My mom’s surprise retirement party went off without a hitch, because luckily, she didn’t find out about all of the surprises.  She is a human lie detector.  You know those people who you don’t want to watch CSI-type shows with, because he/she knows who the killer is as soon as they’re on the screen?  That’s my mom.  She is “The Surprise-Ruiner”.

Anyway, all she knew about her last day of work, was that they were having a lunch for her.  The jig was almost up though, when she started questioning my dad that morning.

“Did my work call you about the lunch we’re having?”

“What?” my dad said, feigning deafness.

She yelled at him.  “DID MY WORK CALL YOU ABOUT THE LUNCH WE’RE HAVING?”

“Uhh . . . no.”

“Liar.”

My dad DOES NOT have a poker face.  So she knew he was probably coming to the lunch, and since I was at the house, that I was probably coming too.  What she didn’t know, was that her sister, brother and sister-in-law were secretly in town, and that her parents were coming to the party as well.

Since my mom worked in 5 different departments of the county government over the course of 29+ years, luckily her current co-workers emailed those other departments to let them know.  Most of her old co-workers came to the party to surprise her too.

Now since my mom got pregnant with me 2 months after she started there, I’ve known most of those people my entire life.  My mom worked 60+ hours a week, every year, since she came back from maternity leave with my brother in 1983.  Both he and I spent A LOT of time at her office and grew up in front of those people.   So seeing me there made them feel either one of two things:  1) “I’m really old.” or 2) “Damn, Chamuca looks gooooood.”

I’m sorry, but it’s really gross for you to hit on me, when YOU HELD ME AS A BABY, PERVO.

Also, one of the County Commissioners gave a speech about my mom and gave her a plaque.  My mom gave a little acceptance/goodbye speech, which actually made me cry, because she was saying goodbye to people who she’d “come to know as her work family” (her words).  Oh, and the pervy County Commissioner just couldn’t wait to get over to comfort the crying girl.

Anyway, now that I’ve gone all, “I’m so hot, all the men want to have my babies,”  I’ll get to the, “I felt like a Fucking Loser, because my brother is The Golden Child, and I’ve done nothing worthwhile with my life”.

Obviously, many people asked me what I’m doing now.  So I did a lot of hemming and hawing and trying to explain.  Eventually, I just blamed the economy, so I’d get the attention off of me.  At one point, some lady (whom I didn’t recognize) asked my mom what her kids up to.

“Well, Chamuca . . .Chamuca’s right there . . .and [my brother] lives in San Diego now and he’s a lawyer!”

I was ashamed there was nothing for my mom to say about me.  And I was embarrassed for her since she had to cover for me, just so she wouldn’t look like a bad parent.  I just wanted to get the hell out of there, but I had to stay, since I’d driven my dad there.  It was really awkward.

There was a highlight to the party though.  Her co-workers from her first department searched their storeroom, and found a box of old pictures from the 80’s.  Tons of pictures of my mom with dark hair and a huge perm, which was both hilarious and nice to see, since we don’t have many pictures of her from that decade.  She was too busy taking pictures of her AWESOME children.

The best pictures were from Halloween though.  Her homemade costumes included a nerd one year, and a marionette the next.  The year after that, she and 2 of her girlfriends dressed up like the Three Blind Mice, while a male co-worker dressed up like The Farmer’s Wife.  I didn’t know my mom could be so creative.

First part of the story here.

So, my brother’s new girlfriend (“Viking”) showed up with this freaking adorable puppy, and the first thing she did was “make the puppy talk” to my dad, saying, “Hi Wandy!  I pwomise not to pee on you caaaahpet!”

It was obvious to me that my brother warned her my dad is crazy when it comes to pee on his carpet.  He is OBSESSED with the fucking carpet.  He walks around and picks up lint off of it.  I’m not kidding.

Of course, the puppy had accidents.  She was only 10 weeks old, and had only been away from her mom for 2 days.  So Viking was freaking out all weekend because she thought my dad was getting super pissed at her.  I told her not to worry, because my dad loved that fucking dog.

How could you be mad at that sweet face anyway?

On Thanksgiving, my grandparents (The Ones with the Squirrels) came over, making our dinner party total 7 people.  Of course, we had to play Hand and Foot afterwards, which was difficult with an odd number of people.  We decided one person would be on puppy duty per round, and we would rotate.

My mom, grandpa and I each took a shift, with my dad taking the last one.  The dog did not pee on the carpet when we watched her.  But she peed 3x when my dad did. Viking couldn’t stop laughing, and neither could we.

At some point during the Thanksgiving weekend, my parents watched something on TV which talked about “Scrumpy”.  Apparently it’s a nickname for a cider drink in England?  Helen, is that true?

Anyway, so my dad thought the name was hilarious, and decided he was going to christen his new imaginary dog, Scrumpy.

On Monday, my mom had her retirement party, and people gave her all kinds of gifts.  She got gold earrings and a diamond necklace and a trip to a day spa.  But my dad gave her something else.

It’s an animatronic dog that sings in Spanish.  (“Donde esta Santa Claus!”)  And he wrote ‘Scrumpy’ down it’s pancho with a permanent marker.

I think that’s his hint to my mom that they are not getting a puppy, and are moving to Central America.  We’ll see though.  My mom normally gets her way.

I are victimized cat. U R meen poopyheds.

When I was a kid, my mom wanted to get us a dog.  My dad did not, because he knew he would be the one who’d have to take care of it.

So, my dad made up an imaginary dog named Scooter.  He would yell at “Scooter” for chewing things up or getting up on the counters, etc.  He’d make us get up and let “the dog” out.  He was trying to teach us what it was like to have a dog.

My mom LOVES DOGS and didn’t care they’re a pain in the ass sometimes, so she got her way.  I found an ad for a girl puppy one day, while I was using the local paper for a project in my 5th grade class.  We went to see her that evening, and my parents decided to buy her.

We couldn’t come up with a name for her, and with a lack of better options, we decided on Scooter.

Now that dog lived for 16 fucking years. And for all those 16 years, my dad bitched about having to take care of the dog.  He still complains about how we took off and left him with a puppy for 18 days. . . in 1992.  He just complained about it today.  I’m serious.

However, when Scooter died, my mom told me that my dad bawled LIKE A FUCKING BABY. She said she’s never seen him cry so hard, even when his own mother died.

My parents buried Scooter on their property (which is probably illegal, but whatever).  My mom went out to her grave a few months later, and was surprised to see a copper-capped redwood four-by-four stuck in the ground.  My dad used a router and carved Scooter’s name, birthday and death day on the side of the four-by-four, and secretly put it out there as her gravestone.

Seriously, the man is just a big ball of mush.

Now that my mom’s retiring, my parents have been discussing moving to Central America.  This is despite the fact my mom is having a hard time learning Spanish, since she was never taught phonics.  My dad thinks he CAN speak Spanish since he took it in high school 40 years ago, but really, the only Spanish he knows is “I need some toilet paper.”

Even though they’re talking about becoming expats, my mom still wants a new puppy again.  Desperately.  This was just aggravated when my brother came home for Thanksgiving, with his new girlfriend and his new girlfriend’s puppy.

OK SERIOUSLY?!? I wanted to steal this puppy, but my mom would've stolen her first.

To be continued . . .

I ate so much food yesterday! I was stuffed! At Thank’s Giving, my family makes really good food. And when I say really awesome food, I don’t mean Mc. Donald’s, because I’m not white trash. What I mean is FUCKING AWESOME FOOD! I hope you don’t think of me as white trash. That would be fucking mean! I really don’t give a dinosour shit with whatever you think of me. As long as you go to my website . Anyways…… It was so fun last night. We were all playing the wii. I really sucked at it, because we were playing wii sports. I’m better at playing games that aren’t realistic. This game actually comes with the wii if you bye it. My uncle got the wii for free, because he signed up for comcast. Comcast is fucking HELLA expensive, but hey, he got a free wii. Now that’s what I call an awesome offer! I made a mii (if you even know whatever the fuck I’m talking about) of my brother, and made him look like a girl with a part of her hair missing and I made him look really fat and ugly! If you don’t know what a “mii” is, it’s an animated character of someone that you can make on the wii. I really suck at giving definitions. If your really curious with what a “mii” is, LOOK IT UP! I hope everybody had a great Thank’s Giving, but ofcorse, to those of you who never seem to read my blog……… GO FUCK YOURSELVES!!!!!!!!!!

