Tag: Relationships

Diving Into the Tech

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 6 Comments

Write about your first computer.

I think there has only been one time in my life that I shared a computer with someone. My dad and I had a desktop in our apartment after my parents’ divorced, but it was easy because we were never using it at the same time. Here’s the one thing that was really funny…. I was running late on a paper for English, and I knew I could bang it out easily and be on time for class. So, I ran out of school at like, 11:00 AM and flew home (it seemed).

Then, my dad walked in for lunch and was genuinely surprised to see me not at school. The cool thing was that he saw I was working and just left me to it. He knows me. We’ve met. We only work exactly the same way. The adrenaline of the moment makes us write better. I do not remember a time when either of us finished a sermon before 0200 on Sunday morning. He just said, “are you skipping a day?” I said, “no, I’m late on a paper. I’ll be back by 1:00.” And that was the end of that.

The reason I remember it so clearly is that I was under a lot of pressure. I wasn’t doing well in school except for Microcomputer Applications, English, and Creative Writing (where’s the lie?). Math and science have always eluded me except in seventh grade, when we had a “group project” and I turned all autistic on it, writing down everything the teacher said so that my notes and lab calculations were correct.

He took me aside and said, “I gave you a higher grade than everyone else because it was so obvious that you carried everyone else on your back.” For instance, I would say that Lindsay did marginally better than me in Con Law thanks to me, because she had a transcription of every class. And yet, those are the only two classes in which I was any good (Con Law and Life Science).

I went to the city-wide science fair twice, and I don’t remember who came up with the ideas, me or my dad, but it wasn’t like he did the work for me. I just took his idea and expanded it.

In seventh grade, it had something to do with how dyes are carcinogens. It takes a very, very, very, very long time, but both blue and red are toxic, making grape Kool-Aid one of the worst things you can drink all day, every day (I do it a little bit now that it’s sugar free).

In eighth grade, it was all about car safety, but I don’t remember exactly what it was about…. maybe seatbelts? I don’t know. By then, science was the bane of my existence and my dad helped drag the project out of me. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in doing work. I wasn’t interested as much in the subject, so my mind wasn’t completely taken over with facts…..

It wasn’t grape Kool-Aid. Let’s not get stupid.

It wasn’t until I was in 11th grade that there was even a class called “Microcomputer Applications.” Because I already had techie friends, I figured out that we were networked with the middle school Lindsay attended. So, my first order of business was to “hack into” Lindsay’s user account at her school and leave a letter for her in her home directory. “Hack into” is in quotes because you had to know the person’s Social Security number. Yes, they were that stupid in the 90s. It was all new. This would have been 95-96, and I didn’t even have an e-mail address until the second half of my senior year (I gave up music altogether because I couldn’t graduate with an “Advanced Diploma” without moving my schedule around to accommodate MA and study hall.

Since my dad was at work, I had my own computer for the hour I was supposed to be in study hall, so basically I was the original “WFH.” I’d do homework a little bit at night, but mostly rushed it in study hall so I didn’t have to stay up until past midnight AND do a full load the next day.

The thing about my high school, and many others, is that teachers in your grade do not collaborate at all. They do not give a shit if they’re giving a high school kid six hours of homework a night while also expecting them to function during the day. Even if I started my homework after “Jeopardy!” at 1600 and “Animaniacs” at 1630, that still left me doing homework until midnight because I had to take breaks to eat, spend time with my family, and if I remembered, pee.

I also didn’t really have time for friends until late, because with my parents being divorced, I needed my own spending money. So, in addition to all that studying, I was a receptionist at SuperCuts. Sometimes Meagan (or Meagan and Tony) would come and pick me up from work and we’d go to Starbucks or Chili’s.

Back then, SBUX was new and basically the only bar for high schoolers. My first date ever with Meagan was that she picked me up for school and we went for a coffee run on the way. I am amused at myself in retrospect because I had never heard of a “Frappucino,” and I love being marketed to, so that’s what I wanted.

Meagan said, “are you sure? It’s December.” I didn’t pick up what she was saying because I didn’t know the word “frappe,” either. I’d never been north of the Mason-Dixon line (then), and she’s Canadian, not fluent in French but enough to have had a secret language from her kids until they started school….. why I’d be so happy in a Mexican-American family where Mom speaks English and the kids are all Big Macs and Coca-Cola, Spanish is lame.

Wait, Coca-cola is a bad American example…. Mexicans are Coke addicts and it’s a big damn problem. Fabulous documentary on YouTube. Even “beisball” is a bad example because Mexicans love it, too. Maybe our differences lie in apple pie and apple empanñadas. This paragraph is really making me miss Houston. If you look at the demographics, we don’t have an overwhelmingly Mexican population. I meet people from Central and South America all the time, but I haven’t met any Mexicans (yet).

If I find a pocket, that’s where I’d like to live. I’d get to practice my Spanish, if they needed it they could practice their English, and because I’ve been to Mexico so many times, we have some of the same cultural references…. especially since both Mexicans and I have had kitchen jobs. I’ve never worked in a kitchen in Texas, so I’ve never worked with Mexicans (Portland is so white the best representation is our hip-hop station. Another good reason I got out.). I have never worked in a kitchen where I didn’t have to speak Spanish, or learn words for things in Spanish on the fly because cooking moves fast.

It’s just again, Salvadorans, Hondurans, etc. I think what I’m missing is that the Mexicans I have met have such a strong connection to Texas. Therefore, more cultural references than I have with South America because even though the kitchen is common, our upbringings aren’t.

The worst time I’ve ever felt in the kitchen was because I broke a cultural taboo that I didn’t know was there. I couldn’t tell whether the dishwasher thought I was being a white entitled bitch or truly being horrible to him, but either way he couldn’t and wouldn’t explain what I’d said was wrong. We were practically besties before and never talked again, and because of the language barrier (I’m nowhere near fluent, especially if it’s not “Texican.”), he got pissed about giving me information at all- why I’d hurt him- and I got hurt because even if he opened up to me, I could only understand part of it.

It was a bad situation all the way around, because what I did know is that I said something about his mother. I know I deserved what I got, I just didn’t know that he wouldn’t take it the way an American would. “Yo Mama” jokes have been famous since the 80s. That’s why I think he was genuinely hurt- he had a cultural norm I didn’t.

I tortured myself over that for months, because I couldn’t explain and he didn’t want it. I did the best I could….. a very sincere, loving, “I am so sorry. I didn’t know.” And in fact, I still don’t know what I said that irked him, and it’s years later……… and still painful.

But other people don’t have to forgive you, and that’s okay. It’s on you to let go of guilt and move on. It’s how you get more resilient over time, because people walking away hurts less when you realize that first, you don’t get to decide how hurt someone else might be. You don’t get to decide how much apology is enough. You have to know when progress is being made and when you’re banging your head against the wall. Because getting to the point where you’re banging your heads against a wall means that you’re actually both hitting your heads against the wall and something’s got to give.

If you know what makes you happy inside yourself, your intuition will tell you which relationship you’re getting…. are you getting the one in which progress is being made, or are you getting the one where you’re spending time and energy on a relationship where the other person is “just not that into you.”

Speaking of which, I saw a meme that made me laugh. Someone had set up two books in a bookstore and snapped a picture…….

“God is Not Mad at You” -Joyce Meyer
“He’s Just Not That Into You” -Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo

Aside from the fact that I use the singular they for God, I couldn’t help myself. I needed that laugh. I’ve also loved Joyce Meyer for years, because I don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. Plus, she has the same way of preaching that I do…. a female voice who projects with authority because so many men complain about hearing The Gospels and the sermon in a woman’s voice.

I feel like Joyce Meyer and I are Erik and T’Challah. It’s not that she doesn’t have a point. I’m not trying to take anything away from her audience. I’m only saying that in this case, she’s smart and also The AntiLeslie.

And, to be honest, I’m pretty sure she’s been married to a man for a long time, but she reminds me of “Suze Orman” on SNL…… “it’s ALL. ABOUT. THE. Jackets.”

The reason I don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater is that my dad was more conservative theologically than me, but not Joyce Meyer. His line about this was some dumbass came up to him in the “God Quad” at SMU and said, “I was a Methodist until I got saved.” My dad said, “I was a Baptist until I learned to read.” My dad has never been a Baptist, but Texans don’t let facts get in the way of a good story.

What I also mean is that I grew up listening to all this stuff because my dad didn’t generally use headphones. I got used to the sounds of the men’s voices, Fred Craddock’s in particular because he’s just about one of the most soft-spoken preachers you’ll ever meet…… who can also punch you in the gut emotionally with half a line (he was liberal for the time as well, taking care of the population of Appalachia).

Here’s the highest compliment I can give him, because it will make sense to the people that hate Christianity. He was a Jimmy Carter Christian. The kind that prays for you and then builds you a house…… because that’s how “thoughts and prayers” are supposed to work.

I also learned to love criticism of The Bible, because I was interested in studying it even when I didn’t feel all that moved spiritually.

It’s something I learned from Gordon Atkinson, a Texas preacher who became such an amazing blogger that he left the church to write full time. I think he’s doing books now, but here’s a link to his archive. I don’t normally put hyperlinks in my work so the past can stay past, but these essays run back to 2002.

Because the essays aren’t organized by date, I’ll just have to tell you what I learned from him rather than linking to that entry specifically. I was already in a mood, and I found a minister who was struggling with the same thing I was…. how called he felt, his imposter syndrome…. how sometimes he loses his faith when he’s doing hospital rounds and has to rescue himself, etc. I wasn’t doing a hospital rotation, but it’s something that I knew I would struggle with as well if I went the pastoral route.

Incidentally, the reason I didn’t go into ministry is the same reason I didn’t become a therapist. I can’t manage my own problems. That gives me two disadvantages. The first is that I will be constantly overwhelmed by other people’s problems and continue to not work on my own…… because it’s a monotropic thought process to think of other people first, because you like it. What says avoiding your own emotional work by pretending that other people’s problems are more important than yours?

When you start taking up room in the universe, you realize just how much you’re not getting by not asking for it. This is because once you start working on yourself, you know when you’re kowtowing to someone and afraid to take up room, or whether you’re trying to make progress. When the other person is receptive, that’s truly healthy. When your issues cause anger and frustration in them, that’s when the toxic cycle begins.

It actively says to the one who brings up problems that theirs are unimportant. Only the person who is completely shut down is allowed to need things. That’s because the person who expresses emotional needs and gets ignored tries even harder not to make the other person angry, because the last time they brought up an issue, all hell broke loose.

This cycle can go on for decades, and it doesn’t matter whether it’s with your first family or your partner and kids. Plus, there’s a lot of resentment and anger that boils under the surface when one person lays out their issues, and the other person seems receptive…. but “seeming” and “actually” are two different things.

Here is What I Know For Sure.™ In my relationship with Kathleen, if I brought up a minor problem, like housekeeping, she’d step all over my ass. When Dana started doing things like that, we spiraled out… mostly because at the time I was in it up to my ass and I didn’t have much patience. But what I learned is that when someone starts shutting down, that’s the end whether you like it or not.

Now, I have a lot of patience and if I expressed unhappiness about anything in my relationship with Zac, he wouldn’t just say “we’ll talk about it” and forget. He’d either remember on his own or send me a calendar invite to talk, either an audio/video call or in person.

That’s what I mean about it being the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had. I don’t have a partner who tries to kick the can down the road on hard conversations.

Speaking of hard conversations, I made a mistake because I was typing too fast. I am not Zac’s newest partner, but because I’m not around much, people think I am. We are also not cutesy in front of our friends, we are cutesy when we’re out on the town, which mostly means making people want to throw up in the grocery store.

The conversation was surrounding how, since we aren’t cutesy and aren’t together all that often, how do I fit into your life and what’s your bandwidth? That’s a hard conversation to have, because I was terrified that he’d say he was overwhelmed and we needed to break up because I live so far.

My logic was 100% upside down and backwards. We’re good for life as long as we stay where we are, with which I am completely comfortable. He’s just as dedicated to me as an orange string as I am to him. I need his friendship as much as his romance, at which he is very good.

He might not think so, but what really sticks in my mind as romance is remembering things I say. When I said I liked Bullet Coffee, he got me an immersion blender just because.

Editor’s Note:

In case you’re not familiar, Bullet Coffee is a tablespoon of grass-fed butter, a tablespoon of coconut oil, and very, very hot coffee in the blender. The official recipe is the tablespoons of oil and butter with 80z of coffee. I like Cafe Bustelo best. The reason I like it so much is that it provides all my morning calories and brain food at the same time, so 8oz of coffee is enough to start my day.

He sees when I’m struggling and likes helping out, and I don’t mean monetarily…. although he is sweet about telling me to put whatever I want in the cart at the grocery store and Trader Joe’s because he knows that I’ll want to have food and drinks at his house that I’d buy at mine.

The latest was kidding him about me being fake irritated that he was out of Dr Pepper Zero and he actually stopped by the store on the way home and bought a 12-pack. He had a million other drinks I could have chosen, just nothing sugar free.

Well, that’s not true. He has a Soda Stream and I love putting in a bottle of still water and turning the carbonation up to hell.

I also like soda with hard alcohol, fresh fruit, juice, etc. and it’s so great that it tastes fresh from our water. But juice, I think, is one of the worst things for you on the planet if you’re not drinking the kind sweetened with Splenda. You can ask your doctor if they think Splenda is bad for your child, but what you cannot ignore is that all juice is mostly sugar.

Just like restaurant food is mostly animal fat and butter. You get to choose whether you want that rich a meal, and also if way more fat is worse than way more sugar.

I would also rather eat my daily allowance of calories than drink it. So, that’s why I drink diet soda or the drink mixes you add to water bottles. When I drink alcoholic drinks, I tend to use seltzer as a mixer, and even with non-alcoholic beer, you have to be careful. They’re sometimes less calories than a real beer…. sometimes not.

My current favorite drink mixes are an import from Mexico and it’s only, like 10 bucks for 44 drinks…. take that, SODA. They’re sugar free aguafrescas. Both the lime and the piña colada flavors blow me away, because they’re not really sweet. The lime tastes like the real limonada you’d buy on the street in Enseñada…. and yet, not as good as Sunkist Lime, tbh. The piña colada tastes like real coconut water and a little bit of pineapple. It feels like being in Mexico 16 oz at a time. I have such fond memories.

Plus, other countries have laws around dyes that we do not. What I have noticed is that Mexican drink colors are not loud. Given my 7th grade science project, I believe this is for the best.

And through all of this, you may be wondering why I’m changing topics a lot. It’s that in my entries, I’m a gardener. I don’t pick and choose what’s important to say and what’s not. The plot reveals itself, I cannot predict what it will be because in order for the writing to change, I do. I start at a subject that’s not too deep and dig down until I feel comfortable enough to let go.

And now we’ve arrived at that moment, what I’ve avoided saying for almost a hundred paragraphs now. One of the biggest roots of my trauma, my first case of PTSD, was walking into my room and seeing my precious first computer melted and mangled into my desk. I’m autistic, always have been, and computers are one of my special interests.

Given the way that I use the internet for writing now, you can only imagine how much I lost in terms of text documents….. and I saved everything on hard drives and floppies, but of course I didn’t have any on me. They couldn’t have been, because I had to rush out of the house too quickly to grab anything, because my room/office was already full of smoke.

The bad thing from that time was twofold. The first is that scanners hadn’t been invented yet, nor e-mail (outside of the military), so there were no pictures to save that way. The second is that I didn’t think of my files as important back then. Apparently, I didn’t think pictures were important, either, which happens when it’s the choice between saving memories and black smoke chasing you down the hallway. I did not see anything burn.

The fire started in the attic, so of course I smelled the smoke, but luckily I do not have any trauma of actual flame.

I think that’s why the image of my first computer is burned into my brain. In the moment, I did not have time to take in the horror, and I was all alone. My mom and Lindsay were shopping. My dad was delivering communion to the shut-ins. I called the fire department from my next door neighbor’s house dressed in Snoopy pajamas, black pantyhose, and heels. This is because I was getting ready for my first church dance. I was wearing the nightgown until my hair and makeup were done, so I was also sporting hot curlers.

I got to make up for that missed dance later, and even met someone I really liked… but it was just a sweet crush on both ends because he was a little bit older. It was the type relationship where we realized we would have been good together, but the timing was off.

That was an excellent night because it took me a while to get over being the only one who knew our house was burning down for a while. In fact, my mother drove up to the house surrounded by police, fire, ambulance, the whole bit and thought I was dead.

It was a very good moment when she realized I was standing right there in the neighbor’s yard, still having nothing to change into, but she knew why. She was the one that was going to help me with my hair. The worst part is that it was December and I didn’t have a hoodie. The best part is that it was NE Texas, so it was still 50-55 degrees. Uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

That fire was so memorable that it literally appeared in the Naples paper for 30 years under “On This Day” (Dec. 20th). I believe that’s because it affected the church just as much as it did us.

In those days, less so now, you moved from parsonage to parsonage instead of buying your own house. Because of the housing market and ministers retiring without many assets (nor a place to live), the UMC started giving people living allowances separately from their salaries so they could work their own way up in real estate and have a place to retire.

I am sure that it was difficult for the church in that moment, realizing that they needed to rebuild an entire house. I never got to see it. We rented until we moved to Houston. My friends John and Linda have told me it’s beautiful. I believe it. It was the most majestic house on its street before.

From what I have heard, they just took it down to the studs, because the outside was fine. It relieves me because my favorite thing about the house were the Greek columns out front. It was the best house ever, and looked above a minister’s station in life even before it burned. But we drove old cars. There were no BMWs to match the vibe.

I do believe that it was easier to buy a parsonage that large and beautiful because it was bought in Naples, Texas. In DC, that house would be worth a quarter of a million dollars, especially because of our big front and back yards.

In DC, you’re lucky if your yard is bigger than a postage stamp.

I can say now that living in Galveston and Naples were some of the best years of my life, because I was young enough that things weren’t complicated….. except for being physically weak and mentally strong. The kind of thoughts that you’re hearing stream-of-consciousness now are the same way I processed emotions as a child.

Which is “try to take up the least amount of space possible and maybe no one will notice how weird you really are.” Here’s a for-instance, and it does have to do with computers.

I went on an interview in Portland once where I was going to be a contractor, not a full-time employee. The representative from the agency who got me the contract was trying to give me a “pep talk” before the interview and said, “I think when you walk in, you should announce the problem you have with your eyes because it’s noticeable enough to be distracting and you could make everyone uncomfortable.” When I told Lindsay about this yesterday, she wanted names and numbers.

She was going to sue the pants off this guy until I told her that it wasn’t recent enough, so I don’t remember the name, nor the agency.

Funny enough, I walked in and owned the room. I got the job in 25 minutes. However, the employment agency would not let up on me about my disabilities and “making other people uncomfortable,” so I fired myself and moved on to a better fit at Oregon Health & Science University (OHSU).

We lost our funding for that project, so that’s when I moved to cooking. Dana was having a blast and I couldn’t stand being in an office anymore. I wasn’t the best cook, but I’m not the best office employee, either. In fact, I’m a much worse office employee.

I understand chefs because I’m autistic and they’re direct. I don’t understand bosses and HR-speak, and I don’t mean it like I don’t understand telling an employee to fuck off in the middle of a meeting will probably land me in hot water.

I mean that I don’t understand the things that go on behind closed doors, the way the bosses talk about me, and how I interact with coworkers because they’re trained to bullshit around everything.

I know that a lot of people don’t know what it means to “synergize,” but I don’t understand the difference between overperforming and underperforming because so much of it is calculated on your behavior and attitude whether your bosses/coworkers’ impressions of you are correct.

I understood it better at ExxonMobil and Alert Logic, because ExxonMobil ranked you and you got “grades.” Alert Logic displayed metrics in front of all of us so we knew how we were doing. It was uncomplicated because it was based on numbers and achievement, not (always) nebulous office politics.

At Alert Logic, though, I found my people. Other linux geeks like me. At ExxonMobil, I was stuck with a very large amount of STEM autistic geniuses, and because I’m creative autistic, let’s just say *our quirks didn’t line up.” That’s because not everyone was autistic, but everyone treated me like their personal secretary when I was actually IT support.

