Chicken strips are not for lovers.

For those of you who don’t know, I work in the service industry.  I have no idea why I do it.  It’s the most awful job in the world.  I think I do it because that’s sort of what I got my degree in and now I’m stuck.  My parents are definitely not proud of me and they make that abundantly clear each and every day.  I’m a bartender and a server.  I work at two different restaurants for right now although I am thinking about dumping one of them.  

I actually like bar tending.  The art of it at least.  The problem is where I bartend, there is absolutely no creative freedom and everyone wants rum and cokes.  I find that boring. Not to mention the tips blow.  Where am I going with this… let’s see. So last week I showed up to work completely trashed.  I was dropping bottles and breaking glasses, and I almost served people booze who ordered non- alcoholic.  Long story short: I got sent home. 

 

I told all of my friends and Rae that I got sent home sick.  Which isn’t really all a lie. I actually did have a really bad cold and was stuffed up.  Though it is one of the most embarrassing things that has ever happened to me, I am thankful for it.  Here is why:

1.  It was the rock bottom that I needed. 

2. It made me analyze why I did it. 

 

Here is why I did it:

1.  My drinking heavily is just a symptom of a much more serious problem.  Maybe I’m a little depressed?  Probably because I live a lie, and that will take a toll on anyone.  

2.  I hate that job more than I ever realized. 

3.  I don’t enjoy my co-workers that much.  I’ve worked there for exactly one year and am only friends with one co-worker on facebook.  That’s kinda bizarre for the service industry.  

4.  My boss is always down my back and I wanted to confront him about why he gave my friday night shifts to some homely looking girl.  

5.  Because I was sick I think I wanted a little numbing.  My body ached.  

There it is.  I think those are all the reasons for the most part. It’s pretty simple.  

Today is my first shift back at that place since the incident.  I’m a little nervous and embarrassed.  I’m dying to see if anyone brings it up or asks me about it.  I bet no one will.  Except for this one guy Ben who’s a total douche ma goosh.  He has a really long pony tail.  The end.  That’s all you need to know about him. It says it all.  I’m sure you are all dying to know what happens tonight so I will update you on my next blog.  

So here’s my service industry sidebar for the day:

Rants from the grave.

Having a journal is like having a stack of letters that you never intend to send.  When I was 24 my mom read my journal from cover to cover.  It was invasion of privacy that I don’t think I will ever get over.  It sounds silly, but it was so traumatic. The scariest part about dying is knowing that someone will more than likely find your journals and figure out you were never really that great of a person.  When my mom became aware of the relationship Rae and I share she told me it felt like I had died.  I saw the sadness, anger in her face.  Man, I could see that I let her down.  There is no look worse than seeing how much you have disappointed someone.  I work so hard to make my parents proud, and once again I had failed.  That’s why I rather just live a lie and hide forever and let everyone else believe the fantasy that I am someone I’m not.  Aren’t I so selfless?

The other thing that sucks about dying is:

Going to hell.

I have accepted the fact that I am scared to death to go to hell.  It took me awhile to realize this is how I feel.  Jesus offers us freedom and love.  So why do I not feel free?  I don’t feel free because instead of worrying about being close to my Lord and being in communion with him, I am more concerned with what comes next and where I will end up.  The truth is that I have actually created hell on Earth for myself… and all to avoid hell! How ironic.  

I just don’t get how who I love and how I love them can send me to hell.  

 

Total sidebar here.  I really am not offended by the duck dude.

I mean, what did you expect his views to be on the gays and the blacks?  He thinks the way every other evangelical of his generation thinks.  I just don’t understand why people were shocked.  I also have to admit I do not watch Duck Dynasty at all.  I watched an episode for forty five seconds once and I was bored out of my mind.  I give them props though.  People love um.  

My question to the world is this: Why do we care what some guy who invented a duck whistle thinks when Sublimes’ “Date Rape” song is being blasted in every high school throughout America?  That song is vile and should be illegal.  I wouldn’t wish rape upon Hitler himself.  And I am a huge Sublime fan.  Badfish or bust.  

 

-Kathleen Coco

The middle.

I’m not gonna start at the beginning.  That would be silly.  How I feel about gay marriage, how I was raised, when did my relationship with my partner start, how I gave my life to Christ.  We will get to all that I promise.  But for now, let’s start in the middle.  The now. Nine days ago was new year’s eve.  I was in New York City watching the ball drop for the first time live.  When midnight hit I jumped up and down with all my friends and tried to catch some confetti on my tongue (which I eventually did but it cut my throat).  Wanna know what I really wanted to do when that ball dropped?  I wanted to grab my partner who I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without and give her a long passionate kiss on the mouth.  I didn’t though.  One of my friends Allison who actually knows about my partner and I was there and offered to distract the others so we could sneak away and kiss.  I declined for fear that it would be too suspicious and too much work for her.  This may seem like no big deal, but this is how I live each and every day.  The ‘no big deals’ start to add up and then you find yourself struggling to remember all of your lies.  Heck, I even forget if I’m a republican or democrat or if I payed my taxes.  I am a republican by the way, but we will get to that a lot later. I’ll cut to the chase. This is getting long for a first entry.  Where are we now?  My partner and I are at the point where we are deciding whether to tell our friends or not.  These are people that we go to church with.  Although, some of them do know or at least suspect, we still act like we are just friends in front of them to keep up the charade. I live in Oregon with my partner and one other roommate called Betty.  Betty is a co-worker of my partner and has no idea we have a romantic relationship.  She thinks we are just best friends that met in college.  You guessed it.  I can’t even be myself in my own home.  It’s the ultimate monkey-wrench.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the thought hadn’t crossed her mind once or twice.  I mean, how can it not?  The way I look at Rae (my partner) is the way you look at your first Trans Am. It’s a big deal. Tonight around this time is usually when I attend small group.  For those who aren’t familiar, that is a fancy way of saying Bible study.  We sit and eat, read the bible, discuss, share struggles, ask for prayer, and pray out loud in a circle.  Sometimes we even hold hands.  It would be one of the highlights of my week, but I absolutely dread going.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the people and have nothing but good things to say about them.  It’s just the whole gay thing has come up once or twice before and it hasn’t really gone well.  I can’t imagine opening up to them and still having them love me unconditionally.  Just for the record, I could be totally wrong.  For all I know they could listen, cry with me, and accept me with open arms.  I just find that to be highly unlikely for some reason.  It could be because they are all a lot older than me.  They are all in their 50’s and 60’s.  I am barely 27.  It’s a different generation, you know?  Or maybe I am just making excuses.  Roger, the small group leader one time said (on the topic of gays) “shoot, you can be sexually satisfied with anything.” One of my pet peeves is when christians who have never dealt with homosexuality jump straight to the sex part.  There is a lot more to it than that, but we will also get to that later.  Anyways, I am skipping small group tonight because I need a break of one more night where I make up fake prayer requests so I don’t have to talk about what I am really feeling.  I need a break from hearing one more prayer for me to find a husband soon.  I appreciate those prayers and I think that they have value, but I just need a break.  The whole point of this story is to state that I could have had a warm tongue down my throat on New Year’s but instead I had a sharp piece of paper.  Am I all that crazy for wanting the first option?  Thanks for listening.

-Kathleen Coco