Tuesday, June 29, 2010

We are cheerleaders!







Not sure I'm going to make it through 2 more days of this. We have a total of 147 rooms in our hotel. High school cheerleaders are taking up 100 of them. There are 4 girls to a room. You do the math. Complaint after complaint. These girls are loud, disrespectful and annoying. With that said I was a teenage girl once, a loud teenage girl so I understand to a point. I think I have always had something against cheerleaders. It's like the only group I automatically judge. I had friends that were cheerleaders but I was on dance company and so there was a little head butting. There comments crack me up. Here are a couple of them:
"How do you make the water go from the faucet to come out of the shower head?"
When entering the elevator from our top floor She asks, "Going up or down?"

The hallways reek of hairspray and they have plastered their names on their doors because they can't seem to remember their room numbers, some even have pictures because they don't know how to spell their names.

Okay, I'm being a little harsh but imagine running the front desk of the hotel these girls are staying at. Tumbling down the hallways at midnight, singing along to songs on their ipod at early hours in the morning. Too much to handle. I'm sorry traveling business men.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Once A Hero


As a baby, I chewed on your socks;
You were my comfort.

As a kid, we walked to school together;
You were my guide.

As a teen, we fought all the time;
You were the typical bully big brother.

After your mission, we bonded and talked about everything;
You were my best friend.

When I left home for college, we talked on the phone and you reassured me I'd be ok.
You were my hero.

When I came out, we cried. You called me an embarrassment.
You are a stranger.




I see that you're scared, I see that you have blinders on.

I'm still the girl you once liked being around. I'm still the sister that adores you.

I'm still me.








Open your heart, show me your arms are still open.

Take away my fear like you used to.

The choke in my throat and the tears in my eyes
never cease to break through when we talk now.
They're not welcome any more.

I am happy. I am a good person.
See that.

Come back to me, big brother.
Don't you see that I need you?
I'll wait forever. My arms are open.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Oh what a night!

Last night Sam and I hung out with a friend we hadn't seen in almost 7 months. We made plans week after week but it always seemed to fall through. I'm so glad it finally happened because we had such a good time.

He brought along a friend of his who we immediately clicked with and found adorable. We hit up O'falafel for dinner (if you haven't been there go today because it's delicious! 2100 south 800 east). We showed him our house, then went and played at the park until his friend got sick and we rushed them to the train station only to have them miss it.



I didn't tell Derek this but I discussed it with Sam a little bit. Derek seemed different. Not in a bad way but a great one. He seemed older, which he was by 7 months. Ü He had matured but still had his silly quirky personality. He made me laugh harder than ever but something had definitely changed.

The four of us had a brief and clouded conversation about overcoming struggles. We were talking about one thing, but at least in my head was thinking of another. We were kind of bantering back and forth.

"Struggles make you stronger, right?"
"They eventually go away..."
"No, you have to work to make them go away."
"Maybe after a couple of years they'll just disappear."
"You'll become a better person because of them."

We all just sort of threw in comments. I think it's a personality type thing. (I'm a J!) Some people I honestly believe can just let things go and never discuss them. On the other hand people like me need to go through the stages of healing. I guess people do it in their own way. I think Derek has been going through these stages and that's why he seemed so matured to me. His struggles had helped him to grow and learn. I love it. I love seeing how he's taken pain and molded himself to be a better, more wise person.

Sam and I have most definitely grown from our struggles and I think we still are. She is such a different person than the 18 year old I met years and years ago. She's more her own person. I love watching people grow and figure themselves out. We might only have one life, so as insignificant as each life may be we might as well have fun and make it our best.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Deciding To Decide