Why yes, I have printed out e-mails for people because they wouldn’t read them on the screen. Thanks for asking.

The one time I genuinely offended someone was when I told her what a simple fix it was for her audio problem. I meant it as “no big deal,” she took it as “you’re stupid.” What happened was that she was trying to play something from her iPhone, and she couldn’t get the aux cable to connect. She thought it was an IT problem, so she called us and I responded.

When I got there, the audio was fine. The case was preventing the audio cable from going all the way into the phone. So, I told her that all she had to do was remove the case and she’d be good to go. It embarrassed me in front of everyone when she said, “you didn’t have to say that part so loud….” and looked butt hurt.

I don’t like my job when people think I’m actively trying to make them look stupid. I save all that for when the day is over and I’m blowing off steam.

It was a lot of fun sitting around with my linux homies to set us apart from users, and regale each other over the calls we’d gotten that day.

In those days, we got a lot of calls about floppy disks, and we had to tell them, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Your work is gone. You didn’t save it on a hard drive as well.”

Two reasons for this. The first is that floppies were not that stable to begin with. It’s what happens when you have a tiny drive with magnets in it and only a thin layer of plastic to protect it.

The second is that people discovered that the side of the computer was the same material as the side of a refrigerator, and hard drives worked the same way, except metal surrounding the drive instead of plastic. So, they’d stick the floppy onto the side of their computer and it would erase the floppy so hard you couldn’t even retrieve the file structure, much less “final_final_final_paper.doc.”

If you put the floppy close to the hard drive, then the magnet would interfere with it as well. Remember I worked as the lab supervisor at the largest computer lab on campus, then the next year was promoted to supervising the smaller lab in the Graduate School of Social work all by myself. Therefore, I cannot tell you how many students I’ve had where I felt like I had to stop them from not contemplating suicide over it.

As an aside, USB flash drives are more stable than floppies, but I only think of them as “transport media.” As in, I work on my desktop and transfer files over that I’m taking to someone else. I don’t use it as permanent storage except for on laptops and tablets that have microSD slots.

If I had to sum up my love of Android tablets in two words, it’s “MicroSD slots.” The Ten Commandments stone tablets will have an expansion card slot before the iPhone, and even the newest Samsung phones don’t have them for the same reason. If you need more storage, they’re going to charge you an arm and a leg for it by having the storage soldered onto the motherboard. You can’t get a 32GB phone and add a one terabyte card anymore. Apparently that is now reserved for tablets only.

The best thing is that Android .mp3 players are the same way. My little Sansa Clip can hold a 512 GB card, and what that means is that I can either have every album ever made, or a smaller library in lossless quality….. for instance, copying the .wav file on a CD directly to your SD card is going to take up way more space than even the highest quality .mp3. But on a large expansion card, you can do that.

Because Apple did the same thing with iPods that it does with phones now. No expansion slot. If you wanted more storage, it was more expensive. I think the plan was to go to phones in the first place. The iPods were the equivalent of Microsoft Solitaire and Minesweeper.

Those games were not included with Windows as fun. I mean, they were, but that’s not the point. The games were included so that you’d be interested enough to learn how to use the mouse.

You learned the interface on an iPod Touch that would connect to wi-fi, so that when SIM cards were added, it wouldn’t feel different. Everything that used to be in iPod Touch is on the iPhone now, and again, no actual room for your music collection unless you’re willing to pay premium dollars. Even on the iPhone Mini 12, which I still carry because of its size (the form factor was not popular and they don’t make them anymore), the cost difference depending on disk space was enormous.

Meanwhile, you can add an expansion card to a tablet in two different ways. The first is that it will be formatted in a way that other computers can read, so you can take the card out and plug it into your desktop, etc. The second is that it will format as a virtual hard drive which doesn’t leave that tablet. The difference is that with the card integrated into your tablet, it doesn’t see the difference between one drive and the other, so you can install apps easier, because if you run out of space on your tablet, it will start installing apps to the card flawlessly without you having to move things over manually…. and honestly, only some apps can run disks formatted to be portable storage because they’re integrated into the operating system. I think the last time I did it, I used App2SD or something like that, and it would tell you which apps could be moved and which couldn’t.

Now you can skip the middle man.

I have a 128 GB expansion card on my HD Fire because I don’t have to want to be dependent on my internet connection. I will always download movies from Netflix, Amazon, etc. rather than streaming them because I might start them at home and finish on the train.

Again, wandering off into nowhere because it’s easier than wandering into everywhere pain lives.

Like seeing my very first computer melted into my desk.

Edit an Entry

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 1 Comment

What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?

The reason I’m most scared to edit an entry is that it takes a lot of bravery to be vulnerable with people on this scale. If I sit with a piece, over time I start judging it. I lose courage and back out on publishing. I write very fast and hit “Post.” Then, I don’t own it anymore. I’m not the judge of whether it’s good or not.

Plus, getting into the routine of writing every day means that I don’t dwell over past entries unless I have said something that crosses over from personal to professional (for someone else). My perceptions of their feelings are fair game; their jobs are not. So, I’ll go back and change something if they’ll tell me what I need to alter.

For instance, I had to keep that story tight about Kamala Harris for a month so that by the time I told you my sister had a meeting with her, it had been old news for quite a while.

I think the other reason it’s hard to edit entries is that it would be easier after the fact, but I’ve moved on to a new thing…. because it’s easier than sitting in some of those feelings again.

I don’t ever want to go back and edit anything, because I’m a good editor….. for someone else. I need the same thrashing with a red pen I’d give someone else, but I write too fast and furious to put someone else on a deadline like that.

There is one funny thing from yesterday that I didn’t notice until I reread… “I seem to have two audiences locked up…” and proceeded to only describe one of them.

The other is the people interested in cooking and what goes on in a professional kitchen. It gives me a different writing voice, one I like. It’s more confident than I am, because I’m hearing Anthony Bourdain in my head and not me. I’m definitely borrowing style without trying to imitate him, because all line cooks and chefs sound the same.

I think that I have so many long time readers because people do become invested in my weird little life, one that I adore because I chose it.

I don’t think that I chose wisely a lot of the time over the last 10 years, but I’m hoping the next will be easier having literally edited my life. I’ve been broken in ways I never thought I would be, and I’ve survived. Not always happily, but what didn’t make for a great time did make a good story- good or bad, it’s what happened according to me.

I underestimated how much crying there is in writing, and perhaps this is unique to me in some ways because fiction writers are always crying over someone else’s feelings. When I’m writing, I’m pulling things out of me that I haven’t thought about in years. Not everything is happy.

Not everything is sad, either.

What I can say is that it would be miserable going back and editing everything I’ve said about Supergrover, because editing came at a cost….. but no, it didn’t. That’s because I should have realized a long time ago that she was never going to open up to me and I was wasting a lot of time and energy with hope.

However, there are several good options as to why she’s not talking right now, so I don’t want to be a dick and say we’ll never speak again because I’m sure we won’t. I’ve been sure several times before, and it hasn’t lasted that long. But what I don’t want her, or anyone else, to be able to say is that I was the only one who exhibited toxic behavior. That withholding information was just as bad as giving too much. That we were both hotheaded and angry. That we’re both first children, and not used to being wrong. We’ve got each other’s numbers. For every action, there’s been a reaction. Sometimes it’s mine that’s blown out of proportion. Sometimes it’s hers.

No one won anything here. We both participated, and it became toxic because of a cycle perpetuated by both of us. I want to show that more than anything because I don’t have the want or need to blame her for anything.

Writing is about what I’m going to do. Editing it is dragging up the past. It makes the ghosts rise from their graves, and I’m eager to avoid that part of it. With an editor, they’d be reading my words without having memories attached to them.

So, in order to get me to edit my own work, I’m not exactly sure what it would take. It would be cutting my brain off from my heart…. something that writing stream-of-consciousness never does.

The Point at Which the Dream Changes

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 2 Comments

One of my readers, Susan, really got to me in one of my latest entries. In saying this, I mean that it made me think, not that it wounded me in any way. I turned it over and over in my head, because in order to understand why I’m okay with Zac having multiple relationships and me being unsure about whether I will in turn is not because I am scared of managing multiple relationships in person.

I am AuDHD. When I am with someone, I am truly present and in the moment. What I am not good at is getting back to people and being responsible about the feeding and upkeep of a relationship. But Zac being poly takes the pressure off me because he has a lot of the same thought processes as me. He hasn’t defined “neurodivergent,” but in my case……

As Zac’s roommate would say, “the ’tism is real.”

I do not know that when I am not with that person, I would remember to keep them in the loop. This is something that Zac and I have in common, because we understand each other on a truly deep level. We say “how dare you attack me like this?” a lot.

But the point is that neither Zac nor I feel possessive of each other in a way that would impede on our other relationships, because we’re both the kind of people with no executive function.

But in order to understand how I got here, you’d have to understand a journey that started when I was very, very young.

In my childhood, I was told that someday a man would come and he’d be everything I’d ever want. As it turns out, this was true. Even though we broke up, I wouldn’t trade my relationship with Ryan for anything in the world. We took a break for a while to give each other space, but that lasted all of a few years. Now, the chord that runs between us is major in terms of music and close in terms of geometry.

Our schedules haven’t lined up to see each other, but that hasn’t stopped us from chatting online or on the phone when he’s on his way to work. It’s been a while, but it doesn’t matter. We pick up right where we left off, because we both have such tender feelings about each other when we tap into our memories.

I do think that we were both really going through something and needed the experiences of being with the other people in our lives, especially because now Ryan is a father, his son in on the jokes in which I share. What I do not think for a moment is that I didn’t get that fantasy while it lasted.

At the same time I was dating Ryan, I was dealing with all the problems that my emotional abuser put in my head, because I’m autistic and turning those problems into solutions becomes a full-time job. I drifted from Ryan because even if she didn’t mean to do it, she still opened the door to my sexuality by giving me her college journal. It doesn’t matter whether she just didn’t proof it or whether it was on purpose because the effect was the same.

She became a monotropic thought process because I realized that for as many red flags as this woman had, I was on board.

This is not what I think now, but at the time I realized that I was good at active listening, good at pattern recognition on things she didn’t see, and genuinely made her feel better about herself. Nothing about her opening up to me physically was threatening because my excuse was that for a lot of history, our age difference wouldn’t have mattered a damn.

I did not realize it was emotional abuse until I was 36 years old.

Therefore, one of the reasons my relationship with Ryan was so incredibly perfect is that because we met at summer camp, I was away from this woman long enough to connect with someone else in a major way.

Therefore, I spent a lot of time with Ryan before the emotionally abusive relationship overshadowed everything else. If I use the same murder board as Zac’s friends, where my yellow strings are just as important as my red, I’ve been poly since I was 14 years old.

I never had a relationship after Ryan where I could make someone else my first priority, because even though I wasn’t with this person all the time, the monotropic thought processes didn’t go away in her absence. I have a feeling I’m giving a lot of clarity to a lot of people right now……….

So, when I dated my first girlfriend, she was there in the shadows. I’ve never had a relationship where someone isn’t lurking in the shadows, affecting my thought processes to the point where I’m taking my eye off the ball.

I lost being married to it, because when the emotional abuser went away, what I missed most about her were the years we were separated and writing letters to each other. It did a lot to heal the fact that she wasn’t in love with me, but definitely did want me as a yellow string (when it was convenient).

That’s because when we were only writing letters to each other, I had a secret world, an inner landscape to whom I’ve given very few people access. I don’t judge people by how well we get along in bed, but by how well we get along out of it. That’s why my platonic relationships are so important to me. I do not need the safety and security of a full-time boyfriend because I’m trying to be my own person. However, I do know that there is someone in my corner that I could call in any kind of jam. He might not be able to do anything about it, but he would to the best of his ability; I know that because of how I’ve seen him treat his friends over the last year.

Editor’s Note:

To Zac-

I see you. I take in a lot. They’re confused. We are not.…….. xoxo

Here’s where I also stopped believing in monogamy. So many women advertised it on their dating profiles that when I was looking for a partner, I didn’t know what any of the hell all that meant….. then, as I was doing the reading on polyamory, I started learning about AuDHD. Through the combination of all those subreddits, I could listen to other people’s experiences without replying.

I have found so many people that have been on my same pipeline, which runs thusly:

  • INFJ
  • ADHD
  • Coming out as queer
  • Autism (as a comorbidity)
  • Nonbinary
  • Polyamorous

There is a huge crossover between being queer (either through sexual orientation or gender) and neurodivergent. It’s not a circle, but the Venn Diagram is solid.

There is a huge crossover between being autistic and being INFJ, the personality that’s already a thousand years old when they’re born.

There’s a huge crossover between the number of autistic and queer people who have decided gender is not a thing.

And we all recognize that getting our neurodivergent brain is never going to happen, so we adjust our expectations on what can be expected of us in a relationship.

It hasn’t been my outlook on relationships for my whole life. I was single for five years when I met Zac, single for seven before I actually asked him out, and after a year am finally comfortable with how polyamory works and I’m a fan.

However, I would never have thought about it if I was hurting another relationship to do so. For instance, I wouldn’t have asked Dana to open our relationship because it would have hurt both of us…… we both would have felt like we were losing something with each other, not gaining…….. and when we were with other partners, they didn’t like us at all because we really only talked to each other, like we were the main characters instead of our girlfriends.

Part of this is true, part of it is that for a lot of our relationship, we weren’t in the same city; it was a big deal when she called, which added to our partners’ ire. I don’t blame them. But Dana and I would have been better off as friends from the beginning, because we were great at that. Once we dragged our whole family into it, things began to get messy.

I would have given anything at one point for that relationship to last the rest of my life. Just so many things went wrong so fast that staying monogamous was the least of my worries. I had to get out for my safety, and even if we’d had counseling, when you get hit by someone, you don’t take the chance it happens twice.

I’m never going to be one of those people who likes putting all their eggs in one basket anymore, because what I’ve learned is that it’s better for you to have more than one person to fall on. Your entire world doesn’t walk out the door at once. I still feel this way about Supergrover, because the way I wrote to her was so regimented that it feels like a bit of a loss….. not so much because of her, but because I’m having to reroute a lot of impulses. In some ways, I’ll never give those up,because I see things that remind me of her all the time.

Polyamory is a system adjusted to me, rather than me having to fit into yet another system in which I have to social mask my way through it. It’s easier not to social mask in front of Zac because since we’re both neurodivergent, he’ll always have empathy even if he can’t have sympathy.

He said something to me that meant a lot, which is that our relationship is not “cutesy.” I don’t want that type of relationship because it leads to “acting as if.” I’d rather have emotional bravery and he’s shown me he has it.

So, in short, it’s not that I never wanted a marriage that lasted decades. I could have pictured it with Ryan, Meagan, and Dana. It just didn’t work out that way. I think it ultimately turned out better than I could have imagined. In no world would I have gotten the space to write what I needed to write out of someone jealous, because they simply would have tried to sabotage my writing time because spending time together is obviously the most important thing in my life, and any time away from each other means that I need room to cheat.

That leads to the millions upon millions of partners justifying why it was right to go through someone’s phone. I feel like if you can’t trust your partner to the point where you feel you need to go through their phone, your intuition has already given you an answer…… and doesn’t make you judge, jury, and executioner when you have no moral leg to stand on invading someone’s privacy.

You don’t have to confirm how someone else feels. You have to confirm how you feel in therapy, because you’re not going to change someone else.

I have done too much trying to change people in the past by writing about them, and not because changing people works. People have to want to change from the inside out, and sometimes hearing how I really feel about something puts new light on what their behavior is doing to me, and it creates an understanding that wasn’t there before.

In a relationship, I find it’s more helpful to lead from the back. That if I lay out my insecurities first, you’re more likely to open up to me in return because I’ve made it look not so scary.

Here’s where things get tricky, though. The first is that I make it look easy. In order to lay out my vulnerabilities first, I had to learn how to do that over years. It is not something I learned on the fly, it is something I’ve learned over my whole life.

I’ve always been an observer to human behavior, and I remind myself of Dominick Dunne when he used to write columns for Vanity Fair, covering the trials of the “rich, and the very, very rich.” In some ways, I feel like I’m trying to be Rachel Maddow, weaving my experiences in and out so that my emotional connections and how they come together are as researched as my intelligence special interest turned up an autistic amount.

This is because it’s one thing to get a soundbite from someone, and rare to get an essay, particularly one that goes through an entire range of emotions about one person. Understanding that range of emotion in a person is very important to communication with them, because it gives them more context on me than I will ever have on them.

However, just like with my readers, I have a bubble with them, too. Just like I invite my readers to be vulnerable in the comments, I invite my friends to be vulnerable by opening up to them in person (as well as I can without stumbling over my words because it’s verbal). People tell me things and both love and hate it. I do not stop writing about someone when I’ve said something that they haven’t liked. I’ve stopped writing about them altogether because they’ve proven that they aren’t supportive of me as a writer, because doing that doesn’t look like only being adored. You’ll get your moments, I promise you. But you won’t get all of them, because no one can.

We are divine in our messiness, not in our ability to keep things under control.

All of my thought processes combine to make me “messy,” and honestly one of the things I started wondering when I started exploring poly was whether it was actually fair to be this intense all the time around one person. No one can be my everything because they’ve all burned out under that plan.

But again, I believed the fairy tale. In some ways, I got it.

But there came a point when the dream just changed.

Any of Them, With the Right Person

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 1 Comment

What are your favorite sports to watch and play?

Editor’s Note:

This is another one of those rambling entries because I realized very quickly I don’t know shit about sports. But most of you love my rambling, so I know it’s probably okay. 😉

When I was 17, my crush was the goalie of the women’s soccer team at school. We ended up dating for a few months, and then she moved back to Canada, where she was picked for a college team that could get her to the Olympics. There are at least 10 different reasons why she left soccer after that, and I’m not entirely sure I understand any of them. But that’s not my story. That’s hers, and she’s a great writer so I hope some day she’ll tell it.

Yes, I did write her senior English final paper, but she used to have a blog, so I’ve forgiven her.

Also, I got a C on my own English final paper, so it made me feel good I got an A on hers (extraordinarily put upon, but still….). It’s not that I couldn’t have gotten an A on both. She’s neurotypical. She had the best notes ever. All I had to do was craft everything she’d already written down.

On the other hand, when I “write a paper,” I write them just like blog entries…. except I edit. I remember everything I read, so I am putting together sentences on the fly. My interest in a subject is directly connected to how fast I can craft a sentence on it without having to look anything up, because I’ve already read six books or whatever.

That’s why when the subject matter is interesting to me, the writing is tighter. The reason I try to remember everything I read is that unlike my first girlfriend, I do not have enough executive function to be able to pick and choose what I’m supposed to remember.

I inhale it all.

I think that’s what makes my blog entries interesting. I take in most everything through sight, and then write it down. My first girlfriend being a soccer player gave me a love for watching the game, because even when I didn’t understand the rules, I understood watching movement. It’s a ballet where the main characters are grass and blood.

I also think of dance as a sport, particularly those high school cheerleaders with the complicated routines and defiance of physics. In retrospect, I gained respect for cheerleaders by being in the marching band. We were all physically exerting ourselves at football games, and then the cheerleaders upped the ante with their own competitions in the off-season.

I only remember one cheerleader from my high school, JR, and he was my favorite because he was the only guy. Every cheerleading team needs a guy to help with the throwing and the catching. Plus, JR is straight. I can’t imagine it was a bad gig.

Many, many boys in dance and choir do it for the girls, and we appreciate it as long as they’re not creepy about it. I swear to God a tenor could walk into any choir anywhere and they’d be grateful to have him.

To me, singing is a sport, and I think only other singers would agree with me. If you don’t spend time training your body to get a solo-quality voice out of yourself, you won’t. This is because so much depends on your physical strength. You basically have to be able to inhale down to your feet and control the air so that it doesn’t all come out at once. That takes tremendous pressure on your diaphragm and breath control. You have to tighten down some muscles while keeping others loose. It’s a long process, and I think while not as demanding as soccer or ballet, we all learn the same types of breath control for being able to dance, run, and sing.

Getting winded on the field or the stage is inadvisable.