Since my British pen-pal Helen gave me a shout-out on her blog, I will do likewise.

When she and I first starting chatting, she was embarrassed to admit she didn’t know where Oregon was.  Totally not a problem, since she’s lived in the UK her entire life.  I gave her a brief geography lesson, and gladly explained where Oregon is, in relation to California.  Fucking California.

Helen, you really shouldn’t feel bad about it AT ALL, for reasons I will explain.

1)  While I’ve unfortunately read all of the Twilight books, I refuse to see any of the movies.  I probably should  see the first one, since it was primarily filmed within a 50 mile radius of my city.

I watched The Ellen Show today and she had Robert Pattinson as a guest.  They were talking about how the new movie was filmed in Vancouver B.C., and Ellen mentioned the first movie was filmed in Oregon.

Robert Pattinson is a tard at Geography.

Robert said, “Yeah, isn’t Oregon just south of Canada?”

“Well . . .um . . .the state of Washington is in between them,”  Ellen replied, stifling her laugh.

Seriously, Robert?  You stayed in both Oregon and British Columbia for MONTHS.  Did you not take the time to figure out where the hell you were in the world?

[Helen, by my approximate distance calculations, this would be the equivalent of an American staying in Scotland and France for months each respectively, and then claiming France is just across the English Channel from Scotland.]

However, most Americans are tards at Geography.

2)  My brother (who lives in San Diego) told me yesterday about how his girlfriend (who has lived in California for years), DID NOT KNOW WHERE OREGON WAS.

And she’s an American.  From Minnesota.  She thought it’s where Idaho or Montana is or something.

How the hell did she not know where Oregon is?  It borders a state she’s lived in for years!

[Helen, in terms of distance, this would be the equivalent of, let's say, a Romanian person living in the UK for years, and thinking that France is where Spain is.]

How the hell do most Americans not know where it is?  There’s only three states on the West Coast.  Five, if you count Hawaii and Alaska.  I can understand people not being able to place all of the East Coast states on a map, because there’s like 20 of you guys.  But 3 states?  C’mon.

I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just a geographical genius.  I did win my school’s geography bee in the 5th grade, despite being disqualified for saying that Guernsey and Jersey are part of France, when really they’re part of England.  But I argued my way back in, because I knew they are closer geographically to France.

Looking back, Guernsey and Jersey are super British names and not French sounding at all.  Oh well, I was only 10 years old.

ANYWAY.  So Helen, you shouldn’t have felt bad.  You’ve never been to Oregon, and you aren’t an American who lives in a state bordering it either.

So, that is all for today, class.  Read pages 230-249 tonight, and we’ll discuss them tomorrow.

This is the beginning of a probable series on posts written to and about my family, just to let them know that I’ve not forgotten then *smile*, that I’m thinking about them.

Hello, all, was thinking about writing this post last night, almost couldn’t sleep for trying to construct the post in my head. But I was already tired from Chloe waking me up so early yesterday morning, and I’d already written so much yesterday. I seem to have a burst of creativity going on Mashallah. So anyway…

I love my brother, I’ll just start by saying that. I love my family, in general, and I don’t see many of them nor talk to them nearly as often as I should or would like to. But… I was thinking about my brother and I last night, how close we used to be.

My brother is almost exactly 4 years and one month younger than me. I was born in May of 1975 and he was born in June of 1979. And he really was a good brother, and he had a lot asked of him from a young age, because of his blind older sister. If we were playing outside, he had to make sure to guide me if I needed help, if we were walking somewhere where I didn’t know my way, he had to take me. When my mom taught me how to type, he had to read from the typing book when she couldn’t. I have jokingly said in the past that we both had to look out for each other, I, as the older sister, had to keep him out of trouble, and he, as the sighted younger brother, had to keep me from running into things, or falling into things, etc.

And I don’t think he realizes how much he has meant to me, and how much I miss him now that I live in Florida and hardly see him. I miss discussing music, or politics, or technology with him. I sure wish he was around to fix my electronic gizmos and gadgets when they break, because, well, let’s just say, my husband is kinda technologically illiterate unfortunately.

My brother has made me laugh, and he always showed me how much he cared in that brotherly way of his, usually by pestering the heck out of me! But the thing is, we’re not as close as we once were, probably because of distance, probably because of just normal everyday life getting in the way, probably because of little sibling spats every now and then.

But I just wanted him to know how much I always appreciated him, how much I love him, what a good brother he’s been, even though he did punch me in the nose when I was 7, and I got the worst nosebleed of my life, but that’s another story, and I actually laugh about it now, though I didn’t then of course.

I remember when we were kids, we rode bigwheels together, swam together, went to King’s Island, and Old Indiana together, rode our tandem bike pretty much till the thing fell apart. And we used to have some mean, knock down drag out Scrabble games, though we really had a lot of fun. When our kitchen caught on fire once, before he did anything else, he threw my coat at me and made sure I got out of the house, and he stayed inside to call for help. He was always there to talk to, play with, pester, tease, lol, he’s my brother lol. He was there to give me a ride, take Abby to the vet, help me give Abby any medicine she needed (and believe me it normally took two of us to do it). I could pretty much always count on him for anything I needed.

Anyway, I just wanted to write this, just to let him know that I love him, and was thinking about him, and I miss him a lot.

I love you Que, you’re a great and wonderful brother! I miss you and wish I could come home and visit more often. You really are a great brother and I don’t think you’ve ever been thanked or apreciated enough for being the kind of brother you’ve been to me! And give my nephew Gage a big hug and a kiss from Aunt Ginny!

“Eşcinsel yakını olmak” yazı dizisi / Ümran Avcı / HaberTürk / 19 Ekim 2009

İstanbul Tıp Fakültesi Psikiyatri Anabilim Dalı Öğretim Üyesi Prof. Dr. Şahika Yüksel, eşcinsellik ve transseksüellikle ilgili bilinmeyenleri ve yanlış bilinenleri anlattı.

‘EŞCİNSELLİK HASTALIK DEĞİL”

Eşcinsellik bir hastalık mıdır?

Dünya Sağlık Örgütü’nün hastalık sınıflandırmasına göre, eşcinsellik bir hastalık değil. Ne “hastalık” ne de “ruhsal hastalık” sınıflandırmasında “eşcinsellik” var. Bu 40 yıla yakın bir zamandır böyle.

Neden hastalık gibi görünüyor veya bu şekilde ifade ediliyor?

Toplumda tek tip insan isteniyor ve çoğunluk olanların “normal” olduğu söyleniyor. Eşçinsellerin oranı heteroseksüllerden daha az ama bu anormal oldukları anlamına gelmez. Çok olan normal, az olan anormaldir diye ifade edilirse sarışınların çok olduğu bir ülkede zen cilere anormal diyeceğiz. Eşcinsellik niye hastalık olarakdüşünülüyor? Toplumun yalnızca yüzde 10′u eşcinsel olduğu için değil. Toplum, cinsellik konusunda kendini diğer insanların bekçisi gibi görüyor.

Eşcinseller cinsel yönelimlerini ailelerine itiraf edebiliyor mu?

Şöyle bir gerçeklik var ki, kişi kendisinden başka bir şey olamaz. Yani karşı cinse yönelen insanlar heteroseksüeldir ve onları eşcinsel ya da transseksüel yapamazsınız. Eşcinseller için de bu geçerli.

