This is your life

And today is all you got now.

And today is all you'll ever have.

Are you who you want to be?

Krystle's/Cedar Springs

I don't want to be that Debbie Downer

I don't tell anyone how I really feel about anything because:

1. I only really feel it while I'm inebriated.
2. I don't want to be that person who's always being pathetic about everything. Because eventually people stop listening and stop inviting you places because they don't want to deal with your negativity.

Tonight, I admitted that I feel like this blog is a sort of memoir of me.

My Mom

4

It means finally getting to be myself. When I went off to college, I decided it was time to be me. I had been scared my whole life because there was a chance I wouldn't be who people wanted or liked. For me, being a teenager meant having a lot of friends. I realized I was having to make sure I had my stories straight and my act right when I woke up or went anywhere. It got so exhausting so when I went to OSU I decided to be myself and whoever liked it became my friend. It worked out wonderfully. It's sad when people keep themselves bottled up inside without letting people know the real them. Staying hidden in yourself isn't fair to you or anyone else.
Life is full of categories. Everyone falls into them. Gender, race, age, profession, and sexuality. In all other categories, I fall into an ordinary group. I find myself to be a pretty ordinary person. This gave me a way to stand out without trying. I don't have to put on a show or an act. I have a natural way to stand out and for me that's a big deal.
There are so many reasons why being gay means a lot to me. I find it crucial to be ones self and explore who you are without the fear of rejection. The ability to be unique through a natural channel gives a person a feeling of pride and accomplishment, even though it came naturally. Gay doesn't have to be a negative or scary word, it can be liberating and can end up giving someone a voice they never knew they had.

Belief

9/27/10

I’m reading Unnamed from that guy who spoke 2 weeks ago. I’m almost halfway through and I’ve highlighted every time he says "probably" and "I think" while referring to Biblical events.


"probably" synonyms:
apparently, as likely as not, as the case may be, assumably, believably, dollars to doughnuts, doubtless, expediently, feasibly, imaginably, in all likelihood, in all probability, like enough, maybe, most likely, no doubt, one can assume, perchance, perhaps, plausibly, possibly, practicably, presumably, presumptively, reasonably, seemingly, to all appearances.

"think" synonyms:
assume, believe, conceive, conclude, deem, estimate, expect, fancy, feel*, figure, gather, glean, guess, guesstimate, hazard a guess, hypothesize, imagine, infer, judge, presume, pretend, suppose, surmise, suspect, take a shot, take a stab, take for granted, theorize.

Lunch

It was good. And weird. And by weird I mean completely offensive other than the fact that it was my dad and he was being as gentle as he possibly could.

1. He thinks going to church would be better (and "cheaper") than seeing a therapist. I won't even go into that because it makes no sense. I love my father to the ends of the universe, but I hate that I have to sit there and listen to his nonsense about god when he knows full well how I feel about it. "You can get things from church you can't get anywhere else." Speak for yourself, my dear father. Not for everyone. He then proceeded to say that Islam and Buddhism are warped, but not Christianity. I'll stop there and let that statement sink in.
2. Supposedly, I drink too much. He knows this because Jill peruses through my facebook and points out things that mean I MUST be drinking or drunk. I decided to look myself. I only went back a month and a half but I only mentioned alcohol once, and it was in reference to a YouTube video. So, um, FAIL. I do admit that I may drink a little often but it's because I'm 23 and that's what my friends do when we hang out. We go out to hang out. I'm not an alcoholic. I don't drink away the pain. I'm glad you worry about me, but don't. If something's going to happen, it will. Because that would have been part of god's plan, anyway. Duh.

Time Stands Still

F.A.L.

Tonight was a good night. I wasn't looking forward to it, 'cause I'm a baby and like to be home early so I can lounge around pretending to think deep thoughts.

We met Ashley, Trevor, and Kristen at the Yucatan Taco Stand. The food was good and the drink was strong. Then Kristen ordered us all a shot. I was the only one who knew it was Patron, who'da thought??

Now I'm fixating on the subject of reincarnation. Not the kind where you die and are reborn into a chipmunk or something but the kind where you die and are reborn into a completely different person and are unaware that you ever existed before. The life in front of you is the only life you have. That scares me because if that's the case, this is my "lucky" life. Being in America may suck since I'm American and can see how fucked up everything is, but compared to most places in the world, America is a fucking royal palace. Angela doesn't believe in reincarnation at all and I hope she's right because I sure as hell don't want to be reborn into Pakistan where I could get stoned for "adultery" aka because my husband wants a new 14 year-old bride. Not FML. Fuck another life.

