I met her in the comments section of foxnews.com.
It was 2004. She was a straight married girl arguing in favor of gay marriage and I was a lonely queer girl arguing against it, because, I mean, the frills, the 50+% divorce rate, the Middle America hetero expectations? Why bother?
And I remember telling my brother – after I’d only talked to her like maybe twice and only on the phone like maybe once – that I thought she could end up being sort of a very big deal for me.
And I remember my brother – overseas somewhere, discovering Asia or something, talking on a landline in a place where cell towers still had not been invented yet – saying this: “Well, have her talk to her husband, K. You know how those straight guys get turned on by the idea of their lady doing another lady. Shit, maybe he’ll go for it. Who knows?”
And I remember thinking, talking to my brother, how it was possible to consume an awful lot of Alan Watts and psilocybin while hiking through East Asia and still not manage to crack open the skull with even a teeniest pinch of enlightenment. Whatever enlightenment was. Or is. Or will be…
Dana was an “Older Woman” to me then – a capital “O” and a capital “W” – and she believed then and she believes now that everything happens for a reason. What a curious thing to believe!
But this is not a love song, an ode, some kind of cockamamie nostalgic love poem to Dana. This is me, now, in 2011, me outside of her house – our house! Me with a fistful of wilted flowers in my hand. This is me running through the reasons in my mind why I need to ring that bell and knock the knocker and present the same wasted, scrawny, ridiculous me to her as someone she’d maybe want to live with some more.
For me the reasons are obvious and many, and it’s not just the part about how I’ve been sleeping on a cot in the back room of an underground Quik-E-Mart and sneaking the odd shower in office buildings for several weeks. That I don’t mind, really; my attitude has always been an attitude that sees it as “I’m not homeless – I’m a Land Pirate!” but this is about more than just that.
Yeah, this is me and my life being better with Dana than without Dana, and since she won’t cut all ties to time and place and join me as a wandering gypsy, I must chain myself down to the here and now knowing I’ll still come out ahead.
This is me without Dana not even managing to get my socks on the right feet.
This is me ringing the bell and knocking the knocker and shrugging and admitting I’m pretty much a dumbass who will act like a dumbass again. And again. Meet the new Katy. Same as the old Katy.
I’ll admit it: I do not know anything. I used to think I knew some things, but now I know better.