So, I have been cast in a new play.
I have also been recognized for being a lesbian for the last year.
Tell me if you see this as a coincidence? I am often seen as manly. I get hit on by girls a lot. This year I hit on a girl (that part is new to me).
BUT, I was cast as three boys. Three boy gods, just saying. I am Zues, Hades and Hercules.
Should I worry?
Here is what I know.
The images I see from Boston are meant to terrorize me. That is not to say some terrorist group planned or carried out these attacks.
I have a really vivid imagination. I have a 9 year old child.
I don’t want visions in my head of the 8 year old that tragically lost his life.
I want the world to be a decent place. I want to see change.
I do not want to *think* that people * believe* they are accepting EQUAL rights. I want to *know* they are accepting of rights for all people.
I know that I am a dreamer. I’m not the only one. (To quote John Lennon)
So, because the images of Boston terrorize me, I will not watch. Not because there is no message. I cannot contribute to the power of terrorists. I cannot make this attack more powerful than Pearl Harbor, 9/11, the Atlanta Bombings, OK City, Columbine, Newtown, or the next thing terrorists plan to haunt me.
I cannot stop believing in people because of what plays on the news.
I will pray for families.
I will remember.
That is all I can promise.
I always try to post a photo (since it is worth a thousand words) but I won’t. I watched GMA this morning and I wanted to go back to bed. The images terrorized me, just like they wanted. Guess what? No matter who did this, be it a lone sociopath, or a group, they meant to terrorize us. They meant to have us look at photos, over and over and over. I refuse to give them that power.
Please, don’t give the terrorist that power.
Please don’t watch. Please give these families the time they need to grieve. I guarantee, your children don’t need to see it, any more than you do.
RAY-NARD RAY-NARD my boyfriend’s back!
He’s gonna ruin my reputation.
And really, at this point I don’t have much of a reputation to salvage. Ruin away!
My Surrogate Gay Husband (SGH) is back in town, just for the moment. He won’t be staying. So, while I have him, I must make my memories now.
My SGH is bad for me. He makes me get out of my Raynard’s comfort zone. I do things I normally would judge other people for doing.
Oh, silly old woman, what are you thinking? Someone could be posting this to ‘the YouTube’ right now. Your next parent teacher conference, you might be #trending, right as you walk up to the table, Stinky Pete’s younger, hipper teachers could be passing around a filmography of your latest outing.
I can see it in my head.
My SGH is good for me. He makes me get into my Sadie zone. I do things I normally wouldn’t do. I leave the house. I sing in public. I DO STUFF, is the real point. SGH is so hard to resist, being out in public with a man this beautiful can be overwhelming. There is power in it. I swear… unicorns follow us down the street when we walk together; you can always tell if you are walking into a party after us… there is a trail of glitter. Just saying.
I received an ominous text from the SGH saying, “Dibs! Saturday night you’re mine. Tell your real husband to suck it up.” Just those words should have been foreboding enough, I should have known. I should have gotten a fake ID… and I am 40+. I should have put my attorney on retainer.
SGH and I *LOVE* to karaoke. He is great at karaoke, and beautiful. I provide the much needed social commentary on why we institutionalize the elderly in America. Inevitably, when we are out in public together, someone will come to me, and try to excuse THEIR behavior to ME; give me quick reassurance that they are not trying to steal my man.
As many times as I have been through this, I never know how to react.
SGH and I have been assumed to be:
People usually know we aren’t two dudes, because he is so pretty.
Just saying.
So when the very inebriated woman came to me to say, “I swear, I am not trying to pick up your boyfriend” I laughed. And she said, “No really.” Wanting to reassure me, her intentions were pure.
I just looked at her and said, “Good luck, he is gay.”
“No he is not.”
I find it both amusing and offensive that everyone comes at me from the politically correct perspective that assumes he is straight… until he proves otherwise. “Why do you assume he is straight?”
“He is not gay! You are together!”
SGH: “Nope, big ole gay. Right here.” He said, pointing to himself.