‘ADlNI KOYMAK ZAMAN ALIR’

Bir kişinin ne olacağı 3-4 yaşlarında bellidir. Bunun adının konulması, kişinin kendisini keşfetmesi ve talep etmesi zaman alır. Bir çocuk 12-13 yaşında “Ben kadın bedenine sahip olmak istiyorum” diyorsa bir ruh sağlığı uzmanı eşliğinde takip edilmesinde yarar var. Çocuklar son derece akıllıdır ve genelde ailelerin kaldıramayacağı şeyleri onlara söylemezler. Onun için de kendi.cinsini beğendiğini ailelerine söylemeyecektir. İki nedenle söylemeyecektir: Bir, “Ailem çok sert. Bana kötü muamele edecekler”; iki, “Annem babam beni seviyor. Eşcinsel olduğumu öğrenirlerse çok üzülürler.

Aileler gerçeği öğrendiklerinde ne yapıyor?

Üzülüyor ve önce kendilerini suçluyorlar; bir bölümü de çevreyi.

Bunun kötü anne, baba olmakla ilişkisi yok. Yetersiz anne babalar tabi ki çocuklarının gelişimini bozarlar ama cinsel kimliğini değiştirebilme yeterlilikleri yoktur.

Ailelerin beklentisi ne?

Daha okumuş, eğitimli ve bilime inanan aileler genellikle çocuklarına  karşı çok katı oluyorlar. Çünkü “Bilim var, tıp gelişti, istediğimizi yapar” diyorlar. Kendilerini ve çocuklarını hırpalıyor, manevi baskı uyguluyorlar.

Bizden bilgi almayagelip işbirliği yapan aileler, danışanların belki 20′de biri. Bir iki kere geliyor, mesajı beğenmeyip gidiyor. Piyasada “Eşcinselliği değiştiririm” diyen “profesyoneller” bulmaları mümkün.

İNTiHAR ORANI YÜKSEK

Bu tür örnekler de cinsel yönelimi saklamaya itiyor.

Bir çocuk ailesine söylemezse kendisini zorla değiştirecek doktorlara gıtmek durumunda kalıyor. Eşcinsel gençlerin ergenlik devresinde heteroseksüel gençlerden daha yüksek oranda intihar ettiğini biliyoruz. Yurtdışındaki çalısmalara göre, eşcinsel ergen, anne babasına açıklamışsa intihar riski daha fazla. Bu da aile baskısının ne kadar zarar verici olduğunu gösteriyor.

‘Çocuğunuzu olduğu gibi kabul edin’

Ailelere mesajınız?

Çocuğunuzu olduğu gibi kabul edin. Çocuğunuzu başka bir şey yapmak, başka bir cinsel kimliğe taşımak mümkün değildir. Çocuğuna destek olan aileler sayılı. Çocuk erkekse “Bir kadınla ilişkiye girerse erkekliği kabul eder” düşüncesi var.

Transseksüel olmak için nasıl bir süreç var?

Üçlü bir süreç var. Önce “Evet, bu bir transseksüeldir” diye bir değerlendirme lazım.

Transseksüelse ameliyat sonrasına hazırlanması lazım. Onun için hormon –kullanımı var. Doktor takibinde olması gerekir. Sonra da ameliyat ve nüfus cüzdanı değişimi geliyor.

‘Kadın olup tesettüre giren oluyor’

Dini inançları kuvvetli kişilerede süreç daha zor olsa gerek. Kişi dindar olduğunda çok zorlanabiliyor. İnançları arttığı ölçüde intihar riski artıyor. Transseksüellerle ilgili iki ayrı şey var. Erkekten kadına geçen transseksüeller arasında “Ben dini bütün biriyim” deyip tesettüre girenler oluyor. Kadın olarak tesettürlüyken gelip erkek olarak gidenler de olabiliyor.

Transseksüellik nedir?

BAZI kişiler diyorlar ki, “Ben kadın bedeninde doğmuşum ama kendimi erkek hissediyorum” ya da , “Erkek bedeninde doğmuşum ama kendimi kadın hissediyorum” Bu, erken yaşlarda belirlenen bir durum.

Transseksüelitenin bugün ruhsal hastalıklar sınıflandırmasında bir yeri var. Diyorlar ki, “Tıbbi bir işlem yaparak beni erkekten 1 kadına cevirin.” Doktorların bunu yapabilmesi için kişinin doğduğu bedende yaşamasının ruh sağlığının bozulmasına neden olacağına karar vermesi lazım. Tıbbi müdahale süreci hormon tedavisi, psikolojik danışmanlık ve cerrahi müdahale şeklinde oluyor.

“Eşcinsel yakını olmak” yazı dizisi / Ümran Avcı / HaberTürk / 19 Ekim 2009

and I’m going to post something today, tomorrow and of course Wednesday about it.  Today you get one of the best songs I’ve ever heard about war, because it’s the truth for veterans and their families.  Get out the tissue, it’s a hurter.

So it turns out that most likely you will still be there
I have already noticed this before
You are bright, but not the brightest
And our family is not the wealthiest
All I wanted you to do was only to aim higher
However small the chance is
So that you don’t get depressed when you know the reality
Like how I did

So, I want to wish you luck
Be careful
It may look convenient there at the wallow
But stay enlightened for the newest advancements
I will always be here to assist you,
But you must also try your best
More than the standard there

One more
Stay away from the comfort zone.
It’s very very dangerous.

Wow…my brother is dating a roller derby girl. He says he “might be growing fond of a girl who has a hobby of derby.” and I have confirmed via text that he is dating this girl.

Huh. I never thought I’d see that day. He seemed so opposed to the idea when he first started refereeing. I hope she’s nice.

When I was a kid, my mom worked full time.  That meant she let us dress ourselves in whatever we wanted.  As long as we were weather-appropriately dressed and weren’t dressed like little whores (namely I wasn’t), we could wear anything.

This went for our Halloween costumes as well.  As long as it wasn’t an evil, satanic character (witch, vampire, ghost, etc.) and it was cheap, we could dress as whatever we wanted.

In 1991, I was 10 years old and my brother was 8.  I’d dressed as a black cat the following year (which is still witchy, but whatever).  So I reused my costume from the year before and spray painted a white stripe down the back.  I was a skunk, wearing all Black Keds.

My brother decided he wanted to be Steve Urkel, from Family Matters. He had everything for the costume, so my mom was happy about how cheap it was.

But he wasn’t content to just go as White Urkel.  No, he demanded our mother buy him brown face paint, as well. (I’m sure the California State Bar Association would like to know all about how they just accepted a lawyer who dressed in blackface as a kid.)

A few days before Halloween, my brother had some Boy Scout Halloween Jamboree thingy.  My mom was his troop leader and I was a Girl Scout, so I went as well.  As we were getting ready for the Jamboree, my brother refused to let Mom put the face paint on him, so he smeared it on his own face, in the ramshackle manner that 8 year old boys are perfect at.   Somehow, he forgot to paint his forehead, which wasn’t hidden, because he has about 3 cowlicks in the middle of his bangs.

So we went to the Jamboree and I assume fun times were had.  I don’t recall.  I do remember getting back into the backseat of our new Mazda minvan and not putting on my seatbelt.

We lived out in the country and so the trek to and from town could take awhile.  I busied myself with inventorying my haul that I made at the Jamboree.

Next thing I knew, my mom slammed on the brakes and I went face first into the back of the driver’s seat.  I remember thinking Dad was gonna spank my because I got my skunky face paint on the back of the new car seats, since I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt.

Then we hit something.

It was a deer.  Not just a deer. A mamma deer who was pregnant with a little baby.

This is a true recreation of the events.

The people who lived across the street heard it happen and immediately came outside to see if we were ok.  My mom tried to drive the car over to the side of the road, but the engine wouldn’t even turn over.   Since this was the days before cell phones, they let us come inside their house so we could call my dad to come get us.

That didn’t solve the problem of the deer though.  All of her legs were broken, but she was still alive and in a lot of pain.  My brother and I wanted to go outside to see her, but the adults wouldn’t let us.  They sat the little skunk and blackface Urkel down in front of the TV to watch “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”

We were content with that, until I heard the gunshot.  And lost my shit.

