Today on Bilerico: "If S/he Were Positive, Would You Stay?"

Found this week on PostSecret, posted to Bilerico.

Monday Mystery: Call Me

Capriciously stolen from fabulous Christopher.

Sunday Shuffle

Tunes from my iPod. This time there's something for everyone.

1. Right Where It Belongs / Nine Inch Nails
2. Conjunction Junction / Grammar Rock
3. Scream And Run Away / The Gothic Archies
4. Sase [Sassy] / George Winston
5. White Room / Cream
6. South’s Gonna Do It Again / Charlie Daniels Band
7. Carmina Burana - O Fortuna / Carl Orff

Overheard: Shopping

I'm at the store, and I decide to do something foolish: buy something for my son when he's not with me. I call him.

Me: "I'm at the store, and I found a winter jacket you might li-"

Ben: "Mom Mom Mom. I have a new jacket."

Me: "It's a sweatshirt."

Ben: "Oh. Yeah."

Me: "Anyway, this one is very dark gray with medium gray accents. Very dreary. It's perfect for you."

Ben: "You can return it, right?"

Me: *Sigh* "Yes."

Ben: "Okay. I guess."


Posted on my BlackBerry from the parking lot.

Update: He kept the jacket.

Someday...

We all have that list in our heads and hearts, that list of things we want to do "someday.” When does someday come? The idea was brought to a head for me by a friend a couple of years ago. We were chatting about this and that and the conversation led to piloting an airplane. I exclaimed that I’d always wanted to learn how to fly. Then I began to blame circumstances for why I couldn’t do it.

My friend stopped my litany. He owns a plane (actually, two). He offered free use of his small passenger plane whenever I wanted to use it for lessons. Just like that.

Well. I was stunned. Then the reality of his offer began to take my mind where it hadn’t gone until then. I pictured myself in the cockpit. (Cool.) I pictured the hours and dedication it would take to get my license. (Okay.) I pictured the day I got my license. What next? (Uh oh.) I have no plane. It would be cheaper to take an airline than to rent one’s own plane. Reality check.

Okay, so that’s a dream and not a goal. (Still, it would be cool to fly a plane.) But what on my list is realistic?

For years since high school, I’ve wanted to get back to scuba diving. I did it only for a year in high school and only because I had a friend who owned equipment that I could borrow. Once I started going to college, all my pennies went to books and tuition. Then on a teacher’s salary, diving became a pipe dream. The years flew by.

I loved scuba diving. It is the closest I’ll get to flying without wings (because I do not have a death wish for cliff diving in a squirrel suit). It is so beautiful, drifting by the seascape, hovering here and there, exploring the ocean floor or river bottom.

It was another friend who brought this dream back to life for me. She and “the girls” go to Cozumel every year for a dive trip. On the cusp of her departure last summer, she invited me to get recertified and join them next year. That sparked the pictures in my head again.

This time, I pictured myself taking the lessons (no problem), buying basic gear (okay), renting the pricey gear (yep), and going on dive trips. Cozumel may be out of my price range, but Florida isn’t it. Score.

I started my lessons last Wednesday. Due to holidays, we won’t meet every Wednesday; but I will finish up the first week in January. I could take my final open water test—two dives—in a cold and murky quarry. In January. In Indiana. OR I could do what a lot of people do and go someplace warm (with boat drinks!) to finish the course. I’ll be heading to Florida in February for my annual trip home, so I’ll be going to the Keys once again.

“Someday” is here for this item on my list. What’s next? And what’s on your list?

I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.

Today on Bilerico: "Simon LeVay and the Biology of Sexual Orientation"

I had the privilege of attending a seminar last Friday in which a neuroscientist and several mental health counselors addressed the challenges in understanding and working with clients who are lesbian, gay, and bisexual. Read my account of the day here.

Pure American Sockhound

When Sophie was young, she used to carry small socks around with her toys. The vet tells us it relieves stress for her. Okey-doke. It was fine until someone she didn't trust walked into the room. Then—gulp! She'd swallow the sock to keep from losing it. We had twenty minutes to get that thing out of her before it might call for surgery, so off we went to the vet. This happened five times over a couple of years, at $100 per sock for the emergency vet. (No, they don't offer frequent visit discounts. I asked.)

She always trusted me, so I started praising her for bringing me the socks. Then I'd hide them out of reach. This has turned into a daily ritual that requires Sophie to find and bring me a sock or three with a toy every single morning.

Yesterday she couldn't find a sock. She raced around downstairs. She came upstairs and rooted through Ben's jeans on the floor, pawing them aside in her search. No socks could be found. That afternoon, I had four socks on the table before dinner. I think she found them in laundry baskets in the basement. (And those baskets are on a table.)

Last night I asked Ben to please leave his socks on the floor for her to find in the morning. Yep, two dirty socks were dropped in my lap this morning along with a chew toy. Good dog!

Order is restored.

Sunday Shuffle

Tunes from my iPod.

1. Our Town / Iris DeMent
2. People Are Strange / The Doors
3. Please Come To Boston / Harry Chapin
4. Seven Bridges Road / The Eagles
5. Fanfare For The Common Man / Aaron Copland
6. Simple Man / Lynyrd Skynyrd
7. Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay / Otis Redding

Heaven's Gate

Click to embiggen.

Today on Bilerico: "A Presbyterian Welcome..."

I attended the Covenant Network of Presbyterian Churches' annual convention in sunny warm tropical Cleveland. This article talks about my initial disappointment.