On a final note

Dallas Cowboys can eat shit.

JK. That diet is probably getting old for them right about now.

Claw and Antlers.

I'm not emotional

about things that are personally important to me. I didn't cry when my Gamma died. I didn't cry at my Grandma's viewing. I didn't even know my great-grandmother died until recently. I thought she did but I couldn't remember. My Grandpa just got a stint put in his heart today and I was all "oh, cool" about it. P.S.- I knew/know these people well.

When Liz's Grandpa died, I balled my eyes out.

When a TV show has a sappy moment, I tear up.

What's wrong with me?

Slapstick

"I wish that people who are conventionally supposed to love each other would say to each other, when they fight, "Please — a little less love, and a little more common decency." -Kurt Vonnegut

Draco Malfoy

Katie met him yesterday. Forgot to mention that. Kinda neat.

Texas Rangers

made it to the World Series for the first time ever. It seems as though I'm an avid fan now. I'll be rep'n my T hat in New York! hehehe.

Memory of the day: I used to make my mom or dad stop on the side of the road in Rocky Mount or Nashville to let me pick cattails. I don't know what my fascination was.

On a new note, I didn't go out last night or tonight. I can't remember the last time I stayed in 2 weekend nights in a row. Not unless I was out of state. Crazy! I like being coherent! Sort of.

Goodnight.

Almost-Birthday Girls

Erin

10.28.90

Katie

10.28.90 + 4 minutes

Erin

Today

Erin is coming home from UCA for the weekend. University of Central Arkansas, fyi. We are celebrating her and Katie's birthday Saturday. I got Katie tickets to see a Michael Jackson symphony performance at Bass Hall. I hope she likes it. I think Erin is gonna give me some money and they'll be from us both since Katie is hard to shop for. Who knows if Katie will get Erin anything, haha. Erin requested Nike Tempo shorts so I'll probably be getting those even though she already has 2 pair and said that DJ's mom is getting her some, too. Whatevs, I'll save the receipt. I'd like to get her TOMS but they are hard to find in stores and their sizes are tricky. Well, that, and I don't know the size of Erin's feet. Oh, or I could get her this sweet bright purple Texas Ranger flatbill hat I saw the other day. (her school color is purple) She doesn't wear hats, though, so that'd be pointless cause I'd basically be giving DJ a gift and heaven forbid that happen. This is a lame post.

So, my Pandora QuickMix goes like this:

• Sufjan Stevens
• The Books
• Sigur Ros
• Shaggy
• Walt Disney
• Bruce Hornsby
• Mariah Carey & Whitney Houston
• John Williams
• Enya
• Boyce Avenue

I need like 2 more stations to be ultra-eclectic and shit!

Still lame? Probably.

For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti

High School Reunion?

My ten year reunion is in 2015. I have a while. I'm almost certain that by then, I'll still cringe at the thought of going. I don't want to face all the assholes from that place. Not that they were rude to me specifically. It was just hard fitting in unless you were "one of them." I definitely wasn't one of them. I wasn't in a group of friends at all. One of the most vivid memories of my high school days were eating lunch alone in the locker room bathroom stalls during my sophomore year. My main focus every day was getting through lunch. Then I was okay the rest of the day. By the time I was a junior I could go off-campus for lunch. Thank goodness. Then no one would see how alone I was.

I'm so different now. As is everyone else in the world from 5 years ago, so that's not saying much. But I'm really different. I have a girlfriend now and I had a boyfriend then. I have friends. Lots of friends. Who want to hang out with me. More than I'd like sometimes, to be honest. Now I'm craving alone time. Or have I always been alone? Just in different ways?

I haven't figured that out, yet. But I do know that I'm thankful I found a good group of friends to surround myself with. I'm also thankful for my amazing family. And for having a degree. And a job. And a home.

Having said that, fuck a reunion! I'm going to try my hardest to be able to use the excuse that I live too far away to attend. Wish me luck!