And then she sat down and had a conversation with my SGH, I went to pee. The details matter very little. We have this conversation a lot, where people act surprised, that my very beautiful friend is gay. Frankly, it bores me. What happened next, well, that is a new story for me.
I came back from the ladies room, may or may not have danced by myself, but sat back down and our new friend sat square in my lap and stated, “I want you to make me a lesbian tonight.”
OK, I am gay friendly. I fly the rainbow flag. I am okay with your orientation.
I have told you, I get recognized for being a lesbian, a lot. I have even signed autographs as Rachel Maddow. I wear comfortable shoes. Guess what? The underwear matches the shoes. It is always comfortable.
But make you a lesbian? I honestly didn’t know I had that power. I perked up a bit. (with great power comes great responsibility –Uncle Ben).
“There is a form you need to fill out, so I can get a new toaster for the conversion. Plus, I didn’t bring my wand tonight.” I said, with a very straight face.
I am not sure where the conversation ended, I am sorry to say, I don’t know if you know this… but I had been drinking.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw our friend, Hannah almost in Montana in a very intense conversation with a man. I meant to help. So I crossed a room, and kissed her. It was my first girl on girl kiss, and may I say… *sigh* she had the sweetest, softest lips ever.
When we got back to the table she looked at me and said, “Why did you save me from the gay guy?”
“I didn’t know he was gay, but I was trying to help.”
That was about the time our new friend put her tongue down my throat and asked the room if they would like to see her shaved taco.
SGH took me home for Raynard to deal with. Life went on. We are still all of same orientation we left the house in that night. But know two things:
isn’t that what they all say?
It really was an honor to be nominated… and I am not just saying that, because I am an incredible actor. I mean it.
I was nominated for a Liebster Award. When I first learned of the nomination I was real skeered. My first award nomination ended badly, with Guru Annie and myself agreeing on the TIE for 6th funniest blogger on the planet. When I put on my big girl panties, to read what a Liebster was, I was less concerned. It is more like a chain letter from bloggers, keep in mind if YOU DON’T DO what I tell you, all hellfire and brimstone could come to your doorstep and ask you to adopt a cat. #justsaying
1. Each blogger should post 11 random facts about themselves.
2. Answer the questions the tagger has set for you, and then create 11 new questions for the bloggers you pass the award to.
3. Choose 11 new bloggers (with less than 200 followers) to pass the award to and link them in your post.
4. Go back to their page and tell them about the award.
5. No tag backs.
Random Facts about Sadie Wilson:
1. Where do you do your writing?
I love writing in my kitchen, but I took over a spare bedroom in my house to “write” in. It keeps the grown children from getting too comfortable in my home as they now have to share a bedroom. Two birds, one stone spare bedroom and all.
2. Do you have aspirations for a book, or just dicking around?
I used to have aspirations of a book, but turns out, I am just dicking around. I am pretty sure I have self-diagnosed ADHD, and books can be l-o-n-g man. I don’t know that I could hold my own interest that long. How could I expect someone else to read that drivel.
3. What do you think non-bloggers, family members and friends think about blogging?
My parents and siblings think I am crazy, and teetering on the verge on lesbianism. My mother also fears my emails/blog posts will be infiltrated by the Taliban and someone will kidnap me and take me away and hold me ransom.
My BFF used to think I was kinda cool, 6th funniest blogger on the planet and all. She mostly finds me lame now, since I haven’t written in so long.
4. Do you think Facebook can also hinder blogging, as well as help spread your name
around?
YES! When someone you “know” likes your blog, but then you realize they are super churchy, and you’re all “I went out with my surrogate gay husband, and we gave impromptu oral sex presentation to a hobbit at the local bar.” Well, you reconsider actually putting that information out into the WWW; because the churchy people and the Taliban are tracking that information, just like my mom.
5. Do you like sandwiches?
Actually, yes; I enjoy sandwiches very much. I cannot admit to that, because one night during family dinner my young children were telling me the origin of the name sandwich, and I thought it sounded too stupid to be true. So I chose not to believe, even when I was proven wrong by the internet, and children, and spouse with Master’s degree. But because I chose not to believe them every time we have soup and sandwich night, I make a calzone. A calzone is really is just a sandwich, without the ongoing family discussion where mom is always wrong.
