Counting My Blessings

Sometimes it is easy to forget how fortunate we are as LGBT South Africans.  We life in a country where our constitutional rights are protected, where we can legally marry who we love and where we can adopt children; we live in a country where we have all the same rights as everybody else.  And for this we should be grateful.  It is sometimes easy to forget that this is not the case for all LGBT people across the world and that in some cases just being gay can get you killed.  But I don’t want to dwell on negativity today.

Today I received some good news from my employer and this news just yet again made me grateful that I live in a country where I am no longer considered to be a second class citizen.  Today I was told that my employer will grant me full maternity/paternity leave when our precious baby is placed with us.  Being granted full paternity leave means that I will receive four months of fully paid paternity leave to make sure that our baby fully adjust and bond with us during a time that must be incredibly traumatic for any infant.  This is something not all gay adoptive parents have the privilege to get and I am fully aware how lucky I am.

For those of you who have been following our adoption journey thus far will know that adoption is not for the faint of heart.  It is an emotional roller-coaster leaving you quite winded and emotive at times.  It feels as if you are in a perpetual state of uncertainty yet you are required to be practical, optimistic and patient.  The latter is the one requirement I am struggling with the most.  Being the type of person who is proactive with most things in my life (I blame my profession for this) and somewhat of a control freak (I am working on this) the fact that I can neither control nor anticipate what is about to happen, especially when it comes to timelines, sometimes drives me nuts.

We have no control over when we will get a placement.  We have no control over which mother, if any, will pick us to raise her child.  We have no control over other people’s conservative life views and we have no control over or opportunity to help any prospective mother look past her own biases, which maybe homophobic by nature, and accept that a gay couple can raise her child with as much love and opportunities as any other straight couple out there.  In fact, we have no control over anything in the adoption process other than the few things we can control in our present childless life.  We have to place our confidence in our social worker and the adoption agency.  After all this is what they do and we have to trust in them and their judgment, competency and experience.

Next month we will be completing Phases II and III of the adoption process.  This involves psychometric tests, separate personal interviews, joint interviews, a house visit by the social worker and a panel interview.  It is quite daunting to say the least.  I mean, when I underwent my Top Secret Security clearance it was less invasive than this, but I guess when it comes to a child there is no such thing as too invasive, right?  It is a big deal and I wouldn’t expect anything less.  After we finish these two phases, by mid November, the waiting begins.  The waiting for that one phone call that will irrevocably change our lives forever.

Luckily we are already prepared (like I said, I am proactive and a control freak).  The nursery has been set up and is fully furnished.  Our house is baby proof and the pool is secure.  We have also acquired all the basic essentials that one would need.  The only things we are putting off buying are things like bottles, dummies and formula as we will only know what brands to buy about two weeks before placement.  So at the moment we are on standby for 2014.  Realistically I don’t think there is a chance in hell that anything will happen any sooner unless there is some kind of miracle.  And we all know how rare miracles are these days - especially small ones!

When I sit back and remove myself from this experience and examine it as an outsider I often wonder if my husband and I fully appreciate how lucky we truly are.  We have been together for 15 years of which we have been legally married for 7.  We have a loving and stable relationship, family who love and support us, employers who don’t discriminate against us and we are about to have a family of our own.  How many gay people can say that?  And better yet, how many gay people yearn for this.  Sometimes we forget how lucky we are but today I decided that I will remind myself of all my blessing and be grateful for them.

To follow our progress with regards to our adoption just click on #adoption to read all about it.

Till next time.

Putin’s Crackdown on LGBT Teens in Russia

*Disclaimer: These videos are not suitable for sensitive viewers.

Age of consent in Russia is currently 16 years old.  On this video one can see a 15 year old teen allegedly lured by an organized Neo Nazi gang of self-proclaimed "Pedophile Fighters" who posted a fake personal ad from allegedly an older man (named "Uncle Dima").

This teen was forced to give out his full name, address, school name, parent’s names and etc. They laughed about his sexual preferences, bullied him, poured urine on him and kicked at the end. We will never know what occurred after the camera went out. Naturally, all his personal details were released to the general public and viewed by millions in Russia. 

Infamous Russian ultranationalist and former skin head, Maxim Martsinkevich, known under the nickname "Cleaver" (or "Tesak" in Russian) spearheaded a country wide campaign against (primarily male) LGBT teens using a popular social network VK.com to capture, torture and ultimately out unsuspected male teen victims.

Over 500 online groups were created. As one can see, they operate under a broad day light. Bystanders either ignore or condone their actions. Police refuse to arrest them even though they are in violation of the existing criminal laws in Russia. And their excuse? They are fighting “pedophiles”.... Certainly, they are selective and lure mostly gay male teens. Being outed in a small Russian city often equal death, torture, suicide. These sick fucks then track suicides online and then brag about them. 

Something needs to be done to stop this insanity!

