Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Friday, January 16, 2009

All Good Things...

Dear Friends,

"Writing is an exploration, you start from nothing and learn as you go." - E. L. Doctorow

And that statement is true. I look back at some of my early writings back in October and cringe a bit. At the time I didn't know what I wanted to say. I basically wrote whatever randomly popped into my head but it didn't mean anything.

I like to mix the lighthearted and heartwarming with the mildly tragic or rage-inducing. This is how I choose to share myself with all of you.

I started this blog on September 28, 2008 and in the past four months I have met some amazing people. You were kind, you commented, you gave advice, you shared my triumphs and my heartbreaks. You became my friends and each of you is precious. And in return for me letting you into my life, you gave me snapshots of yours.

I never would have believed that I could care so much about a group of people I have never met in person. That their lives could evoke honest-to-God emotion in me. I've laughed, I've cried, I've wondered what loony bin some of you escaped from, and I've been blessed with the knowledge that such wonderful human beings exist in the world.

It is very hard to earn my respect and admiration. Congratulations on accomplishing this feat.

But it is with a rather heavy heart that I bid farewell to Blogger. This site has become like my internet home but like all ducks, I must fly south for the winter.

Now as I would like to go out with a bang, I'm asking for your help. My last post here will be an interview conducted by all of you.

Yes, you.

If there are any questions you would like to ask like (what's your most embarrassing moment or why do you put the letter 'u' in weird places?). Must say that if you want to tell me just how much I rock (I practically ooze humility, don't I?) then that's fine too. Ask your questions in a comment or email and I'll answer on Monday for my LAST BLOGGER POST! It'll be published about 10 PM EST that day so stay tuned.

Marching to the beat of my own drum one last time,

Kendall (The Odd Duck)

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Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Wednesday Workshop: As I See You

Hi everyone, it's the glorious Miss Eva reporting for duty! As Kendall has a bit too much on his plate today he has let me (letting me doesn't necessarily mean he had a choice does it?) take over his blog and allow me to pop my Wednesday Workshop cherry. Ooh, so exciting.

PROMPT: Describe your significant other's most attractive quality (on the inside).

Were it not for that little add-on, there are so many ways I could have fun with this. In both dirty and non-dirty ways. But I suppose I shall simply have to be serious. Kendall had better appreciate this is all I've got to say.

Ahem.

If I had to pick out one characteristic as his most attractive, I might as well use the one that attracted me to him in the first place and made him hard not to fall in love with.

From the stories he's shared with you, some of you might have realized something about the teddy bear I call my boyfriend. He seems to be pretty dang near incapable of not caring about people. This includes people who have done him wrong, people he has never met in real life, people he barely knows, and even people who he has never heard of before.

It's as if he is drawn to people who need help and does whatever they need him to whether that's just listening, making them laugh, giving a hug, or completely changing the subject. He is easily one of the most kindhearted people it has ever been my pleasure to meet.

Me and Kendall (as well as The Bait, The Spawn, and Pippi) went to the same high school and despite the fact that me and him shared a lot of the same friends we never really had the opportunity to become friends ourselves. Now as I'm sure most of you know, I gave birth to baby Daybreak a few months after my 17th birthday when I was in my junior year. Her father, the ex, dumped me about three weeks before my due date.

So here I am, a heavily pregnant teenager whose boyfriend had left her after saying throughout that he would stand by her. I was sitting on one of these tables we had in the student parking lot and trying my very best not to start sobbing. When someone put a tissue in front of my face, saying it might help. And sure enough, there was Kendall with one hand outstretched to me and the other holding a half-full box of Kleenex. This boy, who I only knew peripherally, skipped that full period with me, just listening to me rant about the world in general.

It's just who he is.

I've watched him smile and say "hello" to random people on the street whom I ask if he knows. So very often the answer is that he has never seen them in his life but everyone deserves something as simple as a smile.

Whenever me and him take Daybreak to the park, God forbid he sees one child being picked on. The last time this happened, Kendall helped the boy out of the puddle he had been pushed into and after speaking to his mother for a moment, sent him over to the jungle gym where Daybreak was trying to emulate a pretzel.

Then there are the other things...

...making jokes and generally being silly until a frowning person can't help but laugh.

...even when he's sick, he will get out of bed and in his car, driving to pick someone up in the middle of the night after their car broke down.

...standing up for someone he personally dislikes merely because he thought it was right.

...leaving little notes for people telling them to have a nice day.

...or one of my personal favorites, when I feel like utter crap from menstrual cramps he's ready with a hot water bottle and those wonderful hands.

He's extremely polite, intelligent, humble to an almost disturbing degree, and such a goofball you can't not be happy around him, but his kindness is still my favorite.

Don't ever change, Amore.

XOXO Eva

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

That First Kiss (or The One Where He Proves How Stupid He Really Is)

This is my submission for the 20SB January Blog Carnival.

"We are starting off the New Year thinking all about "firsts."

So, tell us about your first kiss! Sloppy, magical, awkward, non-existent? Spill it!"

