EXCERPTS

Just a few teasers…(keep checking back, there will be more excerpts to come…)

Kelli is presenting a talk called OUCH THAT’S FUNNY:  LGBT HUMOR AND THE BEAUTY OF DISCOMFORT at UConn Storrs on October 31 as part of their Out at Lunch lecture series. You can come to the event, it’s free and open to the public, but you can also read an excerpt of FREAK OF NURTURE that is part of the lecture’s required reading. Yup you can. It’s right here.

FREAK OF NURTURE DUNHAM FOR UCONN OTL

FROM SARAH PALIN, THE CHURCH LADIES, AN ARTIFICIAL PLANT AND ME

Because I have a good number of these good Christians in my past, I accept Facebook requests from people I knew at any period in my life: friends I went on mission trips with in the 80s, fellow (now ex) nuns, Bible College classmates, the first guy I ever kissed who is now sporting a non ironic mullet. Like the Queers, The Christians often create a middle username for Facebook that advertises their beliefs. My queer friends sport names like Steve Equality Diamond or Amanda Marriageforall Smith, the Christians create monikers like Pam Jesuslovesyou Wheeling or Kate Prayerbackinschools Turner.

Having Kate Prayerbackinschools Turner and her like-minded souls as Facebook friends makes for interesting reading, since so many evangelical Christians use their status update to talk directly to God. What’s on your mind? Jesus, always. So Kate writes “Dear Lord, I thank you for my two handsome responsible sons. Please keep them safe as they travel to their soccer tournament and help them glorify You, win or lose.” Directly under this post on my news feed I see “Joe Equality Forester is attending the Deep Dick Collective.”

FROM BAD HABIT

Yup, really Kelli. Scary, right?

Yup, really Kelli. Scary, right?

[When I was nun, during Holy Week] We also spent the week cleaning our already spotless convent. As we scrubbed the underside of a sink with a toothbrush, wiped imaginary dust from the doorjambs and disinfected the ceilings, Sister Milagro would ask “When we see things are neat and orderly, what does it remind us of?”

It reminded me of obsessive-compulsive disorder but it turns out the right answer was “God.”

I was continually confused by Sister Milagro’s questioning. It felt like I was the perpetual losing contestant on the “Who Wants To Be A Living Saint” game show. In retrospect, I would have done okay if I’d learned to rotate three answers: “God,” “The Virgin Mary” and “Because I suck as a human being.”

FROM EVERYONE CRIES ON THE A TRAIN

Planning the Funeral
Heather is the kind of person who wants every detail of her funeral planned in advance. When we are finished, I am crying.
She hugs me and says “It will be no fun, when I’m done.”
And then adds “How’s that for Dr. Suess meets Elizabeth Kubler Ross?”

All These Tests
You know the dream you have, the dream where you’re panicking because you’re at school and you have a test, but you haven’t been to class all semester?
I feel like that a lot.
Like all of life is a test I didn’t study for.
Heather died at home, and once the hospice nurse declared the death, I called the funeral director to come pick her body up.
Three hours later they still hadn’t showed
I called again.
The funeral director said “Oh were you done with the body.”
I stuttered. “What. We. Um. Oh. Um.”
What were we supposed to be doing with the body?
My friend Stacy said “We kept expecting the grown ups to show up.”
Turns out we are the grown ups.

I Have the Raw Material For A Practical Joke But No Ideas For Completion
What am I supposed to do with all these Amnesty International return address labels
emblazoned
with my dead lover’s name?

Everyone Cries on the A Train

Sometimes there just isn't enough tissue in the world.

Sometimes there just isn’t enough tissue in the world.

Everyone Cries on the A Train
I cry a lot on the A train, but, I am noticing, so does everyone else.
I am an aggressive cry-er though.
If someone stares, I say “what, ya never saw a bulldyke cry in public before?”
And then add
“Well stick around, because there’s about 20 more minutes just like this.”

I Am Visiting My Grief Counselor
I am visiting my grief counselor at the Cancer Resource Center. Her services are free because Heather died of cancer.
If Heather had been hit by a bus, I guess I would be paying out of pocket.
I am sobbing. For a very long time.
My grief counselor says “it doesn’t seem like you are having any trouble accessing your emotions.”
Free or not, sometimes I want to punch my grief counselor in the head.

Keep checking back, we’ll be adding more excerpts as we get closer to the release date for Freak of Nurture

Other stories and essays include:

TABLE OF CONTENTS…

THE ADVENTURES OF THE GRANDLY AND GLORIOUSLY UNDERSUPERVISED
SISTER MERCY WRITES HER HOME LETTER
HOLY MOTHER OF PRIDE
THE ABCS OF ADVENTURES IN GENDER
YOU KNOW WHO DOES ANAL
DOES IT TAKE MORE THAN DUCT TAPE TO MAKE A DYKE?
BOI VERSUS BOY SCOUT
PUDDING DAY
BAD HABIT
PERFORMING BY THE NUMBERS
2011 A TRIAGICOMIC ODDYSEY
LULU THE CAT SAYS SCREW YOU
WIDOW CAMP
(DIS)HONORING COLUMBUS
DEAGAJE
CLIT TEASERS
EVERYONE CRIES ON THE A TRAIN
SARAH PALIN AN ARTIFICAL PLANT THE CHURCH LADIES AND ME

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