When I lived in Portland, most of my friends were baseball fans. I’ve always been a baseball fan in terms of going to games, but I won’t watch them on TV like my friends will. Without hot dogs and sodas at the ballpark, it loses a lot (to me). I don’t know that the Os would do well, but I’d love to see them against the Astros eventually. Now that they’ve moved leagues, they don’t come to Washington anymore.

In Portland, most of us rooted for the San Francisco Baseball Giants. I can think of one Mariners fan from my whole time there. Also in Portland, I was much more into football because Dana was. She never gave up her loyalty to WAS, but I love Pete Carroll and she respected that. I also love Russell Wilson.

In terms of basketball, I will watch LeBron James do anything, because he walks the walk. He gives so much charity everywhere he goes that it’s inspiring. And the way Dwayne Wade is raising his trans daughter gives me hope for other families.

Oh, and even before I met my first girlfriend, Ryan played lacrosse. He said something to me that I’ll never forget, because I wanted it to be memorable and it was, apparently. He’d just gotten home from six weeks of lacrosse camp (or maybe it was shorter, but I don’t remember. It was enough to completely change his body.) I told him that I liked his new look a lot, but it made him hug different. It sent the intended message. No matter what you look like, I love you, not your body, because he told me that almost 25 years later.

Again, we were unusual for kids. We were both old AF emotionally, so we treated our parents like in-laws from the beginning, us both calling the other’s “Mom and Dad.” I don’t know how my father felt about it, but a man worth paying attention to was paying attention to her daughter…. and being sweet to both her and Lindsay. This carried a lot of weight, and I knew it because she never treated any of my girlfriends that way. It was blatantly obvious.

But in addition to Ryan being sweet to my mother and sister, Ryan had an older brother I completely adored, because he and Ryan were so funny together. Inside jokes all over the place that I could join once I heard them.

Plus, I’ve always been the oldest and it was funny watching him pull the same stunts on Ryan that I pulled on Lindsay….. both before and after.

The funniest conversation I remember between Ryan and his dad was that Ryan had fallen off his bike, and was bleeding with road rash. His dad took one look at him and said, “geez. Is the bike okay? I learned later that being in a doctor’s house shapes you so much. Those kinds of retorts are par for the course.

And Caitlin once got her butt stitched up on the kitchen counter. That was before my time, but a legendary story. I believe I heard it on the night I went to her house for dinner, and we all came to find out that Cait had been picking the crab claws out of the gumbo all afternoon.

Maybe that’s her root. She likes working in restaurants, too. For Anthony Bourdain, it was oysters fresh off the beach in France.

I remember Cait being athletic, but don’t remember her formal sports. But our whole family likes watching the big games, even though we don’t watch every one. I mean, some of them do. Some of them are die hard Cowboys fans, and when I mentioned that I was a Cowboys fan she said the only way she could respect that was she liked Tom Landry. I told her that my memories of the Cowboys were mostly rooted in the 90s and it was okay to move on.

I’ve always rooted for the teams where I’ve lived except for the Nationals, because I don’t like the curly W on the hats. I do have one t-shirt that doesn’t have it on it, so it’s the only Nationals gear I own. I am much more partial to the Orioles, and when I lived here before, I was already a Giants fan. The Nationals are relatively new because we took a long break from The Senators (to our detriment, I think).

That also means that when I lived in Portland, I became a rabid Timbers fan, and even have a picture of me with their mascot somewhere. I didn’t really live in Houston when The Dynamo was established, and because Houston didn’t have an MLS team when I was in high school. I’ve always been a fan of DC United.

Everywhere my friends go that’s overseas, I ask them for a national jersey if they want to know what I want. I know there’s plenty of cheap knock-offs, so it’s not paying DC United prices.

Zac doesn’t follow sports at all, but he’s told me that he’d go to a minor league game if I wanted because he likes it better than MLB. So, we might do it, we might not because it’s a road trip to Hagersville to see the Southern Maryland Blue Crabs.

The first time I went, I saw them play The Sugar Land Skeeters, and I was just as excited to meet them as I was The Crabs. That’s the thing about minor league baseball. You can get into deep conversations with the players because they have more time to talk after the game and they’re trying to get their adrenaline to come down.

The reason I wanted a deep conversation is that I really wanted to know how Caleb was doing. He lives in Louisiana and commutes for The Skeeters, so they were in Maryland during the height of Hurricane Harvey and he’d already been through Katrina. Because I knew what was going on in Houston/Sugar Land, I wasn’t just talking to him; I was asking questions about his experience from the other side.

My sister was running the relief effort at the George R. Brown Convention Center. He said that because of the touring schedule, he hadn’t even had time to check it out- grateful he wasn’t there and desperate to see if his house and truck still were.

I wished him well, but what even he doesn’t know is that I got a fabulous picture of him right before he hit the ball out of the park, and I took a million to get that one shot from the time the ball was in the pitcher’s mitt. The ball is several inches in front of the bat and he’s in perfect form…. and even if he wasn’t, he still got a home run. I wouldn’t have known the difference.

I think one of the things I really like about Supergrover is that she’s successful at her job (I think) because she played so many team sports as a child/teen. She already had experience with collaboration and not lording it over people. Delegation when you’re the boss is key, because you cannot micromanage the work, you have to hire the right people- the ones that are self-starters and persnickety about details on their own. It’s not on your plate and doesn’t have to be because there’s a special bond between coworkers who are invested and those who aren’t, as in, how fast productivity goes down when the boss has left the office.

That will always happen in top-down situations because the boss is so exhausting. It’s not fun to be micromanaged, especially by a narcissist.

Narcissism leads to very problematic behavior, like blowing up your phone at 3 AM and being mad you’re not awake to serve them. No family thing is important enough not to miss work. Leave your family thing when I need you.

Because in the military and all the intelligence agencies around here, that is true and ironclad no matter how your boss communicates, which is why there has to be a lot of support from your family to do those jobs. There are going to be missed birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays whether anyone likes it or not. The chessboard is at stake, the one thing that really is more important than being with your family and you can’t argue with it in any place, at any time.

Support to all those people is doing enough work on yourself to be a complete person when they’re gone. For some people, that means moving back in with their parents when their spouse is deployed so that they still have a support system. Others rely on chosen family because they live on base, either here or overseas.

According to Jonna Mendez, you have a choice as to whether you tell your family that you’re CIA or not. That’s because you don’t know if your family/friends are going to find it easier to help you live your cover, or whether they’ll blow it. One thing that Jonna talked about in the event for “The Moscow Rules” is that she didn’t tell her best friend she was CIA for 35 years… and that’s because she told her dad and her dad was impressed, so he told all his friends….. the ones who had seen her face, already knew who she was, etc. The more people that can attach those things, the more “in trouble” you feel.

However, with the military and intelligence, you just have to accept that some things are above your pay grade and you can only know so much. Like, “I can call you on a sat phone, but I can’t tell you where I am.” It’s not that the soldier/case officer doesn’t want to help you understand, it’s that they can’t because it would reveal troop movements if the sat phone was hacked.

I do not think that we are preparing for war ourselves. I think that those secrets are being kept so that no one knows who’s watching and where.

I can connect all of this to “Argo,” because there’s an “Argo” illustration for every occasion. To have people know what your face looks like reminds me of that scene where the “face book” has been ripped to shreds, and they get at least 20 people to sit there and line up the strips so they can see the pictures again, trying to stop the houseguests from getting out of Iran. This is because the diplomats didn’t have enough time to burn all the classifieds before the Iranis rushed in.

Let me say for the record that I do not have a dog in this race. Both the Americans and the Iranis have done horrible things to each other. I can understand Iran’s frustration at us getting the Shah out before they could prosecute him. I understand that it put the United States at a distinct disadvantage because we cut off diplomatic relations, closing the embassy altogether at that point.

I believe that’s why people like Tony and Jonna are every bit as effective as sending “a fully armed battalion to remind them of our love.” That’s because we can prevent a lot of boots on the ground with the right intelligence, because then we can go after someone diplomatically/politically instead of starting a war.

It is so disheartening to have a president who’s blind to the plight of Palestine. It is so complex we need to withdraw support from both sides immediately. It’s not our fight. That’s one that’s been going on for too long for us to rescue anyone. The president needs to realize that in their case, the call is coming from inside the house. We can’t police this one. It will work out every bit as well as Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, and any other conflict we’ve entered where there hasn’t been a thousand years of fighting over that land.

I also don’t know what Biden’s faith is telling him about Israel, and that’s bothersome as well. It is a damn problem, because all the Abramic branches are at war with themselves over this. Christians and Jews want to protect their holy places, and don’t understand that all Muslim holy places are in the same vicinity.

I am not sure that is the message Christianity and Judaism want to spread…. that Muslim lives are worth less.

Because that’s what they’re doing…. like it’s a sport.

The Lottery (Without the Horror)

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 3 Comments

What would you do if you won the lottery?

I’m 46, so I’m not sure I could do much with my lottery money if I won it right this moment. I’d probably put it away for my elder years. However, it truly depends on how much I won. So, just for this entry (because saving it is boring), let’s say that I’m already independently wealthy and it doesn’t matter whether I win this money or not. Therefore, whatever I do with it is up to me. I don’t know how much I’d win, I’ll just tell you what I’d do and you can decide how much it was in retrospect. Because that’s what I’m going to do.

The first $15 million goes to Supergrover, because we’ve had this plan since 2013. That day, she was joking about what would happen if she won the lottery. I said, “will you do me a favor?” She said, “sure. What is it?” I said, “find the most conservative school you can find. Oral Roberts, whatever. Donate the money for a whole ass building, so that every kid in that school has to walk through ‘Lanagan Hall.’ Then, 10 years later, tell them I’m gay.” Actually, this is an open-ended source of money, because if Lanagan Hall is going to cost $20 million? STILL WORTH IT.

I got the idea from James Beard. He was “uninvited” from Reed College for being gay, so when he died he left them a lot of “fuck you” money. It stuck with me. I think you can watch the doc if you have PBS Passport, because it’s one of the old “American Masters” episodes.

If Zac, Supergrover, and Bryn still have mortgages, those are gone, as well as my parents’ and sisters.’ If any of them have student loans, those are gone as well (but I don’t think they do). I would go back to school full-time and I have no idea when I would leave. If I got the hang of it, I might want to stay for a Master’s and a Doctorate.

Most of the reason I was bad at school is that I didn’t have enough time to work, study, and go to class. The lottery would really help out with that, because all my living expenses would be covered without getting me in debt during retirement.

My thing about getting a Master’s and a PhD is that it has to be something I really enjoy. Obviously, the current job market does not care if you have a Master’s or a PhD given the salaries I’ve seen listed for both. What I have learned over time is that managers really don’t care if you have a degree in your field. They care that you made it through something. For instance, even if my Master’s was theology, I could still apply in IT because of my work experience plus education. I could still apply for lower-level jobs, and honestly, I think I would like that more.

I have never wanted to be the manager of anything, the reason I don’t want to be a chef (people think all line cooks are chefs. Incorrect. Chef is “boss,” like “el jefe” in Spanish.). I would like to invest in food, though. I’m really interested in Athletic beer (non-alcoholic), and David Chang is one of their investors as well, so I know I’m not the only one with a palate for it that I trust.

I’d make a donation to the culinary CIA in honor of Anthony Bourdain. Not much, just enough to say I did it. Something that wouldn’t mean anything to Anthony because he’s already gone, but would mean the world to me.

I would buy back HSPVA. #iykyk

I would like to buy property in this area, but I am confused as to where I want to live. This is because I could buy land and build a house, or I could buy a condo/apartment and both of those sound glorious on different days.

(Just not in the Watergate…. it’s literally falling apart.)

Honestly, I think I would get more bang for my buck if I moved to Baltimore for a downtown condo, but I doubt many of my friends would come visit me…. oh, wait…. yes they would. Every time they needed a place to crash in Baltimore…. and I really wish I was there today because I’m a Ravens fan (who doesn’t want Edgar Allen Poe to win the Superbowl?). I can’t remember where the game is being played, but it would be fun to be at Camden Yards, anyway. So many bars and restaurants where Ravens fans would be obnoxious…. like me.

I don’t really get caught up in sports, only the excitement of the other fans. For instance, I do not like very many sports, but if it’s someone’s special interest, I’ll learn all about it just through listening to them and retaining what they say. It pays off. I still owe someone a beer because I got one at trivia off her. Her special interest was golf, and because of her, I knew Jordan Spieth won the Master’s tournament in 2015. My ex-wife’s special interest was The Commanders, so I know more about WAS than I do about any other team, despite being a Maryland fan now.

The other thing is that if you retain what other people say about sports, you can look really impressive with your analysis while also not knowing shit from Shinola.™ Although, today I did recognize the name “Jim Harbaugh,” so I’m making progress. 😉

So, it might be fun to live over a Ravens bar, because then I could have noise around me without taking it in, plus be within walking distance of everything I’d actually want to see in Baltimore…. plus, their public transit is as good as ours. The MARC train even connects to Silver Spring station, so BWI is probably 30 minutes and West Baltimore another 30 after that. It’s handy to take the MARC to BWI when you’re flying Southwest, but it doesn’t run as often as The Metro runs to DCA and IAD (Dulles is now on the Silver Line, DCA has always been Yellow/Blue for visitors).

And now we’ve arrived at what I’d do if I won the lottery in terms of securing my own future. I really believe in my app, but I don’t do development. If I won the lottery, I could be my own venture capitalist. With the right government contracts, it would be a hit in Washington and possibly as famous as Uber if it works in more cities than just DC. I would want to start small, basically a “Pied Piper” sort of office, because I don’t want to spend all the money at once…. besides, with an app, less is more. I don’t want too many chefs, not enough line cooks. It’s my vision.

If nothing else, I am good at planting ideas in people’s heads. Money would just help me do that on a grander scale. So, I’d change everything……

and nothing at all.

Love, Zac, and Robots

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 7 Comments

I’ve written about this before, but one of my best dates with Zac was when he’d just gotten a fiction prompt on robots, and we bounced ideas off each other as we were going through the grocery store. I was very emotional when he came up with a great line, because it was then that I knew I wanted to be with him for as long as he’d have me, because my love for him is limitless. There’s nothing he could do that would scare me away, and the fact that he’s poly doesn’t scare me, either, because all of our relationships with him are completely unique and separate.

I’m also not trying to scare him by saying that my love for him is limitless, because my platonic relationships run just as deep. I wouldn’t feel less love for him if he decided we were better friends than partners, or I did. You have partners that you’re romantic with, and partners that you’re not. One of Zac’s friends has a literal murder board because their red and yellow (romantic and platonic) strings are just as important to them. Emotional intimacy is important, and sometimes more important than sex. Think of all the straight women with kids who move in together so that their kids still have two parents to handle them.

To me, that is polyamory because you’re not showing your boyfriend any less attention than the co-parent (I’m assuming these women still date). Once you get to a relationship where you’re living together and taking care of a household and raising kids, wouldn’t it be harder to break up all that to move in with someone else the kids don’t know? Does it make it any less of a serious relationship when you’re not having sex?

What I have learned over the last year is that Zac is my orange string. I want him in my life to whatever level he’ll accept, and right now, everything is working out perfectly for us because I am obsessed with writing to the point where I go off the grid. Zac is so busy that he doesn’t get freaked out when I don’t reply right away, wouldn’t wander around worrying that I’m dating someone else (if I was dating anyone else, he’d be thrilled and not threatened). He’s bisexual. He doesn’t want anything but the tea.

That being said, I love our orange string and I don’t know how much I want my own time to be divided. It is not that I feel this Protestant urge to be monogamous and I’m hoping from Zac that this will turn into something more….. a something more that cannot be there. All of his relationships are secure, so that would be pointless and something a traditional woman would do. I am anything but that.

A traditional woman would be trying to weed out all the other partners so that they got more time than everyone else, hoping to eventually change Zac into something he’s not. They’d be jumping up and down to show why they “deserve the rose.” I see it all the time.

What I also see is men who have attractions to other women and instead of cheating, will ask their wives to open the relationship. The wife agrees, and one of two things happens.

The first is regret. Sometimes on both sides, sometimes on the wife because she agreed to it under duress (the first red flag it’s not going to go well).

Here’s the second. Men get controlling and jealous, wanting to shut the relationship down into monogamy when they realize how much easier it is for women to get multiple dates than men. They stop being confident that they can meet someone else, so instead of working on themselves, they start working on either forcing their wives to break up with their other partners, or trying to sabotage their other relationships so that the partner will realize “they’re the only one left.”

Here’s the third. There are heterosexual couples who are called “unicorn hunters.” The reason they are is that this type relationship blows up the most frequently, and works so incredibly rarely that it’s practically fictional.

Generally, both women are bi, so they want a female partner because it works out for both of them….. but they don’t treat their “unicorn” as a real person. They’re just there for the pleasure of a couple, because their hierarchy is so entrenched. If the couple has children, the “unicorn” quickly feels like the maid and the nanny……… because in reality, that serves the couple perfectly. Use the unicorn and emotionally abuse them. Treat them like an employee, but don’t pay them.

But that’s not the only dynamic. If the unicorn is dating both of them, the couple divides because they start fighting about time and it gets nasty quickly…… that’s because the unicorn is either not dating or “not allowed to date.” Why would they be allowed to take time off and be their own person when they need them to be chief cook and bottle washer?

The other thing that happens frequently is that couples try to find younger women and the husband abuses both women. That’s because the wife sees the power imbalance early and the younger woman doesn’t, because she doesn’t have enough life experience for that. So, one woman is too afraid to rock the boat and the young woman is too naive to leave. Eventually, they band together. But that takes time.

In absolutely all of the reading I’ve done on polyamory, there are two things that make a difference in how successful your relationships are in the future.

The first is not being in a relationship at all when you start thinking about polyamory, and not getting into a relationship hierarchy at all. You have the ability to see that all of your relationships have this dynamic and no one is mourning something they’ve lost while also trying to integrate new partners into their lives.

Failing that, you have to find a poly-friendly therapist and work out all your issues before you just decide to casually say “I think we should open our relationship,” especially when you find out that the reason one partner wants poly is covering their ass because they’ve been cheating for months. It happens more often than you think, and it’s devastating. Better to break up immediately because you will not get over lying and cheating. That’s not poly, that’s lying and cheating.

The best way I’ve ever heard polyamory phrased is that I own Zac like he’s my neighborhood, my favorite place and not my favorite possession.

The reason I’m pouring my heart into him is not so we can be more to each other in terms of time, but more to each other in terms of quality…… because here’s what I see, and I told him this. “You’re about to go on a journey, and I want to be there for all of it.” Plus, I’m getting closer with his other partners, and that feels good, too. It feels like being a part of our weird little family rather than Zac and me cocooning to the rest of the world- what has happened in every one of my monogamous relationships. They’ve been so intense that I didn’t have the time I needed to be present with all of you.

He hasn’t counted up the months as to what I mean by this, so he underestimated by a large margin what I actually meant. I am not directing him in the slightest, I am excited to see what’s going to happen for him.

What I mean by “weird little family” is that like all families, there are issues and jealousies that pop up (over time, not feelings….. all our relationships are separate except for the few times a year we’re all in the same room). I do not know why, but I believe it is because two of us live in Virginia, but people believe his latest partner is the one before me.

Even I thought that until I counted it up.

So, I laid out all my feelings about all of this to Zac, and it was the most healthy conversation I’ve ever had with anyone….. because he’s used to having these conversations all the time. Negotiating boundaries is hard, and we do it well.

He said something that I really needed to hear, to the point that I almost cried. I said something about how our relationship is easy because when we have something to work out, it’s a few minute conversation and not making things bigger than they really are by holding everything in.

My beautiful boy looked at me and said, “I think you should take a lot of credit for that, because I don’t think I’m that way all the time. I think you bring it out in me.”

It was the first time in a long time that someone had told me that I was also good at negotiating boundaries, and again, something I really needed to hear.

Then, he cuddled me and I felt safe…. because I’d brought up a problem, and we talked about it until it was quickly over. What made me feel safe is that he never once invalidated my feelings, just called me on my logic and reassured me when my perceptions were off. That he’s in it for the long haul, too.

But again, this is not about a competition. This is about making what we have solid in and of itself. If I’m bringing out something in Zac that he actually likes, then I hope he knows how often he does it for me.