Oh, Internet, the things I put myself through for your entertainment.

Let us go back to January 2007, to a time when me and Tinkerbell are not dating yet. Actually at this point neither has admitted out loud to liking the other. We are on the hallway of her floor as she has (for 2,502,713th time) stolen my cell phone. In a moment of what I thought was brilliance I held her wrists while reaching for the phone.

"I bet I can get you to let go of me."

"How is that?"

Now I had assumed she meant kneeing me in the stomach so I prepared to move out of the way. I obviously had forgotten just who exactly I was dealing with and a lesson around Tinkerbell is to always always ALWAYS expect the unexpected. Before I really knew what was happening, she had leaned up and kissed me.

Folks if anyone had taken a picture of us at that moment here's what they would have seen.

Me with the single most pole-axed look I think I had ever had in my life and one hand absently touching my lips.

Tinkerbell with a smug grin on her face as she stepped out of my loose grip.

Because I was convinced there was no way she could like me in that way, I reasoned to myself she was merely playing around. Despite the fact that EVERY. LAST. ONE. of our friends told us to stop going in circles and start dating. Hell, one mutual friend actually refused to speak to us until we had started dating.

God, I was such an utterly clueless bastard.

But wait, it gets better.

Now I had been too surprised (which I want to beat myself for in hindsight) to kiss her back but my chance came about a week and a half later. She had walked me down to my floor as my knee had decided it wanted to be a bitch and was thus concerned I would fall down the steps. Now what she could have really done if I had aside from calling 911 I don't know but it's the thought that counts right?

Anyway, I digress.

So we're standing outside the door and I looked at her and now knowing that she did like me I decided 'to hell with it' and kissed her. I don't know about fireworks but I was most definitely lightheaded after we broke apart. We were both slightly out of breath and me being who I am just have to say something to ruin the moment.

"[Tinkerbell], what the hell are we?"

Yes, you did read that correctly.

To her credit, she merely laughed at my question instead of slugging me in the face.

Instead she has deigned not to let me live that down two years later.

Le sigh.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

A Tale of Bucks, Pups, and a Kiss for Luck

And hello 2009!

My New Year's Eve was spent with Eva, Daybreak, and The Devil A. K. A. my puppy. We played Monopoly. Me against team of Eva and Daybreak. I still say there was some money being slipped out of the bank but I'm not bitter.

Really.

More like impressed that they weren't caught.

You know the row between Jail/Just Visiting and Free Parking? Yeah that was death for me. By the end of the game, there was a hotel on New York Ave., Tennessee Ave., and St. James Place. To make matters worse, there were 3 houses on the purple properties whose names escape me at the moment.

Like I said, death.

I tried to fight back in other areas of the board but after landing on two hotels back-to-back and needing to mortgage one set of my houses, the game was pretty much over.

Then to add insult to injury, Daybreak takes a handful of their winnings, fans them out in her hands and gives her best attempt at a diabolical laugh. If you remember the classic nicktoon Rugrats, think Angelica's.

After my humiliating defeat we watched Mrs. Doubtfire and then Mulan, during which Daybreak fell asleep curled up against Eva's lap. After getting her ready for bed and then tucked in, we sat on the couch and sat talking for the last half hour of 2008.

When my clock struck 12, I put my hand on her cheek and kissed her. She put her arms around my neck and we stayed that way for a long minute, leaning our foreheads against each other after breaking apart.

Not a bad end to 2008. Not bad at all.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Bienvenido a Los Gemelos Nuevos

You two have no idea how much excitement has surrounded your arrival. It seems like it's been a lot longer than seven months since I found out about you. Now I get to meet you in person instead of talking to your mom's tummy like I did back in May.

As soon as I heard about you two showing up, early I might add, I cleared my schedule for this weekend and fully intend to wake up Friday before dawn and make the 12-plus hour drive to meet you in person. Speaking of being early, are we sure you're Mami's kids? This is the woman who once told me, "I'm never late. I arrive exactly when I mean to."

But I digress.

I can't wait until you two are older and we can really hang out. This is part of why I hate that Mami lives so far away now. I can't see you all as often as I would like but you had best believe that whenever I have the chance, you'll see that green Nissan pull up outside your window. When you're teenagers, maybe you'll just fly down on your own to stay with me while I (try as I may to deny it to your mom) will probably spoil you rotten.

I think I'm entitled.

Oh and I feel sorry for you Little Miss I, because you get me as a big brother figure, and when I want to, I can intimidate people. A skill I intend to use should any boy you deign to date not measure up. But don't worry, I'm pretty sure that will be unnecessary. But before you get excited and assume you're off the hook, I have to burst your bubble. Any boy you date has to deal with Mami first and any one who can pass her scrutiny will pass my muster. Little Mister G, same goes with you and girls. Just pray your mom is NOT the one who gives you the talk.

Next Christmas you two will be close to one year old and I have all ready seen some little Santa hats that would be adorable on you. Your mom and R will have you dressed up as elves, it's amazing how funny that is now that someone else is going to be subjected to that instead of myself. We'll sing songs while you two babble some of the words and generally make everyone's hearts melt around you.