I'm a girl who has trouble making decisions. Big ones, insignificant ones, doesn't matter: I have a hard time. Just 30 seconds ago, for example, I couldn't decide if I wanted to write about something serious and potentially depressing, or something light and uplifting. So, I decided to just decide. Here's what I decided: let your fingers do the work.
The words decide and decision have now lost their meaning to me because I have typed them too much. Seriously, I'm saying them in my head and they mean nothing; I don't even know if they're a real word any more.
Last night, Elise and I hung out with my long-time great friend who is a very attractive, straight young man. As I tucked in my girl to say goodnight before he and I ventured off to the park, she asked me if anything was going to happen with him. I couldn't help but snicker. "Just put me at ease," she said. To me, the thought hadn't even entered my mind. This guy is like a brother to me, and not only that, but I'm crazy in love with the girl asking me this silly question. "Of course not, babe! I'm in love with you, you know that." As he and I walked around the park at night, we discussed his current love life and I couldn't shake the thought of my love worrying I would ever cheat on her. Now, I've learned through tough experience to never say never, but I'm confident I would not ever cheat on Elise. I understand her concern, because I worry the same things when she is alone with certain other people; and it's funny how jealousy works. I trust her, she trusts me, and maybe we even trust the 3rd party. So what is it then, that causes people to cheat? Circumstance, I suppose. A turn of events, the right words, a certain look you never noticed before.
I don't really know what my point was of writing about that. I guess that's what you get for letting your fingers do the talking. Let me end with a happier note that is directed to my other half. No matter how cute or how pretty anyone else is, they're not you. I don't ever want you to worry about me lying to you or cheating, because it's not an option. My happiness meter has bursted out the top ever since we moved into our first little place in Layton. Elise - I loved you first....And last, and everything in between. ALWAYS.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

To the underappreciated

I don't know if you're allowed to make two posts in the same day. I don't know if it makes you uncool, but it's a risk I'm willing to take since I can't get something off my mind.

I dated a guy a while back, we'll call him Chuck. He was one of those guys who didn't speak unless he had something worth saying and if you took your time to really talk to him he could really benefit your life. I say really because he didn't like the artificial bull-shit kind of talk.

"Hey! How are ya?"

"You going to school?"

"Dating anyone?"

"Where are you living?"

It just didn't cut it. No one really cares where you're going to school or who you're dating, or quite frankly how you are. The reason I'm blogging about...Chuck is because I have this haunting memory of us. Before I dive into that, it's important that you know I have never met a person who wrote more than Chuck. He journaled everything. Every thing good and I'm guessing everything bad. One day we were sitting on my couch and he mentioned something about wondering if once he died anyone would know anything about him. Would they know that he lived? Would they know of him and I? Would they know the good things? That day I opened up my journal (it had been a couple months) and began to write of the memories I've had of him.

I don't know how many other people feel underappreciated but Chuck was one of the people I have met in my life that I find most valuble to me as a person. I feel like I have been changed for the better for knowing him and having real conversations with him. Anyone lucky enough to meet someone as special as him let them know because there will come a time when it's too late.

Thank you Chuck.

Just a thought

Can you imagine if we weren't born to have a crush on the opposite sex, date the opposite sex, and marry the opposite sex how different this world would be?
I wonder how many more gay people there would be.
How many people would date both sexes?
Would people be more accepting?
Would you be cooler if you were with the same sex?
Would you be cooler if you were with the opposite sex?
So many questions.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Forget the Labels

"You're the straightest lesbian I've ever met!" This is what people tend to say about me. You'll notice from both Sam and I that we try to avoid the labels, hence the title she gave our blog. This is because we don't necessarily consider ourselves gay, straight, bi or any other title you could think to give us. We're just in love and so labels don't really matter.
To give you a little history of how I got where I am...some call it dependent, I call it young and afraid. I always had a boyfriend in junior high and high school and even into college for a while. There was nothing fake and no pretending in those relationships. I meant everything I said and was fully committed. There was even a strong amount of physical attraction. I wasn't like a lot of gay people who pretended to be straight and were trying to put on a front. It wasn't until I fell in love with Sam that I realized I could actually be with a woman the rest of my life.
As for both Sam and I, we have never been with another girl. It immediately felt so right with Sam. Not in the religious/church sense but with the simple fact that we were so compatible and were really the perfect match. We have our struggles but there isn't a day that goes by that I'm not happy with where Sam and I are. As cheesy as it sounds, she completes me.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Lemons Make Lemonade and...Lesbians?

