If I were to be completely honest, I guess it wouldn’t be all that surprising to say that I sometimes feel uncomfortable around my family and their friends when they make comments concerning things like sexual orientation or gender identity etc. 

Some of the things they say can be pretty ignorant, and though it doesn’t make me angry, because I understand they don’t mean to be hurtful when they say the things they do, it does irk me a little to see how closed off they make themselves in their view of things.

They’re so comfortable with their own point of views and their lives, so trying to expand their thinking to actually talk to people who identify differently is considered discomforting and too much effort on their part. I get it, because if they’ve never really talked to a trans person, or a lesbian, or even just a boy who likes to wear dresses, they’re just going to assume it’s weird or wrong based on what they do know and the people they have talked to.

I just hate that I consequently feel like I have to close myself off because of what they think. I can’t be fully myself, which proves all of those stupid kid life lesson shows really are bullshit when it comes to heteronormal values. I also hate the fact that it demonizes the people I do know who live lives that do not prescribe to cis heteronormative values. They are lovely people, and just because they don’t follow the norm doesn’t mean you have to talk shit about them as if they’re trash.

But alas, I guess everyone gets to be second class citizens in some regards. I just wish I wasn’t reminded of it in my own home.

Yes, I am a serial stress baker.

Yes, there is now a Rainier cherry pie in my house as of 3:30 this morning.

I also made a white chocolate custard pie, which I have affectionately named General Custard’s White Supremacist pie.

My dream of becoming a pie maker who can wake the dead is now almost fully true.

How exciting.

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Franz Kafka, the story goes, encountered a little girl in the park where he went walking daily. She was crying. She had lost her doll and was desolate.

Kafka offered to help her look for the doll and arranged to meet her the next day at the same spot. Unable to find the doll he composed a letter from the doll and read it to her when they met.

"Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures." This was the beginning of many letters. When he and the little girl met he read her from these carefully composed letters the imagined adventures of the beloved doll. The little girl was comforted.

When the meetings came to an end Kafka presented her with a doll. She obviously looked different from the original doll. An attached letter explained: “my travels have changed me… “

Many years later, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll. In summary it said: “every thing that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.”

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