some things that have happened lately

I said goodbye to this guy, who'll be out of town for the next year.

I got my hair braided, and now look remarkably like Melissa Harris-Perry.

I invited the rest of my fantasy league over to watch the Packers stomp the Redskins.

My kid sister obviously cheered with me. 

Although some of my friends didn't take the loss too hard.

And I went to the Maryland State Wine Festival with a bunch of my sorority sisters.

There's never been enough of us all together at once to take a black Phi Alph photo - so exciting!

The Fall 2003 pledge class Guthrie and I oversaw.

So good things are happening. Very good things. Just not my dissertation.

What'd the five fingers say to the face?

SLAP. 

I love her and all, but if I have to listen to her sing "Where Do Broken Hearts Go" into this lighter-microphone and call back, "Whitney, somebody lied to you!" 

ONE. 

MORE. 

TIME. 

I'm gonna go slap him myself. 

oh, this desert life, the high life

Sorry no recent posts. I've been living the good life with some of my sorority sisters at one's family lake house in New Jersey. This is what dreams are made of. 

Here's some photos in lieu of words:

Lake Arcadia

Guthrie is totally over this sparkletini

Tasha and Milo

My not so secret guilty pleasure. I ate three bags this weekend. 

We're gonna take the same exact photo every year. Can't wait for next year. 

two conversations, twenty four hours

On poor timing:

Me: Hey, where's your going away party tomorrow?

Friend: It's tonight. Right now.

On elderly neighbors and their adult grandchildren:

Me: Is Mr. B OK? There was just an ambulance in front of his house. 

Neighbor's Son: Oh, that wasn't for Mr. B. That was for his grandson. He passed out or something.

Me: Oh, man. Well I'm glad it wasn't Mr. B again. I know an ambulance came by and took him to the hospital a few weeks ago.

NS: No, that was for his grandson, too.

Me: What happened? Does he have some kind of health problem?

NS: Mr. B stabbed him.

Me: I'm sorry, what?

NS: He got drunk and started swinging on Mr. B, and the old man stabbed him.

Me: How do you know that?

NS: Because he walked up to our house that night covered in blood, knocked on the door, and asked, "Do you have a cigarette?" I mean, I know that panicking makes you bleed to death faster, but dude took not panicking to the extreme. "Can I have a cigarette?" Yeah, man. You can have an ambulance, too.

In conclusion, A) I'm an idiot, B) our next door neighbor has hilarious kids, and C) never swing on sweet old Mr. B.

one last time for marriage equality

From my friend, Mark, on marriage equality and tomorrow's election: Like he said.

As tomorrow is voting day, understanding that neither candidate has the immediate fix to our financial situation and both are likely making false promises. Vote for the candidate that supports the Phrase: "Every man is created equal."

As you all know this past July, my partner and best friend of 12 years took his own life. After receiving the most disheartening letter of my entire life. I called the turnpike commission and the police to notify them of the incident that was taking place. The first call I was told "because he is a missing person, file a missing persons report".

The second call, I was told I would have to contact his "family" to have an answer.

I learned that Adam had passed from the PA Turnpike's website posted that there was an accident at the same mile marker he indicated he would be taking his life. Not knowing fully if he was dead, the police called me to ask for his parents phone number and address "IN CASE" they needed to notify someone. I was repeated asked if he was alive or dead, which I wasn't given an answer. As the minutes passed an officer came to my door and asked again for his parents address. I knew then, and I told them I would not tell them until they confirmed..

I was not family.

12 years, we owned a home together, cars, bank accounts, began an adoption process, survived the trials and tribulations that most couples do, but because of laws that promote discrimination, I was not allowed to know.

It is my wish that everyone is equal. That my partnership impacted no one else, nor impeded on anyone's right to live or practice their religion.

This is not a fake internet story. This is my story. Please vote for the candidate, vote for all candidates that promote being equal. You are no better than me, as I am not better than you.

Vote Obama at the polls this election day. 

Like he said.

on Maryland's Question 6

I'm going to say this early, since Maryland has early voting.

