A wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of a person’s life, a carefully crafted day of her choosing, or so I’ve heard. We married yesterday because we didn’t dare wait until our anniversary in February, because of the ballot measure.
No matter how amusing a pun may be, I’m trying to teach her, to paraphrase Joanna Russ, not to laugh at the sight of her own blood.
was out today doing everyday things. Forking over money for car repairs, trying to find clothes my son will wear that don’t cost an arm and a leg, making lists for our family vacation, savoring a nice cup of coffee, that sort of thing, when I saw this vehicle parked all on its own. Obviously, it wasn’t from around these parts.
In the mid-afternoon light the lake was blue with dazzling sparkles; by late afternoon the water had shaded to jade and sparkles went away.
Watch out world, because the little girls in this generation are making their own rules. About everything.
That’s why people who took up Nova’s Marathon training challenge got incredibly fit, but only one participant lost weight.
After doing everything right, nothing works. The frustrating rewards of seeking health through nutrition and exercise.
Real life isn’t just a humorous anecdote or two, however, and there were moments when I might have felt sorry for myself because basically the whole “holiday” week was devoted to One Thing After Another.
I’ve got green eyes to protect me from pinches (or so I’ve claimed every March 17 for many years), and my daughter is well equipped with green leggings, shamrocks on her shirt and a green hat to avoid pinches. My son will wear a green hoodie while claiming he was going to wear that anyway. I’ve got less Irish blood in me than I do Native American, but it’s St. Paddy’s Day, and today I’m Irish! Erin go bragh!
I did my part: we got back to the car and it was milkshakes for everybody!
I’m not surprised by searches like “lesbian romance books” or “lesbian erotica lesbian romance” or even “night vision embrace painted” – that sounded like a reader who couldn’t for the life of her remember how to spell my name.
So, fellow Rats, let’s party while we can. Gung hay fat choy! “May you become prosperous!”
So, if you want your mail to get through, be sure not to use “erectile” or “manhood” in the subject or the body of the e-mail.
The women who wrote said those themes in the book spoke to them–and they liked the story, too! Romance is romance, after all, and in a lesbian romance you get double the love from the female point of view.
I refuse to be goaded into setting aside my positive choice and agenda about my lesbian identity and community in order to support hers.
How could bookstore clerks suggest me to customers if they couldn’t say my name, I reasoned. So I suggested a phonetic compromise: Kallmaker.