I don’t remember my dad getting there to pick us up.  I was in a daze.  That experience traumatized me to the point where I still slow way the fuck down whenever I drive on that road, even to this day.

A few months ago, I found a story my brother had to write a few years later, about “The Scariest Experience He’s Ever Had.”  He wrote about that night.  He said that he couldn’t sleep and kept going into my parents’ room, to sleep on the floor.  Apparently, it wasn’t hitting the mamma deer and then the neighbors shooting it that scared him.  It was the fact that the brand new car got fucked up.  He is a robot.

Announcement of Tokyo University Entrance Exam results. I want you to feel at least the same level of happiness, and subsequent stress.

Honestly, I want you to go out and see the world.
Appreciate different cultures,
imitate their working spirit,
and learn world’s recent advancements
very early.
Don’t wallow and rot inside
like me how I used to be.
Affected and haunted by my past.

Go, go to the places where the symmetries are broken,
where the light traverses through the silicon.
The land of the rising sun
and the fragrant harbour under the five stars
should be where you drop your anchor.

…but I am not sure if you are keen of it; you don’t even bother to peek into the websites.

Please, let me continue to regurgitate all of my 80’s and 90’s pop culture trivia for you . . .

7) Beetlejuice (1988)

I'm a ghost with the most, babe.

Tim Burton, how I love thee.  This is the first of 3 of his movies on my list.  He really was THE dark Children’s Movie director/writer of my generation.

The cast of this movie is ridiculous.  Michael Keaton, Geena Davis, Alec Baldwin, Winona Ryder.  All actors whom I love in 80’s and 90’s movies.

Also Winona’s parents are that asshole Ed Rooney and Macauley Culkin’s mom in Home Alone.

I am a loser and have this movie on VHS.  Gotta hook up my VCR before Halloween.

8 ) Teen Witch (1989)

Nobody's comin' to your sweet sixteen party Louise.

I LOVED THIS MOVIE WHEN I WAS A KID.  However, I haven’t seen it in years.

I remember it has the same freaky lady who played the organist in Sixteen Candles.  And when I was a kid, I got Sixteen Candles and Teen Witch confused because of that.  Also, Robyn Lively and Molly Ringwald both have red hair, and both of the movies are about the girls turning 16.

Fun Fact:  Dick Sargent played the girl’s dad as well.  He must have loved witchy women.

9) Edward Scissorhands (1990)

The light concealing cream goes on first. Then you blend, and blend, and blend. Blending is the secret.

- Tim Burton again.  Genius.

- Vincent Price.  That man’s voice gives me chills to this day.

- Johnny Depp.  Such a freak.  I want to have your babies.

- Winona Ryder.  Weird blond hair.  Did you know that her natural hair color is actually blond?

- Anthony Michael Hall.  For once playing a douchebag jock instead of a douchebag geek.

-Dianne West.  She also played the pastor’s wife in Footloose.  And the mother of that whore girl.

When I first saw this movie, I was only 9 years old and didn’t fully understand it.  Years later, I saw it again and loved it.  I don’t have it on DVD anymore because some asshole roommate I’ve had stole it.  I am angry about that because I want to watch it RIGHT NOW.

10) Ghost Dad (1990)

"DO YOU WORSHIP SATAN?" "Worship him? I AM Satan! I command you to stop this cab!"

Ok, this movie an absolutely ridiculous mix of ghosts/invisible man.  But, it’s actually hilarious.  If you’ve never seen it, you need to.  I got my copy of it for like $5 at Target.

First off, it has Bill Cosby when he was still funny and not a weird old man.  Second, it has Kimberly Russell as Cosby’s daughter, who was Sarah on Head of the Class. I fucking loved Head of the Class.  I would purchase the seasons on DVD if they made them.

Also, it has a Omar Gooding, pre-W-W-Wild and Crazy Kids.

This movie has the scariest Creepy Satanic Hobo ever, too.  He beats himself in the head.  No joke.

11)  The Addams Family (1991)

"Pugsley, sit in the chair." "Why?" "So we can play a game." "What game?" "It's called, "Is There a God?" "

I went to see this movie in the theater for someone’s birthday,  and my mother was MAD.  She really doesn’t like “evil satanic” things.

Great cast though:  Raul Julia, Anjelica Huston, Christopher Lloyd, Christina Ricci (before she got weird).

Also, the guy who played Lurch also played Mr. Homn on Star Trek: Next Gen, who is hilarious.

12) Hocus Pocus (1993)

I'm sorry, Emily. I had to wait three hundred years for a virgin to light a candle.

As previously mentioned, I love witch covens.

I also have a weird affection for Bette Midler.  The mother of my childhood best friend listened to The Divine Miss M, ALL THE TIME.

Seriously, Big Business was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid.  God, I have shitty taste in movies.

Also, did you know they only makeup they had to put on Sarah Jessica Parker was brown paint on her chin-mole?

13) The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

Kidnap the Sandy Claws, / beat him with a stick, / lock him up for ninety years, / see what makes him tick.

Again, Tim Burton.  I didn’t really get into this movie until I was in college, until I became friends with a goth girl.

Actually I probably haven’t seen it since then.  I also haven’t seen the “Corpse Bride” or “9″.  I’m a shitty Tim Burton fan.

I need to purchase this movie and watch it before Christmas.  This is my goal.  Not getting a job, or cleaning my house or anything.  Watching The Nightmare Before Christmas.  Goal set.

14) Casper (1995)

It's my party and I'll die if I want do, die if I want to. You will die too, when it happens to you.

I saw this movie in the theater as well.  Mom wasn’t so pissed because it isn’t as “dark.”

Again, good cast.  Ben Stein, Eric Idle, Bill Pullman, Cathy Moriarty.

But back then, I didn’t care about that.  I cared about One Mr. Devon Sawa (pictured above).  When Casper turns into a real boy, he becomes that piece of young-man-loveliness.

This movie came out the same year as Now and Then. Both of them had Christina Ricci and Devon Sawa, and their characters in each had the hots for each other.  I still hate that bitch.

15) Practical Magic (1998)

Since when is being a slut a crime in this family.

Yet another witches coven movie.  I also like The Craft.  My friend Bella is a Wiccan and she hates it when witches as portrayed this way.  I tell her to get over herself because she’s only Wiccan to be edgy and cool.

This movie is a super chick flick, but it has Stockard Channing in it, so it’s ok.  Plus, I want to have Aiden Quinn’s babies.

Also, the bad guy in the movie is Luka from ER, who I hate in this movie and therefore, hated on ER.

This movie, among others, makes me wish I had a sister.  A cool sister.  I’m just stuck with a stupid brother who likes to make me look bad to the family because he’s a lawyer and shit.

Also, he’s doing some race for Diabetes now.  Way to go, brother.  I look like a loser now.

So there ye have it.  I have horrible taste in movies.  Judge away.

Chocolate ones turn into Count Chocula. Frosted ones turn into The Count from Sesame Street.

Last night, I finally made my chocolate bat cookies and I made some sugar cookies too.  As I rolled out the dough and baked away, I watched a horrible Halloween movie on TV.  Once Bitten (1985) with Lauren Hutton as a vampire who’s trying to drink Jim Carrey’s virgin blood.

It made me think of my favorite movies I watch now, and watched as a kid, that were Halloween-y.

Here is my top 15 list, in chronological order.  (Actually there are 18, but I’m not counting sequels.)

Also, I wasn’t allowed to watch scary or gruesome movies as a kid, so I never got into them.  Therefore, these are all fairly kid-friendly.

1) Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971)

Treguna, Makoidees, Trecorum, Sadis Dee!

When I was a kid, my mom intentionally paid the extra money for The Disney Channel.  She loves her some Disney, because as she likes to say, “Two great things were born in 1955 – Disneyland and ME.”

She would tape movies off The Disney Channel all the time, including this one.  I still have the tape from 20 years ago including original Disney Channel commercials.

