Normal Undefined

Normal. We have all heard and used that word before, haven’t we? But what, exactly, is normal? It is a term defined by what is common in society. In the rawest form, it means conforming to the usual. In case, you are missing the point, normal has no definition outside of conforming to the wishes of society. Technically, normal is undefined.

If normal is undefined, how then do we measure what is abnormal? Given the dictionary definition of normal, it’s safe to say that abnormality stems from the non conformation to the common beliefs and actions of a society. Huh, guess that means that technically, abnormal is also undefined.

Based on the definitions - or lack thereof - how can someone deem themselves capable of deciding who and what is normal? People oftentimes take what they deem as abnormal and claim that it is wrong. They fear that which is not common and chastise it, bullying people into the ground because of it. Whether it is religious beliefs, political standpoints, gender, race, ethnicity, or sexuality (to name only a few), everyone feels that their belief is “normal” and true. Here’s the reality: your belief is your belief and congratulations for having it, but it’s not the only truth out there. Your belief stems from your moral code, which is actually affected by the society and environment surrounding you. From a psychological standpoint, morals change through personal development. If they change and do not remain stagnant, then it’s pretty tough to say that your way is the best and only way, isn’t it?

I’m rambling, I get that, but I get so frustrated when I’m told that I or something I’m doing is considered abnormal. Whether it comes down to the woman I love, our future marriage (yup, I said the M word), my chosen career goals, or the fact that I don’t fit into any typical stereotype, people always judge. I can’t stop the judgment, but I am tired of a society that feels it is okay to berate people because they don’t fit into a neat little box. I think outside the box. In fact, I think so outside the box that the box actually ceases to exist.

We grow up in a world where “normal” is deemed right, when in actuality it just means that you are giving into the whim of a society. Break that down and you get something that is common...the usual...lacking originality. I’m proud to be original. I’m proud to walk my own path. Who I am, what I believe in, and what I stand for is my truth. My truth is mine, your truth is yours. Harmony comes when we all live our own truths and quit shoving them into the mouths of others.

Just my thoughts.

I'm a butthole yet people love me anyways

I am capable of being a total and complete butthole at times. That’s putting it nicely, for the sake of you readers out there, but I can assure you that I can be the epitome of every a**hole definition you can come up with. It’s both a gift and a curse. There have been times it has served me well, but mostly not so much.

I am also a professional instigator...to myself. Seriously. I can totally egg myself on. It’s like my conscience, or superego, steps outside of my body to watch my id and ego battle it out.

Superego: “I wouldn’t say that if I were you.”
Id: “Say it. You feel it so say it.”
Superego: “If you say it, it will piss her off and the argument will get heated.”
Id: “Do it. Do it. Do it. I dare you.”

Then there’s my ego who is trying to weigh out the pros and cons before opening my mouth. Sounds rational, right? Here’s the thing - when I’m tired, my id wins...always. My Id sets the dare into motion and if I don’t comply right away, a double dog dare is sure to follow at which point my mouth opens and out spews whatever idiotic thing it may be. That’s when my superego just shakes her head and smacks her forehead while muttering “I told you so.” You would almost think, I’d pay my superego a bit more heed since more often than not, she’s right, but no. Sometimes, I prefer the more challenging road filled with chaos, idiocy, and facepalms. What can I say, I’m an adventurer. Ha, yeah...let’s go with that.

Trying to Impress?

I was talking to my mom awhile back and she said something that marinated in my head until it finally had to be written. She said she doesn't understand why we (my bro and I) feel we have to try and impress my father. I was taken aback and replied that I don't ever think about impressing him, which is true. However, it did set in motion a thought process I can't seem to let go of.

On some low level of my subconscious, do I do that? I bust my ass to do all I can to improve myself on many levels...aside from normal internal motivation, is there something else? Do I somehow strive to prove that I can be something more to a man who can't even remember what I'm going to grad school for? This made me think and really analyze myself in the sub-silence of my brain.

