Content Warning: Weird stuff. You've been warned.

Monthly Archives: March 2016

I know, I know, it’s fiction and it’s not supposed to be perfect. But, I just… look, there are some improvements to be made, ok?

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Scene 3: Jamie Leaves For The Wedding

JAMIE is rushing around, in a hurry to finish tying his tie, grab his coat, keys, etc.

JAMIE: God, I’m going to be late.
GIRLFRIEND WHO APPARENTLY HAS NO NAME: It’s just ’round the corner, you’ll make it.
JAMIE: You sure you don’t mind me going without you?
GWAHNN: No, really. You know them better, and I think it would be hard for both of us if I came along. I’ll send them a nice note later.
JAMIE: I’m sorry it had to end like this, but I appreciate that we were able to talk it out last night. I love you, but that doesn’t give me the right to keep you in a relationship you’re unhappy with.
GWAHNN: I know. And I appreciate that you were able to respect my needs, and that I felt safe in being honest with you about how my feelings toward you have changed. You’re a good guy… I just don’t think you’re the right guy for me.
JAMIE: I understand. It hurts, but I think we’ll both move past this in the end. Maybe we’ll even stay friends?
GWAHNN: Maybe so. After all, mutual love and respect doesn’t go away just because we’re not dating anymore. The things we liked in each other are still there, even if the romantic feelings are gone. I’m so glad this wasn’t a nasty breakup.
JAMIE: Right? Can you imagine if we didn’t have such strong communication skills and you felt so trapped in our relationship that you started cheating, half-hoping I’d catch you with my friend or brother or something, and  I’d be forced to do the work of breaking up so you didn’t have to?
GWAHNN: Ugh! That would be terrible! Now go, or you will actually miss it.

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Scene 5: Colin Strikes Out

COLIN wanders through the office with a basket of fruits, baked goods, and various food items. He very obviously ignores the men in the office and is speaking only to the women.

COLIN: Best sandwiches in Britain. (She shakes her head uncomfortably.)
COLIN: (to another) Try my lovely nuts? (She tries to ignore him.)
COLIN: (to yet another) Beautiful muffin for a beautiful lady. (She tugs self-consciously at her cardigan, pulling it closer together.)
COLIN: (arriving at MIA’s desk) Morning, my future wife.
MIA: Colin, you need to knock that off. You’ve been coming in here and hitting on me for ages, and I think you’re already well aware that your advances aren’t appreciated. But just in case, let me make it clear for you: I am not interested. Stop treating my workplace like it’s a Lady Zoo. I am not here for your enjoyment; I am here because this is how I earn my living and in fact has nothing to do with you. Hitting on women incessantly and indiscriminately  won’t get you laid, which seems to be what you so desperately want. It just makes you creepy. Women don’t like to sleep with creepy dudes.
COLIN: Wow, you’re right. I’ve been really disrespectful and inconsiderate of you, and everyone else here. I guess I’m just really insecure about what my place in the world is as a man. There’s a lot of toxic messages in our culture about how men and women are ‘supposed to’ interact; mostly it revolves around men feeling powerful by treating women as objects for personal gratification and not the full and complex human beings they truly are. Maybe I need to spend some time reflecting on how I could be better as a person before I try to find a girlfriend.

The office breaks into a standing ovation.

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Scene 13: Jack And Judy On Set, That Part Where They Talk About Traffic While She’s Half Naked And Neither Of Them Make A Big Deal Out Of It And Martin Freeman’s A Perfect Gentleman Because Of Course He Is And Joanna Page Is Absolutely Charming Because Of Course She Is

This scene is perfect in every way and I staunchly refuse to listen to anyone who would try to tell me otherwise. I just put it in here because it’s really great and we should all aspire to be more like Jack and Judy.

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Scene 51: Where Karen Tries To Bring Up The Fact That One Of Harry’s EMPLOYEES Has Been HITTING ON HIM, SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK DUDE

HARRY and KAREN are getting undressed and preparing for bed after the Christmas party.

KAREN: That was a good night. Though I felt fat.
HARRY: Oh don’t be ridiculous.
KAREN: It’s true. Nowadays the only clothes I can get into were once owned by Pavarotti.
HARRY: I always think Pavarotti dresses very well.