I may have jumped on the bandwagon

3

What does being gay mean to you? I was asked by a good friend to write whatever I felt about this question. It took me a while to mull over in my mind and I finally came to this conclusion: To me, being gay doesn't mean anything more or less than the fact that, upon the realization that I am in fact gay, I completed my true identity. Growing up in a society where little boys played baseball, caught bugs and just plain loved getting dirty then went on to grow up to be big boys who played football, caught the girl and still loved getting dirty, I felt very out of place. I didn't know why this was. Maybe I just didn't like sports or bugs or even getting dirty. Or maybe I just didn't like girls. I always knew something was different about myself and that something separated me from the other little boys in school but never knew what it was. It's the norm in America for people to follow their set paths, so to speak. Specifically, if you're born a boy, you are to grow up and marry a nice, pretty girl, have a family and live happily every after. If you are born a girl, you were expected to find the guy who treated you better than anyone else and who would be willing to marry you and give you that family that your parents, grand parents, friends and society just knew you'd have. But what if, by some unknown force, I wanted to find that boy? What if I wanted that one guy who treated me better than anyone else in the world? For all the straight people of the world, let me ask you this: Do you remember when you started liking the opposite sex? Think way back to your early adolescence when those weird feelings started to surface and you were that little girl and who started to actually like that little boy that bullied you or when you were that little boy that really didn't mind getting cooties from Susie-what's-her-name. That was probably a confusing time. You likely went and asked your mom or dad about these feelings that you were having to which they probably said something to the extent of, "Sweetie, you just have a crush on (insert opposite sex's name here)." You probably thought about this for a little while and even talked about it with your friends and after some time, you just slid right into that niche that society so nicely set for you. The end, right? Not for me. Do me a favor and take off your shoes, then slip mine onto your feet for a second. On the playground, all I wanted to do was play house with the cootie-ridden girls. All I could think of when that boy pushed that girl was "Why can't he push me?" All I wanted to do was bake cookies with my mom, play with my neighbor's dolls and stay as clean as humanly possible. However, not once was I told this behavior was okay. Not once did my parents, peers, teachers, or anyone else tell me that it was okay to be me because that was all I was doing. No one ever told me what gay was or what I would feel if I were gay. Most people tend to hide behind their beliefs and, as a result, were completely blinded to the fact that I was suffocating in my own body and that I was dying to let my true self out. Straight people are not forced to stifle who they are. In fact, they are encouraged to be themselves whereas, if I ever mentioned my feelings to someone, they just told me what I was feeling was a phase and it would pass. My shoes felt too tight and no one told me that I was not only trying to wear them on the opposite feet on which I was told but that it was alright to do so! As stated earlier, I said that I completed my true identity when I finally accepted that I was gay. Yes, I am gay. I am a homosexual male that does, in fact, like other males whether or not this fact is comprehensible, but I would like to say something that I don't think a lot of people realize. I, Reice Cameron Raudry, am also a book worm, a jazz connoisseur, a lover of people, dogs and court T.V. I love good wine, food and movies. I am someone's friend, someone's son, someone's enemy. I attend college, concerts and parties. I cry when I'm sad, laugh when I'm happy, sleep when I'm tired and shiver when I'm cold. I have feelings just like everyone else and I have a pulse just like everyone else but most importantly, I am a human, just like you. The only difference: I have a sexual preference that differs from yours. Knowing this, the fact that I truly know who I am, what I like and who I love, solidifies the person that I am. I now whole-heartedly know that I am me.

We Cry

8/20/10

Do you ever wonder if you’ve said or done something that no one else has ever said or done? I had one of those moments yesterday afternoon. I was driving home in the fast lane and I saw a piece of garlic bread tumbling down the median. That’s one tough son-of-a-bitch. Probably Texas Toast. Ha, Texans and their cocky ways.

That story made no sense. I’m sure all the people in the fast lane saw that damn Texas Toast. Now I’m upset! I want to be original and have an original thought. Like I’ll ever know what an original anything is. But as long as I think it’s original, it’s all good.

I like turtles

• Northpark + thousands of zombies = Infinite happiness
• Drinking so much I threw up in the boys AND girls restrooms(whichever I could make it to first and sadly, yes, they were next to e/o) = not cute
• Hipstamatic prints
• Cowboys suck (the Dallas ones)
• Chicas Locas! ha. just kidding.

Zombie Walk 2010

ATX

I think it's about time to venture back to 6th Street.

I saw this game like 3 or 4 years ago

Ha

40-pound Fatty

My dad nicknamed me that when I was little. Big little. I don't have a complex, though. Just in case you were worried. Anyway, I wanted to tell a memory since those are fun.