This video was incorrectly titled.  It should read "Homosexuals are beaten in Russian school".  It horrified me!

Homophobia: When a Pastor Hates

During November 2012 I reported Pastor Oscar Peter Bougardt to the South African Human Rights Commission (SAHRC) for hate speech (you can read the details here).  However, this was not the first time I heard of this homophobic Pastor.  The first time I read about him was in October 2011 when he publically said Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu “will burn in hell” for supporting gay rights.  He also took a jab at Oscar Pistorius, earlier this year, and stated that Pistorius was cursed for supporting gay rights following the shooting of Reva Steenkamp.

Since October 2011 I have monitored this hateful Pastor and was horrified by some of the things he wrote on his social media forums.  His Facebook and Twitter accounts were full of homophobic utterances, the majority of which I viewed as being hate speech.  It reached the point where I not only felt aggrieved, victimized and personally violated as a gay man but also feared that the consequences of his utterances and his work in his community could lead to hate crimes being committed by members of his church against LGBT people in that community.

The matter was reported to the SAHRC and consequently the Pastor will now be brought before Equality Court on charges of Hate Speech.  Seeing as this matter is currently sub judice and seeing as I will be one of the witnesses testifying against Pastor Bougardt, I am not going to comment on this matter any further until the trial is finished.  However, I have decided to let Pastor Bougardt’s words, which he published publically on his social media, speak for itself.  Here are some screenshots from his personal Facebook and Twitter accounts that he published after the SAHRC informed him of his hate speech charges.  Clearly he does not take this seriously at all.

I have asked around and he is NOT being sued by any homosexual(s) for a million Rand.  Nobody knows what he is on about.  Perhaps he is trying to raise funds for his defense in the Equality Court.

Being Face Raped by Nature

I don’t always complain.  Well, actually that it not entirely true.  I complain all the time, mostly to my cats because my husband has selective hearing when it comes to things like that.  This is also why I am not completely convinced that he will survive the Zombie Apocalypse without my help.  It is important to note that when I do complain it is not always about random or minor stuff.  The things I complain about are important.  Well, at least they are important in my mind anyway.  Seeing as spring has just arrived in the Southern Hemisphere and I always bitch about it on my blog (you know because spring almost kills me every year) I decided that this year will be different.   Why you might ask.  The answer is simple, I decided to try and ignore it.  But as luck would have it, just because I am ignoring spring doesn’t mean it will ignore me.  Denial is an ineffective son-of-a-gun that way (see how I didn’t use a curse word right here.  I am so making progress on my potty mouth).

This year I think I may have discovered the allergy medication combo that works for me.  I mean really, it only took me about eight years to get it right and I should totally be getting a prize or something for this achievement.  I am also happy to report that I have not contracted my annual pink eye at the start of spring this year and even though I do sound like I have the flu, most of the time, I am not rupturing internal organs due to hay fever induced sneezing.  However, just because my allergies have calmed down this year with the aid of charmed pharmaceuticals, air purifiers and the avoidance of all things pollen related, doesn’t mean that spring has’t tried to kill me twice this season already.  It seems that if Mother Nature can’t torment me with pollen, seeds, grass and dust she will find new innovative ways to try and get to me.  The first attempt she made was with our pool.

Seeing as we may be “with child” soon hubby and I started taking measures to ensure that our house and garden aren’t deathtraps for children.  This is not something that bothered us before but when you have, or are about to have, children you understand that maybe other people weren’t so crazy after all.  The first thing we have done is to cover our pool with a net.  There are way too many children that accidentally drown in pools and all households with small children should have their pools covered.  It took me four hours one Saturday afternoon to put that Chinese puzzle from Hell over the pool.  Four hours without the help of anybody!  I have never cursed that much in my entire life but after it was done I felt pretty butch and damn proud of myself for accomplishing what I thought was the impossible.  However the next day it felt like I was ran over by a train and then trampled by psychotic donkeys, but at least our pool was secured.

However, having a net over your pool does have some rather obvious disadvantages.  Firstly, if you are not careful you can trip and fall and almost land on a bunny (I am still not forgiven for that just so that you know) and secondly, cleaning the pool becomes a bitch to deal with.  With the start of spring one of our evergreen hedges started the shed its winter leaves and all of it ended up in the pool.  Not being able to skim them off the water, due to the net, most of them ended up in our pool gobbler and weir.  Also getting to the pool gobbler and weir was now also difficult seeing as the pool net restricted access to both.  I guess you can see where I am doing with this.

