I grated my own finger today. Top news. I'll be ok thanks. Is this cannibalism?
Not much else to report today.
It is now tomorrow. That was literally all I wrote on Wednesday. I'm supposed to be in Milan right now. At design week. Instead I'm on hold with Ryanair. I'm also using their 'chat bot' at the same time. I applied for my refund a month ago. I received an email from them today saying my refund had somehow become a voucher. Now they're waiting for me to give up. Abandon my efforts and let them take my money. They don't know me. Because I will not let this one pass.
Supposed to be at this spa today that gives out free prosecco and snacks after 5pm. Instead, I'm in my living room. Listening to the contempo-casual soundtrack of Ryanair holding a gun to my head for €151. It's like a country style guitar melody with electronic wind chimes. It's so cheerful. But horrifying at the same time. It's now the soundtrack to my day. A horrifying cheerful ditty trying to take my money. Eventually got through. I did feel for the poor girl on the phone to me. She blazes through her script. I won't get a cash refund until the crisis ends, she cheerfully tells me. But! I'm welcome to use my voucher between now and then! On all the trips we can plan right now! *Shakes fist at sky*
It was a busy day in the working from home webinar world. We were hosting a webinar for 90 people with 7 speakers! It all went suspiciously well. Must be all that preparation we forced them to do. We also had a live stream of a competition final on YouTube. Was supposed to happen in a cinema. So sad. Miss cinemas.
But on to my real virtual world, where I am hosting a quiz this evening! My first! As I have no useful knowledge I have tailored all rounds to suit my high brow needs. Including extra points for outfits! And head-wear! I will run through topics such as DIVAS, 90's music and a picture round. It's nice to have an evening plan! Makes me feel like a human person. Very different from me being prosecco drunk in a whirlpool in Italy, but I'll take what I can get.
It's also lesbian visibility week, that is when us lesbians become un-invisible. I know you've never seen me before but now is your week!
I was actually kinda invisible to myself for a long time. I didn't realise I was a lesbian really until I was about 25. Although I liked kissing girls, I dated men. Well, boys. Pretty, lovely boys, with long eyelashes and full lips and heartshaped faces. A clue there. I did not notice.
How did I not notice? I did everything a classical lesbian would do. I had really intense dramatic earth shattering friendships! With girls! Two of which included actual breakups, now that I think of it. I was dumped, obv. Twice! Listened to Tori Amos, Ani DiFranco, Fiona Apple. Watched Buffy so obsessively that I used to sing the musical whenever I got drunk (still do, sometimes). Favourite movies were Fried Green Tomatoes and a League of their own. The gayest gay lady movies ever! My crushes; Jared Leto. And I didn't realise it at the time, but definitely Amerie and Natalie Imbruglia too. I even bought their singles on CD. HOW did I not know?
It took some time. And a lot of messing, until I knew that women were just more exciting for me. More beautiful. More mesmerising. They consumed my mind more. And that fascination started to give me clues. Along with those feeling things that started popping up. It was only then that I committed to lesbian content. I bought a book because Oprah had a woman on her show. She was talking about how most women are bisexual on it. Anne Heche was there! The book was called Sexual Fluidity. It was actually a pretty boring book. I still have it. Yet to finish. I then started dedicating myself to the lesbian cause. I ploughed through the L Word. Every single terrible horrible awful lesbian movie ever made. Only decent one was Imagine Me&You, a British rom-com with Cersei Lannister. This was now my thing. My secret thing that nobody knew. (Except, obviously, everyone, apart from me and my Dad.)
I remember when I came out to my Dad. I wrote him a letter. A long sweeping passionate one, about my mother, about the love and support my (now wife) wrapped me in when my mam died. It was to coincide with the Yes Equality vote. I wanted to make sure he voted for me. He texted back saying: "I'm disappointed you're not going to marry a man." He then called me to ask me if I liked his response! He's a funny fish. Later we met for lunch and he said "BUT YOU LOVED BRAD PITT!" He meant well though. And sang so beautifully at our wedding. He now asks for wife all the time in his weekly texts. Took us both some time to get over Brad, I guess.
I never came out to my mom. And I'm not sure why I didn't. There were a million opportunities. And in hindsight, I know now that she was trying to encourage me to tell her. I remember curating a queer exhibition, and she said "why would they ask you to curate a queer exhibition?"
There was another, much gentler conversation. She asked me for advice on one of her friends. Her friend wasn't happy about a gay relationship her daughter was in. My mom couldn't understand it and wanted to know what to say. She asked me if I had many lesbian friends and if I had any advice for her. She went on to say that if it was her child she wouldn't care. As long as they were happy and their mental health was ok. She was practically spoon feeding me my coming out story. With little aeroplane noises! But I was a coward again, I told myself it was because she was sick. She was on chemo at the time. We were chatting in her bed. Where I'd sit with her while she recovered. Her little face swollen from steroids, peering over some glasses. Stacks of books and newspapers piling up at her bedside. A faint scent of Anais Anais perfume. I don't remember what I said, something like, explain it to her that way? Anyway, I did some form of unmemorable deflection. I excused myself then for a moment. I sat on my little single bed in the back room. The same bed where I'd secretly watched all this gay content for hours on end. And I wept. It was a happy cry though. A cry of acceptance. See, though I was invisible to myself for a long time, I was never invisible to her. And, in that moment, I knew that.
It's mad that it's nearly 7 years since I've seen her. I wish she could see my big happy lesbian life now. But instead, I'm putting it on the internet for you to read. How embarrassing! Wonder if she'd read my blog. She would I'd say. She was very supportive. I miss her.
Anyway, there's a bit of meandery story about my own lesbian visibility to myself. It took me a while, but it's good out here being seen. Would be better to be in Milan at a spa, but again, I WILL GET THAT REFUND RYANAIR IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DOOOOOOOOOOO.
x
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