I am afraid that getting lost in this relationship would cost me something else, and I’m not doing that ever again with writing time.

I don’t just have this project going, I’m doing the hard work to learn fiction as well. What I’ve learned from Jonna & Tony Mendez is that there is a world of difference becoming a respected author and being picked for Oprah’s Book Club.

I know I want the first, and I think I want the second, but the stimulation of all that scares me to death. But ultimately, it’s not on me to decide whether I’m well-respected or Oprah’s Book Club-level famous. It’s up to you, my readers.

Because I’m already good at non-fiction, perhaps I should release one of those, first. I feel that when I write about history/intelligence operations, I do it the way Rachel Maddow does…. by combing through the research and putting together the story so that it’s compelling, when you really can’t make research do that.

For instance, count them up. How many hours of research do you think that Brené Brown did on shame and vulnerability before she published her first book? Did her first TED Talk? I met her in either 1999 or 2000, and she was working on it even then. Again….. count them up.

Editor’s Note:

Even though I met Brene a very long time ago, I don’t want you to think we’re best friends or anything. We spent some time together when she was in the Master’s program at the Graduate School of Social Work, so she was a student/TA who I lovingly call “one of my kids,” what I called all the students/TAs in the GSSW because I was the supervisor of their computer lab for a year before I started web development. Meeting her was a million to one, and I didn’t even recognize her name when her books started coming out. I thought, “that looks like one of my kids” when I saw her first TED Talk. So, I contacted her team to make sure our dates lined up, and it was indeed the same person. That being said, she wouldn’t know me from Adam….. but she might….. one day. 😉

Now that I think about it, I probably have enough material for a book on shame and vulnerability right now. You could write it with this year’s entries alone, but it would be better with edited versions of the last 10 years, because this is the decade in which I’ve grown the most.

I really had to look at what I was doing in all of my relationships, and when I hit 45 and realized there were only 20 years left until I was older than my mom, all of my qualms about standing up for myself went out the window. I started vomiting up emotions at an alarming rate, because a lot of it was old information in new context and new information with no context.

I feel that everyone has seen this shift, and thinks that I’m only angry. No, I think I’m experiencing the rage older women get when they realize just how much bullshit is in the world and just how much of it will not be solved while they’re still living.

You realize just how little things matter on a grand scale, that of course you should work for social justice, but you can’t burn yourself out on it at the expense of time with your family and friends. I feel this way about any community event.

I see this all the time in church members because I grew up as a United Methodist preacher’s kid. They come to a Sunday worship, and have a meaningful experience that they’ve never had before. Then, they start coming regularly and pretty quickly get involved with committees up to their eyeballs because this church is the coolest thing they’ve ever seen. But it’s not sustainable, and people burn out after six months to a year.

I keep tabs on my religious friends because of it, because they’re the ones that will tell me it’s been three Sundays and they’re already in charge of something…. most people don’t join committees as fast as they realize that churches are hosting a special event. They get put in charge of that one event and it’s not that hard, so they sign up for a few more.

Then they join a committee without dropping all the special events, and they realize, “oh my God. We’re at church all the time.” People really don’t like to talk about their feelings, so I can only think of a few times in my life when I knew why someone left…. in those cases, it was pretty obvious. Most people just ghost because they wanted something so bad that they started excluding other things that were important to them- and that’s okay.

Churches love Marthas, and they tend to take advantage of them. Don’t forget to be Mary some of the time….. or as I phrased it in a sermon, “Don’t Just Do Something…. Sit There.”

And that’s how I feel about Zac. We have the moments where we don’t just do something, we sit there. We have quiet moments where when a problem comes up, we aren’t reactive. We hold space for each other without getting defensive. We are honest about the important things- vulnerability, honesty, negative feelings on both sides, and really being able to take all that in because either we’re walking and talking (being mobile makes me thoughtful), or we’re lying on a bed/couch where we’re already comfortable.

I don’t choose moments to talk to him based on how important my need is, but when I can sense that we’re both in a relaxed mood. I don’t tiptoe around him because I think he’ll get mad, I actively look for the moments in which he has the bandwidth to hear me. It’s one thing to have a conversation in which you are totally focused on each other, and another when you’re both slammed and overstimulated up to your eyeballs. We’re both neurodivergent, so I know how to look for those things.

I don’t want to trigger a meltdown or a burnout, or to irritate his anxiety that I’m pulling away…. because I’m finally convinced he doesn’t want me to do so. Because his other partners live so much further than me, I think he feels like it’s an imposition on me to make the trip, because he’d think of it as a drag and I think of it as free, unencumbered writing time on the train both ways.

And, just like with Sam, I’ll never have another partner who hates it that I don’t drive. If I need to get somewhere fast or need groceries, I have an Uber account and I know how to use it. If I have the time, I want to be on the train because it is just enough stimulation through movement (I wear Bluetooth cans to keep out the rest) to provide a lot more creativity than normal.

My creativity is knowing that Zac is not a red string or a yellow. He’s both, and as I’ve kidded him before, “I prefer burnt orange.

Our relationship feeds my writing not in being able to write about it, I just understand it better because I write about it. The real reason is bigger than that. We have the same commitment to each other- to be brutally honest all the time (because we’re neurodivergent, so we’re likely to do that, anyway).

I want him in my life because he makes me a better me than I could be on my own, because our friendship is so strong. I have never wanted a relationship that transcends his others, or even impacts them.

But I also know that I deserve the right to take up space, and I learned that Zac appreciates that I can do it without making it hurt…. or at least, trying not to make it hurt. Some truth bombs are just hard, and you can’t go around them, because if you did it would be detrimental to both of you.

I’m also finding out the differences between being with a man and being with a woman, because this is the first serious relationship with a man I’ve ever had- in that it has lasted so long, not that I wasn’t Zac-serious about the other, Matt.

There’s only been the three, and Ryan was 7th-8th grade, so every bit as emotionally intense without the drive of our hormones kicking in- mostly (Hi, our parents!). All of our friendships have been as strong as mine with Zac, it’s only that Zac and I have been together much longer than Matt and I were, and approaching being together longer than Ryan and me.

We were unusual for kids. I was with him for a year and two months, and I will never feel that way about anyone in my life. That’s because our relationship never complicated itself with sex. It was always a good time, and still is. We still want the tea on who each other’s dating, how work is going, all that. Plus, I trust him more than I do anyone else, because we met when I was 13. We both made relationship-ending mistakes, but his was so easy to forgive because at the time, I no longer believed I could love him the way he deserved to be loved (bullshit, bullshit, bullshit- thanks a lot, lesbians. But I’m not bitter. #eyeroll).

What I have learned from my experience with Ryan is that a red string can certainly become yellow, and I knew that was typically true of lesbians. I didn’t know it was true of men as well, but it so is, especially since we’ve both dated women. I think men trust women that have dated women more, in some cases, than straight men and women because of the outside perspective angle. I can take gender roles out of something and explain the dynamic that’s going on in their relationship…. and then whether they realize that’s what I’m doing is on them.

What I find is that men will absolutely take on female roles if they understand what they’re doing to their wives when they don’t. But, they won’t hear it from their wives, and they won’t hear it from their male friends, because they’re all stuck in the same heteronormative bullshit institution.

The best comment I ever got on my marriage article was “I didn’t know the writer was gay until the end.”

That’s kind of because I write, like another reader said, “a 15 year old boy……… and his mother.”

And on that note, I think my love for Zac is clear and why. He shows love every day to his “twinkie bitch boyfriend by sending me pictures of himself dressed for work every day, and at least a few times a week, a picture of Oliver, who is a dog, as well.

I think that’s my favorite nickname now, Twinkie Bitch Boyfriend. Zac is the first person I ever told I thought I was nonbinary, because I knew he would know what I meant, that I never wanted to change anything, I could just see both sides of my brain working at once. It’s not a slam to say I look like a tweaker at a club, he’s honoring what I told him……. that I’m so female, and so not.

I just need a better twinkie bitch boyfriend haircut, which I usually achieve by going to a stylist with either a picture of Matt Smith and asking them if they can make me into The Doctor, or taking a picture of Robert Pattinson and saying, “can you make me a sparkly vampire?”

I love both actors, but Robert’s haircut in Twilight suits me. Speaking of which, I love the Twilight movies because the people who wrote the script were a fuck ton more talented than Stephanie Meyer and also the movies have terrible moments which make them even better popcorn films.

Which I’ll have to watch, since I promised Zac “Slow Horses…” because he’s my orange string.

Well, Right Now It’s Burns Nicht

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Write about a few of your favorite family traditions.

Before I get started about first family traditions, I got invited to a Burns Nicht party at Zac’s in which we all sat around the table and read poetry by Robbie Burns. I said, “is it bad that almost every time I mention Robbie Burns, I accidentally say ‘Robbie Coltrane’ first?” Everyone laughed.

My new retired spook friends came, and I was going to ask them to review my fiction prompt, but it was lost in the merriment. I even found a scotch I liked with peat moss, and I have said for many years that I don’t like it. What I have learned is that I don’t like the peat turned up to the dominant flavor because to me it smells like Band-Aids when they used to come in a tin. Everyone broke up laughing, and one of the spooks said, “and now we know why she’s a writer.” I laughed until I cried.

I announced I was leaving at 11:00 so I didn’t miss the last train, but no one wanted me to leave so I crashed here. As a result, you are getting this from Zac’s room. He’s already left for work and I’m writing in the quiet, as I often do because I have housemates. Now, so does Zac. Sometimes it’s a problem because I get interrupted in the middle of a thought, but not as much as I do with five of them.

So, in this quiet, reflective moment, I’ll go back in time.

The Herdmans were absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world. They lied and stole and smoked cigars (even the girls) and talked dirty and hit little kids and cussed their teachers and took the name of the Lord in vain and set fire to Fred Shoemaker’s old broken-down toolhouse.

Barbara Robinson

This is the first paragraph of “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” which is the thing I remember most about my childhood because during Advent, we read sections from it every night. The story is basically The Herdmans taking over the Christmas pageant and it being memorable because the Herdmans were as poor as Mary and Joseph.

We lit the Advent candles, ate the chocolate out of our Advent calendars, and enjoyed crying with laughter.

SHAZAM! UNTO YOU A CHILD IS BORN!

Dana and I continued the tradition of having devotionals for Advent, but we usually got the books put out by the UCC.

We also cut down our own Christmas tree every year and I put up with it because I loved the smell, but my allergies were miserable. It was a trade-off. One year we skipped it and drew a Christmas tree on our patio door. I ended up making the angel’s halo an Ubuntu logo, because of course I did.

Several times in my life have I done a Solstice Party, both in Oregon and Virginia. This year’s was very memorable because we all wrote something we wanted to let go of and threw it into the fire. Not only was it meaningful, it brought back a memory from my emotional abuser that genuinely made me laugh. My dad always set up a fire for people to do that on Ash Wednesday, and either used them after they were cool or used the ones from the previous year. I don’t remember.

Anyway, she said, “now I feel like I’m walking around with someone else’s problems on my forehead.” Now I know enough to know that my response should have been, “welcome to my world.”

Traditions at her house were huge parties for her birthday and Christmas. We only did Christmas morning together once, and it was great. We woke up to Jule Andrews, had mimosas, and opened gifts. I wish it had happened more, but over time it just didn’t and I have no idea why. Probably because she was telling her partner one thing and me another and had been for many years, so when I showed up in the flesh, she was caught between those two stories, so she invalidated mine by making me look crazier than I was.

Who wouldn’t be rabid about someone who practically raised them from the time they were 12?

Because we both moved to Portland as adults, no one saw us when she was in her twenties and I was in my teens. So, she could use my mental illness against me rather than admit that she had told everyone a different story.

She told me from the moment she moved to Portland that she wanted me to come and live with her- get out of the Bible Belt. I think she was just single and lonely in a new city and needed a friend, because according to her partner, she said that she thought I’d just go away when I was 18.

Those two stories are quite a bit different, eh?

She just didn’t tell me what she told her partner, so from the minute I arrived in Portland, to me I had my “mom” back and her partner must have thought I was some sort of stalker, because she treated me with a suspicion that just didn’t need to be there…… because of course she did. She didn’t know my story, and over time refused to believe it was true….. because by then, the emotional abuse was telling everyone about me “chasing her” so that I looked like I was competing for something when I felt like I’d been inverting the parent/child dynamic our entire relationship. She absolutely used me as her dumping ground and left me in a heap…… and no one saw it.

So, those traditions became less and less because I realized that her actions made her look like such a jackass to me. The spell was broken. Either claim me or let me go, because I don’t have to stand around while you make up everything and I try to be nice about it so you don’t drop me altogether.

She also didn’t like me as she got older, because she didn’t think of herself as “older and often not wiser” anymore. As I grew, she hated it when I called her out on the carpet because no one does that….. but I’ll speak truth to power because I don’t give a damn if you’re a trademark all on your own, you still have the emotional abilities of a human. How you execute that is your communication style, but whether you’re the president of the United States or a migrant worker, you have the same potential emotional range.

I don’t want to talk about how impressive you are, I want to talk about how to be in a relationship with you. How do I love you so that you know it? How do I know when I feel loved? How do I know to walk away when I am not getting my needs met and the other person isn’t taking my needs into consideration and thinking of them as important?

The longer I stayed in that relationship, the longer I knew I’d already stayed too long. It was 23 years, because you don’t lose hope on a parent figure until you realize how toxic it really was. I was so shellshocked that a friend likened it to battered wife syndrome, in a way, and worse because I was so young.

So, when I think of traditions, most of them have to do with the person I miss a lot at times when I’m thinking of good memories and also hate with a burning passion that exceeds even my expectations when I think of the bad. I get angry not only at myself, but at having watched the way she treated other women after I was discarded and seeing them go through the same range of emotions I did….. except they were adults.

They didn’t have the strict power imbalance that I did, but the lovebomb/discard cycle is real and I was only in Portland for 12 years and I watched her go through “best friends” way too much for that.

She tried to do it to me. After several years of discarding me at every chance she got, not even taking my calls, we were at a concert together and she called me her best friend. I stopped contact after that, because the story she was telling herself was all in her head.

In public, she praised herself for helping raise me and ignored me in private. It was a sick, sad world for many years, so I got out.

And that’s where the traditions stopped, because when I left that toxic relationship, I got rid of a lot of them.

I sent a poorly worded e-mail about it to Supergrover, so I want to word it differently here in case she sees it. In the letter, I said something about wanting her to be my first priority because of the hard out and also because her hard out affected my blog more than anything else in my life. She is also successful at everything she does, and really has her shit together. I have no doubt that her bosses think as highly of hers as the glowing reports Zac and I have gotten in the past. I wanted to learn how to be that sort of person from both of them, because Supergrover is neurotypical and Zac is neurodivergent……….

But the way I phrased it was “what could Dana have done for me that you could?” I meant that Dana was going down and I was going with her. I didn’t want that anymore. But it made it sound like our relationships were transactional, when they were anything but. She was rescuing me from an untenable situation because of Dana’s drinking and physical violence. I would not have had the strength to leave unless I’d met someone like that who knew she deserved me, when my self- esteem was so low I couldn’t say the same. I couldn’t believe in my belief in me, but I could believe in hers.

I struggled with those love feelings because of her belief in me. I just needed validation so much when I couldn’t give it to myself. I still struggle with platonic love feelings, because I wished for a healthy relationship that was sustainable and we just can’t seem to get there.

But we did have our own traditions in terms of sending books for Christmas that we thought each other would like……. and she had my number. I miss talking about the little things just as much as I miss talking about the big things.

Just like with Zac, I never wanted more than she could give me in terms of time. I began to hate that she told other people her feelings about me instead of addressing me directly, and not telling me that her boyfriend/husband was reading when she asked me to keep everything tight and “adults don’t have conversations about other adults.” Additionally, she’d tell me she didn’t have time to write for weeks on end, then finally, finally, what was really going on. It was guilt, frustration, whatever. Everything she wasn’t telling me that would have solved the problem immediately if she hadn’t held it in.

We’ve wasted so much time, because what I know for sure is that the closeness we had in the beginning is worth fighting for, but the toxic cycle is not. But in order to resurrect those feelings, I’d have to know what her boundaries were so I didn’t cross them and vice versa.I don’t do well on mind-reading and “gotcha” moments.

Now that? That became a tradition, one in which I’m glad is now over unless Supergrover gets over the anger she doesn’t have. I have more self-worth thanks to her, and I’m tired of trying to pay it back and it not working…… I wish the message every day had been “you’re the most beautiful person I know,” because I don’t think she tells herself often enough.

Our “Sunrise, Sunset.”

This is Going to Take a While

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Name an attraction or town close to home that you still haven’t got around to visiting.

DC metro is much, much smaller than Houston. I cannot express this enough. That’s because even though there’s maybe half the space of the city from whence I came, if you don’t live in The District, you forget it’s there.

In other cities, where I live would not be a suburb. I live 11 miles from The White House, northwest of The District in a suburb called “Silver Spring,” In another city, a neighborhood. The District and The Potomac define the geographic lines of something that doesn’t exist and yet very much does. One of the first things you learn when you move to DC is that people who live in The District are territorial, because they have to be. If you don’t live in the The District, you forget it’s there…….. The reason it’s hard that they’re territorial because they’re unseen is that Marylanders and Virginians can’t vote to do anything to help them. It has very much been an offense to tell someone I’m from DC if they live in The District and I have lived in Maryland and Virginia, Therefore, to a local, I tell people my “suburb,” but on my blog I say “DC” because that’s the city people know.

For instance, I actually did live in Houston, but for some of the time I lived in Sugar Land, an actual suburb. International audiences shouldn’t have to care, but in person I’m more specific. No one from Houston would care if I wasn’t specific and said “Sugar Land,” but people in DC are particular about it. They are a tribe of their own, and you have to fit in. It’s a weird setup.

Most of the population doesn’t live there, and the income disparity is enormous. Gentrification is everywhere, and the heart of the city is being destroyed because our history is African American and again, gentrification. Plus, DC only has a city council and The Senate to govern them. DC residents’ needs shouldn’t have to depend on the Senate, because they get ignored by pork barreling something unacceptable into a bill on a different topic that also contains something for DC residents. It is a whole other world to Virginians.

I think for Marylanders a little less so geographically, but more so politically because being governed by a state looks so different. The Potomac makes DC seem very far away from Virginia, yet Portland, Oregon looks the same- there’s just not the same geographical feel because you’ve changed the name from a district to a state once you’ve crossed the river.

Because DC’s history is African American, historically Virginia was where the white people lived and 5:00 pm became known as “white flight,” and still is in some circles because the federal government is overwhelmingly white. Very, very few people who work in Washington want to have The District as an address. The only person I can think of is Barack Obama (Kalorama Park).

It’s like other government employees found something about DC that they just didn’t like, and couldn’t put their finger on it……… more recently. Historically, it’s always been very clear why white people don’t live in The District. The government employees who bought in Georgetown should have bought up more neighborhoods and made it affordable and invulnerable to creep because we need cheap housing for people on those salaries. We could have insulated it from the beginning, but it’s too late now. What is happening is that the few white people who lived here got rich and then it took about 30 years for gentrification to happen in other neighborhoods, and now it’s insane. Crack houses will still sell for way more than they’re worth because of the land.

In addition to Barack Obama, I also love that having Kamala Harris here feels like having her “home,” because she went to Howard. She thinks of it as one of her hometowns as well, so that love is returned.

Speaking of Howard, that reminds me of a thing I haven’t done yet in DC that I keep putting off. I’ve been to the African American History Museum, but not recently. Chadwick Boseman, also a Howard grad, has his original Black Panther costume there and I haven’t been to see it. I know it will be emotional because so far, Chadwick has been my favorite superhero in both the real and Marvel universes.