So one afternoon I get home from work and as I walk past the pool I noticed that it sounded like the swimming pool pump was struggling.  I switched it off and then checked out the pool gobbler and weir.  Both were filled to the brim with leaves and needed to be cleaned.  However getting to them and taking them out was a problem as the net was cock blocking me.  To make a long story short, I ended up “accidentally” breaking the weir cover and some pool gobbler connector thingy (I don’t know it’s called) which I replaced the next day.  But not being very mechanically orientated I could not reattach the pool gobbler correctly.  Frustrated and feeling like a monkey trying to solve a puzzle for a treat hubby eventually found me sitting next to the pool gobbler looking completely defeated and poking it with a stick.  Apparently, and I take his word for it, I forgot to attach something called a washer (which looks like a cock ring, just smaller) to the system and that’s why it didn’t work.  After pointing and laughing at me he fixed it and all was back to normal on the pool front.  But then blow number two came.

Last week was hubby’s birthday, and as is tradition, I always send him flowers to his office.  Flowers I like to call hypoallergenic flowers.  You know the kind that doesn’t try to face rape you with pollen.  Pollen is nothing other than plant sperm and I do not like being sexually violated by nature.  It just wrong people and there should be laws against it!  As fate would have it, I was not the only one who sent hubby flowers that day.  Our hairstylists also sent hubby a spring bouquet the extravagance of which outshone my flowers much like a Dita Von Teese burlesque show outshines Candy the stripper from Teasers.  Unfortunately, our hairstylist temporarily forgot that pollen equals a slow snot filled eye infected death for me.  And their bouquet screamed pollen!

At first it wasn’t a real problem but as some of the flowers started to open and ejaculate their pollen into the air I felt like I was in Syria and the victim of a chemical weapons attack disguised as spring flowers.  It became so bad that when I parked my car and started walking towards the house I would smell something that smelled like incense, wondering when the hell be burned some.  It was only yesterday that I realized I actually smelled the flowers and not incense.  So this morning, after a somewhat rough couple of days, I asked hubby to banish the pollen face raping flowers to his reception area of his studio.  I still have to walk past them every day but at least it is not ejaculating all over the house anymore.  Flowers can be such sexually inconsiderate assholes!

So even though my allergies are sort of under control this season and having survived two attempts to steal my spring joy I have managed to prevail.  I am looking forward to summer and some lazy days lounging next to the pool with cocktails.  Luckily the worst of spring in our garden is almost over and I just have to make it through three more weeks of pollen.  That being said, winter also wasn’t too kind to me this year and I managed to gain 5kg’s.  During winter I can cover up my flab but with summer board shorts only covers so much.  So perhaps instead of bitching about spring and the torturous process that is adoption, I should focus on shedding that extra winter weight.  I don’t want to look like an albino whale lying next to the pool, now do I?

Till next time.

Adoption and a Kleptomaniac Cat.

I am glad to report that I don’t think we have driven our social worker insane just yet (she might beg to differ).  Being overachievers with most aspects in our lives, in this life event we are no different.  Like I wrote before, everything has now been done and dusted for phase I of the adoption process and we are now eagerly waiting for phase II to start.  Also, not being the most patient people on this rock we call earth the waiting has been somewhat, how do I put it, torturous.  Not having gone through this particular process before I did take some time to get to know some people who have. With some of the conversation I had I have come to the conclusion that the adoption process is specifically designed to test not only your true determination to have a child but also your emotional and psychological readiness to have one.  Let me explain…

Even before we met with our adoption agency hubby and I did our research.  We wanted to make sure we choose the best possible one and that we would not be turned away because we are a homosexual couple.  Luckily, one of our friends had recently adopted through PROCARE and I could not find anything negative about them on the Internet.  So by the time we actually had our first meeting with them we knew exactly what documents we would need and we had an idea what to expect.  At our first meeting we had 90% of all the documents that were required and after that meeting we also made sure we had the necessary funds to pay for the whole process and prepare for the baby.  The adoption process is not cheap.  What we did not count on was that there would be long waiting period between phase 1 and phase II.  We thought that because we were proactive and organized that this would also expedite the red tape part that is the screening phase.  But we were wrong.

We have found that after you have finished everything that is under your control you end up waiting for the next phase to begin.  During this period you also have some time to think and reflect on what you are actually busy with and it is then when all those questions and doubts start swarming through your mind.  Questions like:  Are we really ready for this?  What if we suck at being parents?  Our lives are about to take a 180 degree turn, are we ready for all the sacrifices that we will have to make?  Can we really afford to raise a child?  What if our baby does not bond with us?  What if we finish the screening and no birthmother chooses us?  What if we encounter discrimination because not only are we gay but we also have a child from a different race?  And the “what if’s” goes on and on and on…  Both of us even ended up dreaming about it.

You can sit around and ask yourself a thousand questions, and I promise you we did.  But in the end we did realize that even though we are, at times, petrified (which we heard was totally normal) we are just as excited and determined to have a child as ever, even if our lives are under a microscope and our future family is in the hands of strangers.  It’s natural to have some self-doubt especially when you are going to be a first time parent to a baby but hey, that’s why there are Google, prenatal/postnatal classes and family.  Between these three you are bound to get some great advice.  I am looking into booking some postnatal classes for hubby and I to go to.  Both of us know how to change a nappy and the correct way to bath a baby but getting a refresher course and also some baby CPR training cannot do any harm.  Besides I think all future parents should attend these types of classes.  Also, seeing as phase II of the adoption process is out of our control we also decided to start focusing on more tangible things, like the nursery.

