Late Night Latte

Red. R and I spent Friday at the pool, getting very excited when the sun peeped through the clouds. She got a sunburn. Later that evening she headed out to a Reds game. I went to J&L’s and drank raspberry mojitos with J. Yummy.

White. Amazingly I wore a white t-shirt to two different cookouts yesterday. Nary a spot. That’s a first. Especially since I ate my weight and then some in crap.

Blue. As in seasonal affective disorder. It’s grey again here today, and looks and feels more like April than July. It rained all day and most of the night on the 4th. And has left me feeling decidedly cheated out of something.

So that’s the less than celebratory Independence weekend around these parts.

Independence of another sort has been top of mind as well. This marks the first holiday since two very recent splits in the bio family — the crew who would normally host the family holiday activities among them. A few folks still gathered at my mom and dad’s, but I chose not to venture north since I’ll be there tomorrow.

 I also knew there’d be either snide remarks, downright disdain, or lots of tsk tsking aimed at those making the choice to split — whether they were in attendance or not. My southern baptist-influenced family has a hard time accepting that folks gotta do what folks gotta do. And it’s not always according to anyone’s plan.

Perhaps this is where that lesbian relationship reality training proves so beneficial. Y’know, that period when long-term meant maybe a year? Sure, lots of us are in/have been in longer relationships — but I’m not even shocked any more when those break up. Eight years. Wow. Sorry you couldn’t work it out. 14 years. Oh, at least the kids are older.

It’s just life. And folks doing what they gotta do for their own good.