I do try to get to museums often, but don’t have the spoons. My favorite is The National Portrait Gallery, followed by Air & Space. Since my sister and I are planning a “staycation” over Galentine’s Day (must remind her we need to go for waffles), we are going there soon. I joked that I would be surprised if she did not bring at least $400 just for space ice cream (it’s been her favorite since childhood). I can’t remember if Lindsay has ever been to A&S on her own, but I know she wasn’t on my trip. She was a toddler and was being shuttled between my grandmothers at the time. 😉

I told her to think of some things she’d never done but wanted to in DC, and she definitely wants to go to the Zoo. I don’t know how many animals we’ll see in February, but I’m down. It’s a great park and I love walking through it when it’s not precipitating. Even in the cold, it’s wonderful because if you’re wearing layers, it’s a workout and you’ll generate enough heat to keep yourself warm.

I also haven’t done Mt. Vernon since I was eight, but I don’t know how much time Lindsay’s got. It takes a while, but it’s one of my favorite tours. I’m not sure Lindsay has been to Ford’s Theater and the house where they brought Lincoln after he was shot. The memory of seeing that gun does me in to this day…. as well as the fact that the blood stains are preserved on the pillow. I went to Ford’s Theater when I was eight, too, and it’s a core memory. So, in a lot of ways I feel like the attractions I’d want to see are around here, just not in DC. For instance, I’ve never gone to the Maryland coast. I’ve been to Annapolis, but that’s on the Chesapeake Bay and a different experience from Ocean City.

I also want to go to Great Falls, Virginia, because I hear there is hiking equivalent to the Columbia River Gorge. I need to walk with Zac and Oliver, who is a dog, before i make that commitment.

If you love being outdoors, this area really is for you. So much great hiking, biking, kayaking, sailing, waterskiing, and actual skiing within a few hours’ road trip. I love the idea of being a biker and no idea what to do with it once I get somewhere. However, I have found that I do love sailing. Lindsay and I have been sailing on the Chesapeake, and I’ve been in Galveston and Corpus as well (not sure about her). The difference between moving here and moving to Oregon is the weather. Having more sun in my life really does make a difference, but there are no less outdoor things to enjoy and it doesn’t irritate my depression.

DC was just a great choice all around, because everything I’ve ever wanted has been here the whole time. I’ve known it since childhood. It’s just that now, the “Local” section of The Post means more…… I mean, after Shane Harris at National Security. Let’s not get stupid.

There Are Five? ;)

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

List five things you do for fun.

You didn’t get an entry yesterday because, and I know this is lame, I forgot to charge my Bluetooth keyboard (I also completely burned out and needed some rest. I’ll still do the prompt at some point so I can do all of the “Bloguary” prompts, but I’ve moved on for now.

I cannot sit at my desk for long periods of time because my desk chair is an antique and it’s so uncomfortable my back starts tweaking almost immediately. Another reason I’m not really a gamer, which leads to the first thing I do for fun. I like video games, both the Fallout and The Elder Scrolls series from Bethesda Game Studios (that means they’re here in Maryland, by the way…..). I’m branching out, though. I have downloaded a few older games because I only have a mid-range PC and I want to turn the graphics up to stupid ultimate settings. Anything that came out between 2015-2020 is perfect, so if you have any recommendations, I’d like to hear them. Right now I’m thinking about playing “Dark Souls Remastered,” but I love Skyrim like I love “The Office.”

This is the first time I’ve owned a copy in 64-bit, too, because “Oldrim” was a 32-bit application and you had to jump through hoops to get it to work on Windows 10. Now, it’s completely stable…. but I keep starting new games because there are so many mods that I want to install that will not load correctly in an already established save file. The most recent I downloaded to try is “Saints and Seducers, Extended Cut.” The Anniversary addition already comes with the Creation Club original mod, this is just basically adding back in “Cutting Room Floor,” which they also did in Skyrim and you can actually download that mod as well.

I spend a lot more time modding Skyrim than I do actually playing it. I just have to be careful with new textures for things like grass, trees, plants, etc. because that’s what really slows down your CPU and GPU…. dense forests that have to keep loading as you walk across them.

It is a known joke in the Skyrim community that the city of Riften is entirely responsible for why we spend thousands of dollars on graphics cards. It’s gorgeous, but even the leaves are animated in Riften, so it’s the most intense city on your computer and when it’s running at full load, you can tell where you are without a map. 😛

The best answer that I’ve found is to install a plugin that helps you take it easy on your VRAM. My graphics card is actually decent when you’re talking about a $200 computer (I think it was a bit more than that, but I think I ordered it on Black Friday). What happens is that you have 512 MB of dedicated VRAM, but your graphics card will share another eight gigs with your processor (no biggie, I have 16 GB of RAM and could upgrade if I felt the need. I don’t. The reason why is that most games now have settings that might not make it the best in the world, but playable if you don’t care about FPS. I don’t, because I can’t tell the difference. The jump from my old PC to my new one is not enough to make a difference, because even though I had an NVIDIA, it wasn’t the latest and greatest.

This leads me to the second thing I do for fun. I think about the computer I would buy if money were no object, because I know how to get the most bang for my buck. A media workstation that I would actually use for recording and editing would have the same graphics power I’d need to play Skyrim the way it was meant to be played. There are so many mods that bring Skyrim into the future as textures keep updating to be richer and more immersive. I’ve watched ESO play Skyrim Anniversary Edition VR, and it blew my mind.

So, if I get bored, I go to Apple or Dell’s web site and see what’s new. My problem with Apple runs thusly. They don’t use Intel chips anymore, so I have reached my limit on the number of things that would run well on Windows (dual booting my machine, because the command prompt on Macs is UNIX as well. Don’t need to waste hard drive space on Ubuntu.). It’s not that Windows wouldn’t work. It would just run on a translation layer from Mx to an Intel codebase rather than on bare metal. I don’t think games would do well on this kind of setup, so actually the last Intel Mac with the fastest processor would be better for my use case scenario. Macs come with decent graphics cards, but they’re the same as mine- AMD, just with more dedicated VRAM and less shared.

However, it wouldn’t be very long before the last Intel Mac became irrelevant in terms of the processor speed, although I could make it last quite a few more years by spending an enormous amount of money on a video card because editing is mostly dependent on VRAM, taking pressure off having the latest and greatest CPU.

What is true of editing video is true of gaming. You’ll get better results with an expensive video card than an expensive CPU. The only thing that’s stopping me from adding an external video card to my PC is that I don’t know how well it would work through USB-C. The reason I’d change form factors entirely for an editing workstation is that I’d like a tower. Graphics cards, the really expensive ones, are impressively large  and draw a lot of power. In a modern workstation/gaming computer, you need at least a thousand watt power supply.

I’d also want the latest and greatest motherboard, because the ones that are current now will last a few more iterations on chips. Therefore, I’d pick out the best AMD I could find, my preference over Intel because I got into them when they were cheap and the products are so good that I’m still dedicated even though the price has gone up. I also want a brand new motherboard desperately because I love all the cool things you can do with them, and they even have graphical interfaces now. It’s insane. I know that a thousand watt power supply may be overkill in some cases, but if I have a tower, I’m also using it as a charging station for nearly everything I own. So, I need a little overkill because I want to be able to hook up things like a PCI card that adds more USB-C ports rather than having the cabling of external. The only hub I’ve ever really loved is my TARDIS, and I don’t have it anymore. Now, it’s out of date because it was USB-2. Therefore, it would be useful for things like a mouse, keyboard, remote, etc., you just wouldn’t want to do data transfer with it.

Ok, here’s my thing with peripherals that have proprietary USB dongles. You suck. I’m going to lose them. I now have a very strict policy that I will not buy anything that depends on a low profile USB piece of crap taking up space on my hub. Therefore, I only need the USB-2 slots my desktop has for the mouse and keyboard. Because most manufacturers know that’s what they’re for, they add something to them so that the drivers load first because you need those the fastest.

My computer absolutely did not come with enough hard drive space, because I knew I could add it cheaper aftermarket, and I already had as much drive space as a could use…………… sort of. I have a 6TB drive that I could use as USB-3, but it would not be fast enough, I don’t think, to run applications like games because of the data transfer rate. However, I bought the wrong cable on Amazon and I need to return it for something else. It will add a drive that can run under its own power, like an SSD. I need something that plugs in so it’s not drawing from my tiny little power supply, supposed to be a feature, not a bug, because it’s environmentally responsible. If I wanted USB-C speed data connections, I’d need a splitter (“SPLITTER!”), because my only USB-C connection is the power supply. I don’t know that the data connection would be faster or not, because I don’t know if the power cord would interfere with it somehow or not. I’ll have to do some research. I know that Raspberry Pis are also powered by USB, so I’ll have to see if they have transfer speed issues as well when they split.

Because I look at computers for fun, I have become obsessed with all the Raspberry Pi form factors, from the 5 all the way down to the Zero because they’re made for tinkering, and that’s been something I do for fun for YEARS.

I started when I was only 19, so I’ve been in the game a while. I’ve done my time, technologically speaking, and now I have a history I can tell for fun on my web site that not most people have, because I was a computer nerd before it was cool and now even computer nerds are interested in people like me because the scene is getting so much younger that they like stories about what it was like working on those old motherboards and operating systems… for instance, here is my favorite story about my mother in life.

Red Hat is free for community users, but if you paid for it at somewhere like Best Buy, you got a license for support. Since Joe and Luke, my mentors in all this weren’t available to the extent I wanted to learn from them, so I needed someone to call when and if I hosed my OS by being an idiot. So, my mom went to Best Buy and bought me a professional copy. It was a Christmas present, and she told the salesman she was looking for a copy of Red Hat for her daughter for Christmas. He said, “wow, that’s a big operating system for a little girl.” My mom said, “She’s 20.”

I needed the professional support because I couldn’t rely on the community. That’s because there used to be a linux hazing ritual, before we cared about getting the general public involved in our shit. If you asked for support, they would tell you that you needed to type “rm -rf /.” The revenge for asking for help is that means “erase everything on my system.” If you fell for it, you were in a world of gut-wrenching pain. So, I used the professionals for about six months, until I knew enough about linux that I could at least read a command string and tell what it did. Now, command strings are my favorite way to work in linux because I type so much faster than I can leaf through menus.

I was lucky enough that I don’t remember who told me about it, but because I already knew it was a hazing ritual “joke,” no one could rattle me like that. But idiot users, unless they were on a server, didn’t generally create user accounts because the server administrator did it for them.

They’re doing everything as root (Administrator in Windows, except even that has confirmation buttons), where when you type a command, the operating system does it instantly. Linux will absolutely let you point a gun at your feet and let you use it.

That’s because most of the time new users didn’t read documentation and didn’t know that once they were root, they had to create a user account that had admin privileges; you had to get them by using a specific command, not every single time you typed something. If you’re using your user account, there are all kinds of file restrictions that will keep you from not overwriting a system file or deleting it- fuck the Recycle Bin. We’re busy.

Modern linux has come a long way, but it’s because we finally got tired of coming across as assholes and wanted to reach out to the public and show people how cool open source software really is.

But let me tell you how the popularity of linux grew in the beginning. IT people, for the most part, spend 100% of the time working out Windows and Mac problems for other people. In the beginning, it was small community started in Finland and it was our space. Not wanting more people to join us was not born out of actively trying to be mean. It was more that it was the one place where we could talk amongst ourselves and not do anything like Microsoft or Apple. And in those days, Macs didn’t run on UNIX, they had a completely different system underneath the hood, just like DOS is completely different from either UNIX or linux (same operating system, a few different commands). No one wanted a UNIX codebase at Apple until Steve Jobs told them they did.

It worked out better for me because with dual-booting a Mac, I gained something instead of lost. That doesn’t take away the fact that since unix/linux was so incredibly different, we were the royalty of our own domains…. and we liked it that way.

I also know that there’s a truthbomb that’s not being acknowledged in our community, and that’s the fact that the unix/linux community became the computer community of STEM savant autistics and so we were demanding and rude even when we weren’t. That’s because neurotypicals were invading our space and that change was as hard to handle as having to help people bridge the gap from Windows to linux so they stopped being frightened of it.

If you actually have the latest and greatest AMD machine and a graphics card that would blow anyone’s mind, you can game on linux just as well as you can on Windows thanks to Steam. There are tweaks on some games, but even I’ve played Skyrim and Oblivion on Steam for Linux, and I was impressed…. but not that impressed because I didn’t have the latest and greatest hardware so my computer struggled managing both the game and the Windows emulator running underneath. That wouldn’t be a problem today.

If you go that route, you won’t save much money, but you’ll save at least $100 if you buy a computer piecemeal so that the price of Windows is not built into the price of the computer. You can start with Ubuntu installed rather than having to go through the kindergarten-fueleed nightmare that is a Windows first-run.

Plus, with the latest and greatest hardware, there won’t be a problem with the CPU power it takes to run applications that were meant to run on multiple operating systems and are naturally heavy because of the dependencies underneath.

It’s a double-edged sword, because doing individual packages for Debian and Red Hat/Fedora/CentOS works so much faster than the translation layer, but it’s easier and faster for the developers if they don’t have to code both. It’s a bug and a feature.

I can’t really put my finger on it, but I prefer flatpaks to snaps. It may be my imagination, but it seems that especially Firefox loads faster….. when the Debian package loaded as fast as it did on Windows and now that original deb file is not even available…. and I’m not sure that you can uninstall it, but I’ve never tried. I just hide it from my favorites and use Chrome (because it still comes in a cough .deb *cough.). If you download the latest binary from Firefox’s web site, then you just have to live with having two copies on your system, die mad about it. It’s why I’m so glad that even though the Waterfox project has merged with Firefox now that it’s 64-bit all on its own, there are still copies of the icon online so that I don’t get the two copies confused.

That’s because I use Chrome when I need to access something I’ve accessed a million times and Firefox is for when I want to be completely safe and secure by turning off all ads and scripts. There’s not a NoScript plugin for Chrome (or at least, I’m not aware). I don’t even install my password manager in Firefox, because I don’t even want it to show up in my extensions list if I want security.

Plus, it’s annoying when you have to set a tab to “Safe” because you’re on a web site where you need to run scripts to make the web site functional, like Facebook. So that’s why I use Chrome, when I’m not doing anything nefarious, it just cuts out all the crap and safety issues like pop-ups. They’re two completely different use case scenarios and why I’m glad HTML has progressed so much.

I remember the days when you had to include redirects in your code because it would look different in Internet Explorer than Netscape so you’d have to detect it first. They had different protocols underneath displaying web sites, so you had to code pages in both that looked the same and behaved differently. It was a right pain in the ass, to be honest.

I so love coding for fun, but WordPress doesn’t let you switch into code mode and add all the HTML/CSS that you want. First, it will break the paragraph “block,” and then it will say it can’t recover from it.

You can absolutely show code on WordPress, you just have to add a “code block” so it knows that you’re trying to show code on a web site, not add coding to the entry itself.

I like the code blocks because it shows off my linux ninja skills, starting with my idealistic Red Hat phase in college. I just realized that absolutely none of my college IT experiences are tied to educating people about computers. I do that because of my jobs in IT all having to do with translating “Geek to English.” What my most precious memories involve is finding autistic friends and not knowing I needed them so badly. Because I didn’t know, I didn’t know to talk to them about it. I just understood them on a deep and spiritual level.

I’ve spent way more nights on the desk when it was quiet shooting the shit about science fiction, so I know for sure that this is a community to which I belong. What I lose in that transaction is being fired, because I don’t want to be “Dooced,” and because of Dooce, companies are very aware when their employees have blogs and they check them, regularly.

Depending on how you spin your company, they will either love you or hate you. The problem is that when I point out problems, I also point out solutions that I think would be helpful and it is not taken by management well. It’s a double-edged sword, because just like my friends, they come for the things that adore them when we’re in new relationship energy, and then when you figure out problems, the top downs stop wanting to do conflict resolution real fast.

“If you treat your employees like kindergartners, they’ll act like it. If you treat your employees like you value their opinion, they’ll act like it.”

However, I have had one boss that saw all the good and the bad on my web site for months before he reached out to me, and that’s why I got the job. He knew I could dish it, and he could take it.

The man who hired me was the CEO of his own company, and I think he wanted me to be his sounding board because he knew I would be kind and not nice because he’d watched me do it.

He showed me absolutely that we were going to make it work because we were Sam Seaborn and Ainsley Hayes.

“Sam is getting his ass kicked by a girl.”

“Ginger, get the popcorn.”

The thing is, we never had a fight over it, ever, in terms of him pulling rank over me. In fact, in my first meeting at that job, where the whole company was gathered, the CEO said “I hired Leslie because she’s an incredible writer and I thought it was only fair that I let her take pot shots at me.” Can you fucking believe that?

I am great at beginning jobs, which is why I wish I was a STEM savant because they keep their jobs for two reasons. The first is that the company literally can’t function without them. The second is that they’re so “rude and demanding” that they’ve gotten everything they’ve asked for int terms of autistic accommodations, because they were the ones that were kind and not nice. I would have an incredible amount of job security if I was someone like Linus Torvalds (Finnish inventor of linux), not so much as someone who failed logic once and got a D when I took it over.

I’ve had the most success on CodeAcademy, because their interface makes it a “Facebook Game,” sort of like Duolingo for Python (or whatever). You get badges of achievement like you do in Steam/Xbox. Aaron, a coder and coworker back then, told me that I was a much better writer because I was dedicated and I had to choose, because it would take years for me to know enough to get a real job. I felt I couldn’t choose coding when the exercises on that web site got too hard, too fast.

It is interesting to note that Dana made it all the way to the end of the first lesson. What Aaron didn’t say is that “Dana has it. You don’t.” But I knew it, and her interest in coding was nonexistent after that. But, if you know her, don’t ever let her bullshit you that she can’t have a good career as a coder if she uses her hyperfocus to learn to speak Python, the language of the web. She’s already completed the first lesson. 😛

I had such high hopes for Dana and me because the reason we moved to Houston was so that Dana could teach, because all you needed was a Bachelor’s degree and a certificate to teach in Texas and you needed a Master’s in Oregon. So, when we first moved there, we were trying to become middle class.

What happened is that she didn’t get into the one program to which she applied, and never tried another one. It was too much rejection after her DUI, and I truly empathize with what it must have been like to be in that much pain with a partner who was incapable of recognizing it at the time. However, I did try, but not until I got overwhelmed and reached out to Dana’s mother. I told her that I was just as sick as Dana, and that I couldn’t handle her all by myself and I needed help.

It was another two-edged sword because in one conversation she said she would help and kissed me on the lips to show that she was dedicated. Then, in another conversation that Dana didn’t hear (she actually didn’t hear either of them. I wanted time with her parents alone), her mother said that she really didn’t know how to raise Dana and that she’d never be the mother that Dana needed and she should find someone else.

I’d never wanted to punch someone in the face before, but that came close because first of all, she wasn’t brave enough to say that to Dana, so she decided to wreck her wife instead. Fuck me running, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to hear, because I know that my mother felt the exact same way on some level.

Neither my mother nor Dana’s had any idea what the hell to do with me, but they tried so hard, and I accepted that effort for all it was worth. It became my widow’s mite. Their contributions to trying to understand my queerness seemed small, but they meant more because they were giving me everything I needed when they were equipped. So, they did understand me better than anyone else except my partner until they realized they were above their pay grade. So, I heard Dana’s mother’s voice and saw my mother in my head, because both of our mothers treated us the same way.

Dana laughed when she came home from college in a backwards baseball cap and her mother said, “ah, my son is home.” Both of us are still cis women, even when we wear hats. She laughed it off, I didn’t.

That’s because I’d had previous conversations with Dana’s ex (we get along well because we’re both IT nerds), so I know that her parents have always taken digs at her partners and it isn’t personal to me. One of the jokes she said to me that I’ll always remember because it blew off all my anger is that I’d told her that “at this rate, I’ll need to win a Pulitzer to be mildly acceptable.” She said, “don’t worry. They’ll find a way to have a problem about that, too.” You cannot imagine how good it felt to have an ally in my own struggle with my in-laws. I know I talked a little about it to Dana’s sister, but not everything because I didn’t want to make her “monkey in the middle.” It was excruciating watching Dana need approval from people who’d never give it.

It’s why I love Supergrover so incredibly deeply. I’ve always confided in her like the mother I didn’t have, in effect, reparenting myself to get everything I didn’t get by watching how a mother loved her own kids and realizing the lessons I would have learned had I had children of my own. It’s easy to talk about issues with a big sister/favorite aunt/whatever type relationship than with your bio mom, I think, because even though you’re getting female advice, it’s not tinted with the want to make you into them.