A slight pause. Karen hesitates, then:

KAREN: Mia’s very pretty.
HARRY: Is she?
KAREN: You know she is, darling. I felt really uncomfortable with the way she was acting toward you. You do know she’s flirting with you, right?
HARRY: (Sighs) Yes, I do. I just… don’t know what to do about it. She’s a work colleague, you know? I’m worried things would get awkward if I said anything about it. And to be honest, in a way I sort of like the attention. I mean, I know you love me and still find me attractive, but it’s hard to see myself get older and older, and wonder if I’m still the man I once was. It feels good to be flirted with. That doesn’t mean I want to pursue it beyond that, of course, but… it is a nice ego boost.
KAREN: I understand that. I’m getting older too, you know. I know how nice it is to feel like you’re not totally invisible. But, darling, if you don’t set boundaries with her, she’s going to continue to escalate. If you think it’s awkward to turn her down now, just think how much more awkward it’ll be if you get caught sleeping with one of your employees. Even if she goes so far as to force herself on you, it’s not very likely anyone will believe you, since we live in a society where, infuriatingly, sexual assault committed against men is treated as a joke. Are you really willing to lose your reputation, possibly your job, just to be polite and avoid an awkward conversation?
HARRY: Well when you put it like that, of course not. You’re right. I need to put a stop to this before it goes any further.
KAREN: Thank you, my darling.

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Scene 53: Harry Leaves The Office To Go Christmas Shopping, Mia Tries To Seduce Him While Maintaining A Sheen Of Plausible Deniability

HARRY: Right. Back at three. Christmas shopping, never an easy or a pleasant task.
MIA: Are you going to get me something?
HARRY: Er… I don’t know, I wasn’t planning on it. Where’s Sarah, by the way?
MIA: She couldn’t make it in today. Family thing.
HARRY: Well then I will take her at her word and certainly not insinuate that she drank too much and is taking an avoidable day off, which even if she was does not mean that she deserves our derision and joking behind her back. I’m sure whatever reason she didn’t come in today was a legitimate one. See you later.
MIA: Yes. Looking forward to it. A lot.
HARRY: Excuse me?
MIA: Looking forward to seeing you. You know.
HARRY: Mia, this sort of behavior is inappropriate, it makes me uncomfortable, and it needs to stop right now.
MIA: What? What behavior?
HARRY: You are being intentionally suggestive, and I don’t like it. From here on out I would appreciate it if you kept our conversations focused on work-related topics.
MIA: I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was making you uncomfortable. I just find you really attractive, and I thought it was fun to flirt.
HARRY: Be that as it may. I am in a monogamous marriage, and I am your direct superior here at work. This puts me in a very awkward position, not to mention endangering both our jobs, and I need it to stop.
MIA: Understood. I apologize. Moving forward, I will work to keep our interactions strictly professional.
HARRY: Thank you, I appreciate your understanding.

Harry goes Christmas shopping. Nobody buys any necklaces and nobody finds that necklace in a coat pocket later on, only to realize on Christmas fucking Eve that he fucking gave the necklace to someone else, and it was probably expensive too and I doubt they’re so well-off that it wouldn’t be a totally unnoticeable expense, and nobody has to see Emma Thompson start to cry while straightening out the bed and then have to put on a happy face so the kids don’t suspect anything, even though she clearly feels alone and hurt and totally unappreciated and unloved, because trust me that is the most heartbreaking moment in the whole movie and I fucking cry every time and it’s the WORST.


Um, hi. It’s me, Penny. I’ve been away for a while.

Life got real hard there for a minute, you guys. And then it got easier. And then it got hard again. I assume writing is like riding a bicycle – you never forget how to do it? But… well, I’ve never been great at riding bicycles. And there are a lot of hills around here. And I’m super rusty. And so is my bicycle. Or it would be, if I had a literal bicycle and not a vaguely metaphorical one.

Woof.

Where do I even start?

Sullivan and I are well and truly divorced now. It wasn’t all that hard in the doing-things sense; the paperwork got submitted and looked at by the state, it got reviewed and approved and stamped and signed, sealed, delivered (I’m yours! Ooh baby). There’s a new name on my driver’s license, one I chose that’s all my own. And that feels good. It feels like a concrete step away from some parts of my past I’ve been struggling to leave behind. New name has been my official name for over a year now.

Fun fact: Banks can not EVEN DEAL with it when you change all your names. Last name? Easy. First name? It’s been done, not insurmountable. First, middle, and last? Blank stares…. crickets… ominous clouds gather… a wolf howls mournfully in the distance… a wild wind tosses leaves across a cold pale moon… the pine trees rustle and sway… a raven bursts into flight from the shadows with a raucous cry…  a quiet, soaking rain begins to fall… awkward cough.

It was hard in the emotional sense. In the space of a few months the conversation turned from being best friends, supporting each other, staying in each other’s lives… to jealousy, insecurity on both sides, squabbles about mostly petty things, and what I can only imagine must have felt like a pretty big betrayal.

I, uh… I fell in love. With a dude.

Not like I meant to. I was pretty invested in the image of myself as a lesbian. I was pretty sure of myself for a while there. I had an amazing summer romance with a lady I fell head-over-heels for; a lady I am still fortunate enough to count a dear friend. I knew she was moving away when we started dating, and that was fine. I didn’t want to give her any reason at all to rethink that decision, so I learned how to love deeply and let go freely. All that is to say, if I needed to prove anything to myself about my sexuality, I think I did. I’m definitely not straight.