Sure, we all have external motivations that feed our need to do better and I can acknowledge mine on only a few fingers. As a kid, I used to definitely go for his praise and I did all I could think of to try to impress the man who was my hero. During softball games, I’d make sure no ball got past me. When hunting or fishing, I made sure my knowledge and skill was better than any of my male relatives. I sought out the proud smile that made me feel so good about myself. Then I grew up.

We had our share of issues, some of which we can’t seem to get passed - many of which long ago knocked him off the “hero” pedestal he owned when I was a kid. YET...reflecting back on the times when I played softball as an adult just a few short years ago before I injured my knee...I recall still holding onto the hope that he would make an appearance at my games and would play just a tad harder. Same is true the one time he took me on a deep sea fishing trip - I would fight those fish with rubber arms just to hear him tell the deck hands that his daughter didn’t need help. Maybe I must admit that in certain elements with hobbies specific to those we shared, he does provide a motivational force. Now I must also admit that I hate it. I hate the idea that parts of my adult life have been spent unconsciously attempting to impress a man who cannot accept my lifestyle, my choices, or anything thing else that makes me who I am today. I absolutely completely despise the idea.

It sounds as if he’s a bad man...he’s not. He has just spent too many years as a toxic seat at my table. There are things I fear I have in common with him - not good things - and I vowed as a teenager to never let those things fester and show. Today, he is a man who stands on the outskirts of my life...never really an active member.

Do I ever feel that I can be good enough for him? No. No I guess I don't. I don't ever foresee pride shining from his eyes again. I don't ever believe I'll hear encouragement from his lips. I don’t kid myself into believing those are even remote possibilities and I sure as hell don’t strive forward in an attempt to make it happen.

As I reflect over these last few years, I can say that I never consciously strive for his approval nor do I ever set out to impress him. Do I secretly hold a tiny little whisper of hope that my achievements will be recognized by him? Even though I hate to admit it, I do. Will my world be torn if it doesn’t happen? No. Do I honestly care enough about it to change it? Nope...I don’t.

Barnes & Noble: Another case of corporate homophobia?

I am seriously furious right now and you, my lucky readers, get to hear all about it, so to speak.

It seems Barnes & Noble is giving into the societal demands of discrimination these days. Not too long ago, they used to have a fairly decent Gay & Lesbian section. It wasn’t enormous, but it was dedicated section that was marked with with their nice green signs with white writing on it. In the section, they had works of fiction as well as nonfiction - everything from advice to stories. Apparently, corporate homophobia has taken over yet another chain.

Last night, my fiance and I went to our local B&N to look for a few books and walked throughout the entire store several times in an attempt to find the “Gay & Lesbian” section that used to be so clearly marked. We passed green sign after green sign. After 30 minutes of walking in circles, I was getting increasingly irritated so we decided to to track down a worker and ask. Make note that I NEVER ask for direction from floor staff so for me to do so meant that a LOT of frustration was coursing through my veins. After another two trips around the store to find a member of the staff, my knuckles were white and my jaw was clenched. My fiance touched my shoulder and said we should just forget it but now it’s all about the principle. Just when I was about to climb the shelves to get someone’s attention, we found a staff member and I somehow bit back my frustration and asked politely where the much sought after section was. Her reply was “Oh, um, I’ll have to show you because um...” which ended in an incomprehensible mumble. That response made me positive it wasn’t going to end well. We walked through the maze of aisles to keep up with her alarmingly quick rate of speed and when she stopped we looked at her with confused yet cynical eyes. She exhaled deeply and crouched down to point out a tiny white label with black writing on the very bottom shelf that meekly announced we had arrived. Before my fiance could calm me, I blatantly blurted out “You have got to be f***ing kidding me!” Are you ready for this folks?

