family
Thanksgiving – Thank God it is only once a year
I love my family – screwed up as they are. I just thank my lucky stars I only have to do this once a year. I come from an old southern family – the type of family that is the thing of stereotypes. If there is something that isn’t popular, that we don’t like, we just pretend it doesn’t exist. Denial in my family is a way of life.
Our Thanksgiving history is the stuff of legends. Things like my brother dropping out of his Ph.D program to become a vacumn cleaner salesman (first of two), my brother announcing he had dropped out of a second Ph.D program to breed rats in a lab, mom and dad announcing their intent to build a new house so mom could live with her girlfriend, grandma going for a naked stroll through the hospital, friend Becky asking to pass the gravy and for a side of sperm (her and her girlfriend wanted to have a baby), dad shooting a hole through the side of the house thinking I was a burglar, my brother announcing he was getting married to a woman from the Philippines he had met at a conference years before (not only had the family not met her, but she was a catholic – it nearly killed my grandmother), cousin Terry (fundamentalist side of the family) walking in on me making out with my boyfriend, and my parents walking in on me groping a male nurse at the hospital.
These are the Hallmark moments that mark our family holidays. It is no wonder we all hate this f**king holiday. Typically we just have the meal catered and try to get it over with as quick as possible. But something convinced my mother that we need to prepare the meal this year – or as will happen that I need to prepare the meal. You see, my mom can’t even heat a can of soup without burning it (Martha Stewart she isn’t). I am the only one that actually cooks (I learned out of necessity when I was a child), so I will drag myself in Wednesday evening and start slaving over the kitchen to prep the meal for Thursday – weeee, what fun.
I already know that my mom’s girlfriend is bringing her son (he just got out of prison AGAIN) and the local family gossip is that my father has a new girlfriend that he is planning on introducing. Hopefully this won’t be another for the record books, but it is already shaping up to be. I wonder if I can come up with an excuse not to go between now and tomorrow morning.
Back from the digital grave
Here we go again. Digitial Fairy . com has been revived from the digital graveyard. After looking at the Internet wayback machine, it seems about appropriate for timing – more than a year has passed. My pattern has been like this for years – revive the site, be diligent with updates, find something else to do and then fully stop. At this point we must take a major break (a little break would just be so cliche, so I have to do it in a big way). Can you tell I am a firm believer in the fashionably late mantra. Well, it seems like it was time to revive the site once more. Gawd, there is so much that I need to catch everyone up on – hopefully this will stop all the midnight phone calls wondering what was going on. How sad that my life has turned to midnight update calls instead of midnight booty calls (not that I am some kind of easy queen or anything).
Right now, all the things I need to catch up on are running through my brain. My move to Richmond (Indiana), the now ex (2 1/2 years together), the attack of the flying dildo, my former boss going exorcist on us (thus why I moved), the fast growing nephews, my god-daughter, all the fun family drama that reminds you how normal your family is, life, work, fun, and everything in between. I really was gone a long time.
A Holiday with Feeling
*Classic Fairy retrieved from the Internet Archive originally published 11/29/2004
For years I have been a spectator for the drama that is my family’s Thanksgiving holiday. Some of our more memorable moments include my brother announcing he dropped out of a PhD program in Biochemistry to sell vacuum cleaners (he managed to sell one before he quit – to himself). My parent’s announcing they were going to build a new house so that my mom and her girlfriend could live together (my father on an entirely separate floor from them). One of my best-friends asking me to donate sperm for her and her partner to have a child – while subtly asking someone to pass the gravy. Then two years ago, my grandmother (who has Alzheimer’s) deciding to go on a naked stroll through the hospital. But not to be outdone by my family, I decided to join in on the drama this year – well at least not intentionally.
No, I didn’t come out to them – I did that many, many years ago (I waited till Father’s day for my dad – I wanted to make sure it was memorable for him). Instead, I spent my holiday in the emergency room (a massive infection, I’ll spare you the details). But you see, that wasn’t the drama. The drama came when the nurses were testing the dosage for pain killers (to stop the pain the infection caused).
There is a little thing about me that my close friends all know and realize. I have a VERY strong sex drive and can be a little bit of a slut (okay a big slut) when I don’t keep myself in check – basically I will hit on anything with a dick. I generally keep my hormones in check by the logical side of my brain, but when I drink or in this case am given painkillers all bets are off.