In North Carolina, Haley and I would ride our bicycles to the L&L gas station to buy candy cigarettes. I thought I was the shit with my fake cigs. And bubble tape. Can't forget the BT.

The gas station was probably half a mile away or less. Just up the street, past the neighborhood pool and golf course. That half mile was literally the most grueling bicycle ride of my life, each and every time. I think I may have even needed someone with a truck to come pick us up sometimes because I was that "exhausted."

Oh, childhood. Well, I guess I'm still this way. Oh, life! :)

2

To me, being gay is wrong. I mean, that’s what I’ve been told my entire life, so then it’s true, right? That’s something I have debated with since the first time I realized that I was strongly attracted to another girl, and this inner debate has created a whirlwind of emotions that are impossible to tame. You know, there are people who think people aren’t gay, they are just hurt. But I beg to differ. I had the best family life. I had all the friends and all the acceptance I could ever want. I didn’t have the capacity to feel the hurt and pain that counselors tell me are characteristic of people who are attracted to members of the same sex.

So why was I blindsided in seventh grade with feelings for a girl I had never met? I mean, I was obsessed. Why was I never able to get the butterflies before dates with guys, and why, even when I long with every cell in my body to be “normal”, am I completely overtaken with desire for sexual, emotional, and mental connection strictly with females?

That’s what makes me know. This is who I am. I can’t change how I feel, and I don’t want to. Being gay makes me a stronger person. Not a stronger person than a straight person, or a stronger person than if I were straight. I am a stronger person because I am able to realize that I am different in a way that most people don’t accept, and I don’t deny myself real connection with another human being to obtain acceptance from those people.

I know that one day, being gay will be the same as belonging to a culture, and truly, that’s what I want. I go to Pride because its fun. But in reality, I don’t agree with it. I think that if we want being gay to be accepted, we need to treat it like its normal. Straight people don’t have marches. Gay people are allowed in straight clubs- so we should go. We should be normal, and surround ourselves with people who don’t see as us gay, they see us for who we are. I don’t want to be defined as a gay person. I want to be defined as any other person would be- with words like thoughtful, smart, profound, and funny.

King of Wishful Thinking

NYC

I like to make itineraries that don't get followed. K go:

Depart DFW Saturday early A.M. > 1 hour layover in Philadelphia > arrive at LaGuardia in the afternoon

Saturday:

• Grand Central Station
• Rockefeller Plaza
• Times Square
• Top of the Rock

Sunday:

• The High Line
• Empire State Building
• Central Park
• The Met
• MoMA
• Museum of Natural History
• Guggenheim
• Circle Line Sightseeing Cruise

Monday:

• Coney Island
• Ground Zero

Depart LaGuardia > 3 hour layover in D.C. > arrive at DFW late Monday

My Dad

Edge of a Sword

I feel like I'm on the brink of contentment and suicide. Gratitude and resentment. Insanity and clarity.

Mostly insanity.

Plano Balloon Festival

Letter from a friend to her mom

Mom,

It has been brought to my attention a few times over the past couple of months that you are extremely misguided where my beliefs, personality, and intent are concerned. I have let it slide because it is easier to not make an issue out of things, but it's gotten to the point where I really have to speak my mind or I am going to harbor unhealthy amounts of resentment.

Firstly, I would never in my lifetime, try to change someone's beliefs. It is the furthest thing from my mind or desires. I absolutely respect everyone's individual beliefs and their right to hold them. I may completely disagree with those beliefs, and I will not hold back from voicing my opinion and beliefs if the conversation arises, but doing so does not mean I am on a mission to destroy every Christian that I can. If someone holds beliefs that I do not, and we have a discussion about said differing beliefs, then I would hope the person would be secure enough in those beliefs that someone coming from an alternative view would not be a threat to them, and would only present a chance for discourse. It is extremely offensive to me that you feel the need to even warn or plead with my brother that he not let me make him not believe in god, as if that is something I even have on my mind. It just seems like you have this view of me as some malicious individual that I most definitely am not. When I am with people that do not share my beliefs, we 99% of the time, do not discuss those things because it allows us to remain friends without wanting to strangle each other to death over our differences.