I thought I should clarify why I chose the title of our blog. In 2008, Elise and I lived in Oregon and met a great lady who happened to be a lesbian. One day she asked Elise if she and I were "lemons." Not knowing what that meant, Elise said no. "You're not...a couple then?" she tried again. Elise bashfully laughed and admitted we were. She said she knew we were "lemons," which in her circle of friends, meant lesbians. They made it up to be able to talk freely of lesbians without saying the L word which seems to make so many uncomfortable. Well, really, it's not the prettiest word.
-Sam

Let Me Introduce Myself

When I was 11, I was obsessed with 'Titanic.' Most girls fell in love with Leo in that movie...not me. I fell for Kate. It makes me laugh now that I'm 23 and can fully realize my crush on the British actress (whom I still adore). I didn't know then that I liked girls, I just knew that I had to paste as many pictures of Leo on my posterboards as I did of Kate, or else people would think I was weird.
All through high school, I dated a few boys, but never had boyfriends. I never felt comfortable with any guy I dated, no matter how cute, nice, religious, or smart they were. I used to cry all the time because I wondered what was wrong with me. Why did I NEVER feel comfortable? My brother told me once it was nothing to worry about, I just hadn't met the one. I knew he was wrong, there was more to it; but I nodded and kept trying to believe he was right.
My junior year I went to hang out with some friends who went to a different high school one night. I hardly ever saw them, but had always wanted to chill with them because they were drama geeks like me, but ten times funnier. Their group that night consisted of two gay boys and a (then) straight girl. I found her to be GORGEOUS. She had fiery red hair and icy gray eyes with smokey eye shadow. Perhaps she reminded me of Kate Winslet. This girl, my junior year, was the first girl I knew I was attracted to. Mind you, I did nothing about that. It was not even an option. This night, we were all watching their recording of a play they were all in and I sat side to side with the red-head. I found myself getting sick to the stomach because I all of the sudden wondered: "What the crap would I do if this girl leaned over and kissed me?" I'm sure she had no intention of doing so, but I wondered it anyway. "Would I actually stop her?" No. "Do I want her to lean over and kiss me?" Yes. "Why am I thinking this?" My brain started producing too many questions with no clear answers and I eventually made up an excuse to go home. I blocked that memory out for a long time.
Graduation meant leaving my 18-year home of Salem, Oregon - for Utah. The thought of that place made me want to cry. I spent the first three months living with my parents, dating odd boys, working a horrible job that made me depressed, and constantly calling friends from home. The time for school arrived, and I lived on my own for the first time EVER. The basement of an old Hispanic lady became my new home, shared with two Japanese exchange students. I stayed in my cold room as often as possible and just cried. I hated Utah.
Then I met Elise. For our ASL Storytelling class, we had to go to a conference in Salt Lake and I had no car. I asked the girl next to me for a ride and she wasn't going, but perhaps Elise, who was on her other side? Elise, at the mention of her name tipped back in her chair and I mimicked. There we sat, on the back two legs of our chairs, smiling without knowing why. She did give me a ride and from that day on, we were inseparable. It took me ten months to tell her I thought I was in love with her, but four days to know she was my soulmate.
Things happened, tears were shed, church leaders were met with, parents were told, more tears were shed. Guilt was my new constant companion. Guilt for loving her, guilt for acting on that love for her, guilt for hurting our families, guilt for hurting Elise by always giving in and then backing out. I was so confused and scared. Words cannot describe how I felt for so long. I hurt a lot of people I never meant to hurt. I was just trying to figure myself out.
Fast forward through a lot of good memories and a lot of painful ones. August of 2009 marked our first apartment together as a fresh-slated, out couple. Every single terrible moment in our almost five years of knowing each other all became worth it. We got past the terrible struggles, hand in hand and have been in the happiest relationship either of us has ever had ever since. I look forward to each new day with this girl, my best friend. My soulmate. I'm grateful to my Heavenly Father for all the lessons I learned to get to this point. We got our happy ending. Well, I guess it's only the beginning...
-Sam