Is he writing me because I’m the only name he remembered from the one time he went to a gay bar? He describes himself as a 38-year-old gay man. With this guy, I don’t know anything about him. I would also buy them magazine subscriptions so they would keep getting something in the mail. I would send them random cards or letters to let them know I was thinking of them. I’ve had friends that spent time in jail, and they always said that getting letters was the only thing they had to look forward to. That just kinda hurt me in my chest area. He said he was sad and depressed and felt so alone. He just said he needed a friend and someone to talk to. My first thought was, “Here we go with some weirdo wanting to talk to a chick with a dick.” But that is not what this was at all. I opened this letter, and the first sentence says his name and that he is incarcerated in the Texas Prison System. Most of them are fan mail that are just nice little ego boosters. Now, I get letters every once in a while, sent to the club. Last night when I got to the dressing room, I had a letter waiting for me. This next subject is going to take this in a completely different area: This “focusing on the positive” thing might not be as funny as being a Bitter Betty, but I think it is important to list the good stuff in your life, too.Īnd your birthday is as good a time as any to do it. Our dogs are goofy, funny and spoiled as fuck.
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I have a beautiful home that is full of life and laughter. Without it, without my Hart, I’m not sure I would ever have found true happiness. I was lucky enough to find my person and experience love. Plus, I have an incredible chosen family that is always looking out for me. The circle of life is a beautiful thing.įifty years old and I have the one thing I always wanted as a young person: Happiness.
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I provide opportunities to my younger sisters and travel a path forged by some of my older sisters. I am a hardworking, bad-ass, fabulous drag queen who is proud of the longevity I have experienced. Oh my God, you guys! Sunday, I turn 50, and I couldn’t be more excited! A few weeks ago, I was complaining about how I focus too much on the negative, so let me flip the script and start over. Good Lord! I sound like such a whiny baby! Enough of that.
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Bad for ya foods are so good, and good for ya foods are so meh. It is a constant struggle to find motivation, stay motivated and make better choices. Of course, I know I should be taking better care of myself. No real reason for it other than your body reminding you it is in control of everything make one false move and it will ruin you. Or you turn your head just the slightest way, and your neck is sore for a few hours. You know those days - where you’re just walking regularly and you hurt your ankle somehow. In all seriousness, I don’t feel 50 - whatever that is supposed to feel like. It’s like the entire world is saying, “Buckle up ho. Then on Thursday I get an envelope in the mail from the AARP. It’s like my eyes said, “Happy birthday Bitch! You are gonna need to get glasses.” I’ve always had fabulous vision, then a few years ago I needed readers. I woke up last Tuesday, and my vision is worse.