I got a new hat when I was in Portland this weekend, just in time for Snowmageddon 2012 here in Seattle.  And for the record, I was in full (unintentional) rainbow colors on the way in to work this morning.  Red windproof pants, orange winter jacket, yellow crime scene tape themed scarf, green gloves and my blue hat.  GAY!

I’ve been using my mom’s laptop since I went on vacation and just today I happened to notice a file of photos from god knows when, of my dad and some friends on a camping trip in the mountains somewhere.  I have no idea when this was.  I have no idea who any of the guys in the other photos are.  I DO remember this little truck behind him and whenever I see photos of it I immediately get flashbacks to all those times we’d ride in it to the dump or he’d drive me to soccer practice or that awful recurring nightmare I’d have that my preschool teacher, Ms. Ruth, was chasing us all over town trying to kiss him.  That truck was one loud motherfucker and our dog always knew when my dad was coming home from work a good minute or two before he pulled up because he could hear it from blocks away.  Anyhow…this is my dad and I have no mental recollection of him ever looking like this because whenever I think back I just see him as how he looks now.  I have that red and white water jug in storage downstairs and those moon boots…do you remember moon boots?  They were soft and cushiony and I loved to wear them.  Also, my dad has always loved peanuts so it is no surprise that  there is a half-eaten bag in this photo.  This is the only time I have ever seen my dad wear anything resembling a hat.

These are the faces (well, one face and some hair) of divorce, my friends.  Today Janie and I celebrated our survival after a full year since the demise of our relationship.  We decided to commemorate the event with photos, champagne and s’mores.  I posted a photo of us on Facebook to commemorate the occasion and it made everyone confused and uncomfortable because some of them had no idea we weren’t together anymore and the rest have apparently never seen a couple of lesbians who are such good friends after ending their relationship – which is ridiculous because lesbians are always friends after their relationship ends.  It’s a rule.  It’s in the handbook they send with your toaster.