The “Gay & Lesbian” section was reduced to a single shelf under a big green sign that said "Women's Interests." Yup, apparently the entire LGBT category of books can be classified as “Women’s Interests.” One single damn shelf on the very bottom that was labeled by a tiny white label 2 inches above the floor. A label that cannot even be seen unless you have taken to searching for book categories on your knees. This single tiny bottom shelf was not filled with novels or advice-riddled books by authors who have made sales through B&N in days past. No, no, no, my friends. Instead it was filled only with gay and lesbian erotica. As if the only reason we would ever pick up a book is to satisfy a thirst for lust. Talk about playing into a stereotype!! My first thought was how joyous it must be if a gay male was looking for a work of fiction or gay studies and was lead to the "Women's Interest" section. I can tell you right now that if that lady had pointed out this section under the heading “Men’s Interests” the entire store would have heard my fit of outrage. How in the HELL do stories about gay men fall under “Women’s Interests?” My second thought was how sad it was that we were reduced to a single shelf under an inappropriate heading. B&N was always one of my favorite places, now it appears they have given into the societal demands of bias and discrimination, feeding into the stereotypical folds that we have to fight every day.

In a last ditch effort, we searched for two common LGBT magazines. Sadly, they no longer carry the Advocate and Curve magazine wasn't found despite their claims of it being housed in the women's interest section of the magazine rack. We were able to find magazines about drugs, model trains, bloodletting, and just about every other hobby but no LGBT mags in sight. It’s a sad world when a magazine called “High Times” displaying a cover photo of marijuana and drug paraphernalia is more accepted than the news-filled Advocate.

Now this particular experience occurred in the Oceanside B&N store and in an effort to not falsely rage about B&N, I visited a couple other stores in other cities and contacted some friends in other areas. Apparently, this is happening in many cities and states so it’s obviously a corporate issue and not a single incident.

Barnes & Noble used to be my favorite place to spend time. Due to their now discriminatory practices, they have lost several customers and will lose more over time. Hatred and bias will not win and you can bet that the next letter I’m writing is to the B&N Corporate office.

Dreamin' while awake

To say I’m tired these days is an understatement. I think I average about 4 hours of sleep a night, if I’m lucky. There are days I drive to the office in a daze...literally not remembering how I even got there once I find I’ve arrived. It’s not really the safest way to make a 2-hour commute, but apparently I’m pretty damn good at it. My creativity is lost when I’m suffering from exhaustion. I find motivation to be just out of reach, at best. This frustrates me because I’m a very creative person as many people can attest to, so when I lack that I get irritable and a bit down. Gone are the hours I usually spend writing poetry, doing projects, or working on my book. The thoughts and ideas are there, they just don’t blossom into coherence.

With that in mind, let me reflect on how my mind does work while battling exhaustion. It happens at the most inopportune time - while I’m lying in bed waiting for the sleep fairy to take me to dream land. Now remember that my imagination runs wild as past posts have relayed. While I’m lying there, my mind will begin to race. Now I’m not talking like a foot race...no no...I’m talking like a 250-mph speed boat race. On an average night, my fiance constantly jokes that I dream while I’m awake in bed. I will be fully awake - can talk, hear, feel - yet my mind will be in another very vivid world. Similar to daydreaming yet more so. She often laughs at me because I will be so caught up in my mind that I’ll start telling her about what I’m seeing or experiencing. It really is like dreaming while wide awake. I’ve no idea how this happens. I know I’m lying there with my eyes closed, praying that the sleep fairy will visit and I will feel my body relax then there goes my mind - busting out of the gates as if a pistol went off. Okay, so check this: the other night I “dreamt” that we were driving down the road when a blue car passed by me. When I glanced at the car I saw it had a blue Ford Mustang body but instead of wheels, it had 4 long legs that were galloping at a high rate of speed. I laughed out loud and when my fiance asked me what was so funny I shared the info and told her that it must be the new 2016 Mustang model. She patted my head and said my brain needs studied when I die. I don’t necessarily disagree. I digress. My point was simply that all the creativity I have no motivation to follow through with due to exhaustion somehow invades my mind when I’m trying so hard to sleep. It’s quite counterproductive, I must say. 

Let it be noted that my imagination has cooked up some pretty wild inventions. If I was actually inventive enough to invent my imagined inventions, I’d be a fairly successful member of society.

It’s about time to make another 2-hour commute so until next time, my friends. Ciao.

Things that make ya go hmmm...

Today, rather than a rant, I'm going to talk about some interesting things that are going on in my life. Interesting as in things that make me go 'hmmm' as opposed to those that make me run screaming into the night (we all know I have those moments).

