8/18/09

Vacation


Please excuse my 'vacation.' We've barely begun and I have already taken off (for those that know me, I'm sure you are thinking, 'typical.') I assure you, my week off has not been entirely pleasant. In fact, I would say it was a melancholy week, marked by spectacular events. Go figure.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...Here's the week's recap, with a different number to represent each day I've been MIA:

10: Although the week ahead would be difficult to say the least, my first night in town couldn't have been more magical. As noted the last time I wrote, Cate and Abe were high school school sweethearts who married after ten years together. The genuine love they have for each other is evident. The two embody the expression "I'm in in love with my best friend" and for their first dance they did a choreographed number to prove it.

I did in fact refer to Jo as my partner (despite my hesitation); however, seeing my two old friends celebrate their future together only enhanced my own desire to move forward with my other half. It was the kind of night which reminds you that you are Lucky to be in love.

67:
I spent day two of my trip making the rounds you must when most of your family lives within a three block radius. It was that evening that kept me going. I had plans to meet up with some of my favorite college friends: Lillian, Six (yes, like in Blossom), and Bean (every good lesbian has a nickname.) Bean was even bringing her new girl and we were all pumped to meet her. (Before I get too serious, she really was fabulous...yay, Bean!)

I could not wait to see the girls but knew there would be a cloud hanging over us.
Six had spent the day prior laying her Nan to rest. Nan was 67 years old. It struck me as so young. My own grandmother was 80; grandpa even older. That night I saw the pain in Six' eyes and listened intensely as Lil has the epiphany that life really must go on. We laughed harder that night than I had in a long time. And we cried.

It was a hard evening but probably one of the most real I've had in a long time. I suppose it's the hard times that make you realize who means the most.


80:
I was just about to recap the time I spent with my grandmother during my vacation week. My laptop was open and my fingers were on the keyboard when the phone rang. Grandpa was on the other end, sobbing. It was not an unexpected phone call; however, the pit in my stomach was deeper than I could have imagined. My blog would have to wait; I had to fly home and say goodbye to my Grandma.

8/7/09

What should I call her?

I'm in the airport waiting for my flight to board. First off, please ignore any typos as this is my first official post from my new blogger app and I'm still adjusting to the new technology. Second of all,
I'm so glad you guys are enjoying my rants and raves... Keep the comments coming- very encouraging!

Anyway, I'm headed back home for an old friend's wedding. I've known Cate since the fifth grade when we both wore Catholic school girl uniforms. We originally got acquainted because I told on her for talking in the bathroom.... I must have been intimated by the curly haired blond girl or I was just a bitch; regardless, we are close after all the years and tonight I will see her marry her high school sweetheart.... So exciting!

Drinking my required pre-flight screwdriver, I got to thinking about my own sweetheart. Jo won't be able to make it to this evening's nuptials (thanks to my little sis for playing wingman.) We are at that age though where she will undoubtedly come up.

I hear it now, "So Iz, what are you doing now?"

It should be noted that not everyone at this event will know that I'm gay. Most have not met Jo. Answering this question becomes a bit of a balancing act. It all comes down to who I'm speaking with.

My Partner: I almost feel uncomfortable using this expression. She is completly my partner in every sense of the word but we have yet to "make it official." Although I feel that calling her my partner might give the impression that we are "married," there are times when I will use it anyway. A certain generation will just not understand my lifestyle if I use the term "girlfriend."

As Cate and her Cuban love become man and wife, I will continue to call Jo my gf/partner until I too can call my love my wife... Or at least until I can upgrade to fiancé.

Planes about to take off... Until tomorrow....

8/4/09

Lesbian Without Lunch


In this daily closeted journey, there are good and bad days. Sometimes Jo is home for a long weekend, other nights I'm all alone. That is the life of the military and I'm slowly getting comfortable with the role of Navy 'wife' (not that anything is official.) Today is a bad, well more disappointing. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it, but here goes.

I've taken on the role of housewife and my afternoons in the kitchen have come to feel therapeutic. Picking up Gourmet magazine and watching Giada at Home, I've learned the basics and stolen some great recipes. If I do say so myself, I'm getting pretty good. Yesterday, I even baked muffins.

I love this new role and take pride in my daily creations (both on the page and in our bellies.) Each evening after the kitchen is cleaned and dishwasher started, I prepare Jo's lunch for the next day. Call me old-fashioned but I enjoy caring for her after a long day. She spent the day working hard in uniform, the least I can do is prepare a nutritious, delicious mid-day meal. I alternate between packing her blue lunchbox and my black and white plaid lunchbag.

I digress. Back to bad days....

This morning I opened the refrigerator to see this afternoon's lunch sitting where I had placed it last night. I immediately got excited; I can bring it to her at lunchtime and we can spend the extra thirty minutes together. That feeling sunk; we are in the Navy. I do not exist and even acting as a roommate, I could never get on base.

It seems insignificant to most of you, I'm sure. Particularly, if you are straight. The thing is it's another one those moments when I am forced to remember that we're not like everybody else. According to the military of this country, the healthy, happy relationship that Jo and I have only exists behind the gates of our apartment community.

Jo will just have to get something from the cafeteria. And I will go back into therapy, perhaps today with Paula Deen.