Secondly, it slightly boggles my mind that you warn such things and are so worried about them when you yourself do that exact thing nearly every time I see you. I guess it's ok for you to disregard and question my beliefs, because you are a Christian and I am an Atheist, and the bible tells you so. Please realize that my belief in god ended when I was 14, and before that I was skeptical. It has only strengthened as I have grown older and learned more, experienced more. While you see me as a fallen Christian who has lost her way and will eventually find it once again, I have to emphasize that I am an adult with intelligence enough to form a belief, learn and realize things that only strengthen that belief, and I will never suddenly drop them because the great god in the sky suddenly makes inexplicable sense to me. If your god chooses to banish all people who do not follow him, to an eternity of torturous hell, no matter how wonderful they were, how they lived their lives, what they did, what was in their hearts, then I truly want no part of such a petty and infantile creator. Being that I do not believe in this, I am not worried about my afterlife, and you really should not be either. If asking a man into your heart is the sole ticket to a wondrous afterlife, then congratulations to all the completely evil bastards who had the foresight to do so, and get into heaven while billions of amazing people do not. I want no part in such a ridiculous system, and honestly don't think I would enjoy the overwhelming number of completely worthless people that will be populating heaven. Realize I am not referring to you when I say this. I just want you to understand these things, because right now it seems like you most certainly do not.



I couldn’t have said it better.

Rack

8/23
What a lame word. One syllable. Say it. Rack. Thank goodness it has multiple meanings or else I wouldn’t write about it. What exactly is a rack? A towel rack. You hang towels from a bar that’s attached to a wall. Someone back in the day (saying ‘back in the day’ makes me not have to think of an accurate date) must have invented it. Then they tried to dangle from it and it broke off from what it was hanging on and they yelled "RACK" as they fell to the ground. Someone=monkeys. I believe that is exactly what happened and if anyone wants to argue that, I welcome them to my table of knowledge.

Ah, another form of rack. To rack someone can be slang for hitting a guy in the balls. I may have made that one up but definitely not the first meaning.

The last meaning: I told McGuire to say any word and that I’d write about it and she chose rack. I wonder what she's thinking about! Sorry I had to out you Mc, but I didn’t want to seem like a douchebag writing and thinking about racks all by myself. :)

Silly

1

You ask me what being gay means to me. As I plow through the words and phrases that cloud my mind upon the mention of this word, it’s inevitable that I come to this conclusion: being gay, to me, is a contradiction of terms. Now, before you start to judge, and question my belonging in the gay culture, hear out my explanation. One who comes out should automatically feel a sense of freeing. When I recall mentioning the idea of this word and its relation to me, I strongly remember feeling a sense of relief. However, as time went on I couldn’t help but feel trapped. When I first started delving into the gay community I realized that I didn’t necessarily fit in with the crowd. I’m a strong believer in equality. When I say strong, I’m understating my position on the subject. I believe all are created equal, not just gays, but blacks, Mexicans, Muslims, Christians, atheists, etc. Everyone deserves a chance at happiness. However, when you start setting yourself apart from the other minorities, as is natural, you do nothing more than create yourself unequal. The "gay" parties, and the "gay" dinners, and the "gay" friends were annoying to me. I know I sound as if I’m preaching, but please stick with me and I’ll level with you towards the end. Being gay suddenly became a cage, and I felt guilty to hang out with straight people. As I started to drift from my gay friends and became stronger friends with straight people, I couldn’t help but feel trapped in their group either. I can’t tell you how many times I heard the saying "I have no problem with gay people, as long as they don’t hit on me". Their ignorance and inability to see both sides of the equation aggravated me. Now to defend my honor and explain that I’m not at all preaching to you, I have come to realize that I can’t judge people on how they see the world, and I can’t stereotype gay people to all be the same. There are a few gay people I know who DON’T set themselves apart, just the same as there are a few straight people who could care less if I was gay, if I was straight, if I was bi, or even transsexual. But I can’t help to continue to feel trapped, not so much by those surrounding me anymore, but more by the thoughts consuming my mind. Fear of the future, of commitment, of uncertainty. Will I meet someone? Will I have kids? Will I lose my family? Am I really gay? If I come out, will people hate me? Being openly gay, an action that should bring one clarity and happiness, brings me happiness that is sadly overpowered by confusion and inner debate.

Weekend

This weekend went well. Took Katie to the Texas State Fair Friday with some friends. She even rode the huge ferris wheel! And fed a giraffe.

Saturday was Sara Bareilles. I'm in love with her. But that's nothing new.

Now it's Sunday and I have to work tomorrow! Sad :(.