Homosexuality

I don’t really believe in it, but that is their cup of tea, pleasure or poison. I don’t particularly like it when they kiss in public, but then again, I don’t like seeing anyone kiss in public. You know what I'm talking about—the eat your lungs kissing. NO body wants to see that people. But seriously I think those kinds of romantic things should be held behind closed doors. I think people should be surprised to find out that someone is gay or straight. Why? Because that information is PRIVATE. Why do so many people care what your orientation is? How is it anybody’s business, hmm? What will people gain or lose from finding these things out? It is different when someone is on the search for a mate, then you can tell people, it doesn’t matter, besides that, the business is yours.

When it comes to marriage…. Well. I don’t know what to think about it yet. I am Christian, and the Bible does say it is wrong (twice) but who am I to condemn? The problem is, when you marry (this goes for atheists as well) the church is blessing you in the sight of God, who not only do some not believe in, but also blaspheme him and speak horrific things about him. Don’t deny. Anyways, if God doesn’t like homosexuality, why do you decide to go in front of God (the preacher is a vessel) and basically force him to accept it? No forgiveness, no nothing. Just “Bless us though we are sinning right now as we marry.” I don’t particularly like that. You are now married in the sight of God, so what does he think? All we have is the Bible to rely on. I'm not saying people of the same sex who really love one another should not be together, but just understand what you are doing and who you are standing in front of to be together.

            I have also noticed that many, many people that are homosexual have been sexually abused, and swore off the opposite sex for that matter. When it comes to lesbians (and some guys), who feel this way, sometimes I think we need to write off the whole male population altogether. It seems they are all testosterone laden pigs, with way to much aggression, who like to fight, rape, abuse, beat, torture (mentally), fornicate, and womanize their way around the world. I understand. I sympathize. They say 1 out of every 4 women is sexually abused by the time they start college, but it seems to me that it is 1 out of every 4 women that isn’t assaulted. That’s enough to make anyone cry and swear off men. You know Snookie—yes Snookie, said it best, “guys don’t know how to treat girls. That is why the lesbian rate is going up.” But I do believe there can be someone out there for you that is of the opposite sex who wont hurt you. Several bad apples usually spoil the whole bunch, but out of 3.4 billion men? There has to be one that will really and truly love you. I believe there is one for me. And no I'm not trying to quote some syrupy love line from a movie or book, I HATE chick flicks and lit. I believe it is really possible to meet your match.

            When it comes to homosexual men, usually they were assaulted by other men, which should make them turn to girls…but they seem to turn into girls, if you understand. But this is from the simple fact that the people that treated them that way—and sometimes it IS women who do that to men—they use them as they would use a girl and I am so terribly sorry. Those sort of things change a person, and not in a good way. I cant think of very much to tell you all that will help, except that the people that did that to you are mentally disturbed, and were probably assaulted themselves, it’s a cycle of violence—please let it stop with you. Therapy helps (of course I promote Christian therapy) and so does writing, working out your anger with physical exercise, and forgiveness. Not for them but to help you, so you will not let the anger consume you, while they sleep peacefully at night. And figuring out that even though something horrible and traumatic happened to you, you are stronger than that, than them, you are still living and breathing, and your life is good (or will get better) After the physical trauma, what’s left is the mental. The ego. Everything is crushed. But like I said, what is left is the mental. You might be thinking, “I was treated like a girl, so I shouldn’t be with a girl, I should be with a man” but that is the wrong frame of thought. It was the person who did this to you that should feel crushed and disgusted with himself, and think negative thoughts. You should be on your way to getting better, and not looking back. Getting stronger. You deserve to have sweet, restful, dreams. You do not have estrogen you have testosterone. It may be low, but it is there, and you need to focus on a way to build that up, build yourself up, and figure out that this is NOT your fault. But you shouldn’t go after someone of the same sex if you are feeling this way. To build your self up you need to be around ones that physically, mentally, and hormonally are attracted to you. Which are women. I believe you have a good match for you out there; you just have to find it.