When you two graduate from high school and later college, I will be there. Tissues in one hand and camera in the other. I'll be fit to burst with pride, love, happiness, and just a little bit of sadness. It was bad enough watching Mil graduate from high school, seeing you two walk across that stage will mean you are getting older. That so very much time has passed since the time I saw you as little more than a bump under Mami's shirt.

Your mom, along with her wife, took in a quasi-neglected 8 year-old boy and now a bit over 12 years later has asked that same boy to take on the role of godfather to you two. It meant more than I know how to vocalize just how much that meant to me. Me and Mami have been through a lot, the past year has been full of tears and no small amount of anger but we're passed it now. Here's my first lesson to you, you and your family will fight. It's inevitable. However, don't ever doubt they love you. Any of us would give our right arm for you. And each other for that matter.

One day you'll be grow up, go to school, get jobs, maybe get married, maybe have children of your own. I can only hope that throughout all that you stay true to yourselves, be happy, never become so busy you fail to consider the hearts of others, and most importantly, remember that I love you.

I promise here and now that I will do everything in my power to do right by you both. It seems fitting that your mom taught me to have faith in family and now I get to return the favour to you two. Full circle and all that.

Welcome to the world little ones, it's a brighter place with you in it.

Lovingly yours,

Kendall

P. S. I make no promises about not embarrassing you too much. I will take exorbitant amounts of pictures whenever I see you, I expect a dance with Little Miss I should she ever get married, and childhood stories will be told to any significant other. Sorry kids, it's all part of my job description.


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Saturday, December 27, 2008

To Mr. Kris Kringle, A Thank You

Dear Santa,

I know, I know. You must be wondering why I'm writing again when I just wrote that letter earlier in the week. Well since I just posted about appreciated things while you still have them I would feel remiss if I did not thank you.

Me and Eva have had several long talk and as of approx. 6 PM today, we are back together. I spent part of Christmas morning with her and Daybreak before heading to The Godmother's and later on in the day at her mom's who then insisted I stay for a while.

I found myself started to question if I was right during the summer. If needing people was only inviting trouble. But I would like to think I have felt all I have just to prove that my younger self was wrong. That I cannot make it through life without others. I would be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn't miserable.

Now seeing as how Mami will be giving birth soon, I can only pray that you make it two for two.

Humbly yours,

Kendall

Friday, December 19, 2008

On Appreciation

You never know quite what you have until it's gone. I thought I had all ready learned that lesson last year, really DID NOT need the remedial course.

I remember being afraid of Eva developing feelings for me, thinking I did not deserve a second chance. That she could do so much better.

I remember feeling terrified and simultaneously amazed that Daybreak would adopt me as her dad and that I would come to think of her as my own.

Slowly but surely, these two carved out a home in my heart. So when Eva told me we should stop seeing each other, it was like my world stopped. My heart pounded and my eyes widened as I tried to comprehend why.

Yet despite how horrible I felt and still do, I almost hissed a negative response when asked if I regretted dating her in first place.

From her using my legs as a pillow while we studied, to picnic lunches in the park and lazing the day away playing, to the days I would keep an eye on Daybreak while Eva worked, to teasing each other like a family would, the past seven months have been some of the happiest of my life and I would not trade them.

One of my greatest fears was that I would do something to screw up this relationship. In the irony that seems to govern my life at times, I did too well trying to prove I could do right by someone and Eva broke up with me before we got too close for lasting damage.

My simple response was, "it's too late for that hun."

So Internet, I turn to you in my time of need. Especially those of who you are single parents or have dated them.

Is it OK to be selfish and want this to work even after she broke up with me? Or should I just try and be her friend? I'm at a lost here as I want so badly to just say screw it and kiss her senseless the next time I see her. I probably won't (not saying never as I know how my emotions take over at times) but it won't be for lack of desire to.

I know when to admit that I'm in over my head. Now is most definitely one of those times.

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Friday, November 28, 2008

You're Not A Guy, You're A Kendall

I'm a wee bit old fashioned. I'll admit it.

I was raised by an 80 year-old Spanish woman and two lesbians, so I grew up...oddly. Of those three, only one is still alive but sadly moved back to Boston in January.

Because of them, I am a very polite individual by nature. Until the time I was 15, I would stand whenever a female left the table. I kid you not. I always say please and thank you and I use the words sir and ma'am a lot. If I am walking out a door and I even see someone who might use it as well, even if they're 20 seconds away, I will stop and hold it for them. I can't help it.

I did not know quite how to take it when The Ginger told me I was too nice when I held the door for someone.

This also applies to my relationships.

I couldn't do a one-night stand. I'm not even sure I could pull a "friends with benefits" type deal. I highly doubt it. Cheating is out of the question.

Maybe rape did have some positive effects. I don't see sex as just something to do nor do I try and sleep with everything in a skirt. Despite rumours to the contrary. I need to love someone to be intimate with them. I spent far too long thinking of myself as used goods to cheapen the act.

