Everything is on Hiatus

Funny how life has a way of making other plans the minute things are rolling along in the direction you want it to go. Until further notice, HOVpodcast.net and the podcast itself is on hiatus. Ryan is experiencing health issues right now, and has opted to stay with his folks until they have been resolved. I will be participating in NaNoWriMo 2017, which starts tomorrow. Work has been a challenge, to put it mildly. I am very glad I have awesome bosses and the people I work with are amazing. We are like a family, if that makes sense. We look out for each other, and share in the major and minor challenges that all of us face. I know it is crazy, but it is true.

Due to Ryan’s health issues, I have been feeling mildly triggered, and I remember how scared we all were when my dad was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Because of the epileptic seizures he had when he was younger, part of Ryan’s brain has died and it is re-routing itself, which is playing havoc on him. We are going on week 9 (that is not a typo) of persistent vertigo. He describes it as walking on a waterbed while the room is spinning. NOT fun. We tried to go celebrate our 5 year anniversary, and we had an okay time, but Ryan had to take several naps to rally his energy. We spent two nights in Lyons, Colorado in a tiny house hotel. We had to get used to using a 90 degree staircase to get to the sleeping loft. And using a tankless water heater to shower was interesting, to say the least. The place was nice, and although he struggled part of the weekend, we really did have a pretty nice anniversary. We had a really nice anniversary dinner, at this place called “The Fork.” All and all, it was not a bad time.

He called his mom, and told her what was going on. She freaked out, and wanted to come over to the house to “hug both of us,” and “go over some scheduling things with you.” Meaning me. She came over, and wanted to talk to me without him, never a good sign. However, she likes me and says he is really lucky to have me, so that is not an issue. Total opposite of Peter’s family, but we deal with that when we need to. She had obviously been crying, and she hadn’t slept since Ryan told her what was going on. She said we both did everything right, except not call her before. She wanted him to come home with her until this all is resolved. He got defensive and refused at first. Then he said he would think about it. Then she and I went on the porch and talked it over.

“The High Counsel has spoken,” she told him when we went back inside. “We have decided you need to let me take care of you. So I’m giving you tonight to process things and talk stuff over, and then I will be back in the morning to take you home for a while.” Ryan knew he was beat. Both of the most important women in his life just out-voted him. He just nodded his head. After his mom left, we had a long heart-to-heart. My worse fear is that he fall in the shower, or lose his balance and smack his head on some piece of furniture and lose consciousness, or is just simply not able to call for help. I feel much better about him being at his folks while I am at work or with Peter. It ensures he will have what he calls ‘adult supervision.’

And the other bonus is that Mama takes care of all the phone calls, making appointments, and transportation arrangements. This allows me not to miss work or stress out about getting everything done. She wanted a second opinion from Ryan’s childhood doctor, who is still his mom’s doctor, and got an appointment the next day. She recommended he see an ENT. He was waiting for the neurologist to schedule an MRI, and Mama got it scheduled for the end of the week. It was moved today to tomorrow afternoon, so we should know something in a few more days.

And I get to go over there any time I want. I am staying the night there two nights this week. I feel very welcome. Mama wanted me to come with him when she first suggested it, but it is not practical for me to stay there indefinitely with him. Peter is still a big priority, and he is being really supportive in letting me do what I need to when it comes to Ryan. He’s always been that way. It is one of the things I love about him. So we are trying to make some plans so I still get to spend physical time with both of the men I love. Ryan’s mom has five weeks vacation, and a big house that is mostly empty. So it works out one way or the other.

It is very frustrating for Ryan to have to pretty much put everything on hiatus, but his health (both mental and physical) comes first. I will try to update things as they happen on here. Until then, I am going to take it one day at a time.



Take Your ‘#MeToo’ and Shove It

Uncommon Graces

The day I was raped was the first time I wore a jean skirt. OMG, I was so excited. Was that the case with you too?

It was up against my green Firebird, just after eight o’clock. It was beginning to get dark. He pushed me against the car, whispered in my ear, and looked behind him to make sure he had an audience. I swear I saw my head go through the window. Was that the case with you too?

And when he was done, I’m not sure how I got home. But I remember his smile. I said “I’m okay” for two days. I tried to scrub him off my skin in scolding hot showers. Was that the case with you too?