One of the nurses on duty at the hospital was an old friend of mine, and knew this reality. I am still trying to decide if she came to watch after me, or to watch the show. You see, she was supervising the male nurse who was responsible for giving me the test dose – first mistake. When they came in she gave me a hug and told me what they were going to be doing (basically figuring out just how much was enough without being too much). The sad thing is, I can remember most of what happened. After the first dose, I became a little more chatty – though still in pain.
Now is when the drama begins, after about ten minutes they gave me another small dose, as it was starting to kick in, I began discussing how nice the male nurses eyes were and how his ass looked in his scrubs – still in pain. The third dose now begins to kick in, the male nurse who was now sitting on a chair in front of me was looking in the other direction, without thinking about it I begin to massage his shoulders – still in pain. The fourth small dose, the nurse now standing was in close proximity when this dose began to kick in, my reaction to grab and fondle his ass – still pain, plus mental note he didn’t seem to mind.
The fifth dose was the part that will go down in family history. By this point, I was still feeling some pain, but it wasn’t the only thing I was feeling. Denise (the female nurse / so-called friend of mine) was standing in the corner trying not to laugh, while I am busy with my own activity – feeling up my male nurse. By the bulge in his pants, I could tell he didn’t mind at all, when here opens the door with both of my parents standing in the doorway. My father immediately turns and leaves, while my mother manages to utter something to the effect of “you seem to be feeling better” before turning and closing the door. Denise is doubled over laughing and the male nurse has this look of shock on his face. Then there is me, half glazed look on my face and still fondling the nurse and still in a little pain. The nurse finally backs into the corner and hands “my treatment” to Denise. My sixth and final shot begins to kick in and Denise asks if I feel anything. My response, to her was something about there being one thing I wouldn’t mind getting a better feel of – as I stare at the male nurse, the bulge in his pants, and the slight wet spot that has formed.
As is natural for my family, everyone lives in a state of denial. My parents didn’t make even one comment about me fondling the nurse; instead, they decided to comment on how beautiful all the holiday lights were as we drove home. The next day Denise called to “check up” on me – but more specifically to tell me everything I had done. I told her I could remember almost everything, but the guy’s name. She told me that his name was Richard, but that everyone called him “Little Dicky” as he was kinda short – and clearly with the painkillers talking, I responded that I could definitely attest to the fact that there was nothing little about Dick. Mental note, call Denise and get his number (if he’s single) maybe “lil’ dicky” can be my holiday present – if I he turns out to be a “pain” in the ass, hopefully it will be the good kind.
Confessions of an Addict
*Another saved by the Internet Archive. Originally from March 20, 2002
HI! My name is Digital Fairy and I am an addict
Ever since I was a child I have had a terrible addiction – I try to resist, but the need grows and grows and the impulses and desires become ever more severe, until … until … I would do anything to shop. YES! I CONFESS, I AM ADDICTED TO SHOPPING, I AM A SHOPAHOLIC!
What you thought I was going to say that I was some sort of crack or heroin addict. Please, I have too much self-respect – and fashion sense for that.
I come from a family of hunters – Dad and Brother hunt animals, Mom and I hunt bargains. Every year from birth till 18, every time a hunting season came around Mom and I would head out for a day of shopping – we were always much more successful hunters than my father and brother (Why did we do this? Well, I refused to kill Bambi’s mother and would call my father a murderer for weeks if I saw a dead animal, and my mother wanted to piss my father off). That is where my addiction began and it became more serious with each passing day.
What made me decide to come out – I realized that I just spent $1000.00 on stuff I didn’t really need in the course of a couple hours at auction sites – $1000.00 that I didn’t really have in the first place to spend. (I am such an impulse shopper!)
I know, $1000.00 doesn’t sound that bad, but that is not my biggest shopping excursion. The most I spent in one day $8000.00, but that was a long time ago – basically I don’t have that much money to spend. (Though in truth my biggest one day total was the check I wrote to buy my car $21,800 – I still remember writing – mainly because of the looks that I got having paid for a new car with a check – but that one I do not count as someone else gave me the money). But anyway, I digress.
Last night I decided to buy a new computer, don’t ask me why, I have 2 in my office and 3 in my apartment, not to mention my laptop – so I did not need another one. Why a new computer? Well, I decided that I am going to install Linux again (that is another story for another time), and I was in a lazy mood – too lazy to be bothered with transferring files off one of the old PC’s (that is pretty damn lazy). So I went shopping at the online-auction sites – settling on Ubid (Bear in mind that, I went shopping for a computer and only a computer, I have monitors and other things running out my ass).