I have been searching for that mom my whole life, the one that could accept me for my whole self. I have gotten that from myself and the friends around me that are moms, because it’s a different energy. It’s a higher frequency when you can look at yourself as your own parent.

The difference in Dana’s relationship with her parents and mine is that I wouldn’t take any shit, and she would take it up to her eyeballs because that’s what she’s programmed to do. So, we had at least two blowouts because I was tired of not being able to take up any room in that family and watching you crush Dana is unacceptable. It often takes an outsider to see family dysfunction because they’ve been doing it so many years they can’t see it.

I wasn’t as harsh with her mom as I was with her dad, because he was the kind of person who always had to be right, and he would fight you to the death over it by trying to legally trap you. So, when he started bullying me, I started bullying him back. I do not think he expected this, but I’m an adult, and you don’t get to treat me and my wife this way. The one time they stayed with us, I threw them out.

Dana was furious because she was happy continuing the pattern of being devastated and trying to fit in. I needed them to get there, faster. The reason I was so angry is that they ate our food, used our utilities, and still treated us like crap. Sometimes, the only way to get a bully to stop is to call them out on the carpet. They chose their church over their child, and I was tired of watching Dana be tortured by it, because it drove her to do all sorts of things that furthered this toxic relationship between all four of us.

I call out the toxicity, but I was the bad guy because I always am. If Dana wouldn’t protect herself, I’d protect her.

And the thing is, very few times in my life have I been in relationships where I had a relationship with their family that actually seemed like an in-law. Most of the time, their families have been deeply homophobic and dinner was always awkward.

So, what I do for fun is all tied to every one of these paragraphs. I write down my memories the way my AuDHD brain works and go through a million topics because everything feeds everything with no executive function.

Every thought comes with bonus content.

For instance, I’m also a huge reader, but I’ve forgotten to mention it. I’m not currently reading anything because I’m interested in other media right now, working on my own voice. I go through binge/purge phases because if I write while I’m reading, then I tend to pick up the voice of the last writer I just read rather than my own.

The book I’ve really enjoyed the most recently is “Mad Honey” by Jennifer Finney Boylan and Jodi Picoult.

I also sit and talk to the bees when it’s nice outside, because there’s lavender in the backyard.

That’s probably five, wouldn’t you say?

Quiet Spirit -or- One From the Grey Fortress -or- Joy…… and a lot of other things, apparently

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 1 Comment

Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

My name has different meanings all over the UK. In England, it is a unisex name (which I love, because it fits my nonbinary nature). According to Google, the name Leslie means joy…. from Lece, a medieval form of Letitia.

In Scotland, the name derives from a place name in Aberdeenshire, perhaps an anglicisation of an originally Scottish Gaelic leas celynj, in English, “holly-garden.”

In both Irish Gaelic/Celtic, my name means “one who dwells at the grey fortress.” I can only assume that the grey fortress was named after me, not the other way around.

An interesting fact about me is that Leslie is a Scottish plaid and Lanagan is an Irish one, so I could wear two….. technically, except that I am not of the Leslie Clan. My cousin’s family is, though. I always thought it would be funny to be born into that family, because then my name would be “Leslie Leslie.” A kid so nice, they named me twice.

Oh, wait. They’re not my cousins. They’re one of my younger cousin’s cousins from their other side of the family. But I am still Clan Leslie adjacent.

Lanagan isn’t too shabby in Ireland….. we have a family crest and a clan and all that. Where it’s not clear is where we’re actually from. My grandfather thought it was County Meigh-o (sp?), but I talked to another Irish woman who said that most of the Lanagans are in County Wexford. So, I don’t know who is right, because I haven’t done the deep dive into genealogy myself. It’s just not my thing. Perhaps if I took my Adderrall and went into hyperfocus mode I could do that kind of research, but it’s not on the list.

What I do have is a present I got for my dad one year for Christmas. It’s a digital copy of the Lanagan Crest, and the original file size was so huge he could have printed it on a wall with no degradation. 😛 I kept a copy on my Google drive when I got it, and it’s been there for at least 15 years. So, I’ll include it at the end.

And honestly, this is probably the end, because that’s the only thing I know about my name, except where my parents got the idea that it actually meant “quiet spirit,” because that’s the basis on which I was named. Just because they believed it doesn’t mean it’s not true. I just can’t find record of it anywhere.

I do like that my name means “joy.” As a depressed person, it gives me a goal. Live up to my name.

Both of them.

This Was Going to Be Fiction, but ADHD…

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I really need to start making outlines before I write, because gardening leads to great things in blogging and plot holes in fiction. The reason there are no plot holes in my blog is that I don’t care if you find them. Just because I didn’t tell you the whole story according to everyone in the room doesn’t make it less untrue. It is me crafting the narrative without taking anyone else’s feelings into consideration. It sounds harsh and cold, but I don’t mean it that way. The reason I only include my perceptions of people’s feelings rather than what they actually are is because I am not a mind reader.

If they were bloggers, their stories would be up to a hundred percent different from mine because we were watching something from different perspectives.

“What color was the light?”

This is why I don’t care what anyone says about me, either, because they’re just as entitled to their opinions as I am to mine. For instance, I know for sure that Supergrover’s story is completely different from mine because she stopped telling it; she could then easily blame me for being a dictator when I laid out my fears, hopes, and dreams. In fact, she actually said that I was not the only arbiter of our relationship, and that’s the message I’ve been trying to give her for 10 years. She doesn’t have as much power in the relationship because she’s not vulnerable. If she laid out her thoughts and feelings, mine would adjust. Because now I just feel like I’m intruding, I’ll write her a long letter every few months because I can’t be sure God is listening, but I can be sure she is. I’ve been saying that for 10 years as well.

I destroyed that relationship out of my own insecurities because she would not do anything to calm them. She’d waffle between feeling like my Mama Wolverine and wanting out of my life for good within weeks of each other. She has also said that no matter what, we have a past, a present, and a future….. because I’m part of her wild and crazy brain. When she said that, I told her she was part of my wild and crazy soul. It’s true. I’m yin and she’s yang, except with a lot more gray area in the middle. What I’ve always tried to stop is feeling worthless because the cycle ran thusly:

I would open up about something deep, and she wouldn’t respond at all because “she didn’t have time.” I didn’t get frustrated that she didn’t have time. I got frustrated that her letters were short and didn’t tell me anything. I know that’s half because she’s protecting herself and half because I’m a blogger. My blog is the bane of my existence because it brought us together and tore us apart all in one breath. She knows she’ll always have to be a reader because we know each other, and as I told her in my last letter, “none of this will mean shit to you until it’s been five or 10 years and you see yourself as a different person. Then, the 3D character you don’t see will emerge, because you’re looking for the good things now because you want to remember. I told her about the 614,000 words I’d written in 2023, so I said something like I’ve talked about our problems, but I’ve loved you up just as much…… in all six books.

I also think that if her life is cut short like my mother’s that other people who knew her will want to read my perceptions all the more, because they’re the ones that are going to want to “spend time with her” the most. I feel like I started writing more deeply about her after my mother died, because she wasn’t my mother, but she was someone’s. The worst time she never knew she hurt me (because I didn’t want to rock the boat) was when I told her that she had a “suburban mom vibe.” She said that was probably the meanest thing I’d ever said to her, and because she is who she is, I thought she was joking. She proceeded to rip me a new asshole, when in my mind that archetype was the one I needed the most desperately, the one I’d just lost.

I’ll never forget that because she was a fan first, she has read my story and accepted it as my reality, not hers…. but she’s found truth and beauty in it. When she hasn’t been angry, she’s been very kind about how brilliant a writer I am. But what I don’t know, and will never know at this point, is how she really feels about me.

I called her on it, and she noped out…. because she realized she was waffling and couldn’t give me a solid answer. But what I know for sure, like, Oprah-level sure, is that she’s worth it….. that the experience was worth it even if it’s over now.

I didn’t move to DC to be near her, because I already had my own thing going and my sister dropping in all the time (I actually see her more now). But what I didn’t expect is that we’d still be having the same fight 10 years later when it would have been so easy to solve everything in the length of one coffee/beer.

What I know is that I was too hard on her in my own insecurity, because if she didn’t want to make up her mind, I was out. I didn’t need to inflict fear of a phone call or get-together. I was furious that after 10 years she wouldn’t tell me the truth about anything.

She practically treated me like a stalker when I never was that…. at all. If I was, we wouldn’t have made up. But those feelings of fear remain, so I thought it was crazy when she said, “do you think I care if you look up public information about me?” Ummmm…. yes. Yes, I do. To the point where if I really thought about it, I might throw up. Going back to those days in my mind is torture, and I’ve been trying to forgive myself and can’t. I said some things that never should have been said on a wide variety of topics, and the fact that she hung in for the ride means more to me than she’ll ever know.

However, when I started doing actual conflict resolution and not letting her rattle me by escalating, I was dismissed. That leads me down two trains of thought. The first is that she likes the ups and downs because getting her anger out is a good thing. I don’t care if it’s at me. She’s got to emote sometime, and anger is an emotion. Her outbursts at me are the most emotion I’ve seen out of her in a long time. That’s because I know she’s going through the shit, so I pray for her. The second is that she’s simply avoidant because she doesn’t know how to open up, and that’s not personal to me at all. I can imagine that if she’s shut down with me, she’s shut down with more than just me.

The way you resolve conflict is learned in your first family, and it takes extensive therapy to make a relationship last because you’re constantly trying to merge two parenting styles. My family was all buttoned up for many years. We got over it. It was better to be mad in the moment and forgive quickly than it was to hold onto frustration for years and years. Therefore, it’s very hard for me to be in a relationship where people keep their anger, guilt, whatever bottled up. I can’t stop thinking about when the other shoe is going to drop. Neither does my beautiful girl, because her answer is to keep avoiding everything and my answer is “there’s no way back, only through.” I can’t do much to help the relationship heal, but like I said, I pray for her every night, and it’s been the same prayer every night for the last 10 years.

If there truly is a God, they can go places with her that I can’t. It comforts me to know that she’s not alone, because even if she doesn’t think God is listening, it’s a comforting image, anyway.

What I missed were all the ways we treated each other during new relationship energy. We lovebombed the absolute fuck out of each other. I have never found anyone like her, and I keep saying that, but some things are too unique. It’s not only that letting you know would be telling her story and not mine, it’s that there are some things about any relationship that I keep private so that there are some things only for me.

You absolutely can’t go back to lovebombing each other if you can’t do conflict resolution over and over. When I stood up, she did not rise to meet me. I didn’t so much let her go, but let her go back to the way she used to live.

I told her she was a phoenix, and I can’t wait to see her rise from the ash…… because she has, professionally. I’m not so sure about relationships, but I only have ours as an example.

I got that INFJ judgmental bastard urge to drag people into the light whether they want to go or not. However, I am not judgmental of people. I’ve wanted to be a lawyer most of my life and have done well in undergrad regarding the preparation for it. Therefore, I will lay out facts representing what I think about both sides of a situation. I am not saying “you’re a bad person.” I am basically reading my emotional docket and the case in front of me has as many complications as medicine. The diagnosis in medicine is the same as the verdict in law: it depends.

I am emotionally capable of being fair and balanced, but because I’m autistic, I’m often not thinking of how to phrase things so that they’ll come across as how I meant them to a neurotypical person. And here, on my blog, some of the literary devices I use don’t make sense unless you’re talking to me behind the scenes.

That’s always what brought Supergrover back around. She didn’t like reading the blog without the brochure, as I’ve said before. But if she talked to me, she’d see that I was being quite reasonable and had a good head on my shoulders. What she has not realized is the lengths I’ve gone to in order to protect her and harps on breadcrumbs I never would have seen……… unless we had talked about it.

In this way, I am my own main character (in the original writing prompt, the kid was a picky eater), because when I feel these emotional situations weighing themselves in my mind, I develop sensory issues because I need deprivation so badly to regulate my emotions. I don’t even listen to music when I write anymore. I just listen to my typing.

There are days when I can’t take exciting food, because I’ve already had it up to my eyeballs. A meltdown would be serving me something from a restaurant instead of a peanut butter and banana sandwich, because I was overstimulated before you brought home lobster.

I don’t have very good meltdowns. I have shutdowns. I am not very good at standing up for myself, nor being impolite or socially awkward in any way. Therefore, having a meltdown in front of someone would have to be major. I’d eat the lobster, I’d just hate that the food is one more thing I don’t have the bandwith with which to pay attention.

Meltdown often comes online, when I am overstimulated and itching for a fight. But I’m so dextrous with words that I’m not looking to destroy people (though some would say I am after a straight woman read an entire thread from me and a friend talking about how straight people could support queer people, and then asked me for ideas on making an ally flag. Now, in this instance, angry black woman and angry white lesbian are not dissimilar. I don’t want to do work for straight people. Look it up. Read the rest of the comments, at least.

She caught me on a very bad day and she was also uneducated as fuck, so I could have been nicer and I didn’t know how. I just had to be kind. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was heated…. where I took apart every one of her talking points in order to educate herself on being the parent of someone queer, because if you have a queer child, you can’t possibly have institutionalized homophobia, now can you? I also have mixed emotions about straight people wearing rainbow flags, because they have the option to take them off.

Most of the time, though, I go in and de-escalate a situation. I’ve whipped line cooks’ asses and it turned into an actually deep conversation. It was a Taylor Swift joke in poor taste and I took issue with that.

I am certain that I have responded like this to Supergrover, but because she didn’t see the meltdown, she didn’t see me as trying to be kind but not nice. I will agree that I was over the top, but I never said anything untrue about our anxious/avoidant attachment. I don’t expect her to treat my anxious attachment with kid gloves. I expect her not to withold information so that I know exactly what’s going on, because I can’t process situations on no information from the other person. I will send myself into a spiral. I don’t think I’ve ever had a problem about which I couldn’t overthink.

So, the less information she gave me, the more I spiraled out trying to fix things, because I assumed that everything was all about me. It’s not because it actually was. It’s that I had absolutely no information to the contrary to put things into context/perspective.

We don’t have a context, and that’s a good thing most of the time because we can talk about things without it affecting everyone else in our physical lives. But over time, it began to be a hard row to hoe, because I wanted peace……

One way or the other.

I’m Racing Against the Clock

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?

In order for this to count today, I have to have it in by midnight. It’s 11:09 PM. So, if there’s a Monty Python ending, it’s because I’ve realized it’s 12:59.

Love this week came in one screenshot:

First of all, I didn’t even know I was building suspense (in my fiction entry, “Words Are Hard, Part I“). The entry is called that because the box of writing prompts that Zac got me for Christmas are packaged as a game called “Words Are Hard,” and that’s the first prompt I picked up that really spoke to me.

Rebecca has been living in my head for ten years now, as have Gregory, Leila, and Kermit. I just wasn’t sure what direction to go with them, so I came up with what I hope was intelligent fiction, because it can’t be accurate enough to be fiction about intelligence.

JL Henry is a relatively new friend of mine, introduced to me by Tyler Moore. They’re both accomplished novelists, and they run a podcast called “The Quill Drivers;” they’ve both been amazing about teaching me tips and tricks to get readership….. and with readership comes the possibility of Facebook paying me. I’ve thought they should for years, but no one asked me.

The blessing of my life was when Tyler said, “join my writing group.” I said, “I’m not a fiction writer. Are there other bloggers?” He said there weren’t many, but writing is writing. And now I have a whole box of cards and a Facebook group called “The Writer’s Forum” that will beat me like a red headed stepchild when I need it.

It’s solid growth in the direction I need to go, and it meant leaving behind some beautiful things. I am in the position of finding the next beautiful, starting with Zac and his box of torture devices writing prompts.

For my readers that have already heard that story, you haven’t heard that I feel loved because my “date” for dinner with my sister got snowed out, so we planned a staycation over Valentine’s Day. So, this year the love I’ll give is the kind you want to give someone you’ve known and loved since before they were born.

Let me tell you. Methodist Hospital never knew what hit it.

This is Going to Sound Entitled and Elitist, But…….

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 3 Comments

Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

I need a housekeeper.

I do not know how I could acquire one, because the going rates around here are quite expensive. That being said, there’s a method to my madness, though. Both people who are neurodivergent and/or suffer from mental illness have problems taking care of themselves regarding clutter and cleanliness. The things that neurotypical people find easy, like creating a routine for putting things away are anathema to the neurodivergent. That’s because we can create a system. We no not maintain them well, if at all. For instance, the perfect system for someone who’s ADHD or AuDHD means everything is right out in front of you, all the time……. because I’m suggesting object permanence is a problem………………..

No, seriously. I’ve read a ton of books on how to manage myself (they haven’t helped, but I’m trying). One of them is The Bible and it’s called “How to Keep House While Drowning.” That’s because it doesn’t offer you practical advice on cleaning like Kim and Aggie from “How Clean is Your House” (one of my favorite BBC shows, now archived on YouTube). No, it is a straight up workbook over why your emotions are getting the better of you when it comes to cleaning. Because first, it’s either demand avoidance or burnout. Then, it’s shame, guilt, and anxiety over the way you let your house get when you were literally incapable due to a straight up disability. Basically, “How to Keep House While Drowning” is a way to organize your life so that you don’t think the world is coming down around you every time you don’t organize something.

The second book is much more practical because women have different needs with ADHD than men. It’s called “The Queen of Distraction: How Women with ADHD Can Conquer Chaos, Find Focus, and Get Things Done.” It’s here where I learned that if you’re ADHD, get clear cabinets. Don’t give a damn about what other people think. If you can’t see your stuff, you won’t organize it. It will stay hidden from your mind forever…………….

Because I’m suggesting that object permanence is a problem………… The funniest thing is that the joke about object permanence was actually about me, not clutter. That Zac thinks of me living as much further away than I do. I should have told him to get me a clear cabinet……… For Houstonians, it’s about the distance from Lindsay’s house on the east side to my old house in Westbury. For Portlanders, it’s about the same distance as it is from Trendy Third St. SW to 181st and SE Stark.

This means that it takes 33 minutes at 0500 if you’re driving, but if we were both caught in morning or afternoon drive, I could probably beat him home on the Metro/bus. That’s the thing I love about the train/bus. Unless it’s snowing, the busses are reliable and I can pre-guess about what time I’m going to get somewhere. No freeway in DC can tell you that, and take that check to the bank and cash it… The longest I’ve ever been delayed on the Metro is 10 or 15 minutes, and that’s just because we were slow getting into the station by about five minutes at least twice because there was another red line train on our track. I wish I’d taken the first one….. obviously.

Until you read both books, you will literally not know how to handle your life, and of course there are a million books written on ADHD, but “Queen” is endorsed by the author(s) that wrote “Driven to Distraction,” the therapist and psychiatrist Bible on ADHD presentation. But what those authors were saying is that “Queen” does a better job of catering specifically to female ADHD. There’s just so much bullshit around female ADHD, because first of all, I believe that there are a lot more of us with hyperactivity that could use stimming to an enormous degree……. but it was beaten out of us by the expectations of the older women in our lives. Social masking has so much to do with how you’re raised. You learn that your natural behavior is unacceptable, and you do things that make you think you fit in, because you are only imitating their behavior, not understanding why things are done the way they’re done.

The first sign of ADHD in all people is making a diagnosis appointment and being late for it. Those things are universal. I believe that stimming, anger, etc. isn’t beaten out of boys because men are socialized to be angry, anyway, and because most women were enculturated by their mothers, they will spend an inordinate amount of time trying to make their neurodivergent child into some version of them, because that’s how they were taught to behave. And perhaps it’s more than that…… because neurodivergence and mental illness are genetic, your mother might actually be neurodivergent and is trying to teach you her own coping mechanisms for feeling like an alien.

Read “How to Keep House While Drowning,” because until you work through your emotional issues with keeping tidy, then you’ll be ready for the content that “Queen” offers, because her system for organization actually works. I can’t remember if the author is ADHD or whether her organization skills came from designing systems for her ADHD children, but please hear me that the emotional work first is the best thing you can do for yourself, because it will put into perspective why you are not a bad person because you can’t do these things.