Some people think we are mad for having started with the nursery so soon but I think it has helped us tremendously with the psychological preparation and with the waiting.  We have done some shopping around and about two weeks ago we bought a cot, compactum, rocking chair and curtains.  All of which are being delivered this weekend except the curtains, which we have already put up.  We are slowly getting the nursery ready, with the emphasis on slowly.  Our cats have also caught wind that something is going on and that it relates to the guest bedroom which we are now converting into a nursery.  Some of them are more perturbed by this than the others and their ways of acting out I also found rather queer.

Last weekend hubby and I decided to put up the curtains in the nursery.  Naturally all our cats came to observe, mostly because I think they expected one of us to fall off a ladder and planned on having a good laugh at our expense.  Unfortunately for them that did not happen.  We spent a good half an hour making sure that the curtain railing was level.  Hubby measured.  Re-measured and finally committed to drill the necessary holes.  It resulted in some foul language and several four letter words.  You see the bricks the builders used on that wall apparently were not of the best quality and hubby had an extremely difficult time which he freely vocalized.  Eventually the railing was up but then we realized something was not quite right.  The railing did not look level.  Then we realized the wall was skew which opened up a whole OCD can of worms.

To the eye the railing was not level so we had a choice:  We can adjust the railing to “look level” and live with curtains that wasn’t OR we could leave the railing looking skew (but know that it wasn’t) and also have the curtains hanging level.  This seemed like a choice made up by the devil and where nobody wins.  Eventually we decided that we knew the railing was level and left it the way it was.  In the mean time one of our cats decided to start acting out by starting to steal things from the neighbors and leaving it on our bed.  He clearly knows something is up and feels threatened in some way, and in cat language bringing us gifts that are not dripping with blood and guts will win him favor with us.

About two weeks ago our cat started leaving innocuous items on our bed.  Mostly gardening accessories.  At first I thought nothing of it and just thought it was stuff that he picked up in our garden and was playing with.  But as the items started getting bigger and looking less familiar I realized it wasn’t any of our stuff.  Some of the latest items he stole from the neighbor(s) were a garden hose spray nozzle, small gardening fork, a bra (which clearly was not ours), socks, a glove and a Barbie doll’s arm.  The problem is that I don’t know how to give these items back to the neighbor(s) without having to explain to them how I ended up with them.  So I just threw them back into their yard hoping that if it’s not theirs that they would think their pets are kleptomaniacs and not suspect ours.  Not the best solution, I know, but I don’t know of any cat psychologists in my area or how to explain to my neighbor(s) that our cat is the neighborhood thief.  I mean we raised him to know better! Don’t judge me!

So not only are we stressing about the adoptions our animals are also sensing something big is about to happen and are misbehaving accordingly.  I am not sure exactly how long the adoption process is still going to take or how long it will be until we start with and complete phase II, but in the mean time we are preparing as best we can.  This is an exciting, frustrating, emotional and harrowing time on so many different levels, as it should be.  After all this is no small step to take or decision to make.  We are taking it each day at a time, some feel longer than others, but we know that we will get there in the end.  Also, I think our cat might end up on cat Prozac.

To follow our progress with regards to our adoption just click on #adoption to read all about it.

Till next time.

It doesn't get better!

With all those "It Gets Better" videos doing the rounds it is important that we speak out about all those forgotten victims - the Homo Haters!  This video is for you.

Vladimir Putin is so Gay!

If you don't know what is going on in Russia you must be living under a rock.  This is my fuck you to Vladimir Putin, some of the best the web has to offer.  And I must say pink is definitely his color.

I Have CDO.

You all know that I suffer from a mild case of OCD.  Well, if you didn’t you do now.  And with mild, I mean I don’t have to count shit or have little routines that make me late for work.  I am usually late for work due to my cats, because they can be assholes sometimes.  A good example of my OCD is like the other evening:  I got up at 1am to go rinse out the dirty coffee mugs in the sink.  I could hear little crusts forming on the bottom of the mugs, which drives me insane, and also I had to pee.

Now that we are busy with the adoption process certain parts of my OCD are in overdrive in ways I did not expect.  I have learned through therapy that I have some “control issues” but I like to refer to it as “being organized”.  It’s all just semantics really.  Because if you are not organized that is how wars start and how the apocalypse happens.  Having now completed Phase I of the adoption process I don’t know who is more annoyed, my husband or our social worker.  And I can’t help feeling like I may be the cause of some that.