             When it comes to dress, I appreciate those of you who dress normal, and don’t really shout out to the world what and who you are, but for the others, I have a question, or five. Why do you feel the need to dress as a woman when you’re a man? And vise versa. Why do you get upset when someone calls out that you are a girl dressed as a guy or a guy as a girl? What is the purpose of the outfit? If you are trying to be fashion-forward, and wear those clothes, what is the purpose of the sashaying hips of the men, and the hunched, lurching gait of women? Please let ME know. If you are transgendered and just cant afford a sex change or are pre-op, I completely understand, and all is forgiven! :) I really sympathize with people who feel they were born in the wrong body, and then try to change it. For others, I don’t mind if sometimes you wear something a little feminine or masculine, sometimes, that just looks good on people, its their style. But why do you dress and behave like a woman if you don’t want to be one? Why do you dress and behave as a man if you don’t want to be one? And for that matter, how do lesbians do anything at all? I can understand how men…. interact, but what can you gals do??? Anyway, what is with the clothes and actions if you don’t want to be the opposite sex, but behave like you are? I just might understand if you want to introduce someone that has been traumatized back into the world of the opposite sex, but after that, what? Please explain someone!

            I also don’t believe that people are born gay. I think people grow up and grow into it. You can like pink nail polish and Barbie dolls as a boy, or army action figures, and football as a girl and not be gay; people get older before deciding what orientation they are. I also think that Bisexuals are just confused about what they want, and shouldn't say they are bi, that sounds lazy. You should say that your options are open. And you shouldn't keep up the facade that you are Bi, when you get older it will become clearer, but if you continue to say you are, you just sound childish, someone who can't make up their mind about a whole sex/gender!

***

            It’s up to you to decide how to view this post, just remember it’s my opinion, and I am entitled to it, and you are entitled to do or be whatever you want! :) Please don’t think of me as some fanatical bible-thumper, these were just my thoughts on the subject, and each post will be vastly different from the other. I just wanted to point out everyday things that I’ve noticed over my 19 yrs. Please do comment if you find something interesting, wrong (or inappropriate), or just plain cunfuzzling, but please no vulgar words.

V.M.

Cats (Pets)

            I love cats. Absolutely adore them. Kittens are cute, but naughty. I like older cats, age 3+. I have a cat my self (My kitty boo-boo!!). Her name is Kit-Kat and she is such a precious! She turned 5 in July, and though she’s not staying with me right now, I miss her terribly. She is a sweet heart, and truly lives up to the phrase ‘Scaredy-cat’. I swear, if I didn’t make her wear a bell, I would never hear if something was wrong. Sometimes I barely do. All I hear is the echo of a bell getting softer, and softer to know I have to leave, cause she sure as hell wont let me know! :) And when there is someone around who she/we really don’t like, you cannot hear her, even if you’re standing right next to her! My friend said she’s probably holding the bell between her paws. I’ve had her for about 3 yrs. now. She was a stray. She was very fat too.

Where I was living in Chicago, the administrator of the house, a nun, gave me bags of food to feed the neighborhood cats. I found Macavity on Easter. She appeared at my doorstep. Macavity was a striped tortoiseshell and very cute. I fed her KFC. I especially liked her because she had a flea collar on, and it didn’t seem like she belonged to someone. I was in school at the time, 10^th grade, and everyday afterschool I would see her.

Then one day, we were walking around the corner, and I saw another cat that looked just like her, behind the fence, in our yard. It looked just like her but fat and ugly is what I thought. Macavity started hissing at the cat, and in an attempt to calm her, I tried to push her away from the fence, and she lashed out and scratched me hard. When I went in and told Sis. (The admin) I blamed the fat cat, who stared out calmly like she lived there. After that though, I kept seeing the fat one. Macavity would hiss at her, and I would… throw sticks to get her to go away (though I still fed her at a distance.) She kept coming over and rolling around in dirt next to me. I wouldn’t let her touch me cause she had fleas or lice, and I didn’t want them near me. She was always scratching. When people saw her following me, they told me that she was the neighborhood cat that used to wander around, her name was Halloween, and it fit her. She was a speckled tortoiseshell, with a calico stomach, and a roly-poly something.

