sister finally stopped denying my queerness.

 I hate peeps, but I love smashing them.  They look all cute and sugary, and it makes you think they will taste good.  But, when you put them in your mouth, they have a horrible chewy texture and taste nothing like the marshmallowy goodness you were expecting.

I was in a workshop today to learn how to do play therapy.  I had to give my rabbit puppet a voice in front of 30 strangers, and again I thought I should just drop out and work at Starbucks.