Equality Day

Today was Marriage Equality Day. I made Noah come with me and we drove down to Olympia for a rally sponsored by Equal Rights Washington. I was also hoping to meet with my legislators, but we got there a little late and so we didn’t get to do that part. But all in all, it was a good day – the sun was out, I got to spend some time with my teenager, and I felt good expressing my opinion about a cause that really matters to me.

I thought a lot about my friend/”uncle” Donald today. Way back when – gosh, like 20 or 21 years ago, he first exposed me to the world of homos. I remember him coming to visit us in Maryland because he was going to a display of the AIDS quilt and then going to a protest, I think with ACT UP. He and my mom talked about jello molds and he told us that he knew exactly what to bring the day of the protest in case he got arrested. We went to see him at the AIDS quilt, and that was really my first taste of social issues. I really couldn’t understand why people would be discriminated against because they were sick. I worked a couple of AIDS quilts after that. I remember one year, I had a panel in my section that had been covered up by the family of the person named. They were embarrassed and didn’t want people to know their son had been gay and died of AIDS. Sad. Donald has been gone almost 11 years now.

Years later, I still can’t wrap my head around the idea that in 2009, people are still discriminated against because of who they fall in love with or more specifically, what they do in the bedroom. Who cares? Would any of us want to be judged by the same token? I’m guessing no (if so, Bret Michaels is in a world of hurt). It’s so ridiculous. My neighbors down the street have been together as long as my husband and I have been. Is their relationship any less significant than mine, because I have the legal piece of paper and they don’t? No.

If I do nothing else as a parent, it will be to try and teach my kids that skin color doesn’t matter. Religious affiliation doesn’t matter. And sexual orientation doesn’t matter. Everyone deserves respect. We the people means ALL the people, doesn’t it? Our forefather didn’t say – “except those boys who kiss other boys. “

OK, soapbox put away now. :)

Here’s a funny Noah story. Just recently, he has discovered ‘80s music, and thinks it’s really cool. All of a sudden, I’m hip because I have Def Leppard CDs, and I’ve seen Depeche Mode in person and oh my god in heaven, I have a CD with “Jessie’s Girl” on it. We had to play said song all the way home from Olympia today, with Noah singing all the words he knows. This consists of sporadic phrases like “she’s lovin’ him with that body, I just know it” and “I want, I want Jessie’s girl.” Picture complete quiet, except for the song, and then Noah busting out those parts. Whoa.

The magical mathematical mystery

Probably much to the dismay of my dad (an electrical engineer), math has never been my strong suit. I’m not ashamed to admit that I need a calculator to figure out my age (okay, not really, but only because my current age ends in a zero). Usually math works against me - geometry gave me the only D I ever got in my entire high school career (I mean really – who needs to know what a parallelogram is anyway – do you ever see one in real life? When's the last time you had to calculate the linear term of an equation? I rest my case.) Or, like when I step on the scale – those are not friendly numbers.

But today, math gave me a gift. I found out that the distance I thought I was running was really almost double what I originally calculated!! That’s right homies – I thought one lap around my block was 1/8 of a mile, but turns out it’s almost ¼ of a mile! I don’t need a stinkin’ calculator to tell me that for the last four weeks, I’ve actually been walking/running TWICE what I originally thought! So when I was getting discouraged because all I could run consistently was that 1/8th of a mile, I was really running double that. No wonder my poor legs were like “hey bitch, pull over!” This puts me over my initial goal for the end of February and means that I can walk/run over half of the distance I need to do in the triathlon.

Now don’t get me wrong, I still need to work desperately on running a longer, consistent distance. But given that this is the most exercise I’ve done in a good ten years, I have to say, I’m proud of that number. And this comes at a good time. A couple days ago, I had my first serious crisis of faith. My legs just would not run. It’s like they decided to go on strike. I came in that night seriously defeated and I will admit, there were some tears. I had some doubts about whether or not I could do this. But I regrouped. I may be lots of things, but I am not a quitter!

The next night, I went back out. Lucky for me, we were having a windstorm which meant that every time I tried to run down my side of the street, I was blown backwards. The last thing I need is MORE resistance. I’ve got enough natural resistance right now. So I had to settle for running down one side of the street and walking up the other. It’s all good though.

Tonight, Mother Nature has dealt me a cruel joke in the form of daylight savings time. Unless I want to wait until 10:00 to run, I will have to start doing it without my security blanket of darkness. Oh well, I’ll strap on both bras (regular and ass - AKA compression shorts) and hit the road.

This week I also added swimming, and for the last two weeks I’ve been biking. When I get off the bike, I feel like I’ve been riding a horse. I would say my crotch hurts, but my friend Jesse has informed me that the correct terminology is to say my “saddle” hurts. Anyway you say it, it ain’t good. Thank god for padded bike shorts (worn underneath the workout pants). I'm really trying to earn a new, road bike - I have my eye on one that matches my bike helmet.

A side note – as I work on this, I’m listening to the Bret Michaels Rock of Love episode I missed from last week. I think I just heard the best line ever in any TV show in history – “I specifically asked you guys NOT to be slutty or whorry.” That’s awesome. I wonder who I can say that to this coming week. Too bad performance reviews are done at work – that would have been good peer feedback to give someone. AHAHAHAHA – I crack myself up.

But I digress.

Twin story of the week – the other day, Hannah decided to go through her stuffed animals. I asked her what she was doing and she said “Mama, I’m just looking at my toys. They remind me of olden days.” Maybe we'll send some of the discarded animals to cousin Pat and cousin Gabe.

And yes, I do have Noah stories too. I will share next time.

Compton, out!