As we used to say in our church creed at Bridgeport, “be responsible and let go of guilt. Be mindful and carry no shame.” You will not be ready to address practical things until both of those ideas happen for you. Neurodivergent people will not make the commitment to organize until they don’t feel like shit about themselves 100% of the time.

It’s one of the reasons I hate “Hoarders,” to be honest. You get the neurodivergent/mentally ill wails of people who are nowhere near prepared to get rid of their stuff and are supposed to be grateful for the favor. I am sure that they will be after some therapy, but it would be like taking a baby bird out of a nest and saying, “fly, bitch! Fly!” There is no way that a television show can cover what needs to happen so that hoarding doesn’t recur. It takes years to get rid of those tendencies, and a television show coming in to clean your house once is not the answer. It will look the same way in a year. Also, I have seen a lot of autistic people (in retrospect) that have gone into complete meltdown and burnout…………… and it makes for good television. It’s one thing to code a fictional character as autistic. It is embarrassing as FUCK for people to film you and show your real unregulated emotions come out. All the social masking stops because they’re terrified. And to the producers, that’s entertainment. On this one issue, fuck them.

I can always find the silver lining, and that’s learning how professional organizers do what they do. I think I would be a much better housekeeper than I would at keeping my own systems going, because most neurodivergent people can clean someone else’s house, even if it’s a straight up hoarding nightmare, because they don’t have any emotional investment in the mess and how it got that bad. Perception is everything. “Not my circus, not my monkeys.” I will completely dissociate because I can.

Maybe we should offer an exchange or something. I am absolutely OCD about my own kitchen, the one thing I keep so clean you could eat off the floor that’s completely of my own volition because of “how I was raised.” (Shoutout to all of them….. Dana, my first chef, John Kinkaid, John Fot, Drew Collard, Damon Hersch, Anh Lu, Evan Henson, Ryan Victor (shoutout to the mixologist) and the thousands of hours I’ve spent on YouTube with top-tier chefs learning knife skills. I watch Bourdain and Ripert. It takes me about 30 seconds to go into the ugly cry).

But the kitchen is ironclad in my mind because I spent so many years doing it. It’s the one room of the house where I don’t attach any emotion to how messy it gets because it’s not all on me. I will do everyone’s dishes if they’re in the sink because I can’t stand soaking a pot (we’ve covered this before. It doesn’t work). Plus, I have the right and experience to say that I’m just going to be better at it than they are because one of my housemates is a cook, but she works in a hospital, so it’s not really the same thing as trying to close down a kitchen as fast as humanly possible. The only thing I can’t seem to get out is the discoloration on the glass-top stove, but I’m sure John Fot will write me a dissertation on it when he reads this, and it will be delightful because there’s nothing more that I love than reading about kitchen hacks.

Where I struggle is in the private places, because I don’t have a system for anything. I am a Virgo, so I am killer at creating systems that would work for neurotypical people because I’ve watched what works for them for many years. I even picked up a few things from Meagan in senior English that helped me. She color coded her subjects like Trivial Pursuit, something I do to this day by changing the folder colors in my file tree. What I cannot do is extrapolate all of that into having a life in which I can thrive on structure because that’s all my autism wants…….. and my ADHD nopes out quickly.

This has become a problem with every relationship I’ve ever had, because I didn’t have the words for “autistic meltdown and burnout.” I didn’t have words for things like “pathological demand avoidance” (I don’t know if mine is pathological yet, I just haven’t had treatment. Basically, you get said treatment and if it doesn’t work, it’s pathological.). I don’t know how much of my health insurance will cover an autism diagnosis, but I know that I need one, badly. I am at odds with myself over the two processing disorders all the time. I’m ready to go through the official process because not being diagnosed is causing more problems than it’s worth. I need to know as much about AuDHD as humanly possible if Zac and I start getting closer, or I meet someone else and actually want to pursue living with them.

But what I do know is that the reason my relationships tend not to be successful is that most people on the spectrum are not caught. They’re pegged as “weaponizing incompetence” or what’s called “learned helplessness.” Most people attribute too much malice into our behavior, when we literally don’t think the same way as you. But all of this “weaponized incompetence” would go away if I had a housekeeper, because I wouldn’t be creating resentment in my relationship over the house being so…………… meeeeeeee.

One of the reasons that I was really looking forward to living overseas with Daniel (we’d talked about Viet Nam) is that hiring servants is completely normal and adds to the local economy. If our house was big enough, they could live with us. That would be ideal, because I’d love a housekeeper to flip me shit when I don’t put things back where they go and lose them a minute later. My mind doesn’t record where everything goes, only a few….. and even that is sketchy.

I don’t know that even on a combined salary we could afford such a thing, unless we hired an au pair and said, “we actually don’t have any kids except a 25-year-old. Basically we’re the kids.” We might not get any bites, but it’s worth a shot. 😛

Most emotionally unavailable people start shutting down when they feel resentment, because they won’t just say it out loud. They don’t have any practice……. especially in lesbian relationships. I can hear resentment because I’ve heard it before. What no one has ever said to me is “clearly you need help, and I’m going to help you.” This doesn’t mean anything in terms of cleaning up one mess. I will never forget both Dana and Carol’s work on my past places to get them ready to turn over. They were beasts, and I can’t thank them enough- even more in retrospect.

When Dana came over to help me, we’d just begun that transition from friends who hung out occasionally to “you’re my new best friend. Call me every day.” A girlfriend that I’d loved so hard I broke my own heart due to terrible expectations left me in a wreck. it was only supposed to be a May-December romance, and I was foolish enough to think that we clicked, anyway. Disaster ensued. She was much older than me, but in a lot of ways, I was older than her because all INFJs are a thousand years old when they’re born. I think that’s why I seek out women who are age-gapped from me. I’ve been that old since I was nine.

Anyway, it was the hardest breakup I’ve ever had (so far), because I lost it. I was grieving the future that I wanted with her, and then I went to a party. At that party, I met a couple who had the same age difference as my girlfriend and me, and they were announcing they were having a baby. I did not know this beforehand, and I was so caught off guard that everyone thought I was crying over the good news of people I’d just met and it was a little bit over the top.

If you knew her like I did, you would have been wrecked, too.

My reaction was to go into total burnout. I didn’t leave my bed unless I had to for months. I barely made it to church, but that was the one social obligation I could keep despite it being murder seeing her all the time. We eventually made our peace, and I still think she’s cute as a button. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t hell on earth, then.

I lived in what I told Dana was “dumped girl phase,” and that I’d never told anyone this before, but I cannot function. The most beautiful words in the English language came out of her mouth…….. “we’ll fix it.” It wasn’t that she was going to fix everything for me. She didn’t say, “I’ll fix it.” She whipped me into shape so that I became anal Annie about my whole apartment just to say thank you and it will never get this bad again. It would have been nothing if I hadn’t changed my behavior as a result of my deep gratitude.

But that apartment was basically a studio, with a folding door between my bedroom and the living room. I gave away a lot of stuff, and then I didn’t have much to keep clean. I didn’t need a housekeeper because as long as I didn’t buy anything new (not that I don’t like nice things….. I don’t like to manage them), then my apartment would stay clean.

The second time that Carol and Dana helped me was when I’d just broken up with Katharin. I went into meltdown and burnout because I didn’t know what to do. We’d rented this house that was only doable on two incomes, and it was just the right house for a couple……… just not for us, as it turns out. So, I was happy about the breakup because I knew that Katharin didn’t really want to move to Portland. She just said she did because I wanted to go, because I knew that Houston was a minefield of triggers and at that time, Portland wasn’t.

She can blame our breakup on me all she wants to, but the truth is she couldn’t just say “I let you go find the house and I went home to Corpus to spend the summer and I realized I couldn’t leave my family.” She had backed out of moving twice before she finally said she wasn’t coming because I “cheated on her.” What really happened is that Dana read me the riot act and I have never taken in a conversation so hard.

Here is some version of what she said, most of it verbatim but I don’t remember everything………

It’s not normal for your girlfriend to go through your checking transactions to see if you’ve been in your best friend’s neighborhood when you have a thousand friends in Southeast. It’s not normal for someone to shoot down an incredible opportunity for you because you’re going to be gone for three months. She turned it into “if you really loved me, you’d stay.” It’s not normal for someone to fall in love with you and then say, “I’d think you were less flaky if you finished your degree. It’s not normal for your girlfriend to keep you away from a best friend you met years and years before you met her. I’m tired of watching you hurt.

Editor’s Note:

I’d been offered an internship at Human Rights Campaign to help shape Sunday School curriculum in modern/liberal interpretations to include queer people. It would be for people like the More Light Presbyterians, the Lutherans (I could have written for Nadia Bolz-Weber and don’t think I’m not mad about it), and the Reconciling Movement in the United Methodist Church…………….. the closest I’ll ever become to being a Methodist minister because they made it clear they didn’t want me when I was 15.

So, that little speech made me realize that my best friend had my best interests at heart, and Katharin had stopped drinking, but was still a dry drunk with the need to control me. Her family also gave her the most fucked up childhood you can imagine, so both of our trauma reflexes were well=ingrained.

Katharin’s family wasn’t wealthy, so when she turned 18, they took out a whole bunch of credit cards and loans in her name. Then, she came out to them and pretended she was dead for a year, saying that they didn’t have to pay her back because it was “the gay tax.”

In retrospect, at that time in my life, Katharin was way above my pay grade, and no one noticed because she was “more successful than me.” She was a middle school counselor, and good at her job. But when her frustrations boiled over, it was “All Pick on Leslie Day.”

The relief of that relationship ending, yet the terror, made it where I just collected shit everywhere. Just soda bottles everywhere I didn’t pick up because I didn’t care. I couldn’t.

Autistic meltdown and burnout makes for good television, tho……….. eyeroll.

So, in order to get me out of the house, Carol and Dana came over and we did it all in one day, maybe one and a half. I don’t remember what happened next; I might have moved in with them, or I might have stayed at another friend’s house. But what I know is that everyone who met Katharin in Oregon didn’t like her….. for me or just in general. That’s because no one in Portland is impressed by what you do.

And sometimes, Katharin was just as straight up mean in person, in front of my friends, that she was at home. It just goes to show how easily I got used to her words making me feel terrible, because my words about myself weren’t that different.

In that case, hiring a housekeeper wouldn’t have helped, because Katharin’s anger and resentment came from a completely different place. But in all the others, I have found that because people’s problems are so complex and emotional, not being able to clean up after yourself for whatever reason is the one problem you actually can throw money at, because you’re not hiring a servant. You’re making an accommodation for your disability that will take resentment about chores off the table.

But before I have the ability to hire a housekeeper, I at least need to start reading “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” instead of “The Joy of Leaving Your Shit All Over the Place.”

To All the Pets I’ve Loved Before

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 3 Comments

What is your favorite animal?

Interestingly enough, I cannot tell you the exact date that the last time this prompt appeared. I can only tell you that it was the day I got together with Lindsay to discuss ideas for Matt’s Christmas present. She didn’t know what the hell to tell me, because our men are hard to buy for- Dad, Zac, and Matt- because when they like things, they just get them. So, I bought Matt two things I knew he probably wouldn’t think to buy for himself….. they were on his Wish List, but I can’t imagine that these were necessary purchases….. just cool. Because of my history with the sport, I got him the soccer ball he wanted (I figured a soccer ball is a gift that should come from me, frankly. Matt knows more about the sport, but I know more about the players (I’m guessing). Oh, and I didn’t even know he was a Weezer fan, but I got him “The Blue Album” on vinyl. That’s a gift that should come from me as well, because they’re my favorite band of all time.

There’s no better feeling than a nice stretch of highway and “Dope Nose” blaring like “Peter Gunn” at 70mph.

But the reason I bring up Lindsay and Matt is that today is the same writing prompt, and Lindsay and I are going out for dinner….. again. This prompt is now an omen, so I’m going to keep praying for it. 😉

I said, “it seems to me that you’re in DC a lot more often now. Is that true?” She said “yes,” so I’m looking forward to seeing more of her as time allows. She’s not always free enough to get together, but when she is, it’s a blast.

When I first moved here, this was all a projection on my part and I was right. Lindsay and Matt are involved in politics on many levels, so it was not inconceivable that they’d both end up here. In the 2016 election, if Pete Buttigieg had won, Lindsay would have gotten a job in his administration because it pays to have old, old friends/bosses who are also behind the scenes. Lindsay basically ran Annise Parker’s campaign after Peter Brown lost (we love you, Pete…. rest in peace). When she won, Annise put her in Constituent Services and later “body man,” like Charlie in “The West Wing.” Then, Annise ran Pete’s campaign; I’ve never been more sorry that anyone didn’t get the nomination, because it affected me so personally and to me, Pete was “the guy,” like they talk about with Bartlett. He has it, man. But, of course, I am incredibly biased. He’s military intelligence, so I was literally obsessed with him on multiple levels.

What I have to say about Lindsay ending up here is………. sort of. I know for sure that I see Lindsay more now than I ever did in Houston, because her whole life is there. When she’s here, she’s not balancing a million different friends and their needs as well. After work, she’s all mine. Jill would be proud to know that we’ve been very responsible and no communities have been built…. and she’s an e-mail subscriber so I know this will immediately go to her desk. 😉 But, in all of this, there are drawbacks for me because Lindsay and I have a different form of ADHD. Mine is combined with Autism, hers isn’t.

Therefore, her brain is designed to think about and manage a million thoughts at once, because her brain is bursting with creativity and she can retain that information. My autism makes it where I cannot handle a million details nor remember them; I get so frustrated because I want to drill down into policy just as bad. I just don’t understand as fast when Lindsay is doing it by talking.

I have to transcribe a conversation to understand it, because I take in most everything through sight. It’s why I don’t get clarity on a subject until I’ve witnessed something and written it down. It makes me know that I am accurate in guessing what neurotypical people would do, but struggle to imitate it and make it feel natural. That’s what makes autistic people feel like aliens, and why “Resident Alien” is one of my favorite TV shows, because Alan Tudyk’s character, whether it’s his alien tendencies or human, is coded as autistic and really funny about it. But because I due process information through reading, it makes me shy when Lindsay takes me along to events where other important people are also there.

I am not a fan of the rarefied air in which she walks, and not because I don’t want to meet people like Kamala. It’s because I don’t pick up social cues well and I don’t want to make a mistake that Lindsay can’t recover from, like me getting on my high horse about something (politics is part of my intelligence special interest…….. love, love, love Karl Rove and not because I agree with any of his bullshit. He’s just the anti-Carville and I admire his “strategery.” Democrats could learn MUCH, but they won’t.). Her career is so important to both of us. It shouldn’t be about me and my behavior, but it comes with the territory.

Here’s a recent conversation (Lindsay and Kamala have known each other since the campaign trail. They’ve met…..):

Lindsay: I have a meeting with Kamala.

Leslie: I will give you five dollars if you walk up to her and say, “my sister lives in DC and she wants to know if you want to hang out.”

Lindsay: She’s a politician. Of course she’ll say yes.

Dead.

This is what comes up for me when I think about the last entry that I wrote about Kevin, the giraffe I loved at the National Zoo and who does not live here anymore.

But what comes up for me now is that with all the things I struggle with in my daily life, the only being I’ve ever told is Oliver.

Who is a dog.

Hold On to Your Butts -or- I Hope You Like to Read

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 2 Comments

Think back on your most memorable road trip.

Before we get started today, I have to give a shoutout to Susan. When I went back over her comment on yesterday’s entry, I realized what she was actually saying and I laughed til I cried. She said, “I’m surprised at what’s coming up for people in response to this ‘innocent’ question.” I was confused because I thought I’d asked a question in the writing and I was slow on the uptake as to which question she meant……. and then I realized that THE WRITING PROMPT was a question. Face palm. Yes, the writing prompt was completely innocent, and it didn’t take me all the places I could have gone because I have so many food memories.

I stopped taking road trips when I stopped driving, but I do love them. Zac was kidding me about being a bad driver, which is valid. But when I didn’t have a choice, I drove. I got better with age, but my last wreck came from my last road trip. When I tell you the circumstances, you probably won’t be surprised. Just yet another time autism ate my lunch.

I think deeply about things, to the point of the exlusion of everything going on around me. As a driver, this is not ideal. I think everyone is like this to some extent; they get lost in their own little world and then all of the sudden, there’s a car there….. I’d just talked to my first girlfriend after years and years, and I can’t remember what it was about the conversation that had me tripped up- mostly that it had been so long and I had absolutely no idea why she ghosted me in the first place.

She came out of hiding to say she was sorry my mother died, and then nothing ever again. Because basically what I realized is that she had the ability to control my emotions because mine went up and down as hers did. If you’ve read any of my writing in the last 20 years, you know this is not an unusual thing for me. I’m an INFJ. I take on every emotion in the room, good and bad.

I did what I always did back then when I was upset. I went to Waffle House. Or I tried. The one I used to go to when I lived here before was out in bum fuck Virginia, but there was one on my side of the river in Frederick. So, off I go for salvation- which in this case was going to be a triple order of hash browns with chili, cheese, and onions. It’s my emotional support junk food.

Frederick isn’t really that far; I’m not sure that a Marylander would think of Silver Spring to Frederick as a road trip, but it was memorable. I ended up in the hospital when I took a curve too fast and slammed into a guardrail. I hadn’t been drinking (as opposed to what normally happens when you go to a Waffle House), I was just lost in thought and missed a sign for a 25mph speed limit while coming around…… or at least, I thought I did. The cop who came to ticket me (deservedly, I was really nice about the whole thing and so was he), he said that it wasn’t marked on this side. It was marked on the other side of the freeway. I remained cool and calm, but on the inside, I was livid. How is a sign a half mile away going to help me in this situation?

So, yes, I was driving distractedly, but I surely cannot be at fault for everything that happened that day if a curve was that dangerous at 30mph and unmarked. Seriously, five miles over at the entrance to a freeway and I went up on two wheels. I took my lumps, and I’ve never driven again…. unless I was in Texas and Lindsay and I were going to our grandparents’ houses or something (they used to live in the same town- our step-grandparents lived about six miles away). And even then, that’s only happened once.

Lindsay likes to control the driving and the music. You have no choice in this matter. 😉 I just don’t mind because she listens to things I’ve never heard before. For instance, Charlotte Cardin…. she’s a Canadian who had her premiere American concert at Union Stage, and we got to be there. Just a core memory all the way around.

Oh, wait. I did drive on one of our road trips, and it brings me to a really funny story even though :::waves hand::: this is not the road trip you are looking for.

When I was about 23, my mother went with her church choir to perform at Carnegie Hall. Lindsay, Kathleen, and I couldn’t get tickets for the performance, but my mom invited us to meet her in New York and just bum around. I think we spent the night? Not sure, but I put in a text to Lindsay to see if she remembers. If she gets back to me “before publication,” I might be able to shed some more light. I want to say we stayed at The Time hotel, but I’ve spent a couple nights in New York and I may be mixing up trips………

But anyway, when we were kids, my dad left an entire pound of sliced turkey in the trunk of his car. We didn’t find it for weeks. When we finally found it, my dad called it “Lanagan Lunchmeat Syndrome.” So, at one point, I think Philly, we stopped at a gas station to get sandwiches because Washington to New York is really not that far. We just needed a snack. So, that was a good move right up until I didn’t notice that Lindsay left half a sandwich in the back seat of my car for like, six weeks, so I know that Lanagan Lunchmeat Syndrome is genetic. I’m sure I’ve celebrated it more than once since then… Oh, wait. I definitely have because I can’t remember whether it was Dana or me, but she definitely knows about “Lanagan Lunch Meat Syndrome.”

The reason I can’t remember is that Dana didn’t change her name legally, but we were both Mrs. Lanagan to our friends. That’s because at the time we were thinking about having kids. We didn’t, of course, but at the time it made sense for us all to have the same last name and she had cousins with her last name and I didn’t. So, we both answered to “Lanagan” in the kitchen and I don’t believe I have ever been more touched when they called her and she answered to it. Plus, it was fun calling her “Naganalanad.” Oh, and we had two other nicknames. Dana introduced me to one of her customers that always called her “Trouble.” So, when he said, “hey, Trouble,” she introduced me as her wife and he nodded to me and said, “Mrs. Trouble.” I don’t remember what I said, but it was some version of “you have no idea.”