Is it really that strange for a 20 year-old guy NOT to sleep around?

Eva was amazed that it took me as long as I did to get to that point. I remember one particular fight over the summer where I tried to explain to her why I didn't have sex with her and how it was not because I did not find her attractive. I just...wasn't in love with her yet.

“Sex is more than an act of pleasure, it's the ability to be able to feel so close to a person, so connected, so comfortable that it's almost breathtaking to the point you feel you can’t take it. And at this moment you're a part of them."


Am I naive?

Maybe.

But I like being able to look in the mirror and not see "used goods" anymore.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Doing The Best I Can

I hadn't planned on posting this week as between my test tonight, planning a Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, a new research project, and finalizing my plans for this weekend, I've been stretched a wee bit thin. However I felt I should share something with y'all.

Allow me to admit something, I have bouts of pretty low self-esteem. Which means that I have trouble believing people when they say good things about me. I'm better about it than I used to be, but I can never be called egotistical.

After our mini-Thanksgiving; me, Eva, and Daybreak were on her couch under a blanket. Daybreak had fallen asleep sitting on my lap while me and Eva were talking quietly. I never realized I was doing it but I had started stroking Daybreak's hair and humming.

Eva just watched me, smiling.

Me: What is it?
Eva: Just enjoying the scene.
Me: What scene?
Eva: You and Daybreak.
Me: I'm still lost here.
Eva: You are very good with her for someone who thinks he would be a horrible dad.
Me: She deserves a better one.
Eva: In her eyes, there couldn't be a better one. And I'm starting to agree with her.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

A Letter To Eva

Dear Eva,

Six months ago tomorrow, you lost all common sense decided that you really did want to date me and it wasn't just a passing bit of insanity. Where has all the time gone?

I tried to fight against you liking me.

I remember back in May when I tried to explain why you shouldn't date me. You sat through my explanations, held my hand when some old emotions resurfaced, and nodding to show you were listening. You then placed a hand on my cheek and thanked me for being honest. I was waiting for you to put me out of your life.

It never happened.

I was sure you could do so very much better than me. Someone more attractive, someone funnier, someone nicer, someone not as dorky, just better all around.

You were amused at how terrified I was to meet your family. I figured your mom and little sister were flukes, no way my luck could hold out. Strangely enough your family seemed to like me and your sisters and mom have actually accepted me. I look back on how nervous I was for that Myrtle Beach trip and have to shake my head. Sorry for being such a spaz Hon.

I still need to thank Imogen for finally getting through my stubbornness the night of our first date. Had she been there, I wouldn't have to confront feelings for you (at least not at the moment) as doing so was a frightening prospect back then.

You've somehow managed to not get fed up with me in six months. How, considering that I like to tease, is a mystery.

You and Daybreak have become such a large part of my life in such a short amount of time. It seems like just yesterday me and you were just friends who helped each other study for ridiculously difficult psych tests. Now we've actually talked about the possibility of renting a townhouse together, even though it's been vetoed at this moment in time.

You constantly tell me that you are sure you had made the right decision in liking and later loving me. I thought I was going to jump out my skin when I felt you kiss me on the back of the neck that night.

I want to make this work. And I'm brave enough to admit I'm scared that I will screw up this relationship. I can't help it.

For some reason you think I am a wonderful person and I suppose that all I can do is try my best to prove you right.

Then last night you admitted you would actually like to marry me. It wasn't a proposal and you weren't expecting an answer but it still changed things. When asked, I told you that had you actually asked me to marry you I'd have said no for now.

Remember that I also said for now.

The future, after all, has yet to be written.

I have seen you at your best and your worst. I've seen you with no makeup and bedhead to looking like you walked off the cover of a fashion magazine. I've seen you in tears. I've helped take care of you when you're sick, massaged you when cramps or stress set in, and tried to listen and help with your problems.

I love that you can make me smile and laugh. I love that you are willing to listen and genuinely care what I have to say. I love that you can and will tell me when you think I am wrong and try and help me get on track.

You have helped to teach me to trust in myself and I don't know how to repay you for that.

You carved out a space for yourself in my heart.

Even when I tease you and sing annoying songs just to get them stuck in your head.

I only do it because I care.

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Love,

Kendall

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

I've Never Been Normal...

And this is no different.

Most people do not consider their ex a friend. Fewer still consider them their best friend.

Well I'm not called an odd duck for nothing, am I?

Me and Tinkerbell are still very close, we've had our ups and downs but I know that if I ever needed help she would do all she could and I would do the same for her. Basically all that's changed is that we don't have romantic feelings for each other.

I look back on the early part of the summer where I actually thought I could stop loving her and have to shake my head. I was miserable and guilty and, all in all, not that fun a person to be around. Then Eva sat me down and told me flat-out that I didn't have it in me not to love someone who meant so much to me. I tried to explain that it was wrong of me to feel that way when she asked me why I thought I should be normal now when I never had been before. So I stopped stressing about it.

And lo and behold, I was much happier.

