Alright, folks there's
been a few complaints about my lack of posting. Guilty as charged.
The Christmas vortex sucked me in and I lost track of my lgbt quest for
understanding. We've been on the road for the last several days and I've
got plenty of material to cover, but right now my stomach is on the brink of
bursting from C12H22O11 toxicity. Nasty, nasty condition. Damn fruitcake.
Why can't just one Christmas party be a vegan abundance of healthful, guilt
free choices? I'm not vegan, but am thinking a few meat and dairy free
weeks sound pretty great. I just need to make it through the New Year
festivities and if the food doesn't kill me, the people certainly will.
I attended
Christmas party #3 of 12 a few weeks ago; this one was a matter of voluntold
attendance as it was for my husband's work. Joy. To. The. World. In
case you don't know, I'm not a fan of parties. Mostly, because of the
people attending. I want to be a people person, but after many failed
attempts I fear the cause is a lost battle. My closest friends feel the
same and also prefer wall skimming versus mingling. We have a way of
finding one another and on this grand, grand occasion I scanned the room for
anti-minglers. I put my toe in the water with a few guests, but quickly learned
they were altogether happy to be there, sipping cheap wine and eating lukewarm
shrimp. I had been watching the clock on the mantel, waiting for the
mandatory 2 hour attendance mark to pass when I felt a pull on my arm.
Ahhhh! Finally! Someone to watch the mantel clock with me!
The woman pulled
me aside with a serious whisper, "I was talking with your husband and you
and I have something in common with our sons." Well, that caught my
interest and I suddenly felt ready to mingle. I looked in her eyes and
could see her concern. She needed to talk and despite the public setting
I was ready to listen. Talking about homosexuality with strangers can
feel intimidating, so I gave her a warm smile and waited for her to continue.
She started, "My son is like your son and has been having a hard time in
the classroom." I felt a little confused and apparently it showed.
She lowered her voice even further and continued, "I think our son also
has ADD." Attention Deficit Disorder? Aw crap, she's talking
about my second grade son.
I was both amused
and disappointed. Attention Deficit Disorder is certainly something I
care about, since my youngest struggles with it daily, but my train of thought
had already headed in the opposite direction. The two do have something
in common: about 1 in 10 people are gay (some say as many as 1 in 20, but I'm
not going to argue the measurability of homosexuality) and about 1 in 10 people
have some form of ADD. These groups of people are also both freethinking human
beings with self-evident rights: all men (and women) are created equal. I
guessed my new friend was not going to be in the mood for this direction of
conversation and my eyes traveled back to the clock on the mantel. Score!
We had hit the mandatory 2 hour attendance mark and I thought, "I'm sorry, miss, but our time is up for today." As if on cue, my husband appeared and
we were quick to make our departure. I exchanged contact information with
the woman, should she want to further discuss that thing our sons have in
common. I left feeling a bit like an ass, which wouldn't be a first, but
all in all the party was worthwhile. No one noticed my donkey ears and
the mantel clock was right on time.
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