Happy 2 year Blog-avirsary to me.

I have been writing this blog for two years.  It s hard to believe.  I have changed so much and tried to share the things that my life is about.  I will continue as long as I am able, even though at times I feel like I'm only talking to my self. 

Mini-wilson

When I worked at Honeywell about five years ago,  I became friends with a guy named Andrew.  He preferred Andy, but I called him Andrew, Andy or sometimes Drew.  He was young. He was probably about 25. He was thin and tall with red hair and a goatee. He had sexy blue eyes and a great personality.  I admit, I checked him out, but he was obviously straight.    He was attractive, but not my type.  He always had girls from the company trying to date him. He enjoyed the attention. Most women were not shy about acting like a cat in heat around him. It was obvious he liked to flirt back too.  He was in a long term relationship with his high school girlfriend.  They were a couple for many years but parted a few times due to issue in their relations hip.  I worked next to Andy for about a year.  We both worked in receiving and part of our job was to inspect incoming orders of parts and unload trucks.  He and I were a great team.  We enjoyed being friends at work. We both liked to joke and talk while working.  There were many times we were talking and laughing too much.  Our boss would come by and give us a scolding glance.  I think other people would tell on us and the boss was just following up to keep the peace.  Jealousy was a catalyst at Honeywell and lead to many unnecessary petty dramas.  Andy and I would keep our cool. But really I felt like the General Manager of the facility did not like me and always was looking for reasons to get me fired.  He didn’t like how I dressed, and would tell my boss.  He also didn’t like my long hair and felt it was a bad reflection on the company image. Really, I felt he just had a problem with gays.  Our work group always watched out for him and alerted each other when he came around.  He was always watching to see who might be in the internet or texting on their phone at their work station.  We would whisper “here comes the Weasel” if he came around the corner to spy on us.  Andy was the one who came up with that name.  He said he would pop up anywhere like a weasel.  Weasels have been assigned a variety of different cultural meanings. In Greek culture, a weasel around the house is a sign of bad luck, or even evil.   Especially if there I is to be an upcoming wedding.  The weasel (based on its Greek etymology) was thought to be an unhappy bride who was transformed into a weasel and consequently delights in destroying wedding dresses. In more modern meaning, a weasel is some one who can’t be trusted.  And you could not trust the General Manager at Honeywell.  He would always try to get people in trouble. 

Andy and I worked very hard, slinging boxes, counting freight and inspecting paper work.  We also tried to help each other if one got behind. It wasn’t unusual for him to steal my chair and hide it. He enjoyed the confused look on my face as I searched around for it. We were true buddies.  Andy was cool with me being gay, but I never told him about drag.  It was not a big deal to him. We were just good friends, but I don’t think he would have ever come to a show or stepped in to a gay bar.  We did however hang out a few times out side of work. We would go eat or even join other coworkers for a few drinks at happy hour at a near by restaurant.  It was more of a social thing.  Andy is the one who got me calling everyone DUDE, or MAN. It‘s funny how much you pick up from your friends at work. 

Honeywell’s business was on the down hill slide. The company was bought out by another company.  The Weasel had told everyone that it would not happen and jobs would be secure, but he lied.  Never trust a weasel.  Luckily I got out when I did.  Old co-workers were given notice after I left there and they scrabbled to find work. That was a sad situation.   Andy got another job about a month before I, myself, left Honeywell.  I was sad that my friend was leaving the company.  Andy was such a great guy to be around.   On his last day he gave me a golf ball, with a red hand print and face drawn on with permanent makers.  He called it Mini Wilson.  He said “if you think you no friends, you will always have mini-Wilson just like Tom Hanks in the movie Castaway”. Tom Hanks plays an executive who must transform himself physically and emotionally to survive a crash landing on a deserted island. His only friend is a volley ball with a face/hand print on it that he calls Wilson. I left Honeywell and came to work at my current job. I like it here and have been able to advance.  My time at Honeywell only lasted about a year. .  Honestly, I didn’t like Honeywell.  It was not a good work environment.   I was offered a better job and never looked back.  I don’t know what happened to Andy.  I assume he is still working in Fort Worth.  And knowing Andy, he still has girls chasing him. He was a good friend and I still have Mini-Wilson on my desk at work. 

a show and gay Chuch

If you ever want to feel like you don’t belong or every one is judging you, there are two places you can go. One is your local gay bar. The other is your church.  In my case, I was double uncomfortable when I attended a large gay church in Dallas recently. Scott was out of town visiting his family for a few days.  And it turns out my friend Kelly was home alone for the weekend too because her partner, Trish and kids were out of town too.  So I asked Kelly if she wanted to go me to a show that I had in Fort Worth.  I am so used to traveling alone but having a friend help me back stage might be fun. Kelly and I are so cute together; I knew it would be girl talk all evening.  The show started early and I had the chance to see some of my friends in Fort Worth. The last few months have I had been avoiding traveling across the metroplex, because I was involved in Dallas activities. Also I was trying to avoid seeing  an ex I used to date.  I needed time to  to move on. Shortly after, I started seeing Scott. Scott had become my world.  I enjoy spending my time with him.   So the time away from Fort Worth was beneficial.  Being back in Fort Worth was an odd feeling.  I knew most everyone at the show, and some of the “girls” in the show were friendly.  I was excited to wear some to the new dresses I had made.  Especially since my 300 dollar serger died last month and could not be repaired. My serger is sitting in my drag a room and is a useless hunk of spare parts.   I had made new dresses with the used serger that my friends from Colorado gave me. They brought it to me when they came to visit Dallas a few weeks ago.   It works great! It just needs a little lubricating oil, an adjustment and tender loving care, but hey, don’t we all as we get older.  My new dresses were a new style. I wanted some thing unique.  I cut a sewed some new fabrics I purchased recently and produced two show gowns and a cocktail dress.  The cocktail dress was made from two yards of fabric that I found in one of the bins in my drag room. It was colorful and fit like a glove. Over all I was happy to be sewing again. But unfortunately, not everyone agreed with my joy of sewing.  It only takes a few snide comments from jealous queens to make me feel like my gowns are nothing more than crap.  Those people are not my friends, just people I know.  One queen commented about my cocktail dress.  “Isn’t that scraps from another dress?” I quickly remembered how rude people can be.  They hold their tongue rather than give a friendly compliment.  They would rather cut you down. I mean really? What a rude bitch!  I never said anything negative about the drapery fabrics that she uses to make her look like someone’s old sofa. In stead I focus on the lovely jewelry that she wears.  Maybe I’m too nice.  I never cut people down but keep my comments to myself.  I always try to add genuine compliment where I can.  There was also another queen that commented about how she has a black and white print dress like the one I had on. Funny, I had never seen it. . It was never my intention to look like her. Queens always seem to use jealous remarks to knock me down.  It really does hurt.  I’m not made of stone.  Their quips hurt because I work very hard at costuming and design.  I some times feel like a parent who feels the sting when some one insults their children.  Making clothes, especially wearing my creations is very personal to me.  But I tried not to let it show, instead I smiled.  I finished the show and tried to focus on the genuine compliments by friends, instead of the shady comments by acquaintances. 