She taught me that I did deserve to be loved and that everyone deserves a second chance. It is her influence that is the reason why I am so forgiving now. She taught me to do all I can to keep my promises. She also beat into my head that I was not trash and that I actually am a good person. She would argue that and say I'm a wonderful person to which I respond "baby steps." I have been truly blessed to have her in my life and wonder what I would do without her.

You kept me from killing myself and then helped me figure out who I was and I can never really repay you for that. Won't stop me from trying though. You know better than anyone that I am nothing if not stubborn.

You try and say you are nothing special. I merely ask that you remember our motto: "Sometimes the way we see ourselves isn't as true as the way others see us."

You're my best friend Tinkerbell, and I love you dearly.

Thank you for all you have done for me Darlin'.

And always remember...

Thursday, November 6, 2008

The Pursuit Of Happiness

“Many of the great achievements of the world were accomplished by tired and discouraged men who kept on working.” - Anonymous

On Tuesday, November 4, 2008 at approximately 11:00 PM EST Barack Obama was declared President-Elect and many in the nation exploded into jubilation. After months of wondering if this country, only 40 years removed from the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, would elect a biracial man as her president, it felt like we had come far. It seemed as if America was more united than she had been since that nation-changing Tuesday morning seven years ago.

I personally was on what could easily be referred to as an election high for almost the next 24 hours. Nothing could bring me down.

You'd think I'd have learned by now that fate is determined to prove I am her bitch. Yet my stubborn ass just keeps trying her. Obviously, I have a masochistic streak and enjoy learning my life lessons from the School of Hard Knocks.

Ask and ye shall receive.

I am speaking of course about California's Proposition 8. I had been on my way home from class when I get a call from Ruth telling me the results.

My heart dropped somewhere in the vicinity of my left shoe and a great deal of the optimism I had been feeling turned into inarticulate anger. I remember having to count backwards in Spanish just so I would not let loose a stream of profanity in public.

Hearing my own congregation speak on how we should support the passing of Prop 8 actually made me leave during Mass. I could not sit there and listen to Father Oaks, someone I have come to respect and trust, say that it was not an attack on the homosexual community but a defense of marriage. Nor could I hear the rationale that marriage was always intended to be one man and one woman.

Oh really? So I'm just imagining the stories of Abraham, Jacob, David, Solomon? All of whom had multiple wives and yet are touted as men we should aspire to be similar to. I despise hypocrisy so please do not waste my time using it to strengthen your argument.

Furthermore, where exactly in the Bible does it condemn same-sex marriage? I've looked extensively and have yet to uncover a single verse that expressly condemns a loving, monogamous relationship between two people of the same gender. In fact, look up the story of the relationship between Daniel, David, and Ruth as an example.

As for Prop 8 not being an attack on the homosexual community, that is akin to claiming Jim Crow and the Apartheid were not attacks against those of colour but merely to protect the stability of the nation. Then some have the nerve to claim that gay couples are still afforded all kinds of rights. Even some moderates say that civil unions should be enough.

Does the phrase "separate yet equal" mean anything these days?

In four states, it is expressly prohibited for lesbians and gays to adopt children and even in the states where it is allowed, there is a myriad of rules and prohibitions that make this very difficult.

Imagine that your wife has just died. You are sick with grief and the worry that your adopted child will be taken away by the state. Then have that same child die in a car crash barely two weeks from her fifteenth birthday. Now nearly a near later, you are pregnant with twins and seriously considering marrying your girlfriend. And every day, you feel ill worrying what might happen to those children should something happen to you. This is Mami's life.

I was asked why I care so much about Prop 8 when I myself am straight. You want to get personal, fine, we'll go personal.

Growing up, I learned fairly early in my childhood that I could not depend on my parents. My mom had too much work to do and my dad...well, he couldn't really be bothered to care. As horrible as it sounds, I was fairly convinced that family was largely useless. I thought marriage was something only the older generation (like my great-grandparents) could make work.

You say you want to protect the children?

As far as I am concerned I was raised by Rose and Mami. They have always done whatever they could for me. They took an interest in my life and my happiness. I will never forget me calling them my family for the first time and the crying, smiling mass of limbs we were on their pool deck that night years ago. They were the only people under the age of 70 who wanted to protect me.

I was overcome with emotion when I saw that they had long thought to legally adopt me. Those papers were proof that someone somewhere wanted me as their child, something I had long doubted. I am proud to call them my moms and would have been prouder to still to have that recognized by the state.

Were it not for them, I would see marriage as a crock of shit. So how can it be that they and those like them are destroying the institution?

I don't understand.

It's a strange parallel when just shortly after my parents had their first birthdays, anti-miscegenation laws were rendered to be no longer in effect. These laws had been held to protect the sanctitiy of race. Now four decades later, we worry about the sanctitiy of marriage.

Daybreak, with all the innocence and clear-sight of a child, has said it best when she said, "no one can tell Auntie Imogen (who is her godmother) that she can't get married. She should have a happily ever after too!"

Sweetheart, truer words were never spoken.