So my little auction excursion. I decided that I didn’t want to spend much as I really want a big screen TV (another waste in a small apartment – don’t get me started, Hell crack would be cheaper than my shopping habit). So I go on and found what I considered to be a great deal an AMD Athlon 1.2GHz with 384MB RAM, a 40GB Hard drive, CD-RW drive, Network card, modem, etc… all for around $400.00 including overnight shipping. Perfect for a little Linux workstation to play around on. But was I satisfied with that no, I decided to look around and see what else they had. All in all, I ended up buying that computer, a new folding keyboard for my Palm Vx (including shipping only $25.00), and a 21-inch monitor for the computer I do not really need (including overnight shipping less than $200.00). What can I say, I learned the secret to on-line auction sites like Ubid, a willingness to stay up into the wee hours of the morning to get a good deal – you know that time of day when normal people are asleep.
I know what you are thinking, “but that is only $625.00 you said over $1000.00.” That I did and that I spent. As I am sure you know you have to really watch an auction to make sure you get the item, so what do you do while you wait. Well that is easy, to add insult to financial injury, you go to Amazon the one place you know will have everything you want and don’t really need. I started browsing and saw a DVD here, a book there, a game for my Gamecube, etc… until when I checked out the bill was $445.62 yes folks that is addition for you.
Oh well, I get paid next week. At least I can pay off what I just spent. Now, I wonder what size of big screen to buy?
Closed Minds, Closed Hearts, Closed Doors
*Another classic entry copied over from the Internet Archive
I went to church yesterday. (Yes, I do go occasionally.) I grew up United Methodist and today’s sermon struck me as immensely ironic. I have a history at that church of getting up during the sermon and debating with ministers, but I held my tongue today as there were about 60 guests today and I didn’t want to make a scene. Plus, our minister gets nervous when the congregation gets large so me getting up and debating with him would have probably made him lose it.
If you watch television you have likely seen the United Methodist commercials, the “Open Minds, Open Hearts, Open Doors” – some of them are actually quite good. Well, the commercials talk about different aspects including diversity and how Methodists are open to all diversity – including one with a woman saying that none of us are qualified to judge. The commercials are to an extent misleading given the facts of the past few years. While it is true that Gay and Lesbians are welcome as members of the UMC by the articles, there are many aspects that we are not technically welcome in or treated equally. For example, you can not be openly GLBT and serve as a minister – nor can a commitment ceremony be officiated by a UMC minister, so it is not an equal environment and the commercials are somewhat misleading. I will say though that the UMC is loosely structured and individual churches do have a great deal of say so ultimately more progressive churches will move us forward. Unfortunately, I don’t think it will be mine that does it – there is a very delicate balance at our church and often the balance is maintained by my family and family friends as we have the balance control of the church committees.
But what is the point of this (there is method to my madness – now on to the sermon). The sermon listed in the bulletin was about family and loved ones, but the sermon he ultimately gave was a fire and brimstone type of sermon. The basic sermon was on how we have abandoned God and that in fact our tolerance of diversity and difference is what is bringing America into chaos. He went on about how the fact that we do not actively pursue non-members (harass them into the fold) is actually something that will result in sending us to hell. He preached about sex and sexuality and how we have lost the values of God. And he stood there and spewed statistics and so-called facts that were blatantly wrong. Basically for over 30 minutes he went on and on about this, with each second of it making me more and more irate. The only joy that I got was the fact that I take care of the sound system at the church so I just kept tinkering with it and making it squeal and squeak – just to distract him and throw off his sermon. But the reality is what the hell has happened to the church I knew. I grew up with the philosophy and ideology that God was a God of love, that everyone was his/her/its children and that went opposite of everything in that sermon. Additionally, I was always taught that diversity and differences were what gave character to a congregation – not so if he is to be believed. The reality is that the sermon was nothing more than conservative propaganda that served to promote intolerance within the congregation. I do have to say that he is a young minister (under 25) and that in fact he comes from a Baptist background and thus ideologically does have some issues.
Another little irony is that when he arrived most of the church thought that he and I would become close friends as I am basically the only one active in the church that is around his age. Let me tell you, he barely speaks to me – it is very clear that he is uncomfortable around me because I speak my mind and don’t care if he doesn’t agree with me (I don’t think he knows that I am gay).
Oh well, I am sure that no one really cares, but I needed to vent.
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