This was one of my favorites because IT HAD THE DAD FROM MARY POPPINS IN IT.  And I love(d) Mary Poppins.  Also, there is live-action interposed with cartoons.  It’s like an acid trip.

It also takes place in England, during WWII, both of which I love.  Well, I don’t love Nazis, just historical stories.

2) E.T. The Extra-terrestrial (1982)

"A deformed kid." "Maybe an elf or a leprechaun." "It was nothing like that, penis-breath!"

This movie was the first legitimate videotape my family owned.  I think we got it at McDonald’s.  And I stole it from my parents’ house when I moved out.  It’s not like there are any grandchildren there to watch it.

Many people forget this movie takes place at Halloween, but remember how E.T. went trick-or-treating, dressed as a ghost?

3) Ghostbusters (1984) and Ghostbusters II (1989)

Ray, when someone asks you if you're a god, you say "YES"!

The Original Ghostbusters soundtrack was the first cassette tape I ever owned.  I also think I got it at McDonald’s.

The painting of Vigo created an ongoing fear in me, of paintings whose eyes follow me.

Also, whenever I hear “Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher”, I always think of this movie and the Statue of Liberty coming to life.  And I love the Statue of Liberty.  I even dressed up like her for Halloween in 6th grade.

Viggy, Viggy, Viggy, you have been a bad monkey!

I’ve heard that there might be a Ghostbusters III coming out, and if so, they MUST have the original cast.  It wouldn’t be the same without all of them.

I just watched both of these in the past 2 weeks and I found myself attracted to Egon.  Which disturbs me because he looks like Screech, who apparently my ex-boyfriend looks like.  Fuck you, Kitten.

I don’t have much else to say about these movies, except that if you have not seen them, you must have grown up in a cave.

4) Teen Wolf (1985) and Teen Wolf Too (1987)

You are an animal! Woooooo!

While about werewolves, these movies are considered Christmas movies in my family.

When I was a kid, we were up at my grandparents cabin in the woods for Christmas.  The only movie we could get on the huge satellite dish, was Teen Wolf.  So I made everyone watch it because I Love Michael J. Fox.  It is now known as, “Teen Wolf – A Christmas Classic”.

Teen Wolf Too is awesome because it has Jason Bateman.  I don’t care whatever other shit he’s been in, he is David Hogan from The Hogan Family.

5) Mr. Boogedy (1986) and Bride of Boogedy (1987)

Oh boy. This I gotta see. Dad's gonna negotiate with Mr. Hamburger Face.

These movies were made for The Disney Channel.  My brother and I loved them so much, we begged our mom to tape them.  She refused to and also refused to let us rent them at the video store.

I have not seen either of these movies in 20 years, but I can still remember that guy’s face and him saying “BOOOOOOGEDY!  BOOOOOGEDY!”.  Freaks me out still.

Apparently, they have never been released on DVD, but I found some guy on the internet who is selling DVD copies. They are totally pirated, but I don’t care.  I ordered them and hope they will be here before Halloween.

6) The Witches of Eastwick (1987)

I always like a little pussy after lunch.

Now, I highly doubt my mother let me watch this movie when I was a kid.  But I purchased it outta some bin at the Walmart and it cracks me up.

I love coven of witches stories for some reason.  One of my favorite books is The Witching Hour. Maybe it’s the feminist in me.  And that I believe I have witchy powers.

This movie is cast perfectly, and although I don’t really care for any of these actors now (except Susan Sarandon), I love their 80’s counterparts.  If that makes any sense.

And the novel it’s based on was written by John Updike, who won a Pulitzer, for Christ’s sake.

Also, the new Eastwick show, sucks donkey balls.

The rest of the list, tomorrow.

Here I was, all set to write about how ridiculous last night was, meeting Lobster’s baby mamma for the first time, and hanging out with my retarded friend, The Mutation . . .and then something else came to my attention again, after chatting with my brother today.

My father is a social retard.  He is like a robot.

Even the Wizard couldn't help my father.

When my parents were up here this past week, Mom informed me she turned in her resignation notice that day.  She’s worked at various government offices in my small hometown, since she was 22 in 1977.  Her entire career has been spent working with members of the local government.  So she got a little choked up when she told me about her pending retirement.

I promptly turned to Dad.

“Are you going to throw a retirement party for her?”

“I didn’t get a retirement party.”

“You don’t have any co-workers.  You’re self-employed.  And you have no friends.”

My mom looked at him with hope in her eyes.

“Haha, I’m not throwing any party.”

“MOM WANTS A RETIREMENT PARTY, DAD.”

“Haha!” (all awkward)

And my mother’s hopes were dashed.

Now, I hadn’t shared any of this with my brother, but when we started chatting today, it was obvious he had spoken with Mom.  I relayed my conversation with Dad with him, and then he got riled up.  Which riled me up.  Which led to me writing this blog today.

A little time-traveling . . .

Two days before Mom’s due date to give birth to the greatest child who ever lived, her water broke.  She was pacing back and forth in the tiny duplex they lived in, huffing and puffing.  And Dad sat down to put his boots on to go to work.

I honestly don’t know if he noticed or cared that his wife was going into labor with his child.  He’s not good with the whole ‘taking-care-of-people’ thing.  He tends to show his love by doing tangible things for people.  I presume he thought he was taking care of her, because at this point in time, the day of my birth, he was leaving to go work on the tiny house we would move into when I was 6 months old.

After I was born, he nicknamed me “Peanut” because I was so small.  This boggles my mind, that that man could be so affectionate towards me, as to give me a sweet nickname.  He actually took care of my brother and I when we were little babies, during the wintertime, when he didn’t have a lot of work to do.  Again, boggles my mind.

This promptly changed once we were older.  I can count on one hand the times my father has hugged me.  Once when my parents dropped me off at college the first time.  Other times, oddly enough, after my parents met one of my boyfriends for the first time.

My first recollection of my father hugging my brother and I, was after my mom got in his face and told him we were going to be messed up sexually because he didn’t hug us (read:we’d turn out gay or my brother would be a douchebag man-whore or I’d have daddy issues and be a slut.)

My brother and I were probably 14 and 16 at this point.  We were looking in the cereal cupboard for something to eat and Dad came up behind us.  He jokingly, awkwardly, grabbed us both in a bear hug.  Since this was unprecedented, it was more than my brain could handle.  I freaked out and shoved him off of us.  I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

My brother and I refer to the hugging incident as, "Silly Robot, Trix are for Kids!"

When I was younger, 18 or so, I had lotsa daddy issues.  I wasn’t out fucking lots of guys, because I was aware of my daddy issues and aware of that stereotype.  My hatred for that stereotype overrode my issues, even at that tender age.  But trust me, I had my fair share of the slutty times as well.

My issues were more “My dad’s an asshole,”  which equated to, “All men are assholes,”  which equated to “Chamuca’s a feminazi bitch who dyed her hair dark purple because she is so angsty.”  So I was an entirely different stereotype all together.

After several years,  I realized that my father actually does love me, he just has a hard time showing it.  Instead, he showed it by providing for our family.  He’s shown it by checking my car’s oil and tire pressure, to make sure I’m safe.  Or building me random things I might need.

I’ve developed different issues in the years since, however.

When my mom’s first surgery got fucked up, the nurses were incredibly kind and found a cot for one of us to sleep on in my mom’s room.  They understood that they had a malpractice situation on their hands, and that my mom was too fucked up on morphine to remember anything.

I sat there and waited and waited for my father to volunteer to stay with his wife of 30 years.  And he never did it.  He went home to sleep in his own bed, and to get up to go to work the next morning.  So I slept on the cot.

(I told you he’s self-employed, right?)

Staying with someone who’s on morphine and fading in and out of consciousness is boring.  So I watched TV with the hand-held speaker thingy, set to the lowest possible setting, held to my ear.

When my father finally showed up on his lunchbreak, I went home to shower, and immediately returned to the hospital.  When I entered the room, I was barraged with this diatribe:

“You kept your mother up all night by watching TV!!!”

