For Good

(Elphaba):
I’m limited
Just look at me – I’m limited
And just look at you
You can do all I couldn’t do, Glinda
So now it’s up to you
For both of us – now it’s up to you…

(Glinda):
I’ve heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true
But I know I’m who I am today
Because I knew you…

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You’ll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend…

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better?
But because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the things I’ve done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know
There’s blame to share

And none of it seems to matter anymore

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood

Who can say if I’ve been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better

And because I knew you…

Because I knew you…

Because I knew you…
I have been changed for good…

Song-“For Good” from the Musical Wicked

10 things I love about me 3

If you want to know about 10 things I love about me, go read here. Join in and share something you love about yourself, be it your phat ass or your amazing comedic timing.

I love my neck. Physically, I always thought it was a better quality. It’s long and slender and looks great with necklaces.

As a teenager, I had a group of friends who picked on me, telling me I had a giraffe neck. It never bothered me because I always thought my neck was elegant. Like, Anne Hathaway’s in The Princess Diaries. I was never uncomfortable with it, because I never saw it as unusually long. It was always just perfect to me.

Sorry this was short. Easter has killed braincells.

I kissed a girl and it wasn’t terrible.

On Wednesday, Virginia’s social services board voted to allow same-sex couples to adopt.

It lost 7-2.

Let me back up here and explain something. In Virginia, only married couples or single people (regardless of sexual orientation) can adopt. So, by default, gay couples are excluded. However, single people who want to adopt for a variety of reasons can.

That’s fine.

What I don’t understand is why we don’t allow unmarried couples of any type to adopt? If a couple has been together for 15 years, but isn’t married because; a) they can’t or b) they just don’t want to, and decide they want a child, why can’t they adopt if they so choose? Just because two people are not married, doesn’t mean they are any less dedicated. The state acknowledges a single parent’s ability to raise a child alone, why do they refuse to deny an unmarried couples ability to do the same?

Okay, for the sake of argument let’s put out there that if you’re unmarried, it’s easier to separate regardless of if children are involved or not. I don’t agree with that, as most people wouldn’t, but I know that’s how many people look at it, so let’s just put it on the table.

This leads me to ask, why do we not allow same-sex marriage? Can someone give me one really good reason?

Other than the fact that “God said it’s an abomination,” because I just don’t believe that. I’m pretty sure God also said “judge not lest ye be judged,” but a lot of people seem to forget that part.

I really don’t think it will destroy how sacred marriage is, considering 50% of all marriages end in divorce and there will be an affair 80% of the time in all marriages. Along with those numbers and the fact that it’s nearly impossible to put a number domestic abuse because so many cases go unreported, it’s safe to say marriage is hardly sacred. Let’s not forget to point out that if two gay men or women are allowed to marry, IT WON’T EFFECT YOUR CURRENT MARITAL STATUS AT ALL.

As a straight, married, mother of two gay marriage doesn’t make an impact on my life at all, except…

Except for the fact that not allowing gay marriage can make an impact on my life in years to come.

Let me break it down for you.

One in ten people identify themselves as homosexual. My parents have 15 grandchildren. I don’t like the number 15, so let’s just say that each of my parents’ children have one more child in their lifetime, that is 20 grandchildren. That means that there would (statistically) be two gay children in my family. It could be any variety of them, but it doesn’t matter. If one of my nephews wants to marry his partner of 5 years, then I really hope he asks for my help planning it because I have some great ideas involving silver hot pants for the wedding party and a drag queen named Daphne as the officiant. Or if Caitlin and her transgendered partner decide they want to have a baby, but want to adopt, I will be there wearing the gaudiest “Proud Grandma” sweater I can possibly find.

The important thing, to me, is the fact that they should have the opportunity to tell me to tone down my pride and excitement. They can’t do that if they aren’t legally allowed to even have those celebrations without leaving the state they live in. And it does bother me because I want nothing more for them to all be happy and proud of who they are. If society is telling them they are wrong for one reason or another, that does effect me. It does piss me off.

It doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to my marriage, but it does, potentially, make a difference to people who share the same blood as I do. I would rather any number of them be in a loving relationship with someone of the same-sex than to be hurt by infidelity or abuse, mentally, emotionally, or physically.

And that is something that is worth fighting for to me.

Tutu love

A few weeks ago, I mentioned on Twitter and Facebook that I desperately wanted a tutu for Caitlin’s Easter outfit, but all the ones I could find were slightly out of my price range. But I so wanted one.

When I thought all hope was lost for my tutu dreams, my BFF came through and told me there was someone out in Twenty-Nine Palms that makes them. As a birthday gift, she would provide the tutu.

I picked the colors and took waist measurements and hoped and prayed it would arrive in time. My mom got her a beautiful pink one, just in case something happened and it didn’t. But I desperately waited for the tutu from BFF.

On Monday, we got a package. And when we got inside and opened it? This happened…

The cute. It kills.


I think it’s hilarious that she recognizes she looks/feels like a princess when she wears it, even if she has no idea what a princess actually is.

I die from the cute.

WW: We went to the park-Caitlin

Puppy love

A first love at the age of nine.

Bronson.

He was Fonzie in a world of Potsies. I was his Pinky Tuscadero with a recurring role.

We really liked Happy Days.

He was sweet, funny and proud of his Italian roots; raised by a loving and gentle single father. He appreciated me for who I was. He was the only one who didn’t make fun of my impossible to pronounce name when I arrived in Virginia.

We were simply in love.

He took me on my first date, at the age of ten. Valentine’s Day dinner at Uno’s with his father and girlfriend. He arrived early in the day to give me my gift.

A ruby ring, my birthstone. Set in gold and way to big for my fingers. I don’t know if it was real or not, but it doesn’t matter. Never has, never will. It came in a velvet ring box and the gem shined like crystallized blood in the light; deep and dark. I remember my heart catching in my throat as we sat on my bed while I gingerly took the wrapping off, our parents watching with smiling faces from the door way. My face flushed with embarrassment at what I would have liked to have been a private moment. It was a bittersweet moment, we knew his time in our little world was running out. By the summer, he’d be gone. But we sat on the bed as I whispered words of gratitude to him.

After several moments that, in my memory, stretch out longer than a lifetime, his father collected him up to get ready for our date. When he returned to pick me up later that night, the ring was secured around my finger with sizers to insure it wouldn’t fall off. 13 years later, however, I’ve no idea what happened to it, lost in one move or another. I still will look through drawers from time to time when I go to my parents house, positive I would know it when I see it.

A reminder of the boy who taught  me what love is.Prompt: A memory of the color red without using the word “red”

10 things I love about me!

If you want to know about 10 things I love about me, go read here. Join in and share something you love about yourself, be it your phat ass or your amazing comedic timing.

I love my style. I love everything about my style.

It’s comfortable.

It’s not outrageous.

It’s sassy and sexy sometimes.

It’s rock and punk at others.

Sometimes it’s high school prep.

Whatever it is that day, I love it.

I love changing what I’m into from season to season. Long sleeve, button downs with a comfy pair of jeans.

A sexy, magical pink dress that fits me as perfectly pregnant as it does empty womb.

It’s a pair of high heels, or a pair of Converse. Or multiple pairs of flip flops from March until November.

It’s lots of nail polish and a little bit of eyeliner.

It’s me.

I had pictures, but I somehow deleted them in the transfer to my computer. Boo. But you get the picture. Anyway…

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