Firstly, even though I absolutely despise red tape and bureaucracy and think it was invented by Lucifer, I am really awesome at it; partly because I am a persistent and stubborn bitch, and also because I am fluent in bureaucracy.  It’s like when you travel to a foreign country, if you don’t speak the native language you are somewhat fucked.  Well, bureaucracy is no different.  The trick is to just speak the language of governmental employees in a way they are more likely to respond to positively.  The secret is being caring and finding new innovative ways of bypassing the black hole that is the dreaded mailroom.  The mailroom is the place 90% of governmental correspondence goes to die!

Part of Phase 1 of our adoption process was to obtain Police Clearances stating that we are not axe murderers and National Child Protection Register Clearances saying we are not pedophiles or something vile like that.  With the Police Clearances it was easy as I knew some people who work there.  So I could track the process and even though we received no special favors, at least I knew exactly what was going on the whole time.  With the Child Protection Register it was a different story.  Being allergic to snail mail, because it is no longer 1964, I spent a good hour on the Internet and on the phone getting a contact number and an email address of a person who deals with these clearances.  I finally found a lady and let’s call her Beth.  Beth sounded like she was recovering from the flu and a bad case of job dissatisfaction when I spoke to her and we spoke on the phone at least once a week and corresponded via email regularly.  I managed to get our clearances in two weeks.  Which is a record; however there was one little snag.

You see, when Beth told me that our clearances were processed and finalized, she also told me there was an issue and my call was transferred to the Deputy Head of her department.  He was pissed off at me!  Apparently his department has not yet come into the 21^st Century and email submissions were “unacceptable, unorthodox and irregular”.  After asking him why he was so negative he rather rudely told me that they had made an exception for us “this one time!!!” and that in future all submissions were to be submitted to their mailroom “AND. NOT. VIA. EMAIL.”  He didn’t want to hear about how mail in their mailroom didn’t want to die and how depressed the mailroom staff must be because he transferred me back to Beth in mid sentence.  Beth, on the other hand clearly craved positive human contact and we chatted for a while before she wished me luck with our adoption.  I still worry about Beth a little and we still mail each other.

The other paperwork for Phase 1 of the adoption was a breeze but we did have some trouble with the last aspect which was our Adoption Profile Book.  When we finished it and got the printed copy back I was displeased and I think my first words after paging through it were “What the fuck?!” There were some formatting issues and page layout issues in the book that gave me hives.  I mean, the book was not perfect like it was on the computer and, like I said before, if your book sucks then you are totally screwed!  So we had a long hard and sometimes boisterous time redrafting the book.  Formatting issues were corrected, some spelling was changed and some photos removed and others added.  We reworked the book up until the point when we were literally sick of it.  I am not sure if the book is perfect now, but the last draft was printed and hubby, I and the petting zoo signed off on it.  Then hubby took it to the social worker.

Apparently we (mostly I) are overachievers and the social worker refused to take the book.  She said that the book formed part of Phase II of the adoption process and that we should hold on to it until after our panel interview.  So, we completed Phase I and didn’t even know it and now we are anxiously waiting for the start of Phase II.  I am fully expecting to be poked and prodded physically, emotionally and psychologically more than your standard Alien Abduction, but I am sure in the end it will be all worth it.  In the mean time we have cleared out the closets in what will become the nursery and started planning what we need to buy.  We have lists, because lists prevent wars and the apocalypse and I have CDO, which is the same as OCD but the letters are in order as they should be.  For this, I apologize to our Social Worker in advance.  And if you are reading this, how about speeding up Phase II already?  I do have your number you know.  Don’t worry, I am only kidding.  Or am I?

Till next time.

Wallow in Self-Pity. It’s Liberating.

I am in a mood.  Actually, I have been in a mood since Monday.  For those of you who are not sure what I mean with “in a mood”, let me explain.  Since Monday I have not been able to snap out of my normal, not so pleasant, grumpy Monday morning personality and I have been a Debby Downer ever since.  Much like Grumpy Cat, I have been somewhat on the “glass is half empty and you can go fuck yourself” side.  But don’t get me wrong.  I am not apologizing.  Everyone is allowed to have a bad day; or in my case a few of them.  I just pity the people around me who have not learned how to deal with me when I am behaving like an emotionally stunted child alternated by me breaking down into a snot filled mess.  The secret is to just ignore me or to say “you are pretty” but you have to get your timing exactly right or else things can get ugly.  After some introspection (talking to our cats because I am eccentric or normal that way) I have come to the bottom of why I am being such a bitch.  It was narrowed down to Vodka, Fat and Pollen.

Not being a big Vodka drinker, other than my love for Bloody Mary's in summer, you may ask yourself why Vodka is upsetting me.  Well the answer is simple – Russia!  You see I recently learned that a certain Vodka company is sponsoring Joburg Pride and this has caused a shit storm in the South African LGBT community.  So much so, that I publically declared that my husband and I will be boycotting Joburg Pride this year.  I mean how can we in good conscience participate in an event that is sponsored by a company from a Fag Hating country?  Attending Joburg Pride would be like saying it’s ok that Russia is treating our LGBT brothers and sisters like shit, but hey at least they have Vodka!  Right?