“No, I didn’t!  There’s no way she could have heard it!”

“She’s right.  I didn’t hear it at all.  All I said was she watched TV while I slept.”

“You shouldn’t have been watching TV!!  You’re supposed to be taking care of your mother!!”

“EXCUSE ME!?!?  I’M HERE DOING YOUR FUCKING JOB!!!  THIS ISN’T THE JOB OF THE DAUGHTER!!!  THIS IS THE JOB OF THE FUCKING HUSBAND!!!”

“YOU WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE, YOUNG LADY!!!”

“Both of you, please stop fighting!”

Honestly, this situation at the hospital has led me to dump several guys I’ve dated, as soon as I catch a whiff of them acting like my father did in this situation.  I believe most women would do this, but I’m so strict about it, I know I have issues.

Going back and reading this incredibly long (SORRY!) post, I’ve also realized I’ve referred to him as “my father” more times than I ever have in real life.  Talk about distancing myself as much as possible.

Also, either through nurture or nature, I have inherited from him a defense mechanism of making jokes when I feel vulnerable or uncomfortable.  It is evident by the pictures I have chosen for this blog.  With that, I’ll leave you with this.

I may be fucked up, but at least I didn't turn out like this whore.

My mom and Grandma and Grandpa Squirrel left a week ago to go home.  I hadn’t heard from them since.  Then I got a phone call on Sunday.

“Hello?”

(very proper voice) “Yes, hello.  My name is [full first and last name] and I would like to make a reservation at Chamuca’s Bed and Breakfast for tomorrow night.”

Hehe, Beaver House.

“I have one bed available, but you will have to provide the breakfast, for both yourself, and for me as well.  There are some very reasonably priced and delicious restaurants in the area.”

“That sounds acceptable.”

“Are you coming alone?  How many guests will be arriving?”

“There will be one more guest coming with me.  My husband.”

“And what is the nature of your stay?”

“We are attending a meeting about my retirement.”

“Ok, and when will you be arriving?”

“Tomorrow evening, perhaps around 9 pm.  I will call you as we are leaving.”

“That sounds great.  I will see you both tomorrow then.”

I’m not kidding.  That’s how the entire conversation with my mom went.  She stayed in character the whole time.

So I had to run around all crazy-like yesterday and not just mom-clean my apartment, but dad-clean it.  My dad is the kind of person who walks around and picks lint up off the carpet.  No joke.

The blankets are the exact same color as Smurfette's ass.

I changed the sheets on my bed and threw my comforter in the living room for me to use.  I just put two blankets on the bed, “The Smurf Blankets” as my brother and I dubbed them when we were kids.  Only two blankets, because Mom’s all menopausal hot flashy and Dad likes to be cold.  Seriously, the thermostat was never above 60 degrees in our house ever.  Even in winter.

I also picked out the pillows I know my parents like.  Mom likes a down one.  Dad likes one that is so flat, it’s almost like not using one at all.

So I was an excellent hostess and anticipated all their sleeping needs.  Then I short-sheeted their bed.

They arrived and we watched some TV.  Then Mom went to bed.  Dad stayed out to watch some more TV, so I told him I short-sheeted the bed.

He and I snuck over to the door to my bedroom to listen for when she started freaking out.  Unfortunately, Mom yanked open the door, startling both of us, because she needed to brush her teeth.

And we looked all guilty, so Dad pretended that he was going to bed as well.  Mom went back in the bedroom and they shut the door.  Of course, I snuck over to listen and I heard my dad talking.

“Chamuca short-sheeted the bed.”

(chuckling) “Oh, I was wondering why you two were acting all weird.”

(from the other side of the door) “You told her?!?!  You ruined the joke!!!  You’re the worst dad ever!!!“

This morning, they woke me up and we went to breakfast.  At the end of the meal,

“Give Chamuca some money for letting us stay with her.”

“All I have is two five dollar bills.”

“That should be enough.  $5 for you, $5 for me.  And here, take these pats of butter too.”

I have no money, but REALLY!?!

“Are you kidding me?  You’re giving me 6 pats of butter?”

“You don’t have a job.  You might need that butter!”

That’s right.  My mom stole 6 pats of butter from the restaurant to pay for my hospitality.

Then we went back to my apartment, because my dad needed to roost on the toilet and read the paper.  He won’t poop in weird bathrooms.

When he emerged,

“You have lots of spiderwebs on your ceiling.  And all over your balcony too.”

“I can’t reach them, so I just ignore them.”

“I know just what I’m giving you for Christmas!  I am gonna take one of my long sticks from the shop and engrave it, ‘Chamuca’s Spider Web Stick.’ Perfect!”

Then they left for their meeting and I went back to bed.

- Kaç çocuğunuz var?
Biri kız, diğeri erkek iki çocuk. Oğlum eşcinsel.

- Ne zaman ve nasıl fark ettiniz?
17 yaşındayken bir şeylerin ters gittiğini fark ettik.
“Kız arkadaşın var mı?” diyorduk ya susuyor ya da “İlla olması mı gerekiyor?” gibi yanıtlarla geçiştiriyordu.

- Kendi mi açıldı yoksa siz mi sordunuz?
Bir gün konuşma kararı aldık. Okuldan eve geldi. 17 yaşındaydı. Önceleri “Hayır değilim” dedi. “Sen bizim evladımızsın. Ne olursa olsun seni çok seviyoruz. Böyle bir şey varsa bizimle paylaş. Bu dünyanın sonu değil. Bu dünyada her şeyin çaresi var” gibi cümlelerle onu rahatlatmaya çalıştık. Sonunda “Evet, ben eşcinselim. Bunu kabul edeli 2 ay oldu” dedi.

- Tepkisi nasıldı itiraf ederken?
Ağlıyordu. Biz de ağlıyorduk. Kalktık sarıldık çocuğumuza. “Tamam, ne olursan
ol sen bizim evladımızsın, her şeyimizsin. Bundan sonra ne yapacağımıza
bakmamız lazım” dedik. Durumu kabullenmişti ama nasıl baş edeceğini
bilmiyordu. Hayatını nasıl yürütecek, hayatın içinde nasıl yer alacaktı? “Bunun
için yardım almamız gerekiyor” dedik.

- Gerçeği duyunca ne hissettiniz?
Şok ve kayıp duygusu hissettim. Tanıdığımı, bildiğimi sandığım çocuğumu
kaybetmiştim. Aslında hayallerimi kaybetmiştim. Toplumun bize dikte ettiği
“Erkekse şöyle olmalı, kadınsa böyle olmalı” inancı hâkimdi. Ben de eşim de
başka türlüsünü düşünemiyorduk. Ertesi günü baktık, çocuğumuz yine bizim
çocuğumuz. Hiçbir şey değişmedi. “Neyi kaybettim?” diye sorgulamaya başladım. Aslında toplumun koyduğu kurallar çerçevesinde bir çocuk yetiştiriyor, hayatı da böyle algılıyormuşum. Ama gerçekler hiç de öyle değil. Ailelerin çocuklarına acı çektirmeye hakları yok. (Sesi titriyor)

- Sonra?
Yardım almamız gerekiyordu. Zaten çocuğumun da ihtiyacı varmış. Bir
araştırma yapmış kendine göre. Bir telefon numarası da bulmuştu. “Buraya gidelim anneciğim” dedi. Ertesi gün o psikoloğun kliniğinde oturuyorduk. Oğlumun yüzündeki rahatlamayı görebiliyordum. Kaç aydır gördüğüm gerginlik, huzursuzluk bitmişti.

- Ne kadar destek aldınız?
Ben 3.5 ay kadar yardım aldım. Danışmanımız beni kendime döndürmeye
başladı. O zaman anladım bir sürü hayaller kurduğumu, o kayıp duygusunu
neden yaşadığımı. İçsel bir yolculuk yapmaya başladım. Oğlumla birlikte biz
de yeniden doğmaya başlamıştık.