But in the original road trip instance of me showing signs of “Lanagan Lunch Meat Syndrome,”, we didn’t spend much time together. The part I really remember is driving down West Side Highway and the water being so incredibly beautiful. This why I wanted to go to New York, Zachary. He only gets the full name when I’m play upset.

No, I was telling everyone in another entry that I’d like to spend some actual time in New York people watching, because that’s the one thing I’d never done. Just gotten a table at an outside café, probably with a newspaper so I’m not incredibly obvious as to all the staring I want to do. How do New Yorkers live? How do they survive? I think my answer would be to slowly become Fran Lebowitz….. and honestly, I’m not even sure I’m not her already. I am 46…….

I have not had many days lately where I’m not absolutely as cranky as she is, but she’s brilliant so a lot of funny comes with her outlook/attitude. I suppose Fran is a better archetype for me because Harper Lee was much more agoraphobic than I am (though I do get that way sometimes). Fran does speaking engagements that are basically just interviews with one person and I think, “I could handle that. It’s just one person.” She also loves being at home with her books and writing, she doesn’t feel trapped there.

I saw a meme that spoke to me yesterday (the reason why I have trouble in conflicts with neurotypical people), literally to my core because it says so much about my emotional abuser, then Meagan, Kathleen, Katharin, Angela, Supergrover, and to a certain extent, Meagan and Dana (that’s because they were the only two personalities I’ve dated/been partners with that deviated from the pattern and got into it once I was just, so………….. meeee.

The meme said, “you don’t like dominant women because you’re submissive, you like domaninant women because you’re autistic and they’re direct about what they want.” I can 100 and crazy percent agree that this is why I thought Meagan was right, that we would have been good partners for each other as adults if we’d tried, because she was an athlete and is now a massage therapist. That means she is driven to succeed and also didn’t completely steamroll me every chance she got.

She was in touch with her fallibility, when a lot of women aren’t. When emotionally unavailable people shut down, whatever it is that they’re upset about becomes inflexible and there’s not a lot of compromise. I have come to realize over the years that this is not personal in any way and just to distance myself from those people. It’s not because I don’t love them to the moon and back (even Kathleen, because I’m determined not to be bitter).

The feeling I had with Meagan where there were some things I felt strongly about and some things I did was why my relationship with Sam tripped me up for a bit. I did not feel that I was absolutely steamrolled until I put all the puzzle pieces together. Just wire monkey all the way around when I desperately needed cloth after a bad relationship beforehand….. and there were seven years between Dana and Sam, so it was a very big deal for me to let my guard down even that much. So, the first red flag is that she felt responsible for my transportation because she had a car and I didn’t. Not once in three weeks did she say, “I’m going to be at X. Meet me there.”

In fact, I don’t think she ever would have, because she’s a mom and wants to take care of everyone, overextending herself in the process by putting something on herself that just didn’t need to be there………. and the biggest red flag as to why I originally said no to our first date. She picked on me for not having a car.

I told her that if we worked out, I would think about buying a car because it wouldn’t just be about me. I’d need to be able to get there faster if she was stuck for child care or whatever (I never wanted to be the stepmom unless she asked me, just mom’s girlfriend who lets us get away with murder- relative, because they’re pretty much the perfect kids.

I didn’t have the money to buy a car currently and if I did come into enough money to buy a car, I wasn’t sure it was the safest option for me unless I bought a Tesla, the only way I’d let the kids ride with me because of the technology. I also said that I was waiting for other car companies to get their adaptive driving tools in their own cars because Elon Musk is a tool. So, from the very beginning, me not having a car was a straight up problem……………. FOR HER.

It was a road trip to see her, but not any longer than I would have taken to see Zac, just in the other direction. She lived near BWI, and the train ticket on the MARC was $18 round trip. If Sam wasn’t available to pick me up, or just didn’t want to, it was close enough to Uber without spending an arm and a leg. And not just to her house- it was a small town. I could have met her anywhere, without, I might had, having to pay for or find parking.

The other thing is that Sam told me from the very beginning that she was just starting a successful clinic and she really didn’t have time to date. That she didn’t even know if she could see me after our first date. This did not sit well with me. I said, “it looks like you’re only looking for a girlfriend for a weekend, and I’m not into that at all. She promised that no, it had nothing to do with that, it was only timing both with her business and with the kids’ dad (we weren’t even close to being introduced- that would have been straight up insane). The one thing the kids did know is that their mom was dating someone, and if it worked out they might meet me, but she wanted the kids to know she was dating in case I accidentally left something at their house, etc.

So, I know that Sam wasn’t as shallow about all this as she seemed. She was trapped between two worlds; the one where she wanted a successful business, and also wanted to throw her whole heart into a relationship because she didn’t know how not to do that. Frankly, until I’d been dating Zac for a year, I didn’t know how not to do that, either. It took time and patience to learn, because negotiating emotional boundaries doesn’t wig me out the way it used to.

I was actually talking to Zac about this, that because of the way I was raised, I was taught to see men as an authority figure, as all women are and fight against it our whole lives…. and that me being 10 years older made me realize I wasn’t scared of him. That I actually was coming from a place of wisdom, but not always because Zac is every bit as intelligent and creative as I am. I feel like I have met my match, and because I feel polysaturated at one person, I don’t feel the need to date more because now I’m the one that doesn’t have time for a full-on relationship because I am pouring my energy into all of you.

And we negotiate boundaries all the time, except that most of those are on my end. You get to see what you get to see, but I do have a third dimension…………. kind of. 😛

So, I am of two minds about the breakup. I was trapped in the same world she was- content to focus on my writing and not her exclusively so she wasn’t overwhelmed at work and at home. This led to two issues. The first is that I don’t know how long it had been since her last relationship, but she basically went into it feet first and rushed everything until it flamed out. She was scared she was going to do that with me, and I know it.

You don’t have jokes like me calling her “Wilhousky” if you don’t get each other on a deep spiritual level. I am lyric soprano, and she’s an alto with mezzo tendencies….. so basically, the same kind of soprano as me. Not full of herself, first of all, because most lyric sopranos are. It’s supposed to be my job to be the egotistical nut bag, but I’m not because I’ve watched those absolute bitches for years and I will have no part of it. I already know that with pieces that really fit my voice, I am unstoppable all on my own. I don’t need to compare myself to anyone else at any time…… and Sam felt the same way.

Plus, her house was big enough that if she wanted a grand piano, I could have brought her one. 😉 But that would have taken years to build, and she was so ready and yet not. She felt it was too soon to jump in feet first, yet didn’t have any experience not doing so. Frankly, neither did I. But what I was comfortable with is loving her to whatever level she would accept, because I thought she would make a great friend if we weren’t together……… right up until she text messaged me to break up and when I asked her if we could talk about this, she said she didn’t think it would do any good. To me, that’s not an adult. That’s hiding. But there’s more to lesbian relationships moving fast than you might think. We are terrified of scarcity. We will lock down bad relationships and stay in them for years because it’s so hard to meet lesbians as a general rule.

In terms of queer women, we are very much known for this. My friend Beck and I are both surprised U-Haul has not built an entire ad campaign around it……… It’s not a secret, it’s history. As I said in a queer group on Facebook, “we don’t want to treat women like men. We don’t want other women to treat us the way men treat women. So we do what women have done for thousands of years….. use inference until someone gives or until both people die.” I don’t want to be this way with anyone anymore, because it’s never gotten me anywhere.

Most, if not all lesbians need to be told directly that you like them, because I promise you that most women have self-esteem issues and will not believe it just by watching across the room for interest. So, I feel very sorry for it, but that’s what gave me too much hubris with my beautiful girl. Because first of all, if she felt anything from my letters, I knew she wouldn’t tell me. The second thing is that I didn’t want to go my whole life without knowing the answer.

I was brave, crazy, and a total idiot. I think she didn’t tell me she was in a serious relationship because she knew it would hurt; it actually made things 10 times worse because she waited so long to lower the boom. In my opinion, she didn’t tell me things like that because she was afraid of my reaction…. because I would imagine that she has had to deal with male interest every single fucking day of her life.

With me, she got shy and absolutely didn’t know what to say. In some ways, and please forgive me, beautiful girl, just something I know to be true from other women that have been older than me- their internalized homophobia is stronger because of the era in which they grew up. Just because there are gay people around someone doesn’t mean they know how to react when someone is interested in them. My job was to make sure that it didn’t feel threatening, and at first, it didn’t. She was flattered and appreciated my thoughts.

But I was married, and basically, so was she. But there was a power dynamic between us that made our relationship stronger and different than the one with my wife. But those are all the parts I can’t explain, which is why I was such a dick in trying to shut the relationship down. I really thought she’d block me on everything and that would be the end of that.

She didn’t understand any of it because she wasn’t in love with me. She didn’t freak at seeing my picture in her feed all day. It wasn’t hard for her to see my status updates because she wasn’t reading into them the way I was into hers, because it hurt to be close and not. Nothing about our situation said that we were having the same experience, but that didn’t mean that either was wrong.

She said something to me that I’ve always remembered, because it gave me room in the relationship to be me. She said, “we both have different ways of being in this relationship, and that’s not wrong. I don’t know what else to say.” She didn’t have to- that one line was everything and I’ve remembered it for a decade. Most of the things that I’ve remembered, I’ve remembered for a decade.

That’s because those are the days in which we really opened up to each other without putting emotional guns on the table and seeing if they’d go off. What I have learned from this, many, many times, is that she must love me to some extent because no one in their right mind would have stayed and fought it out with me if they didn’t.

Even on our worst days, we still communicated. It might have been angry that day, but the connection was still there. What we didn’t have was my ability to call her out on her bullshit, when that wasn’t a problem before. There was an even more strict power dynamic because she thought I was always trying to rile her up and make her angry.

I always thought that’s because she doesn’t deal in deep emotions and I do a hundred percent of the time. So, what I thought of as opening up and trying to get closer, she thought I was “throwing emotional bombs and waiting for the shit storm to begin.” So, when she’d say that, I’d go into fight or flight and it never ended well.

But those angry conversations are the last thing that happened, not my intention for our friendship. She wasn’t always the one who escalated, but it was easy for her to blame stuff like that on me because I’d already hurt her once and she was protecting herself from it not happening again. I respect that part of it. I do not respect holding me to that wrong forever, because if I didn’t really mean that there was no friend zone, that whatever she offered me was great, I would have given up eight or nine years ago.

I feel like I’ve been acting the way women want men to react, to see that there’s more to life than sex with women and really take in that if women won’t give you that part of themselves, that doesn’t degrade their worth as a person and they still have so much to give you. So, if you take your shot and lose, walking off with your tail between your legs, you have probably lost a relationship that could grow into something strong and comfortable if you weren’t such a jackass about it.

My jackass days are over, because I cannot stress enough how my emotions happened completely organically so that even I was suprised by them, both that they existed at all and that they were intense. One year she was going on vacation and I offered to Skype her. She said, “sure,” and we didn’t make it happen. Our relationship devolved into more and more writing, less and less planning to get together as our two stories diverged in a wood, because it was deeper and more emotionally charged due to the wall between us.

But the thing is, if you’re used to really fucked up love, you’ll find it and stick with it because you don’t know anything else. I’m only calling her out on this part because she thought I was jumping up and down for attention by sending her emotional bombs. In reality, I knew that we’d be apart for a long time, so the letters were weighted so she’d actually have something to chew on before we got together again, even virtually.

But because she thought I was throwing emotional bombs, she’d reply immediately and ream me out. From my perspective, none of the messages she was supposed to get actually came across.

I wasn’t jumping up and down for attention by sending her “emotional bombs.” I was trying to clean up our toxic mess by asking her emotionally intelliegent questions, and doing things for her like occasionally picking up her afternoon coffee and sending her presents for Christmas, her birthday, and Galentine’s Day…… because I’m Leslie….. get it?

We need to remember what’s important in life: friends, waffles, work. Or waffles, friends, work. Doesn’t matter, but work is third.

The first time I sent Supergrover a Galentine’s Day present, she had never seen Parks & Rec, so it was a cute way to suprise her. She said that Feb. 13th would carry a new connotation henceforth, and it was so incredibly sweet. I knew then that she was my “poetic, noble, land mermaid.” It always makes me happy for her to feel happy at something I’ve done, and I feel all of that got overshadowed over time.

It was all my fault, In the Beginning.™

But again, I cannot abide people who forgive you on the surface and pretend everything is fine. My crush on her was not our only problem. Her problems were also on the table, and if I’m really honest, fed each other and also canceled each other out. I think we would have been a different “chosen family” altogether if we could have stopped the petty fighting and started the real one. There was no way to get closer by arguing over the equivalent of our preferred brand of toothpaste while ignoring the fact that we were both struggling underneath.

Editor’s Note:

I’m beginning to realize how long this is. Please excuse me. I took my Adderrall at 0630 and apparently it has kicked in….. JFC.

Now you know why Supergrover was overwhelmed. This entry is basically what one of my weighted letters looked like- I should have sent less of them, but she was my “first text of the day.” And in all honesty, that was all I needed from her. Just to be that person I could say good morning and good night to before I launched into a relationship that meant having to keep up with all that stuff. I knew she wouldn’t get jealous and wonder why I didn’t do it if I forgot or whatever, and I’m not even sure if she liked it or not.

And that became the root of my problem with her, and my problem with Sam. Because both women were emotionally unavailable, neither Supergrover nor Sam would have gone deep with me and said, “here are the things that are going right. Here are the things that are going wrong. Here’s things we can fix. Here’s things that are basic incompatibilities and we should move on….. because we’re wonderful, just not for each other.” I feel like I should have known this with both women a lot earlier than I did, and with Supergrover and Sam both situations resolved in much the same way.

Sam held in all her feelings about wanting to get close right away and also not having enough time for me and didn’t want me to be lonely all the time. What she didn’t know then that I know now is that we would have been as happy as Zac and I are because since he has multiple partners, he’s not dependent on me or vice versa. With Sam, if she’d wanted to be monogamous, it would have worked the same way. I would have been too involved in my own life to pay attention to the fact that she wasn’t always around.

And in fact, now I have an inside joke with one of his other partners, and I’m not sure she even knows it. I’ll use a fake name, but this is still really funny.

Leslie: No need for you to reply, just dropping a note here so I don’t forget. You are out of Diet Dr. Pepper. Karen and I would like a word. 😛 😛 😛

Zac: I’m just now headed for home after I have to stop for……. something.

And here’s the thing. He’s going to have to go to the store again if Karen won’t switch hit like I will. Zac knows that Karen likes Diet Dr Pepper and I like Dr Pepper Zero. It made me feel even more special when he walked in wiht my favorite (just like he would do for her), because Zac is the kind of man that remembers these things.

One date night turned into two because he bought us tickets for a cheese and beer tasting event.

So, the first night we hung out and watched “Sideways,” only the sexiest film in existence because Stephanie is a bad, bad girl. Then, the next night we went to the event at Fair Winds (it’s great, you should try it. It’s in Lorton.). Good lord I had flavors I never thought I’d find outside of Oregon. But I was good to myself. Too much alcohol is bad for my psych meds, so I tasted everything (a couple times), and then had a short Fruit Punch sour that absolutely blew my mind.

Then, it was still relatively early in the evening when we got home, so we watched “The Holdovers,” because we both love Paul Giamatii. Zac had heard a review (or maybe an interview with Paul) where the plot is basically “what if the guy from ‘Sideways’ was Edward James Olmos in ‘Stand and Deliver?.’ Now, I haven’t seen the movie to the end (I fell asleep because we were watching it on a tablet in bed), so I don’t know if he actually wins the entitled private school assholes over, but what I do know is that by writing that description of the movie, it’s making me laugh so hard I’m crying……. because here’s what I know.

Poor kids experience more physical pain. Rich kids experience more emotional pain because they’re surrounded by “safety.” Safety like a mom promising to take her son to St. Kitt’s for Christmas break, then calling him up while his suitcase is in his hand and saying he can’t go because it’s her honeymoon and she doesn’t want him to come. I think I only noticed one kid (not an American) who actually had a good home life. These kids are in boarding school because their parents have kids as status symbols and heirs, not the cuddlebugs they actually are. And, I’m actually not even sure that poor kids experience more physical violence, because I was talking about their neighborhoods. I am sure there are people across the income spectrum who think nothing of beating their children. Those kids learn to do everything to please their parents, so when their parents dump them, they realize that they’ll never please their parents and to find someone else…….. a large part of “Spare,” by the way. He calls out the African man who actually raised him and says it just like that. I think it would have been a dagger to the heart of any father that had feelings.

That’s why boarding school teachers and nurses are so important. They become the parents, especially for small kids. Very, very few parents send their kids to boarding school because they’re impressed with the education and truly want to give their kids a better life.

Boarding is not required at many schools. Imagine being such an absent parent that you can’t handle your kids sleeping in their own beds at night.

But I’m sure that school is also a refuge for those with alcoholic parents…… and that happens across the board, too, except kids who aren’t in boarding school don’t get a break.

I take all this in from thousands of interactions I’ve had with people over the years, often standing on my dad’s platform as a community leader (his last church was about 1600 members, so not a small sample size). I also read a ton of books on self-help, emotional intimacy, and conflict resolution. I realize that autistic rage and burnout cannot go unmanaged if I’m ever going to live with someone else, even a roommate. That’s because in my next house, I’d like to be closer and actually run a household together rather than every man for himself.

I think Zac and I would be great at this, but there are two reasons why that can’t happen. The first is that he just got a roommate about a month or two ago, and the second is that he has a hard and fast rule that romantic partners cannot live with him. I love this, and I also know that he’s said it’s not a hard and fast rule if I’m only looking for a short-term (maybe two weeks) place to crash if I’m waiting on an apartment or room in another group house (my first choice).

I also wouldn’t want to put Zac out in any way, so it would be perfect if I could crash while he was somewhere else so it didn’t feel like we were living together. The only reason I even consider him being a roommate is that I’d love him whether we were dating or not, and I have that outlook on our relationship. That I don’t know what the future holds, but my platonic relationships run just as deep and I can’t imagine a life in which we’re not coming up with book ideas and flipping each other shit while we do it. So, what I really mean is that no matter how much time we spend together, it is always quality because we’re a lot of fun.

The only thing I’m really trying to convince him of is just how beautiful a human being he is. It is not a “falling in love” sort of feeling, but recognizing a kindred spirit. We’re neurodivergent, so we have the same sense of humor- e.g. “are you suggesting object permanence is a problem?” I said, “Peek-a-Boo, bitch.” I’m laughing now even as I type this, but I still can’t believe he let me get away with that one. I’m lucky in that he’s military, because there’s very little I could say in which he wouldn’t just roll with it. And the best thing is that if something I said crossed a line and actually hurt, he’d be emotionally strong enough to tell me that. And, of course, now since he knows my sense of humor better, his digs at me are getting better and better….. to the point where I can’t wait to see what happens as we get to know each other even better. I think he is as divine as everyone else, and I want him to believe it. I believe in him, both as military, intelligence, and fiction….. plus blogs. It was a kick to be written about, and an honor…….. and then there’s things like this.

He sent me a leftist cartoon where Jesus is at the southern border with all the Mexicans trying to cross, and I said someting theologically literate and flaming liberal. He said, “commie,” and water came out of my nose.

I think it’s great that he’s an Atheist and also not offended by the teachings of Christ in the way that I use them (his criticisms of conservative, white supremacy apologist theology is valid and appreciated. Leftists need to do better at beating this down.). Sometimes, when I use a theological device in my writing, he’ll ask me what the story is behind it because he knows that I like religious discourse as an academic subject and not in any way trying to change him. We both have different ways of being in this relationship, and that’s not wrong. 😉

And now we’ve arrived at our last road trip. I need to go out into Virginia and see what’s available. I don’t need to be closer to Zac, that would just be an added bonus. No, it’s more serious than that, and something I can’t let go publicly. I just need to get all my ducks in a row regarding health care because I would be losing a hell of a lot if I couldn’t get reciprocity.

So, if you are a praying sort of person, black magic or white, ponder how this trip might turn out and wish me good luck.

Or drive.