6. How are you different from those in your peer group?
I don’t have peers, just the pressure. People want me to either: start smoking/or stop smoking, go drinking/stop drinking, join abstinence club/start my own brothel…. OY VEY!
You can stop at anytime Sadie.
The people I hang with for fun are wonderful spirits, arty, free thinkers (and way too young for me to be hanging out with). I am pretty well connected with weird thinkers now, people that make me stand on my desk and shout, “Oh Captain, My Captain” just like Dead Poets Society, constantly encouraging me to challenge my own thinking.
7. Are you on Twitter and actually using it?
Yes. No.
8. Do you read a lot of other blogs, or just use yours as a means for your own thoughts?
I try so very hard to read other blogs, but there are so many of them. Then I see the shiny objects in their writing and forget to write my own, or vice versa. When I write, I can’t concentrate on the others, so I don’t accidentally steal their ideas. I plagiarized Guru Annie my first year, and I totally thought it was my own original thought and LOL’d as I typed it. SHEER BRILLIANCE I thought. Totally stolen.
9. If you could be a fruit, which one would you choose and why?
Fruit Fly, because I do adore my surrogate gay husband.
10. Do you think these awards are sometimes too long and time-consuming?
Yes, and they make me feel too much pressure. My first year I was nominated in a real contest where people had to go vote for you and such, it crippled me I couldn’t write, I didn’t win, and it totally undermined my confidence. I have never paid attention again.
11. How do you think these arbitrary numbers, like 11 are chosen?
I think someone had too much time, and not enough wine.
12. Did you know I was a rebel?
Onion Girl, everyone knows you are a rebel.
11 random questions for you, my fellow bloggers:
My picks for the award
1. Anyone with less than 200 followes who is ACTUALLY READING THIS. (YES!! That means you, you just won!! HUZAH, sit down and write something will ya?)
2. The Real Yetisaurus, my first true semi-lesbian entcounter, #fail.
3. Brigitte’s Banter, she talks to me, and she is truly paid to write.
3. The Musings of Munch, he posts pics of shoes and real pretty boys. #justsaying.
4. Audra at Unfettered, not only because she loves me, encourages me, and talks to me, but she writes haiku, almost everyday.
5. Annieology, the girl that got me started towards this new me.
6. The Cubicle Views, because he cracks me up.
7. Confessions of a Tumbleweed, she is from WYOMING you know.
8. My Cyber House Rules, is the bravest woman I never met.
9. Eldon Sarte, Braintropolis… he liked me write away (see what I did there?)
10. Eric at Sinistral Scribblings, ’cause he used to be part of my group and needs our encouragement man.
11. Kelly @ Naked Girl in a Dress… mostly, she is dressed. But works real hard to get writers out there.
12. Kimberly, @ Rubber Chicken Madness, because she is always real… and was the first person to accept me on Studio 30
13. Jester Queen, who still talks to me, and is wiling to collaborate.
…’cause really, it IS STILL all about me.
So, I missed an appointment with my fabulous gay hairdresser. I never do that, but in this instance it seemed more important to have life changing surgery for Stinky Pete, than for a touch up color and cut for me.
I know, it doesn’t look like a bit deal; but keep in mind, I have done the same surgery with Skudro Bodine 5 times.
Don’t let people ply you in with; “children, they’re a lot of work but they ARE worth it.” You give up a lot to be a parent, and I promise they will curse you for the sacrifice.
I have noticed more gray hair on my head in the last week than I have in the last decade. Is it because of one missed appointment? Or because I am truly getting old? I don’t know that we will ever have an answer to this question.
What I can officially share, I tore my rotator cuff. And, I got trapped in my own pajamas this week.
OH HOLY HANNA! The pain, the friggin’ pain.