After posting our plan to boycott Joburg Pride on Facebook, I received some rather unpleasant Facebook messages and emails.  All of which, I suppose, were from Vodka drinking homophobe loving assholes.  Some did get my tits in a twist, but I decided to just let it go.  Frankly, I am not being paid to think for people and I am not here to force my opinions on others (no matter how right they may be).  However, all I will say about this matter is, if you are a LGBT event accepting sponsorships from homophobic companies, companies from homophobic countries or any other homophobic person and/or group it is just as good as saying you condone their attitudes toward homosexuals.  It kind of makes you an event whore and I am not into shit like that.  And because I am not into whoring out my moral values and integrity for money, we are not attending Pride.  So if you want to send me more related hate mail on this subject matter, please don’t waste your time and enjoy your homophobic laced Vodka.  Ok!

Apart from Vodka, I also was mortified to discover this weekend that I actually put on 4 kilograms.  I have never had a good relationship with our scale, I hate that bitch and I am convinced she is a compulsive liar!  I mean really?  How could I have gained 4 kilograms but not have increased my body fat percentage?  Where the fuck did the fat go, or better yet where did the weight come from?  It’s not muscle, I am sad to say.  Also, it’s not like I have been eating that badly lately.  Sure I have stuffed my pie hole with some chocolates, but they were medicinal in that they made me feel better.  After all, chocolate doesn't judge you or tell you that you gained a few.  But scales do.  They should be banned or at the very least be renamed “Deceitful Machines of Soul Crushing Misfortune!”

I am fully aware that I need to start doing something about my weight gain.  I don’t want to end up on some reality show where the person can’t get out of bed and where the show starts with the word “Morbidly”.  Luckily I am too lazy to develop an eating disorder and I am still in what is considered to be a “normal weight” range.  Unfortunately, I have no immediate intention to start with an exercise regiment because that is for people who don’t own cars and have loads of free time.  Besides, I consider herding the bunnies in the afternoons as sufficient exercise.  After all it does contain some running around and some various other unconventional exercises like reaching underneath the car, climbing over wicker furniture, jumping over lounge chairs and crawling around on the ground on all fours.  However, of late this too has seemed to become a lazy routine.  You see, the bunnies too have gained some weight.

Our bunnies have a sweet tooth and, like children, they give preference to the foods they like.  Foods like grapes, apples, pineapple and bananas.  All of which are rich in sugar and the bunnies leave foods like hay, pellets, herbs, and other vegetables for last.  Due to this they too have become somewhat chubby and lazy.  Our herding sessions in the afternoons have gone down from forty minutes to five, maybe ten minutes at best.  They also halfheartedly run, or sometimes stroll away, preferring for me to do most of the physical exertion.  To the point where I wondered last week for who’s benefit am I doing this really.  Sure, herding them is the time they should come into the house for dinner and settle in for the night, also it is supposed to be play and exercise time for them.  Yet, I am the one getting all of the exercise, and lately not even much of that was happening either.  All I really have to do is leave a trail of grapes to the front door and they will come in on their own.  And technically letting them get fat is animal abuse.  So I guess the two bunnies and I are going to have to go on a diet and I possibly may need to buy a giant hamster wheel.

Lastly, I am in a mood because of pollen and I blame global warming for this.  It is August and spring is still a month away in the Southern Hemisphere and yet my garden has decided to start spring early.  Now, most of you who read my blog know that spring is the worst time of year for my allergies.  This is the time of year when I suffer from chronic hay fever; get pink eyes and generally look and feel like shit.  Why nature decided to get a head start, a month early, on torturing my allergies I do not know.  But one thing is for sure, I hope it ends a month early as well.  If it doesn’t then Mother Nature is just being vindictive and taking out her vengeance on humankind for treating her like shit out on me!  So to conclude; No, I am not in a good mood this week.  Vodka, fat and pollen are pissing me the fuck off and I am allowing myself a “wallow in self-pity” week.  If you have never had one, try it.  It’s liberating.  And fattening.

Till next time.

Breaking, Earth Shattering, Life Changing News

Ok folks, I have some groundbreaking news to share with you.  My husband and I have been debating when the right time would be to make this news public and we decided that the time has come.  We have already shared this news with some of our close friends, family and employers and it is only fair that I now share it with you, my loyal readers (all 10 of you!).  Before you grab a paper bag to start hyperventilating, there really will be no need for that.  Except if you were already having a panic attack because you cannot handle anticipation, in which case grab the paper bag, nobody will judge you.  Also, I am not quitting my blog, getting a sex change, fleeing the country, being arrested by Zimbabwean or Russian authorities or getting a divorce.  And neither one of us is dying.  This is good news people!  We are adopting!  And no, we are not adopting an Alpaca or my much coveted Gay Donkey.  We are adopting a baby.