This summer, my friend Adam committed suicide by walking into highway traffic. Mark, his partner of 12 years, received his goodbye email, and immediately notified highway patrol. As Mark called the police over and over in hopes that they'd found Adam in time, they refused to release any information to him, even though he'd alerted them - he wasn't "family." Mark finally learned that he had succeeded in taking his own life from the Pennsylvania Turnpike Web site, which reported the accident. As plans were made for a memorial service, Adam's mother listed her son's partner in the obituary - as his brother. And thankfully, Adam had secretly transferred his savings into their joint account, because Mark was not able to inherit it.

This is what the current law allows - for long-term, same-sex partners like my friend to be denied basic courtesies during what is already the most difficult time of his life. Is that something that you really support?

If your answer is no, vote YES on Question 6. Voting YES doesn't require you to change your religious beliefs or traditional values, only that you show a little compassion for your neighbors, regardless of whether they share your beliefs. That's a value as old as time itself.

the big HR department in the sky

I've been applying for jobs in the D.C. area since June 2nd, the day I got home.

My friend Adam was an HR recruiter, and after reviewing my resume and cover letter, sent me a new template just before he died. I sent in my resume and cover letter, for the first time updated to his specifications, at 4am Tuesday morning.

Fifteen minutes ago, I got my first callback for an interview. For the job I applied for Tuesday.

Thank you, Adam, for looking out for me from the big HR department in the sky. Tell my grandmothers hello for me.

goodbye, Adam

This afternoon, one of my best and first friends from college pulled his car over to the side of the highway, posted "Wishes everyone the best" on Facebook, then got out, walked into oncoming traffic and was killed.

No. Killed himself.

The phone calls started coming in just after I'd returned home from a memorial service - for a friend's fiancee who hung herself.

Today is a difficult day.

But instead of dwelling on that, some memories of Adam. He was one of the first people I met at Western Maryland: one night at fourth meal in the pub (our after-hours on-campus food spot), I overheard him spouting off some of the most vile libertarian nonsense my naive, innocent little eighteen year old brain had ever encountered. I marched over and countered with Bible verses, and left in tears. He called me (maybe just sought me out in person? it was 12 years ago) and apologized  - he was sorry I was so sensitive. I told him he was the worst person I'd ever met. He kept seeking me out, because he'd never met anyone as odd as me and I amused him. I continued to oblige, thinking that one day I'd be able to change his politics and his heart.

He came out to me not too long after that. He was the first gay person I'd ever known. My first Republican friend. My first Jewish friend. My first atheist friend. My introduction to the ways of the world. I was so ignorant that he eventually found it necessary to give me female anatomy lessons - on his (ahem) "pocket pal." He was the one who explained the mechanics of sex to clueless me. I watched him doctor his birth certificate to say that he was 21 so he could have a real ID to buy liquor with - and it worked. We ran for student council together on a slate with just the two of us - him for freshman class president and me for rep - and ran an all-chalk campaign; he lost, but my distinctive purple hair helped me win. We played terrible, cruel pranks (his idea) on his roommate, and fought over then-candidate George W. Bush. We called his new boyfriend - who he is still with today - "Rebecca," so that he wouldn't be thrown out of ROTC. His dorm window was directly across from mine, and we would shout across the parking lot to say good night. He always let me borrow his fancy new sneakers, since we wore the same shoe size. He pledged the same fraternity at the same time as my other guy friends, and through my boys, I met my college boyfriend, who was their pledge brother. Adam lived down the hall from me sophomore year, and we regularly had sleepovers and played Worms (remember that game? he always won). I was with him the morning of September 11th, and he cursed at the screen while I cried. We skipped our political science class together that day and went to Baltimore to donate blood.

Over time, he made me tougher and more world-wise; I helped make him gentler, and yes - eventually even a liberal.

I saw him in person on July 5th, for the first time since some pre-New Orleans homecoming. We met for lunch right after I picked my husband up from the Appalachian Trail. Adam was happy, smiling, bored with work, but doing well. He paid for our lunch. Adam and I both went to the bathroom on our way out, and he stopped me at the door to hug me and say, "In case one of us finishes first and I don't see you when you walk to the car, I love you." It took me by surprise, because he'd never really been demonstrative. And now that's the last thing he said to me.

I'm glad I told him I love him, too. I'm so angry at you, but I'll miss you, Weiner. I will miss you so much.