I must really be getting old, because I hurt myself sleeping. Let me say that again just so I know you heard me correcty; I hurt myself… to the point I needed to seek medical attention, sleeping. I wasn’t gonna go to see anyone, I always tell people I am too mean to really get sick but… earlier this week, I got stuck in my pajamas. I couldn’t get out. I called to my Loving Husband Raynard, “Hey! Please? Could you come help me?”
He said, “Yeah, come out here, I am watching Amish Gold Miners tracking across America looking for Antiques.”
I yelled back, “I am stuck in my pajamas, and my boobs are hanging out! I can’t go into the living room, in front of the full length windows.” That statement neither encouraged him to run to me for a little action, or push pause on the TV to help. I went to bed. At least the tangle in my PJ’s will keep my arm in one place all night.
I haven’t written in 3 months.
Not anything mind blowing. I don’t have an excuse, other than, I just didn’t feel it.
People have theories.
To quote Billy Joel, *sigh* “they may be wrong, but they may be right….”
Here is the truth, as I see it:
Raynard was gonna write a story…
We are ALL still waiting.
And I still don’t know any more than you. I know a crazy person walked into a school, and killed innocent children/people, in each instance. I know “it” the way only a parent would know it. Except, I am not anyone of those parents. But I did know, I couldn’t say anything that would heal a heart that has lost a child.
Plus, there is the side of me that is non-Sadie. Guess what? She can be a bit of a pill. She is:
She said “no, I don’t wanna…” like a two-year old. And I had to sit and wait for her to grow up and deal with her fears.
I think She (hard to work with insulent child) is ready to re-unite…. which is different from ReUnite on ice. (wine reference) with Sadie and start writing again. I want you to realize, this is right before Chuckles for Chaity… which if anything can knock me off my game it is this event.
Guru Annie without her and my Magic 8 Ball, I would be lost.
I have this friend, Guru Annie, (say this next part in a Jewish Mother whisper) she is real big on “the twitter”. She did a whole Continental US tour and slept on sofas of her followers.
Can’t you see me napping here, for no reason, ‘cept you think I might be cheap entertainment.
So I ask you, who has a sofa? Who has an afternoon? An extra wine glass? Something…. anything.
I need a reason to leave the house.
Jeez, who has IM? I don’t have to leave the house. I am crazy, leaving the house kinda scares me.
I need a story. Keep in mind:
Brigitte
Audra
Munch
Onion Girl
Yetisaurus
–You would have to be willing to sit up late nights and talk to me. You would need to talk me out of doing something totally stupid.
Or INTO it.
Is it Tuesday already?
If you talk me into “IT”, you have just nominated yourself, official biographer/photographer of the event. If I die in said event, you have to ping back to the Reptiles. It’s only fair. Sam Champion from GMA might even interview you, if I die…
Come on Sam, you know ya wanna meet me…
and you contact him,
and you youTube it,
and it goes viral.
That is A LOT of if’s, #justsaying.
2012 was supposed to be a stellar year. I fell off the blogging wagon. I sucked. Internet peeps, band together. Let’s help each other go viral, not virus… my family is set for infections and surgery this year.
Come on guys, I
totally need a day out of this dull life.
And thanks for your support.
I couldn’t have done it without you. Well I could have; but it wouldn’t have been as much fun.
So, I had a totally dirty prompt, sent to me today from Casper, WY; regarding orgasms and glitter….
It had been so long since I had written, I wanted to write something with substance.
–Couldn’t be done.
#just saying
So I looked to the Magic 8 Ball, and asked, should I keep doing this?
Yes, I totally believe in the all seeing eye of the Magic 8 Ball.
MOST LIKELY, was my inspirational reply.
and my writing play list starting playing Elivs Costello. So, even if this does nothing more than introduce BFF Calico Shurtz to the song I always turn to, the song that gives me a smile and a reason to keep breathing for the next 5 minutes, here you are.
And that is a good thing for all of you.
Come on, S-T-R-E-T-CH!
Just a little farther.
I know you can do it.