- Ya oğlunuz?
Oğlum 1.5 yıl yardım aldı. Zaten kendini bulmuştu. Ergenliğini yaşama ya başladı. Rahatlamıştı. Ailesine açıldıktan sonra kendisine partner bulmaya başladı.

- İsyan ettiniz mi hiç?
Tabi. “Neden başıma geldi? Neden biz? Neden benim çocuğum?” diye isyan
ettim. Şoklar yaşarken bunları düşündüm.

- Zor bir süreç…
Zor, çok öğretici, çetin bir süreç. Şimdi geliyor eve, sevgililerini anlatıyor. Gayet
rahat konuşuyoruz. Tanışıyoruz. Yaradılışa inanıyorsan, seni de aynısı yarattı, onu da aynısı yarattı. Nedir buradaki o zaman? Egolarımız, benliklerimiz, gururlarımız…

- Tanıştınız mı partneriyle?
Elbette. Zaten bu durumla ilk yüzleşmemiz de partnerinin gelişiyle oldu.
Oğlum partnerini önce yardım aldığı kişiye götürdü. Bir bayram öncesi oğlumun partneri bize gelmek, bizimle tanışmak istediğini söyledi. İtiraf tan 6 ay sonra. “Hazır mısınız?” diye sorduda nışanımız. “Tamam” dedik. Bir şeylere artık başlamak lazımdı. “Kabul ettim” demekle iş bitmiyor. Uygulamak da gerekiyor. Getirdi arkadaşını. O da elinde çiçekleriyle geldi, yavrum. Çok
tatlı bir aile çocuğu. Çok sevdik onu da.

- Kızınızın erkek arkadaşını tanıştırmasından ne farkı vardı?
Görüş farkı. Bir kızın yanında erkek olur, erkeğin yanında da bir kız olmalı. Bu
önyargıyı kırdığınızda, kolaylaşıyor. Koşulları kaldırınca rahatlıyorsunuz. İnsanları olduğu gibi kabul ettiğiniz zaman her şey daha kolay oluyor.

- 10 yıl geçti? Neler oldu?
Oğlum artık bizimle yaşamıyor. 1.5 yıl önce evini ayırdı. Saçı, sakalı var. Çok
yakışıklı. Sanat tasarımı fakültesinden mezun. Belgeseller çekiyor, sanatçıların arşivlerini düzenliyor. Hayat bana kimseden bir şey beklememeyi öğretti. Oğlum bana çok şey öğretti, öğretmenim oldu.

- Eşcinseller genellikle entelektüel oluyor. Yanlış bir gözlem mi?
Hayır, doğru. Çünkü toplum onları reddediyor. Toplum unvan vermeyince,
onaylamayınca ne yaparsın? Bilgilenerek güçlenmek zorundasın.

- Bu arada sizinle aynı durumda olan ailelere yardım ediyorsunuz.
Geçen yıl Cinsel Eğitim Araştırma Tedavi Derneği ile yurtdışındaki aileler le İtalya ’da buluştuk. Aynısını İstanbul’da hayata geçirip bir aile grubu kurduk. Yeni ailelere destek oluyoruz.

- Ailelere söylemek istediğiniz şeyler var mı?
Çok şey… Çocuklarımızı reddetme lüksümüz yok. Anne baba çocuğuna acı
çektirmemeli. Doğurduğumuz da “Sana canımı veririm” deriz. Şimdi can verme zamanı. Onların yanında olma zamanı.

Hikâyeniz nasıl başladı?
2006’da işyerimde beyin anevrizması geçirdim. Su almaya mutfağa gittim, bardağımı çalkalarken damarım patladı. Tıbbın benden umudu kesmesine rağmen, iki beyin ameliyatı geçirdikten sonra yaşama yeniden bağlandım.

Kaç çocuğunuz var?
İki. Büyük oğlum 1986’lı. Avusturya’da okuyor. Viyana Teknik Üniversitesi’nde hem endüstri makine hem de tıp fakültesini birlikte götürüyor. 1990’da “biyolojik olarak erkek” bir çocuğumuz daha doğdu. Karadeniz’in küçük bir kasabasında
yaşıyordum. Çocuklarımın babası doktordu. Anlaşamadık çocuklarımı aldım, “Bir tabak çorba parası kazanırım” deyip İstanbul’a geldim. Yıl 1997’ydi. Lise mezunuydum, AÖF sınavlarına girdim, halkla ilişkiler bölümünü bitirdim. Bilgisayar kursuna gittim. Sonra da sigortacılık mesleğini öğrendim.

Ve sigortacıda çalışırken beyin kanaması geçirdiniz. Sonra?
Ameliyattan sonra evime geldim. Küçük çocuğum 16 yaşındaydı. Karşıma geçip oturdu. Ağlıyordu. “Anne benim bedenim başka ben başkayım” dedi. “Bu ne demek?” diye sordum. “Anne ben aslında kızım” dedi. Boşanmaktan, beyin kanamasından, parasız kalmaktan daha zor.

Şok…
Hayatımı alt üst etti. Fakat tedirginliğimi belli etmedim. “Merak etme ben bir çare bulurum” dedim. Sırtını sıvazlayıp gönderdim. Sonra tıraşlı kafamı zor kaldırarak bilgisayarın önüne oturdum.

Ne olduğunu internetten mi öğreneceksiniz?
Evet, çünkü ben transseksüel nedir bilmiyorum. Ben asker çocuğuyum. Katı disiplin içinde büyümüşüm. “Bedenim başka ben başka”, “Ben aslında kızım” laflarını google’a yazıp aradım. Sonra beş parasız, dört kredi kartımla İstanbul’da gezmediğim psikiyatrist kalmadı.

Nasıl bir çocuktu?
Özel bir kolejde burslu okuyordu. Efendi, terbiyeli, çalışkandı. Ben hastalanmadan önce anoreksiya oldu. Yemiyor, kilo almak istemiyor, su içip kepek ekmeği yiyordu. Bu arada Marmaris’ten arkadaşlarım geldi. İki de kızları var. Fakat benim çocuğumda bir aksilik, yorganın altından çıkmıyor. Meğer kızları kıskanıyormuş. Onlarla bir alışveriş merkezine gittik. Tişört alalım diye tutturdu. Kabine girdi. İkinci bir tişört götürdüm ve kabinin önünde kalakaldım. Çocuğumun iki tane göğsü çıkmış. “Aaa, bu nasıl olmuş?” dedim. Sonra öğrendim, eczaneden doğum kontrol ilacı alıyormuş, göğüs yapsın diye. Sonunda Çapa’da Cinsel Kimlik Tedavi Merkezi’nde Prof. Dr. Şahika Yüksel’e gittim.

Sonra?
Doktor önce çocuğumu sonra beni çağırdı. “Senin çocuğun transseksüel, kabule geç” dedi. Odadan çıkıyorum ama bacaklarım tutmuyor. Titriyorum. Onkolojinin parkında oturdum. Böğüre böğüre ağladım. O kadar ağlıyorum ki, çevredekiler “Başınız sağ olsun” diyordu. Neye ağladım biliyor musunuz? 9 Temmuz 2007’de 16 yaşındaki oğlumu, evladımı kaybettim. Aynı gün koskocaman bir kızım doğdu. Bu kızı nasıl büyüteceğim diye ağladım. Asker bir baba, ‘Elalem ne der?’i bol bir anne, çevre, oturduğum semt çocuğun okulu, parasızlığım, yalnızlığım, her yer karanlıktı.

