In March of 2008 we watched the Sandhill Cranes head out to breakfast at sunrise one very cold morning. They spend the nights roosting on submerged sandbars in the Platte River. Their unique voices combine into one loud, confusing, melodious banter. How fair is that? I crawled in the tent, situ.

One butch lesbian living beyond the gender binary. When gender does not compute. At the end of one of the tables, a woman with a laptop is trying to piece together the family tree. This year, W and I are legally married. This year, my name can go on the tree. W leaves me to sit with the lady with the laptop and give her my information. She is gone a long time.

Image by Ali Brohi at flickr. Which really begs the question my friend also had the hardest time discerning the answer to- why is it that around the time of the World Cup, all of these communities spring into frenzied celebrations expressive of their Cup fever? How come we get so passionate for soccer during the World Cup, but care little for it at other times during the year? In pla.