(It would take entirely too long to explain how this conversation got started.)
Ryan: Rambo III was the only movie I’ve ever seen, where I wanted my money back.
Me: For me that was Eyes Wide Shut. Never has a movie with so much sex, been so sexless.
Ryan: That’s because the only believable sexual tension that Tom Cruise has ever had, onscreen, was with Val Kilmer.
**And if you don’t think Top Gun was softcore gay porn, I’m begging you to rewatch the shower scenes. All of them.
My best friend, Matthew, has finally extricated himself from the world’s worst relationship. His former partner, Kenneth, said some truly terrible things to him, none of which are clever enough to post here. However, Matthew’s responses, in my opinion, were HILARIOUS. Two of my favorites:
1. “Kenneth, grow up, if I wanted to date a child, I’d register myself as a sex offender, and then hang myself from my tie rack.”
2. “Get, down off your cross, Kenneth, it doesn’t match the decor, and we need the wood.”
Soooo, the breakup comes as a surprise to no one, but in the wake of this event, Matthew has to change all of his legal paperwork, which led to this conversation:
Matthew: “I’m going to need your Social Security Number; I have to change my beneficiary information.”
Me: “Sure thing, and do you have medical directives, because you need to name someone to take care of you, in case, God forbid, something happens.”
Matthew: “Yeah, I’ll sign it over to you.”
Me: “Just so I know, in advance, if you’re in a coma, and paralyzed from the neck down…”
Matthew: “Pull the fucking plug.”
Me: “Okay. And if it’s just the waist down?”
Matthew: “Let me live, I’ll still be able to jack guys off.”
Me: “You’re going to be the most popular thing on four wheels.”
Matthew: “That’s right, betches…I deliver.”
A warning, if you came here for my usual nonsense, this isn’t the post for you, but please click here for a post about fucked up children’s literature, or this one about how I am incapable of returning gifts.
Anyhooo…
Three of my friends (also teachers), and I are sponsors in a community organization which supports LGBTQ youth and allies. Due to the tireless work of one of my fellow sponsors, we were lucky enough to take our kids to march, this weekend, in the Phoenix Pride Parade.
After several hours of staging, just as we were about to launch down the parade route, one of our girls turned to me, shoulders down, eyes huge, and said, “Ms. M, I’m scared,” and my heart stopped for a second. I knew why she was scared. She was scared because this meant thousands of people looking at her…because she was standing in front of them, declaring her true self at the ripe old age of fifteen…and because she knew, somewhere, we’d likely meet opposition that she wouldn’t know how to handle. I squeezed her shoulder and told her that it was going to be fun, and prayed like hell that I was right.
What happened, was that for the next thirty minutes, our kids met nothing but cheers, high-fives, and applause from thousands of strangers, who took a little time out of their Sunday to sit on a curb in downtown Phoenix, and send them the biggest overwhelming cloud of love and acceptance imaginable. A cloud which wrapped around all of them, stronger than any armor man has ever wrought. Long before our mile was up, our girl, once so scared, had her shoulders thrown back and her head held high, and she was the definition of Pride. My heart…it was, and still is, so terribly full.
And, yes, at the end of the route, there were protesters holding terrible signs and screaming hateful things. Wisely, the organizers placed the huge speaker system right next to them to drown them out with Lady Gaga, but by then, our kids were impervious, and the demonstration warranted nothing more than the roll of their keen adolescent eyes, and for that I am grateful.
Love will always be so much more powerful than hate, and self-acceptance is greater than fear. You did me proud today, Phoenix…thank you from the bottom of my heart.
(This is what I have to listen to, while I’m trying to cook dinner.”
Xavier: “The dog likes me better, because he’s MAN’S best friend, not woman’s best friend. What is woman’s best friend, anyway?”
Caolinn: “Tampons.”
Xavier: “What are tampons?”
Caolinn: “Mom!”
Me: “You got yourself into this one, get yourself out of it.”
Caolinn: (sigh) “You know how once a month, women bleed from their hoohah?”
Xavier: “Ugh, yeah.”
Caolinn: “Tampons help you, so you don’t leak.”
Xavier: “Ewwww.”
Caolinn: “Well, when you’re married, you’re going to need to deal with this. Well, if you’re married to a woman; if you’re married to a man, you won’t.”
Xavier: “God, I really hope I wind up gay.”
Caolinn: “We all do, Xavier.”
Fisticuffs and Shenanigans 