So it is that I must temper my excitement in the wake of President-Elect Obama's win. We have come so very far in our short history.

This is true.

However, the passing of Proposition 8 also shows that we have so very far to go.

I will not give up hope though.

Los Gemelos Nuevos deserve to have their family acknowledged and supported.

Imogen and Ruth deserve to have the right to get married should they choose.

For that to happen, we must acknowledge and stand by the fact that marriage is a right, not a priveledge.

In 1967, then Chief Justice Earl Warren wrote in the decision of the Supreme Court Case Loving v. Virginia:

"The freedom to marry has long been recognized as one of the vital personal rights essential to the orderly pursuit of happiness by free men."

If not now, then when?

Sunday, November 2, 2008

My Place of Zen? Just Point Me Towards The Kitchen

"Cooking is like love. It should be entered into without abandon or not at all." - Harriet van Horne, American newspaper columnist


Allow me to state for the record that I love to cook which is ironic seeing as how I don't eat nearly like I should. If you look on my 101 Things in 1,001 Days list you'll see that #22 is to eat at least two meals a day every day for a month. Folks, that hasn't happened since December 2006. And I wish I were making that up.

For as long as I can remember, I've had a not-so-secret dream to one day own my own restaurant.

Some of my fondest memories of my childhood are of learning how to cook. Me and Mil had little foot stools at our grandparent's house so that we could reach the counter tops to help her. Grandma C always told us that when you cook for someone you love, whether it is in the familial, platonic, or romantic, you add a bit of your soul to the food. Hence why a home cooked meal always taste better than one made by hired hands.

A bit of your soul. I didn't understand when she first said that when I was a preschooler. But having Daybreak sit in my lap as I show her how to make apple pie from scratch, I get it now.

I love seeing people enjoy a meal I'd prepared. For that bit of time that they spend eating and talking with one another, I can watch them forget about some of their troubles. Whether it is that test looming ever closer or vexing situations with work, during a good meal the world's stresses aren't so pressing. I enjoy taking care of people, this is just one of the ways I go about doing so. I have a slight 'Mother Hen' complex; I'm man enough to admit it.

Quite simply, cooking is cathartic for me.

So after a rather hellish visit to my parents, I came back to my home here and started making a good Sunday dinner for my friends here.

We laughed as I teased The Bait for his extraordinary ineptness in the kitchen. We laughed during the fencing match me and Eva had with the spoons and we all gave chase as Faith made off with one of them. In preparation of caroling, all ten of us (Faith got in on the act as well) sang "Joy To The World" and "Silent Night". Seated around me and The Bait's living room, I felt the emotional baggage of yesterday fall away.

There is no divorce looming here. There are no harsh silences or loud arguments. There are no alcohol-fueled tears.

This is my home.

These lunatics are my family.

By God, I love them.

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Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The Day The Innocence Died

Eating lunch with a group of my Bio classmates, we somehow stumbled upon the topic of frat parties and date rape. The girls shared about how they never let their drinks out of their sight while us guys talked about keeping an eye on our female friends. The conversation had moved to more pleasant subjects when one jackass from the table over makes the comment that any one stupid enough to be raped, had it coming.

Please allow me to explain something. I think rapists are the scum of the earth along with child abusers and murderers. So when this guy said this as if it was common sense, I had to fight down the urge to throw down right there. Thankfully, The Ginger had to have a death grip on my wrist so I wouldn't make a move.

In the urge to protect one of my secrets, I quickly calmed myself down. Apparently not quick enough. The Ginger pulled me around the corner and asked why I took what that guy said so personally. I felt exposed. I stamped out (barely) the tremor in my voice as I told her that it was personal to me.

Why?

Well because I know how it feels to be on the receiving end. One day in the early fall of 1996, my innocence was obliterated behind a neighboring house. I was held down by four guys who decided to have some fun with the kid who thought he could run his mouth to them.

Two things I took away from that experience.

  1. Adults are useless. I remember going home and doing what I could to clean myself. I remember my mom asking how my day was. I said it was OK. Showing just how much she knew her oldest child, she believed me. I think that's when I gave up on her.
  2. Sex is pain. I was terrified of sex for most of my life. I thought of myself as used goods until Tinkerbell held me and told me that couldn't be farther from the truth. I was stunned. She knew I had been raped and still thought I was worth something? I'm sad to say but it made no sense to me that she would not turn me away at that point. That night, I got over my fear of physical intimacy for good.That night, I finally cried.
For so many years I carried so much rage in me. No 8 year-old should ever know what it is like to want to see someone dead. I did not share this with anyone until I was 19 and I didn't share the full story until I was almost 20. Then with Tinkerbell's help, I learned to let go of the hate and forgive them. Which was far more difficult than it sounds.

No one ever ASKS to be raped and to think such tripe goes beyond ignorance into inhumane territory. If you yourself are a victim of rape or any type of sexual abuse, I urge you to seek help somewhere either from a professional or from a highly trusted friend or relative.

You are not alone.

You are not worthless.