My life has been crazy, I have been trying to make people happy and the world a better place. I really thought I was going to pull it off too. Turns out, can’t be done. Well, maybe it can be done, but we would have to pull together, as a community. We would have to organize and devote time to this important project. People aren’t going to do that.
I was talking to Crazy Grandma on the phone tonight and she said the weirdest things:
I miss you Sadie.
Come on! One hug?
I am totally harmless.
That is when I screamed, “Yeah, no shit. I am like that monkey in outbreak! I infected you with that belief the world can be a better place.”
Crazy Grandma said, “No one I work with now sees Unicorns. They don’t even believe in Munchkins.”
Antibodies CAN be evil.
“It’s not surprising. I may be as contagious as the monkey in outbreak, but I am only one person. You guys keep building up antibodies.”
But it IS nice to be known as the girl who helps people change how they think, be it a small change, it is STILL change.
For my first blog of the New Year, we discussed my crazy fears. I asked you, my adoring readers what I should write? I received 3 responses.
One of the responses was: write seriously. I did here.
One was to stop being nice and speak my mind. I do that anyway.
The last was to live in a cave and make cave paintings. So that was the challenge. I had a year to do it. We have discussed, I have all these weird phobias that keep me from doing what I truly want to do. In true Sadie style I accomplished it in 9 months.
The wilderness lay in wait… and scared the pee doodles outta me.
I am not a camper by nature. This idea presented many obstacles, not the least of which is I fall over peeing outside. Loving Husband Raynard grew up in the mountains, hunting, fishing and gathering. He knew what it would take to keep me alive for my camping weekend.
I thought I was going to get out of it. I had already dodged the bullet twice this summer, but the weather is starting to change in Wyoming. If I was going to do what I said, this was the weekend. Raynard promised to keep me safe, plus we needed to get over the mountain and see his family. Whenever life presents you a way to check two things off your list at the same time, the prudent thing to do is say yes.
Isn’t it amazing what we can build out of sticks?
Raynard packed the tent cave, it’s not cheating! (Anytime I am faced with a fallacy regarding the blog I think of the paraphrased words of Stephen King. Stephen said, “a writer never lies, intentionally. He thinks wouldn’t the story be better if this happened.”) We packed up Stinky Pete and took off for the great beyond our driveway.
‘Cause I’m a woman! W-O-M-A-N. (now you will be singing it all day, good luck with that.)
I will give Loving Husband Raynard full credit for picking out the perfect spot for camping. He had scouted the backlands most of the summer and would come home explaining how it would meet all my criteria for sleeping outside all night, with the wildlife– sans toilet, Wi-Fi and 911.
We set up camp. Loving Husband tracked down dinner, and we returned to our humble quarters and got ready to bed down for the evening—is how I will forever tell the story. As I drifted into my restless slumber you could hear the strange sounds of the wildlife and there was a definite smell of musk in the air. I slept, mostly uninterrupted surrounded by mountain lions, bears and sheep. That is a true story.
Here is the real story… but as Guru Annie says, it’s my blog –I can lie if I want to.
Half way over the mountain, we pulled over and made “cave drawings” we used water soluable sidewalk chalk that would not hurt the trees, rocks, or be true graffiti. Hoping to leave Wyoming’s beauty untouched.
It was supposed to be my logo.
It is a lot harder to draw on rocks than you would think.
Kudos cavemen!
At the bottom of the mountain I, Sadie made reservations at 4 star hotel. Room was equipped with separate sleeping quarters for Stinky Pete and had both a fireplace and jacuzzi tub in the corner of the room. Most importantly for Pete, it had an indoor swimming pool.
It was also 150 feet from a steakhouse, where Loving Husband Raynard defended his tribe and paid for brought us meat for dinner, coincidentally they served wine with their meat. (Like I said, he knew what it would take to get me through this weekend).
Happiest Grizzly I have ever seen.
I truly did sleep surrounded by wildlife, though it was all stuffed and hanging off the walls. The musky smell was Raynard.
I finally get it! Yay Camping!
Turns out, I just maybe a wilderness woman. Best. Camping. Trip. Ever.
