What Do You Do?

Do you ever find yourself at an event where you meet new people and invariably one of the first questions people ask is, “What do you do?” I always respond, “You mean for fun, or for pay?” This response is often met with surprise and then clarification that the person asking wants to know what I do for work. I agree it is sometimes interesting to me what folks do for work, but I usually wait to ask that until I know them better or I ask if it is germane to the conversation.

What I prefer to ask are these questions: What do you like to do for fun? Of the places you’ve traveled, which is your favorite? What are you passionate about?

I find people’s response to these questions to usually be much more interesting than what people do for work. Some folks are lucky enough to do work that is also their passion, but let’s be real, that is maybe 5% of us. I find some meaning in my work. I find it interesting most of the time. But my job is one of the least interesting things about me. This is …


It began with a hike.  Each time I would lose my footing she instinctivley reached out to steady me.   As we hiked I thought back to our time together the week prior when I had visited her in Massachusetts. I am a person who cuddles with many of my friends and our last night there at the B&B on Walden Pond it felt a little different as she spooned me. I convinced myself that I had been imagining things. We'd been friends forever after all.  Still the question popped back into my mind as we hiked the gorgeous trail on the Oregon Coast. We reached a plateau after a steep climb that provided a gorgeous view of the ocean. I stopped  to catch my breath and exclaimed at the beauty. She stopped behind me and rested her hands on my shoulders. As soon as I felt both of her hands on my shoulders I knew in my heart that she had feelings for me that went beyond “just friends.”

Later that day I  was surprised when she joined me, with little coaxing,  in the freezing cold ocean to laugh and…

Birds Do Not Belong in Cages

I’ve been thinking lately about labels, boxes, and expectations. These all are counter to my basic nature. One of the privileges of growing older has been the ability to eschew expectations and to just march to the beat of my own drum. I recently had a conversation with a friend about how sad it is that society places greater significance on romantic relationships than platonic. I don’t like wasting my time hanging out on the surface. If you are more than an acquaintance, I want to go to the deep end with you. I want to peel back your layers and find the meat of you. This is the thrill of human connection, being truly seen and seeing others. Why should we only do this with someone we are making it with? And why are people so concerned about who we are or are not making it with? I tell you I am thrilled beyond measure to have moved into my own new space, a space where I live alone.Physically moving to a new space was an important step for me in moving on from my marriage which in the e…

Monday Afternoon Temptation

The temptation to run away to the other side of the country is great today.

I have friends who are moving to upstate New York, to a town that is allegedly queer friendly, a town that is exceedingly affordable, to a town where I have no history, no memories, no baggage. These friends I have only hung out with during one trip for a few days, but they are people I immediately liked on a level that if we lived in the same town I would make an effort to see them regularly. They are people who know about things I do not, and who know about things that I do, so there are things to learn and things to share. They are smart and kind.

When I heard they were moving to this small town, I joked that I should just pick up and move there so we could be neighbors (ish). Then for the hell of it I looked on Craigslist to see how much it costs to rent an apartment or home there and was shocked how much cheaper it is.  I had daydreams about hiking in the Adirondacks, kayaking in the Finger Lakes, build…

Rainbow Star

The other day,  I read this brilliant essay with tears streaming down my face.Please read it. This Is Not For You

Pretty much every single word she wrote resonated with me.

I have struggled feeling like I fit anywhere all of my life, but I'm always extra sad when I feel like a misfit in my own community. 
I’ve been called bisexual like it’s a dirty word. I recall the times when women have bragged about being gold stars* with an air of superiority.  I cannot tell you how many time people have treated me like property of my butch partners because I am wearing a skirt and heels and expertly applied eyeliner.  I remember that one time a “well meaning” gay guy asked meif I was gay because I thought I couldn’t get a guy because I’m not skinny, and tried to reassure me that I’m still pretty even if I’m not thin. (Maybe because I’m girly he thought I wasn’t genuinely queer.)

I have loved men, both cis and trans. I have loved them for their maleness (among other things), not in spite of it. I …

Verb: A verb is the part of speech (or word class) that describes an action or occurrence or indicates a state of being.

Having spent 44 years on this planet, I have learned a thing or two about love. I have learned that words are fantastic and all but in the end fairly meaningless. I have been seduced by pretty words more often than I care to admit, excusing actions that belie the most exquisite professions of love.

One of my favorite songs, Teardrop by Massive Attack, begins with the following lyric "Love, love is a verb, love is a doing word."

If you want to know how someone feels about you, just watch their actions...that is where you will find the truth.

It is true what they say, the truth really can set you free.

Thank You

Thank you for breaking my heart 
Thank you for tearing me apart 
Now I've a strong, strong heart 
Thank you for breaking my heart
                   - Sinead O'Connor 

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger right? I am going to be a veritable Hulk when this is all over because the alternative is to lie in a broken pile or be consumed by bitterness and anger, which I refuse to do. 

Watch me rise from the ashes stronger and more brilliant than I've ever been...shining like a fucking beacon of happiness because I will have my freedom. I will never walk on eggshells again. I will live and laugh and love the way I want. I will never again make myself small for another. I will celebrate my big generous heart instead of berate myself for being taken advantage of. I will come out of this wiser, oh so much wiser. I will rise with my integrity intact. The most important part of all of this is that I will rise.