My brain got activated due to lack of sleep (and not for a good reason). I know this isn’t a new thing for me, but today I felt like chatting about it. For some reason or other, my brain has centered on my partner’s “duh” moments, although in person I really call them her “adorable” moments. Mind you, I love her to pieces and it is those same "adorable" moments that make me love her even more, even when I am shaking my head in silent laughter - okay, sometimes not so silent laughter. For example, the other morning, she took the dogs to her place in her car while I headed to work. She sent me a text very proud that she gave them food but despite looking everywhere, she could only find one dog bowl. I informed her that the bowls were stacked together and a moment later I got a reply that could have been interpreted as a forehead smack and an “oh, duh.” That is a very minor example of the moments I get blessed with witnessing on a fairly regular basis. Sometimes it happens while texting and sometimes during a video chat, but the best ones are those that happen in person. I cannot count the times I’ve stood there patiently just looking at her and doing a mental countdown from 5 as I wait for something to register in that racing mind of hers. I then get the reward of seeing her confused look transform into recognition then laughter as she exclaims proudly, “ohhhh, I get it now.”

Nowadays, I am privy to many of these moments, all of which make my day brighter. Let’s be honest and admit we all have those moments that leave us scratching our head in amazement at ourselves. I know I do. One of the recent happenings that she loves to relive is when we were at a local home improvement store buying new doorknob lock sets for her house. She had the worker open the package to get more keys made and that was when I had my moment of brilliance. She really does love to recant this. I had this brilliant declaration of “how do we know the key will work?” At that moment, both my love and the worker looked at me and she exclaimed “we’ll try them out before we take them home.” I stared blankly and she pointed out the fact that the locks were right there on the counter so we could, indeed, try them out before going home. Yup, forehead smack. Fortunately, most of mine are done in a more private setting.

Happy Friday

Happy Friday, my lovely Scribelets. I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA as of late. I have had, and continue to have, tons of things resting on my shoulders and kicking at my shins to get done. Between work, school, homework, practicum, dissertation, and moving to another city - well, I just don’t have much free time anymore. The good news is that my body and brain has learned to operate on only a few hours of sleep each night. Well, mostly anyways. The bad news is that when I finally have the time to settle down say...around 11pm...my brain is still active and giving out commands. Rudeness. Needless to say, my dreams are quite active. None of this is the recipe for a rejuvenating night. It is however, an interesting recipe for some very vivid dreams and and an influx in creativity.

So I am leaving the serene and quiet lifestyle of the mountains for the ridiculously fast-paced and crowded lifestyle of a beach city. The con is that I am not the biggest fan of the beach, nor do I really enjoy big cities. The pro is that I will be living with my beautiful fiance and that, quite frankly, trumps all. Love...amazing what it does for us.

Acceptance should be a family value

I'm always amazed at how easy it is to be judged as well as how easy it is to judge. It's done all the time, oftentimes without a realization. We discover that someone is passing judgement on us, and in return we begin doing the same to that individual.

This realization occurred to me two weeks ago when my fiancé and I were on the receiving end of such judgment. The man with the bias is a family member and it seems as if we have officially come full circle. 15ish years ago, I was cast out of half my family as a result of coming out. Since then, a relationship has again been established with them and we were all at a semi-comfortable peace. You can imagine my surprise when the day after Christmas I received a very unpleasant string of messages telling me of my immoral and wrong ways....again. This man felt that after 15 years, it was time to revisit the bias and repreach the hate. What amuses me most is that his main argument was that he needed to "protect the children" from me. Protect the children? From what? Lesbian contamination? Homosexual toxicity? The thing is this: isn't it more important to "protect the children" from hate, bias, and prejudice? And if so, is that not the exact values that *he* is teaching them? Quite the conundrum, isn't it?

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly acceptance gets reversed the moment someone's knowledge and pride gets threatened. How do we teach acceptance and forgiveness if it does not get put into practice? It seems that it should be a family value. I ask not for approval. Hell, I don't care if people approve or not...that's their problem, not mine. But I do ask for acceptance...because this is who I am and this is all I will ever be.