You DID NOT DESERVE IT.

Remember There Is Help...There Is Hope.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

A Letter To My Daybreak

Dear Daybreak,

I can't believe you'll be four years old on Friday. Should I let you read this when you're older, you'll be shocked to know your mom called me almost in tears about this fact the other night. This growing up thing you're doing? Yeah, that needs to stop ASAP. You so often act like a child far older that I forget you're not quite old enough for kindergarten yet.

You have all ready begun to master the art of sarcasm and the eye roll. You love talking on the phone. You channel a Mexican jumping bean whenever your mom takes you shopping. It's like a teenager in the body of a preschooler. Then you'll turn around tell me and your mom to please be quiet because Sesame Street is on and you can't miss it. Don't even get me started on someone talking during a commercial. It's like a capital crime to you.

Did you know I saw you a few days after you were born? Your mom stopped by the school with you and I even got to hold you for a few minutes. You were very small, not even as long as my forearm and I hadn't seen your gorgeous green eyes yet. I had no idea then that I would start to call you mine. I've only known you since late February and yet it scares me how much I love you.

There, I admit it.

You scared me.

I can see you as a teenager, reading this. You turn to me, bat your eyelashes, and say "you were scared of little ole me?"

Dear, I stand guilty as charged.

Since I've known you, your vocabulary has exploded. From the moment you found out I spoke Spanish, you made me your Dora buddy. You would flit around the house and point to random things, say their Spanish name, then look to me for confirmation. You are always looking for something to learn. Eva says it isn't surprising since your favourite word has always been 'why'.

"Why is the ground down and the sky up?"

"Why can't we live in the water like my goldfish?"

"Why are you (me) so much darker than Mommy?"

When me and Eva were still just friends and even when we first started dating, I didn't want you to get too attached to me. I didn't want you to be heartbroken if things didn't work out between us. I don't know how to put into words just how much it hurt to see you burst into tears during that conversation.

You melt my little black heart (no pun intended) on a regular basis with the comments that come out of your mouth. Such as you telling every person in Ben & Jerry's they could eat poo if they didn't like me and Eva dating each other. Or your passionate stance that no one should be alone on the holidays, not even scarecrows.

With every day me and you spend together, Eva has to ask if you are becoming my daughter by osmosis. When you and your mom came over for dinner the other night, you told me you were ready to go through the haunted lab. I asked if you were sure you wanted to. You gave me a look that clearly said YES, DID I STUTTER? so I let it go. I'm pretty much sure you'll be scared out of your mind but I call this learning the hard way.

You now try and read anything you can get your little hands on. I have never laughed so hard in a grocery store before in my life as when I heard you ask loudly MOMMY, WHAT'S A RUBBER? DO GROWN-UPS HAVE TUB TOYS TOO?! Come to think of it, I've never rushed out (against my will) of one so fast either. Yet you still prefer to sit in either me or Eva's lap and have us read to you. Whatever takes the least amount of energy right? After all, driving your mom nuts is a full-time job even between the two of us.

I've never met a child quite like you. You will jump from the top of a slide without hesitation. I thought me and Eva were about to have a heart attack. You dusted your hands on your jeans, gave us a crooked grin, and said you just wanted to see if the ground would catch you. Issac Newton has nothing on this kid.

Then on the nights I'm there when it's your bedtime, you'll ask me to check under your bed and in your closet. For monsters, you say. But unlike most children, you're not afraid of them. You want them to crawl into bed with you so they can be comfortable. You looked dead at me and said, everyone needs someone to love them. Even monsters. You explained that they're like you when you haven't had a good nap. Cranky and mean. Some sleep would make them feel better.

You're finally getting over your phobia of milk or booger juice as you call it. Yeah, my bad. I have to admit though that seeing you flee at the very sight of a cow is hilarious and completely worth the smack to the head. I've even started baking cookies from scratch since you love doing it so much. Although you did cry when I made fun of you for getting the flour everywhere. I even felt horrible. That is until you threw some IN MY FACE. Yeah, that's my girl.

By the way, I will never forget you pointing to Sarah Palin on television and asking 'why is this lady on TV instead of Wal-Mart?'

For the past three weeks, all you have been able to talk about is your birthday bash on Saturday. Especially when you found out your Aunt I and Aunt G were coming home from New York to be there. You've talked my ear off at length on what dress you plan to wear, and how cool the cake your mom let you pick out is going to be. You have what games you want to play planned out beside your bed. Twice now you've actually talked yourself to sleep. Congratulations on surpassing me in the motormouth department.

Sadly, I was unable to figure out just how to get Big Bird to your party.

Maybe next year.

I have to smile watching you drive your pink Barbie convertible with your sunglasses on. You throw your head back and laugh at the freedom you have as you zoom across your Grandma's backyard. But as you race towards the sunset, my smile is a bit sad.

One day you'll do that for real.

At age four, you think all boys but me, your uncles, and your new cousin are icky. You think make-up is just for playtime with your mom. And you still think skittles are a zillion times more valuable than a dollar bill. Will you stay this child forever? No, you thought Peter Pan was silly for not wanting to grow up. You'll grow into an amazing woman who I look forward to getting to know.

