half bad
Sooooo...
Today I went to a youth group for queer kids downtown. Only problem is, I didn't tell my parents. (:o)
It was awesome. OK? Probably the best day of my whole bloody summer. It was so cool being around people like that, people who were comfortable in this place, who made me feel comfortable there too. Even if that was the only place some of them could be comfortable. (Even if I'm afraid it might be one of the only places I'll be comfortable.) It was still amazing.
And, even though it was completely awkward: 1.) Today's topic was The Sex Talk, complete with demonstrations. (Thank the FSM nobody brought a banana. I *heart* Death. She's adorable! To anyone who reads Neil Gaiman.) 2.) One of the guys doing *most* of the demonstrations is some kid who drew a penis on my butt last summer. (On my jeans. I had to patch them.) So, yeah. But it was fun. Plus there was really good macaroni. (Luckily I ate it *before* the Talk because I didn't have much of an appetite afterwards...)
But then afterwards sucked. My parents are total sexist paranoids: I can't stay out past sunset. (My twelve-year-old brother can. And NO, I do not have a history of going against them like this, before anyone asks. I am a good girl. Mostly. That they know about. I mean, I don't go around sneaking off with boys, do I? ;p) So, sunset is about 8:45 here. (Yeah, I live *that* far north.) Dark comes about 9, and most of the time if I get back by dark they're good. But, anyways, the program lasted til 8 and I didn't want to leave early. Actually, in all honesty I forgot. Problem: the last bus to my house leaves at 7:55, from 4 blocks away. After that, I have to go roundabout and take a different bus, which can get me to my house by 9:30.
(This is where I curse the crappy public transit system. I mean, last bus on a rather major route leaving at 8? Jesus.)
So, yeah, my parents are threatening to take away my bus pass 'cos I missed my curfew by half a bleeding hour. -.- (Don't they know that I can just pay 75 cents a ride? Smart ones.) Wonder what they'd have done if I told them the truth. Anyways, I said I was at the library, got lectured at for a year and a half, and am now officially under "watch"-- I have to tell them where I'm going to be, whenever. (A: as if I don't anyways, and B: what if my mom forgets like she always does? 0.o This is the problem with having parents who are members of AARP, Sexist, unreasonable, AND forgetful.)
I swear I'll tell them eventually. (Like they don't already know. My messenger bag, which I call my "gay bag" as opposed to "day bag", is completely covered in rainbow stickers and buttons and pockets. But the word refuses to show itself in my house, and my father constantly delivers his "I'd almost rather you came home with a girl than with [insert ugly and/or morally deficient guy here]." (Key here is the "almost", which does NOT fail to be anunciated.) But I can't when I've already fucked up other stuff. Like there won't be crap enough as it is.
But guess what?
(I'd do it again.)
~Lee