One day, after two-weeks with Macavity—she wasn’t allowed to come in, there was a no animal rule—she up and disappeared. I still don’t know where she went, but I hope it was a good place, with nice people. I was still feeding all the other neighborhood cats, but always there was Halloween. She started to grow on me. Then she didn’t come back for a few days, I wondered where she went off. The next day, I was walking around the garden, and there she was running up to me. And she was skinny. What did I need to do to join on her diet plan? She looked about 10lbs lighter. I was at the point of giving her brief quick pats, washing my hands afterwards. I was loudly exclaiming about her weight loss, and my neighbor overheard me. She said, “Girl, you didn’t know that cat was pregnant?!?” My jaw dropped. I was so embarrassed at how I had been treating her. And she kept coming back is what amazed me. She had been pregnant the whole time. I think Macavity might have been her child too, my neighbor told me she had at least three liters roaming around. After that I spent more time with her, then before she left off for the day, I found a loose scrunchie with beads and put it around her neck and saw her off (but not before taking her onto the back porch, feeding her, and brushing her fur).

Then she disappeared completely for two weeks. I was fraught with worry. Later the next day, afterschool, sitting on the back stoop after it had rained hard, there she was, squeezing through the fence. She looked God-awful. Wet fur, snotty nose, gunky eyes, creaky movements, and pitiful mews. She was sick. I quickly ran to Sis. and asked her to do something. She dropped everything, wrapped her in a towel and took her to the vet. She was there for five days, and I couldn’t visit. My mom told me she either had Feline Leukemia, or Pneumonia (said the Doctor and Sis.). Then she asked me what I would do if she died. I cried and she smirked, and told me it was only Pneumonia, and she’d be ok. I told her I hated her and she was wrong for that. She told me I’d get over it and to come downstairs and get the cat. Sis. let her stay in a closet in the basement, with blankets and towels on the floor, with food and water, but the door had to stay closed, since we weren’t allowed animals.

Everyday afterschool, I would come in, and give her, her medicine. She had a shaved patch on her neck where the doctor had administered a shot to help her get better. But I had to give her these nasty pills you know she hated. It was always a struggle, and she was a sneaky thing, spitting it out when I turned my back, or hiding it in her cheek, a very smart cat. After 7 days of medication, she was able to move and roam around the basement. It was big, and she was free to run back to the closet when she got scared or nervous. We (Sis.) got her a collar, toys, and big boxes of food. She revived in perfect health. At that time we were supposed to put her out, but that never happened. My mom told me that God gave me that cat. She was there to relieve my loneliness. That’s why she asked me what I would do if she had died. She wanted to know if I really cared about her. She spent a month down in the basement, in which the other residents had time to get used to her, and understand that even though we weren’t supposed to have animals, that cat wasn’t going anywhere (as ordained by God) By the time that month was over, she moved upstairs into our room, and she was thus named Kit-Kat.

***

I love my cat she is a precious thing. She hasn’t lived with me for months and months *sob* because of the problems my mom and I are going through. She’s in pissy Lynchburg, Va., with a very caring person, who is taking very good care of her. Thank you so much Cindy! While we are stuck in pissy Wash., D.C., but soon, I’ll be with my kitty boo-boo again! :) I want another cat along with Kit-Kat because I love cats so much, but just my luck to get a jealous cat! She hisses and attacks the other cats, then gives me the cold shoulder. But even if I don’t get another cat she is enough for me. Though when it comes to other animals, I really want a snake (albino Indian corn snake), a ferret and maybe a couple of fish. My mom says I just need to own a zoo, because if I had it my way, I would have multiple cats (my friends call me the crazy cat lady with one cat!), a turtle, a lizard, another snake, a white wolf dog (sarlooswolfhond or Siberian husky), two tigers, Siberian (auburn), and Bengal (white), and a parrot—maybe another ferret and a dolphin. I like animals, what can I say? :) Anyways, I’ll probably post more stories about Kit-Kat, but I wanna hear from you! How did you get your animal? What interesting stories do you have? What kind of pets do you want? And any questions you have, feel free to ask! Later I might post about Mya, my first pet—a carnival fish, and Cecelia, the turtle that ran away.

  

Be breezy!

V.M.