The adoption process was set in motion about a month ago.  After a lot of discussion and some emotional theatrics, hubby and I finally came to realize that we are in the right place in our lives and marriage to expand our family.  After all, I have been overcompensating for my need to nurture for a while now:  our elaborate menagerie is evidence of this.  I mean, how many animals can one person acquire before someone says “Adopt a child already!” And this is exactly what my mother-in-law did (coincidentally, she suffers from the same foot-in-mouth disease I suffer from).  In the end she was right, and I did come to realize that I do have a deep seated desire to be a parent, so hubby and I took the first tangible steps towards becoming parents.  We contacted PROCARE, a local private adoption agency that recently assisted friends of ours in adopting their son.

Now, anyone who has ever adopted will tell you the adoption process involves a lot of red tape.  And with red tape I mean a shit load of paper work and physical and psychological assessments falling short of submitting to DNA testing and an anal probe.  Currently, hubby and I are completing phase 1 of the 4 phase process.  We have completed all our paper work, obtained medical assessment reports, got tested for HIV (which was optional), obtained mental health reports, obtained our Police Clearances stating that we don’t have criminal records and will be getting our National Child Protection Register clearances this week which will state that we are not pedophiles or have ever been flagged as being a danger to children.  We have also successfully completed our first meeting with our Social Worker and the head of the Adoption Agency.

Our first meeting with them was rather nerve-racking.  Both hubby and I were rather tense, not knowing what to expect and being scared that we would be turned away.  There are some agencies that do not help gay couples.  Luckily for us PROCARE is not one of them.  They explained that they only take in a certain number of applications from gay couples per year and that we were the last intake for 2013.  They do this in order to provide an equal opportunity for their prospective parents to get placements.  Also, it takes a little longer for gay couples and single people to get placements due to social prejudices, which is understandable.  Our first meeting was emotional and I did get teary eyed a couple of times during that meeting as did hubby.  I didn’t feel that emotional since the time, a while ago, when I thought I was suffering from early onset male menopause.  Except this time I did not have hot flashes and I got emotional about babies and birthmothers not the lack of air-conditioning and weight gain.

During this phase we also completed our adoption profile.  For those of you who don’t know what that is, an adoption profile is a book that you put together with photos and some writing that introduces you to the prospective birthmothers and is the first impression she gets of you.  The profile is also what they use to decide who the adoptive parents of their babies will be.  So yes, you guessed it!  The profile is super important and hubby and I have been stressing that ours sucks.  I even had nightmares about it!  And if your profile sucks then you are screwed; and not in a good way - more in a “you will be childless forever” way! Needless to say we have redone our book so many times to date, trying to make it as reflective of who we are, who our family is, our home is like, what we can offer a child and why we would make good parents.  It came close to driving us totally insane until sometime last week when we had an epiphany.

During our first meeting at PROCARE we were shown a couple of examples of Profile Books and when hubby and I discussed those profiles we were underwhelmed by most of them.  Also, after doing some research on the internet we came to the conclusion - fuck it!  Our profile book should be reflective of who we are, it must be authentically us and should not be made to live up to some unrealistic expectation we created in our own minds.  The Profile must not be perfect.  The Profile must be us.  This way, the right birthmother will love our book, she would look at it and feel that we will be the best parents to entrust her child to and we will get the right baby for us.  It’s better to have a book that one birthmother will think is awesome rather than having one that ten birthmothers will think is just OK.  So last week hubby sent our book to the printers and we decided that the version that is being printed is the version we are going to stick with.  We might still end up childless, and that would really suck.  I mean how am I then going to explain my weight gain?  But I digress…

Next we are about to enter Phase 2 of the adoption process.  This phase involves more psychological assessments, more interviews, reference checks, socio- economic profiling, a house visit and a panel interview; all of which we are prepared for and looking forward to.  However, one thing I realized recently is that I have to work on my potty mouth.  Words like “fuck, shit, asshole”, and a few others, need to be replaced with words like “fudge, bollocks and butthole”.  I am not sure how this will work, but I will try my darndest to stop cursing and it is going to be hard as fudge!  Or maybe if I just say those naughty words in my head and not out loud it could also work and be less offensive and more child friendly…  I will let you know how that goes.

Phase 3 and 4 of the adoption process are the placement phase of the baby with the adoptive parents and all the legal aspects that goes along with that.  Phase 2 and 3 can happen simultaneously which makes it rather hard to plan things.  In this regard we have a lot of questions and we’ve only got answers for some of them.  For instance, when is the right time to prepare the nursery, how long will we have to make the final preparations to receive our child (2 weeks), how old will the child be when we get him/her (2 to 3 months old), and the list of questions goes on.  I will keep you updated on the progress of our adoption on my blog.  Seeing as this was just the breaking of the news to y’all some future posts will have more details.  In the mean time if you want to send us baby or nursery stuff, you are more than welcome to.  Or just send us cash.  I am sure it could be tax deductible.  Or send us some advice, it’s free and I am sure we are going to need plenty of that.  We are pregnant people, only not physically, but I have gained some baby weight.  Because I can and things like this happen during pregnancy.  Don’t judge me.