Kaşını almasını öğrettim

Kızınızla neler yaşadınız kabullenme döneminde?
Yatağının altında cımbız, yastığının altında törpü bulduğumda tuhaf oldum. Sonra “Oğlun gitti, o öldü” dedim. Gittim makyaj çantası aldım. Nasıl kaş alınacağını gösterdim. Çünkü biliyorum ki ben bunları ona sağlayamazsam dışarıda, sağlıksız ortamlara girip çıkacak, o zaman daha da içim yanacak. Ben içim baştan yansın diye düşündüm. Hatta gittim, pazardan renkli renkli sutyenler aldım. Dolgulu sutyenleri ellerimle seçtim. İlk sutyeni ona takarken, öğretirken “Bak yavrum bu
böyle bağlanıyor, böyle ayarlanıyor” dedim. Ancak içimden de “Allah’ım ben ne
yapıyorum?” diye kahroluyordum. Sonra yine ‘Öbürü öldü, gitti’ diyordum. Onun bunlarla mutlu olduğunu görünce, ben de mutlu oluyordum.

Okuldan almak zorunda kaldım

Peki nasıl kabullendiniz?
Çocuğumun penceresine geçtim. O nasıl uyacak çevreye, okula? Emzirirken “Sana bir şey olsa canımı veririm” diye baktım. Daha sınavımın bitmediğini anladım. Sonra “Benim çocuğum kızmış, elbisesi yanlış dikilmiş” deyip kızımın
elinden tutmaya karar verdim.

O kadar kolay mı?
Hiç kolay değil. Deniz kenarında günlerce ağladım. Lise 2’yi bitirmişti. Çocuğumu
okuldan aldım.

Neden aldınız okuldan?
Çünkü tırnaklarını uzatmaya, saçlarını oksijenle açmaya başladı. Abartı başladı. Bir dershaneye gittim. “Böyle bir çocuğum var” dedim. Dışarıdan liseyi bitirdi sonra da üniversiteye hazırlandı. Çapa’da da iki yıllık uyum sürecine başlandı. Ve üniversite sınavı geldi çattı Sınava girerken doktorundan “Fakültemizde takip edilmektedir” diye bir yazı aldım. Nüfus cüzdanı mavi, kendi pembe. O kadar
gergindi ki, beklediği o lafı söyledim: “Kızım heyecanlanma…”

Kazandı mı peki sınavı?
İstanbul Üniversitesi’ni kazanmıştı ama dershanedeki hocaları cinsel kimliği nedeniyle zorlanabileceğini söyledi. Vakıf üniversitesine göndermeye karar verdik.
Transseksüel kimliğini bir tek dekan biliyor. Bu arada kız ismini aldı. Çapa’daki psikiyatri heyeti iki yılda veriyor onayı. Şu an hormonlar veriliyor

Anneannesi bağrına bastı
BU süreçte büyük oğlum bana çok destek oldu. En başta dedesini bilinçlendirdi. Babam “Kızım çocuğunun elini sıkı tut” dedi. Annem ise çok kızdı. Sonra bir bayram bizi kabul etti. Kızım ‘Ne giyineyim anne?’ diye sordu. “En şatafatlı eteğini giy ve kırmızı rujunu sür” dedim. Anneanne bizi kapıda karşıladı. “Ben hep bir kız torunum olsun istiyordum” deyip bağrına bastı kızımı. 68 yaşında bir kız toruna sahip oldu.

Evladınızdan vazgeçmeyin
Önce çocuğum dedim, sonra kız demeye başladım. Baktım hoşuna gidiyor, Kız buraya gel, kız şöyle yap demeye başladım. Hem kendim alışıyorum hem onu sevindiriyorum. Babasına gelince… Kızını sadece mail attığım fotoğraflarda gördü. Ben de oğlumu özleyince fotoğraflarına bakıyorum. Kızım oğlumun fotoğraflarının bir kısmını yırttı. Sakladıklarıma bakıyorum gizli gizli. O yokken. Bir de sünnet gömleğini saklıyorum. Gizli gizli ağlıyorum ama kızım oğlum için ağladığımı bilmiyor. Anası olmayanın hiçbir şeyi olmuyor. Ne işi, ne dostu, ne yasası,
hiçbir şeyi. Bu nedenle ne olursa olsun evladınızdan vazgeçmeyin…

Ümran AVCI / GAZETE HABERTÜRK, 17.10.2009

http://www.haberturk.com/haber.asp?id=179978&cat=200&dt=2009/10/17

YAY!  You made it!  As promised, here is MY MOST EMBARRASSING STORY.

Late one night, close to Halloween, I was laying in bed and got a text from my ex-boyfriend.  He was downtown and drunk and his “friend ditched him, so he needed a ride.”

Now, this guy held a special affection for me because he was my first real boyfriend, the first guy I ever fucked loved. He was super hot.  Like “he-was-a-model-for-NordicTrac” hot.  For reals.  And he was huge.  Like porn huge

He was also moving to Boston in a week, because he got into Harvard Business School.

Shit, you didn’t think I was gonna let some Joe Schmo pop my cherry, did you?

Sooooooooooooo, the guy was really hot and I was a dumb kid into douchenozzles and I was really okay with the One-Last-Hurrah-Booty-Call.

Who the fuck wasn’t, right?

So, I quickly put on sexy pajamas and a little makeup, and drove downtown.  Once there, I drove around until I found him standing on the sidewalk, dressed like a Chippendale dancer.

apparently, he and his buddy dressed as these two. however, my ex did not have man titties or a mullet.

No . . . really.

So he got in the truck, and within 5 minutes started molesting me.

“Come ooooon, juss take yer pants ooooff.”

“I can’t!  I’m driving, I’ll kill both of us.”

“Ah’ll take ‘em off fer you!”

Of course he couldn’t get them down very far, but that didn’t stop him from going to town.

So as we got closer to home, he got more aggressive.

“Juss pull over heeere.  Less have sex on the hood of the truuuck.”

“No!  It’s like 40 degrees out!  And we’re 5 minutes from my house!”

“Less do iiiiiiiit.”

We FINALLY got home and barely make it inside my apartment before he ripped all my clothes off.

I really don’t know what to say here.  He fucked me against the wall?  We moved to the bedroom and took advantage of my full-length-mirrored-closet?  We had a midget come watch, and I dressed in a furry costume?

ANYWAY, good times were had by all.

So the next morning we woke up, and he invited me to breakfast.  But first, I had to drive him back to his car downtown.  As we drove through my parking lot, I happened to look in my rearview mirror.

A car that looked like my mom’s was following me.  I thought it maybe it wasn’t hers though.  Then I saw the headlights flashing at me.  So I slowed down and the car pulled up on my left.

The ex and I looked at the car.

And MY DAD AND BROTHER looked back at us.

They saw their baby girl/big sister with jizz in her just-got fucked-fro hair, mascara-y raccoon eyes, and slutty pajamas.  WITH her unknown, never-before-met passenger, WHO WAS DRESSED LIKE A CHIPPENDALE DANCER

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.  OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD,” I said under my breath, as I rolled down my window, and the ex shoved his bowtie under his seat.

“Hey, I need to get into your apartment to get my phone charger,” my brother smirked in happiness, at catching me being a “bad kid”, while my father immediately snapped his head forward and refused to make eye contact.

So I turned off my car and fumblingly removed my keys, to get my apartment key off the ring.  At this point, I also looked at my ex.  All I saw was mortal terror in his eyes.

I silently handed the key over to my brother.  And we got the fuck outta there.

“Who were they?!?!?  Was that your dad and boyfriend?!?!”

“That’s my brother!!!  You think I’d fuck you if I had a boyfriend, Asshole?!?”

“I don’t know.  You think they know what happened?!”

“YES!!!  I could tell by the look on my brother’s face that he knew!!!”

“Did we throw the condoms away?!?!”

“That’s your job, Asshole, not mine!!!”

“I don’t remember throwing them away!!!”

“Did I move my bra and panties from the front door?!?!”

“Shit, I don’t know!!!”

“Ahhhhhhhh, fuck me sideways!!!”

Later, when I returned to my apartment, I, of course, investigated.

The condoms were under the duvet on the floor, so they were hidden.

However, my bra and panties were in front of the front door as soon as I opened it.

No one in my family has ever spoken of this again.  Except, of course, for my mom.

“So what have you been doing lately?  You been busy?”

She’s either a super pervy old lady, or was condemning me to hellfire and brimstone.

To this day, I’m still not sure.