For nine years, I couldn’t even say the word “rape.” He took away every success I would ever achieve. He destroyed me. He still owns my…

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Well Shit

So after almost a week, I finally heard from Poppy. She text messaged me sometime in the night with an angry tirade. She said I ‘outed’ her and posted her status. I don’t know what the fuck she is talking about unless she finally decided to read this blog, and even then, I gave her a pseudonym and said very little about her specifically. This blog is about me and my journey, and I will write about just that, with no apology. I have been trying to decide how to handle it if and when she decided to contact me, but she made tbe decision for me. I sent her a short text saying have a nice life, and that I never meant to hurt her. The truth. Then I blocked her number and erased all of our texts. Neither of us need to dwell on the past. I admit that I cared about her, but it was a far cry from love. If I have a regret, it is that I told her I loved her when I knew, deep inside, that I never really did. I let my emotions get the best of me. Hopefully, I have learned from this, and I won’t repeat that mistake again. If you are reading this, Poppy, I am sorry I hurt you, and I am really sorry I lied to both of us about that. I do wish you the best.


Breaking up is not that hard to do after all

I find I write here less and less these days, largely because of lack of time. I have been trying to do a balancing act of impossible proportions, and having even less time for myself than usual. This is because of dating a woman I will call “Poppy.” Poppy is a pre-op transgendered woman, and this brings with it a whole new set of challenges just simply because it is a new experience for me. Add to this that she has some serious issues that come with that for her, and she is dealing with a lot concerning her marriage breaking up, it was bound to unravel at some point. What finally broke us up, however, was her inability to try to become polyamourous. You don’t become poly: you either are, or you are not. You only make a choice to practice it or not. It is the same as saying someone chooses to be transgendered, or gay, or bi-sexual. It is not a choice to become any of these things. It is something one is born with. The only choice you make is to act on it or not act on it. Poppy could not become poly any more than I can ever go back to being monogamous. It is a fact, and I accepted it before I began a relationship with her. I knew that eventually she would either decide she could be polyamourous with me, which went against her nature, or she would decide to be true to herself. I knew the latter would happen eventually. It happened three days ago.

I know when you have a break up, especially if you are the breakee and not the breaker, you are supposed to feel at least a little sad. All I really feel is relief. Trying to justify my choices and defend who I am at my core was exhausting. Poppy was so angry at so-called Christians who spout hate for gays and transgendered people, and because I dare call myself a Christian, she took that anger out on me. I got tired of defending my belief system to someone who was never going to “get it.” It was like casting my pearls before swine. If you have read my blog, something she refused to do, you would see that I am anything but the typical Christian. And I don’t make any apologies for that.

The only sadness I feel is the loss of time we both spent spinning our wheels trying to force something that was never meant to be. She was miserable, and I was heading there. Us not being together is definitely for the best. I feel guilty that I don’t feel worse. I feel more for the loss of a friendship, than for the loss of the relationship. But at least what I feel is real, and pure, and honest. And that is something I can take some solace in.


Opening Up

So I have been dealing with a lot of PTSD shit for the past few weeks. It has sucked, to put it mildly. My girlfriend, Poppy has pointed out that I am very closed off at times, especially when it comes to talking about myself. This is something that has also been a complaint of Ryan and of Peter, as well. I always say that I just don’t find my life experiences all that interesting, but it goes WAY beyond that. Poppy, being an empath, sees right through me, and I hate myself for it. I don’t like being called out. I know no one does, but this is me. And since this blog is about me and my experiences, I think I better try to sort through what I am feeling here.

First of all, it is not that I am bothered by what has happened to me, per se. It is more that I am bothered by the negative emotions that those experiences stir up. And I think I know why. It started when I was a kid and my mom and I were not allowed to have our own emotions, our own thoughts, or our own opinions if they differed from my father’s. My mom had the strength and good sense to tell him off, but not in public. I don’t really remember them fighting in front of me, either, but I know they must have. My father expressed his frustration with my mother to my brother, and my mother expressed her frustration with him to me. What really jacked me up was that my father would pull the “women and children (especially female children) are to be seen and not heard and they should not speak unless spoken to” bullshit. And then he would spout Scriptures to back up his bullshit. My mom told him off, and I just swallowed it.