Till next time.

Sexing It Up

I have been a fan of Cazwell and his steamy and sexy homoerotic music videos for a while.  So in case you have never heard of him or seen any of his videos, here are a couple for your viewing pleasure.

Russian Propaganda: Arrest me if you want to assholes!

Seeing as I was banned from the Russian Social Media site VK.com last week and my blog is about to be completely banned from Russia, I have decided to post this blog post as a FUCK YOU to President Vladimir Putin, courtesy of the blog Russian Propaganda.

RUSSIA’S president, Vladimir V. Putin, has declared war on homosexuals. So far, the world has mostly been silent.

On July 3, Mr. Putin signed a law banning the adoption of Russian-born children not only to gay couples but also to any couple or single parent living in any country where marriage equality exists in any form.

A few days earlier, just six months before Russia hosts the 2014 Winter Games, Mr. Putin signed a law allowing police officers to arrest tourists and foreign nationals they suspect of being homosexual, lesbian or “pro-gay” and detain them for up to 14 days. Contrary to what the International Olympic Committee says, the law could mean that any Olympic athlete, trainer, reporter, family member or fan who is gay — or suspected of being gay, or just accused of being gay — can go to jail.

Earlier in June, Mr. Putin signed yet another antigay bill, classifying “homosexual propaganda” as pornography. The law is broad and vague, so that any teacher who tells students that homosexuality is not evil, any parents who tell their child that homosexuality is normal, or anyone who makes pro-gay statements deemed accessible to someone underage is now subject to arrest and fines. Even a judge, lawyer or lawmaker cannot publicly argue for tolerance without the threat of punishment.

Finally, it is rumored that Mr. Putin is about to sign an edict that would remove children from their own families if the parents are either gay or lesbian or suspected of being gay or lesbian. The police would have the authority to remove children from adoptive homes as well as from their own biological parents.

Not surprisingly, some gay and lesbian families are already beginning to plan their escapes from Russia.

Why is Mr. Putin so determined to criminalize homosexuality? He has defended his actions by saying that the Russian birthrate is diminishing and that Russian families as a whole are in danger of decline. That may be. But if that is truly his concern, he should be embracing gay and lesbian couples who, in my world, are breeding like proverbial bunnies. These days I rarely meet a gay couple who aren’t raising children.

And if Mr. Putin thinks he is protecting heterosexual marriage by denying us the same unions, he hasn’t kept up with the research. Studies from San Diego State University compared homosexual civil unions and heterosexual marriages in Vermont and found that the same-sex relationships demonstrate higher levels of satisfaction, sexual fulfillment and happiness. (Vermont legalized same-sex marriages in 2009, after the study was completed.)

Mr. Putin also says that his adoption ban was enacted to protect children from pedophiles. Once again the research does not support the homophobic rhetoric. About 90 percent of pedophiles are heterosexual men.

Mr. Putin’s true motives lie elsewhere. Historically this kind of scapegoating is used by politicians to solidify their bases and draw attention away from their failing policies, and no doubt this is what’s happening in Russia. Counting on the natural backlash against the success of marriage equality around the world and recruiting support from conservative religious organizations, Mr. Putin has sallied forth into this battle, figuring that the only opposition he will face will come from the left, his favorite boogeyman.

Mr. Putin’s campaign against lesbian, gay and bisexual people is one of distraction, a strategy of demonizing a minority for political gain taken straight from the Nazi playbook. Can we allow this war against human rights to go unanswered? Although Mr. Putin may think he can control his creation, history proves he cannot: his condemnations are permission to commit violence against gays and lesbians. In May a young gay man was murdered in the city of Volgograd. He was beaten, his body violated with beer bottles, his clothing set on fire, his head crushed with a rock. This is most likely just the beginning.

Nevertheless, the rest of the world remains almost completely ignorant of Mr. Putin’s agenda. His adoption restrictions have received some attention, but it has been largely limited to people involved in international adoptions.

This must change. With Russia about to hold the Winter Games in Sochi, the country is open to pressure. American and world leaders must speak out against Mr. Putin’s attacks and the violence they foster. The Olympic Committee must demand the retraction of these laws under threat of boycott.

In 1936 the world attended the Olympics in Germany. Few participants said a word about Hitler’s campaign against the Jews. Supporters of that decision point proudly to the triumph of Jesse Owens, while I point with dread to the Holocaust and world war. There is a price for tolerating intolerance.

Влади́мир Влади́мирович Пу́тин пошел на хуй

(Please support Russian Propaganda by visiting their website, reposting/re-blogging their posts and keep the message of the atrocities propagated against the LGBT people in Russia in everybody’s minds.)