But for now?

You're still the kid who snuggles between me and Eva for story time and one who I'm equally proud of and fascinated by.

So happy birthday Daybreak, I love you. Yes even the time when I tricked you into trying broccoli.

Love,
Papa

Thursday, October 9, 2008

On Broken Wings and Relearning to Fly Part II

It took me a good portion of the summer months to believe that Eva had not made a mistake in liking, and later loving me. It honestly surprised me that she was so patient with my issues. There was still a dilemma though.

Could I love her? Could I open myself up again? Would I end up making the same mistakes all over again?

I had to try. I wanted our relationship to work and was willing to work at it. I remember sitting with her in her living room and telling her the worst of me, not wanting her to find out down the road and it cause trust issues. And, as ashamed as I am to admit it, I wanted to see if she would think I was no good and call things off.

Imagine my shock when she merely thanked me and said she was proud of me for being open about it.

So throughout the summer, we spent time together and generally had a blast. Took lots of trips to the park, went with her and her family to Myrtle Beach, went to more movies than I ever have in one summer, did a lot of cooking, and for the first time since September 2007, I was on my way to being happy with my lot in life.

I tried to completely get over Tinkerbell, I had always been told you should put your ex out of your mind. The following snippet of conversation changed that.

Eva: She was your first love and even now, you want her to be happy. It would be unlike you to stop loving someone.
Me: But isn't that a bad thing in this case?
Eva: You're Kendall. I don't think you could help it if you tried. And honestly, that's a good thing. Your heart is too big not to love people.

I decided to give her advice to try and not worry about it so much. Lo and behold, I was much happier with myself as a result.

“Love yourself—accept yourself—forgive yourself—and be good to yourself, because without you the rest of us are without a source of many wonderful things.” - Leo F. Buscagilia


Life is funny in that you only learn the lessons after you've taken the test. I have accepted myself and am working on loving myself. Forgiving myself? That's still a work in progress but I am hopeful.

In a complete turnaround from the last post which had me crying, this one just makes me want to call Eva up, curl up on the couch with a blanket, and enjoy her company.

I think I like this idea.

Here's hoping you all find a little love in your lives,

Kendall (The Odd Duck)

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Wednesday, October 8, 2008

On Broken Wings And Relearning to Fly Part I

Normally I have no trouble getting the words down once I pick a topic. Normally I don't dread making a post. Normally I'm not afraid of what people are going to think when they read it.

I suppose there must be a first time for everything.

My tattered well-loved copy of Webster's defines love as a warm attachment and the passion between the sexes.

My Bible has several definitions but my personal favorite is 1 Corinthians 13:4.

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.


Through my own stupidity I lost the first person I loved and in doing so broke my own heart in the process. For those first two months at least, the only thing keeping me somewhat sane was that I had disappointed Tinkerbell. I would all I could to avoid doing so ever again. I hated myself but I had to try and make amends.

I lost count of how many sleepless nights I've had, crying to myself.

I lost count of how many times in those first two months the thought of suicide actually crossed my mind.

I lost count of how many times I would try and eat only to throw it up shortly after.

I had no idea who I was anymore. So I had to learn to depend on her, and soon enough, I did. She was the one person I actually talked about my emotions with. Everyone else thought I was getting better much quicker than I actually was. She knew better and would call me on it.

Slowly I started to believe I wasn't trash. I thought maybe I really could have a second chance.

Funny how life works out sometimes, I found my second chance at happiness but not in the way I was expecting.

While taking community college classes before transferring to UNC, I had a Developmental Psych course with Eva. We had gone to high school together even though we were never really friends but we became study buddies and then friends.

Somehow Eva got it in her head that I was dating material. I was actually gobsmacked when she admitted it. Then against my head's warnings, I started to like her as well. The problem? I loved Tinkerbell.

I refused to admit I liked Eva for about a month but at the same time, Tinkerbell had met a very good guy and we were realizing that we couldn't be together. We wished each other well in trying new relationships.

Slowly I let myself develop feelings for Eva. Feelings that came to a head May 24, when I asked her out when we had gone dancing.

What seems like a lifetime ago, I gave my word to hold nothing back from Tinkerbell and had done my best to keep that promise. She said she didn't want to hear about Eva as it hurt too much and I respected that decision.

A bit of trivia about Tinkerbell. She knows me better than just about anyone in the world and she can tell when something is bothering me so when she asked I told her. I guess I pushed her too far because she told me I merely saw her as my shrink.

People, I do not open up easily. At all. In fact, it's taken me hours just to get myself to share this much with you. But to hear that from her, I had to ask myself if I did.

I even asked my other close friends if I treated them like that.

With a higher reluctance to talk to people about my problems, how was I to even attempt a relationship with Eva? Sadly, I will have to finish this story tomorrow. Too many buried emotions have been unearthed as is and I need a break. Sleep would be great too.

To be concluded...