We also dealt with issues in our family by ignoring them and hoping they would go away. My brother has had a drug and alcohol issue for almost 40 years because of this garbage, starting when he was 15. I stayed in a loveless marriage because it was something my father wanted. After he died, it was only a matter of time before it imploded on itself. I figured out right about then that when you stuff things down the way I do, one of two things happen: one, you either explode onto the people you most love, or two, you implode on yourself and self-destruct. I have done both. This weekend, I exploded onto Poppy for calling me out on this. I am just lucky she and I agree that at the end of the day, what truly matters is that we love each other, and we work on communication more.

Read: I need to not shut down and hide when I am feeling something negative, like PTSD stuff. So I am working on it. After over 2 weeks of avoiding writing about it, the sting has left, but the after affects are going to be there for awhile. It sucks, but this is a package deal. So, although it is a much watered down version of things, it is a start.


I am writing again

So back in June I wrote a couple of poems which I will share at the end of this post. A lot has happened since my last post. First off, Comic-Con was amazing and having T here was awesome. We want her to come back next year already! Secondly, I have started seeing someone, but I don’t want to get into that too much. Ryan and Phil are both being super supportive. I had a chance to finally meet her at Comic-con after talking to her online and in text messages for over a month. That was a short meeting, however. Since then, we have had 2 dates and are planning a 3rd this next week. So we will see how it goes. My new job is amazing and my coworkers even more so. My mom had knee replacement surgery and got through it pretty well all things considered. She developed a nasty allergic reaction to the surgical glue on the bandages…but it stayed external and no infection in her body came of it. She is doing amazingly well. I have a massive sunburn. We will be recording our 99th episode of our podcast this weekend, and it is hard to believe it has been that long. (Check it out on HOVpodcast.net). That is pretty much all I have the spoons to write for now. I am working on a short story, and it will be posted here when I finish it. Oh and I had a birthday but we are not acknowledging it. Maybe it will go away. Lol. Here are the three poems I wrote on June 28th of this year.


I feel very old these days

Reading magazine articles about

Celebrating women who are “fabulous

at 47” and boast “perfect skin

after 40” and other such nonsense


I know I shouldn’t let it bother me

After all I am on the eve of my

44th birthday, hardly “the jumping off

place” of my sunset years into the abyss


of the unknown—which can be just

as exciting as it can be frightening

Either way, I know I should embrace it

instead of try to run from it


Fifty is still a long way off, no doubt

about that—but on the other hand,

I have no doubt that I will be “fabulous

at 47;” I have perfect skin now; and will

be just as gorgeous then as I am now


There is nothing to fear—I can only turn towards

the sunset and embrace its fading rays

to make it shine on, bright and brilliant



Love or hate or love again

Real or fake, butter or margarine

Health or illness, wealth or lack

One limb or two, straight or crooked back

“or” is a powerful word

Deceptively small and unobtrusive

We have the power to change the world



“Indian Clay”

Indian clay, rich, dark and hard

Grains of sand in the back yard

Covered by sand, treasure hidden

Wonders concealed by what might have been


Children dig deep for the black earth

Collecting grains of sand for all they are worth

Building up castles of fantasy and sand

Creating world of moats, roads and detailed lands


Reaching the bottom of steep columns

Harvesting rich, dark clay in fathomable volumes

Using Indian Clay to stabilize towers

Hoping to ensure their creations last beyond hours


Indian Clay, precious like solid black gold

A child’s desire for it never grows old

Mothers everywhere plagued by grubby fingernails

But one look from their child evokes forgiveness without fail


Indian Clay, Indian Clay, worth so much

The feeling of silk and roughness in the same touch

So different, yet so essential one to the other

Stronger when layered, More beautiful when joined together



Time Flies….

So just a quick update, because I haven’t written in over a month. The insurance thing turned out to be a scam. It pisses me off to talk about, so I will just skim over it and say that I will be scrambling for a while to catch up financially. It was a complete and utter waste of my time, and money I didn’t have. The good news is that I  found another job right away and my boss and coworkers are super nice and I think I will be there for a long time.

Next weekend is Comic-Con and Ryan and I’s friend T will be here on Thursday. We have a lot to do yet for her visit but we are really excited. This will be the first time in a long time I will be able to do all three days of it. I will write more after next weekend.





The ramblings of a poly chic