Sullivan disliked that I was dating women while we lived together, waiting for the lease to run out. Tried to be supportive; but, I think, couldn’t shake the feelings of possessiveness that come with several years of monogamous marriage. Maybe he found it threatening. Maybe he didn’t like confronting such clear evidence that our marriage was ending. I don’t really know; he never told me, it just came up in hurtful ways. It made for some very mixed messages. We had a hard time communicating our needs and boundaries to each other. We argued. The lease ended. We moved out.

This dude, The Dude, was someone I knew through a shared hobby and a mutual ex-girlfriend. He had also been divorced. He was from the same city as me; in fact, he and Sullivan were in the same high-school class. (Sullivan was not impressed by this; I found it fascinating.) After Sullivan and I split, he invited me over for wine and trauma-bonding. We drank and laughed and took long walks and talked about our Feelings, Of Which There Are Many. By the end of the evening it was clear to me that this was a friendship I very much wanted in my life. I became close with The Dude. Trusted him because it was clear he wanted nothing from me but friendship, and that made me feel comfortable and respected.

I don’t really know what happened there, exactly. I mean, I fell for him and we started dating and so on and so forth but… like, how? Why? Wherefore? I dunno. As I suppose most of these things happen, it just happened. I loved spending time with my best buddy, and at some point I realized I loved my best buddy. I wanted things from my best buddy that were more than just best-buddy things.

Awkward cough.

We quietly started dating. I was very confused about what that meant for my newly-formed sexual identity, but pretty quickly decided that the whole point of the exercise was to be less concerned about how anyone anywhere thought I should express my attractions and desires and just kinda threw all the labels out the window. These days I go by queer, or mostly-gay. Or, if I’m in a particularly self-effacing mood, The City’s Least Successful Lesbian.

Sullivan was not thrilled to find out about me and The Dude. There was a confession on my part and some very angry highway driving on his part. By the way, people, for the love of – DON’T CONFESS THINGS IN MOVING CARS. JUST DON’T. DON’T EMOTE AND DRIVE PLEASE. We were fine, nothing happened, he didn’t do anything scary but fuck – come on. Emoting, much like driving, deserves one’s full attention. Never the twain should meet. Leave them twain. The twainest of twains.

Interactions between me and Sullivan got colder after that. More distant. More terse. It all sort of fell apart. I wanted to stay friends but could understand that he needed time to process, to decide if he wanted me in his life, to forgive whatever hurt I’d caused by destroying the illusion that the breakup of our marriage was solely about my sexuality. There are things I feel about a lot of this now, there are lots of things I could say about what went down and how it happened… but I am doing my best, with the benefit of hindsight, to try and see it from his perspective this time around. In the interest of being honest and not hiding things, in the middle of signing paperwork and exchanging stuff and figuring out what our relationship looked like now, I did sort of drop a bomb.

Ultimately, I did what I could. I told him I hoped to remain friends, but wouldn’t push the issue. He could reach out when he was ready, and I would wish him well in the meantime. I unfriended him on social media, hoping it would give me some freedom from second-guessing everything I posted, fearing he would see it and be upset. Trying to protect him from further hurt. Fearing that just being myself and settling into this new life would seem, to him, like I was rubbing it in his face. That’s part of why I stopped writing here, too. I sent texts for holidays and birthdays – just to say I remember you, you were important to me, the door is open if you want. I’m willing to talk, to listen. If you want. If you want. 

I don’t think he did. The replies came later, got shorter, stopped coming at all. He moved away, spent his birthday with my family, which I found out through Facebook. This still disturbs me; not that my family is close with him, but that they never mention it to me. Like most uncomfortable things, they just pretend it doesn’t exist. Later, they told me he moved again; going back to school in a different state. I hear he’s been seeing someone. (Okay, the few times I’ve ill-advisedly looked him up on Facebook tell me he’s been seeing someone.) I truly wish him all the best. I hope his life now is better than it ever would have been with me still in it.

I’m sometimes sad that we didn’t stay friends. Sometimes I think maybe it’s for the best, that we would have just clashed endlessly as we tried to become the people that we are now. People who are each different from the one the other married, and yet uncannily similar. So much has changed for me that it feels really odd to step this far back, to remember how it was, who I was then. Reading back through the archives here feels like I’m reading about someone else. Someone very familiar to me, but whom I disagree with on some key points. Sometimes it all bubbles to the surface and seems very fresh; sometimes it seems a lifetime ago. Like clothes in the back of the closet that don’t fit anymore and aren’t really my style – is that mine, or did someone else leave it here  at some point and I forgot who it belonged to?

So. I guess I have three years’ worth of posts to catch up on. Sorry I disappeared for so long, guys. Let’s get reacquainted, shall we?



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