New Life

Those are JEANS I am wearing. Skirt summer is sadly over. It's cold in the mornings now. I'm not even sure if we're going to have one last blast of heat like we usually do. Strange, strange weather this year. The farmer's almanac (which I tend to trust more than the weather channel) says the Midwest is in for some serious snowfall this winter, which brings happy, happy to my soul. But in the meantime, I'm mourning the lake.

We're having a PARTY at my house on Sunday night! The Death Of Summer. We're oh-so-cheerful and upbeat around here you know. I'm making my specialty shredded beef, and I'm looking for a new name for it. Everyone loves it and there's never any leftovers. I quote, "I can't eat anymore. I can't. Okay. Just one more sandwich. Just one more. And then no more. God, Kate. Why do you make this stuff?" I LOVE that line. I'm thinking of calling it Vulture Cow. Suggestions, pleaseandthankyou.

We send invitations out in all forms - text messages, emails, smoke signals, and on (gasp) paper. And they all say the same thing at the bottom. "Gay Friendly and Kid Approved." Which means that kids are welcome (and usually have a blast) and that if you can't handle the gays, don't bother coming. Now, I am usually tolerant of the first question, "What does that mean, Gay Friendly?" And I cheerfully remind them that I live with a gay man who will probably have some of his compatriats join us and not to worry - they don't want your hairy ass anyway. And then I leave it up to them if they're comfortable with that or not. But the second question raises my ire in a way I can't describe. "Don't gay people like - you know - kids?" To which I have several responses. Most of which are uttered with clenched teeth and a hope in my heart that they're just stupid. "Homosexuals are no more likely to molest children than heterosexuals." which I say with the implicit barb of youwouldn'tbeaskingthatifyoudidn'thinkkidswerehotyoufuckingfreak. And the nicer one which is, "No. Why do you ask?" Which puts it all back on them for being stupid.

The coolest thing that's happened from me living with Gay Boyfriend and the strange and sundry mix of friends we've thrown together over the last two years is that there's been some serious acceptance in places there wasn't before. My scary Harley-riding-biker-friends in their leathers and boots have taken a shine to Gay Boyfriend. They sit around the fire telling dirty jokes and comparing stories. And Gay Boyfriend has stopped saying things like, "What will the neighbors think of all these bikes out in the street?" Because frankly? We're all just human beings who love to laugh and have fun. And I can't wait. It's been a hard summer for me in several ways and I've been looking forward to moving on. And when I texted Gay Boyfriend last week and asked him if I could have a party he said, "I've been waiting. Go for it! I've missed you." Which means he's noticed how inside my head I've been and he's glad I'm crawling back out.

Me too.