Kelly and I had a few drinks after the show then I changed and we went to get breakfast at a local pancake house.  I was not about to go in drag and quickly changed into regular clothes and removed my makeup.  

Kelly had also invited me to visit her church in Dallas. She and her family/partner had been attending Cathedral of Hope in Dallas.  It is the largest gay church in Dallas.  I had driven by, but never had been invited or inclined to attend.  The last time I had been in a gay church was back in Wichita Falls.  GW and I had gone a few times.  It was nothing like the mega church in Dallas.  I thought it might be a good experience for me.  I love God and leaned on faith for comfort many times in the last few years.  I consider myself a spiritual person and my relationship with God has been very one on one.  He knows where I am, what I have been through and that I try to be a good person in all aspects of my life.  He listens and guides me on my journey.   I agreed to go with Kelly to Cathedral of Hope on Sunday.  She drove to my house and we rode together. She was dressed in a summer dress and her hair pulled into a sophisticated pony tail and her makeup soft and pretty.  I wore some slacks and a polo shirt.  She assured me that what ever I wore would be fine.  Still I wanted to look appropriate.  I was pressed and ready to go when she showed up. 

We talked in the car as we drove from Irving to Dallas.  I enjoy girl talk with Kelly.  She is always friendly and likes to joke and laugh.  We arrived at the church for the 11am service.   The large building seemed bigger when you looked up from the sidewalk.   I could tell by the people in the parking lot this would be an experience.   Some men dressed in like they were going to work in an office.  Others wore clothes like you would see in the club. Interesting I thought.  Being a gay a church must mean they welcome all people, even those who park their motorcycle on the side walk and wear bandanna or skinny jeans with flip flops.   The looks of the church goers, ranged from fashion show to poor white trash.  I took a deep breath and walked in beside my friend Kelly.  She greeted a few church deacons she knew and made a quick trip to the ladies room.  In fact, I was thinking, Ladies room?  In a gay church?  Heck every bathroom was a ladies room.  They needed a signs that designated “penis” and “vagina” to be more accurate.   The prettiest girls in the church were the girly boys who seemed to flock in the back of the sanctuary.  They just wanted to been seen. It was S&M….stand and model time. 



Kelly and Mattie



Kelly and I found seats on the side of the main aisle.  She knew a few people and said hello.  We were sitting with the hearing impaired.  Kelly knows sign language and the sign interpreter was standing just in front of the row of pews where we were.  We could see the pulpit and got a better view thanks to the big screen mounted high on the wall.  I sat quietly and read thought the Sunday handout. It included the music for the service and a scripture reading that were going to be presented during the service.  It gave me something to focus on while sitting uncomfortably surrounded by strangers.  “All these homos sure are funny looking” I thought to myself. Tall-short, young-old, rich-poor and most obviously the butch-fems.   It wasn’t long until the service began.  It was nice to see such a large group of singers and musicians.  Our section was just near the orchestra pit. It made me wish I still played. After all, I was once very accomplished.  The congregation seemed to know automatically when to stand and to sit.  I was starting to feel out of place.  So I just started flipping through my handout again. Kelly asked” are you ok” The truth was I was very uncomfortable. Did I need this?  So many people there were stand off-ish, and unwelcoming.  I could not understand why anyone would be part of this large scale worship. I whispered, “Honestly?, No,  I don’t’ like it here”  I was ready to leave when they did the welcome and only one person turned to me and shook my hand. The group gay men behind me were to self involved to say hello or even make eye contact.  My mom used to say- Don’t go where you are not welcomed.  Kelly tried to smile as a way of reassuring me to hang in there.  I smiled back.  I made up my mind that was not the place for me.  We sat through the remainder of the service and stayed briefly so that Kelly could say hello to some friends in the fellowship hall.  Why do they call it that, they need to call it the free cookie and coffee area after all that is all it was.  It seems to be that all these people were not real Christians.  Or maybe they are not the kind of Christians that I know.  Christian is how you treat people, live your life and it shows with out even trying.  I know many fine Christian people who never went to church, or felt they need to put on false personas like the people at Cathedral of Hope did.   Sadly there probably are good people there, who get overshadowed by the over the top, attention seeking Christians who just keep  up appearances by attending.   God does not give you extra credits for attendance.    HE knows what is in my heart, what kind of person I am and that I try to live a good life.