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email me: lindseysmo (at) gmail (dot) com


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A person of pervasive landscapes. I have an unnatural relationship with Kellog's Frosted MiniWheats. I'm addicted to coffee. Nice people turn me on. I always wet my toothbrush before using it. I paint, take pictures and love anything art related. I don't know how it happened, but I woke up one morning and fell in love with blogging. I'm a bad-ass until I see a cockroach. I love all things water sports. I'd rather die than live without music, books or Rhonda. TiVo is my homeboy. I have Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome. I like to paint naked. There aren't many things greater than sliding into home plate. I have a dog named, "Sugar;" and Mondays are all about her. I am desperately trying to keep the one plant in our house alive. My brother doesn't know how to spell my name. I twitch when people use the contraction "there's" followed by a plural noun. I reserve the right to type as many run-on sentences as I damn, well please. I'm a sucker for a good panoramic view. Snow is pretty but I'd rather be at the beach. I want to meet Hugh Hefner. I love travel. I hate the mundane. I live a kick-ass life. I dance in public. I have a mole under my right boob. I have a great memory but I'm bad with names. I am obsessed with organizing. The Container Store is my Disney World. JPG Magazine is my porn. I love to vacuum. I hate doing my hair. Being a grown-up is totally overrated. Making out is the best thing in the world... better than sliding into home plate.

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Whenever I have a scheduled medical procedure, albeit for something chronic illness related or for whatever ligament I tore this time, throwing my body at the ground in a grand attempt to stop a speeding softball and/or win the hearts of the fans in the bleachers.  I always pause while filling out the requisite paperwork, completely halted at the demand for marital status.

Check one:



Legally, I’m well aware of my status.  And as such, I inevitably mark a bold, uncomfortable ‘x’ next to “Single.”  Still, every time I befall a brief lapse in protocol and must therefore catch myself before absent mindedly checking, circling, and doodling happy faces and hearts next to “Married.” 

Were these check boxes and their superiors to watch a streaming video of my life, they’d quickly discern that I am unequivocally and (dare I say it) happily a wedded woman.  We take care of one another when we’re sick.  We pay bills together.  We’ll spend an hour ping-ponging dinner possibilities before deciding, “Aww, screw it!  We’ll split a bowl of popcorn.”  We’ll resort to the mind games married couples play on one another when neither of us is particularly in the mood to load the dishwasher.  “Bring it bitch.  I’ve got HOURS of staring at that pile of dishes in the sink left in me!  Muahahahaaa!

It’s funny because it’s true.

The moment Rhonda and I became engaged, we weren’t thinking about the lack of legal recognition, nor were we wrought with political agenda.  We were in love and both excited to lock in a lifetime of waking up next to a hot, naked chick.  Whether or not the hot, naked chick could medically insure me as her spouse; or the potential for getting rudely lectured in Jamaican customs on our honeymoon because we check the “civil union” box on our joint entry form as per instructed by the flight attendant, never crossed our minds.  We had a wedding ceremony and “got married” because we had each found someone we knew we could enjoy for the rest of our lives (regardless the state of our dress. although let’s be honest here, naked time is awesome time).  

And now here we are, eight days away from celebrating our third year of “That Night We Proclaimed to the World That We Were Going to Love Each Other No Matter What (less the event Rhonda ever swings at a 3-0 pitch, and then I’m walkin’),” and I’m grateful that we have it so easy.  As if in defiance of the awkward sinking feeling I get every time I mark “Single” on a government form, exponentially more so is the love and acceptance Rhonda and I receive from our friends and family.  I have very little concept of what it’s like to be cast aside or hated for who I love.  I know the overwhelming emotions involved in checking the box “Gay,” before surrendering the forms back to parents, friends, teachers, siblings... everyone.  But I have no concept of the terror surrounding what they all might have to say.  I never feared that they wouldn’t love me any more.  So I’ll say again, I’m grateful.

Two days ago was National Coming Out Day.  I was completely unaware of the holiday until the day of, and even then, I was too preoccupied chugging Theraflu by the gallons to pay much notice.  Regardless the day, I hope anyone reading this can at least empathize the difficulty involved in living a life, completely open and honest with who you are.  Whether gay, ambiguous, harboring addiction, hiding a pregnancy, in love with a circus performer, create a family derived of multiple partners, decide not to have children, or just really love to sit in bathtubs full of Jello, coming out of the closet is hard.  It’s terrifying to consider how everyone you hold dear might react.  It’s unnerving to think that they may spend the rest of eternity judging you.  Living a life with a sign on your chest stating, “THIS IS WHO I AM” is something most people just don’t do.

So if you’re like me and missed the opportunity to say to someone, “Hey, I love you just for who you are.” Perhaps you’ll think about doing so sooner than later.  And hey!  Happy (late) Coming Out Day!

  • I love you, and I'll never swing at a 3-0 pitch.

    And I really hated checking "Single" when I filled out the forms at the ENT. Next time, I'm checking both.
    • I love that people laugh when I say that I'll divorce you for swinging at a 3-0 pitch, but I am 100% serious.
      And I love you. :)
      • When I played in the Dallas tournament, I let the most beautiful, pitch go by. That ball was gift wrapped and had my name etched into it with gold leaf. The catcher looked at me like I was crazy. The ump said, "It doesn't get much better than that." I shrugged and said, "My wife will divorce me if I ever swing at a 3.-0 pitch. EVER." That? Is how much I love you AND respect our vows.
  • (no subject) -
  • (no subject) -
    • In softball, when you're batting and the pitch count is 3 balls, 0 strikes. When the next pitch is very likely a ball, and you would get to take the base, and (lord forbid) if it's a strike, you still have two more chances to hit or draw a walk. You never swing with three balls and no strikes against you! Ever, ever! Especially if there are two outs. Because even if you hit the ball, there's a great chance you can be thrown out at first (or pop the ball up and be caught out). When you very likely could have had the base for free if you'd just waited for the walk.
      --eh hem--

      And I'm happy to hear that you're in such a good place with who you are. :)
  • (no subject) -
  • You write beautifully.

    My world is better for knowing you and Rhonda and happy anniversary to you both!
    • a.) BIG thank you. That means a lot. :)
      b.) Right back at you! You and Holly are beyond awesome.
  • I love you for making me laugh when I've had an off day. Just like today :-)

    • I love you for calling... I'm totally sounding like a broken record, but I've missed you! Don't think I didn't consider calling you back again... but MAM's was closed tonight due to busted generator. :( I'll be stalking you soon.

      *HUGS* back at you!
  • (Anonymous)
    I think you need to check married. Who cares how the government classifies you. That is not what the form is asking. The form is asking you if you classify yourself as single or married and you classify yourself as married.

    People who classify themselves as married are usually considered so. Without question, at a minimum, you are domestic partners.

    It's was small step for gaykind.
    • (Anonymous)
      btw, this is scott
      • (Anonymous)
        It's a small step for gay kind.

        I was clearly typing too fast and not proof reading.
        • (Anonymous)
          ...so beautifully put in perspective....and I've never been more proud of you...The relationship you and Rhonda share is more "married" than many, many married people out there...Y'all are a shining role model for ALL married couples...Enjoy a beautiful anniversary. much love, ~Mom~
    • Small steps are made every day, and I can't wait to see how the world evolves as a result. Until then, I'm happy that I'm able to live with Rhonda in peace.
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