Monday, January 29, 2007

you're darn right I'm moping

I am crashing hard after all that. It doesn't help that I live with an extroverted Sagittarian male who just sucks up personal energy. Oh, and I decided to start a new job while I'm at it (I'll take this opportunity to note the irony that behind the scenes, spas are complete madhouses. Not so serene after all. Those of us studying the healing arts all seem to be a wreck in one way or another).

So I'm indulging in lots of tea and Jane Austen (see right. Also extensive rewatchings of Pride and Prejudice. Although thanks to Winter's influence, I'll probably start geeking out on Battlestar Galatica for comfort food too).

I read a joke somewhere once about a guy who wanted "If I can just get through this week..." carved on his tombstone. It's a pretty fair description of the current state of affairs.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

well maybe "snowed in" is overstating it a bit...


The weather has cleared up and now you'd never know it got below 40. But we got some awesome pictures in the meantime.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

figures

I warn her for weeks to bring sunscreen and sunglasses (pasty Brits)....and it snows. IN THE DESERT.

Ah well. We've managed to amuse ourselves anyway.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

What's the Welsh for "hobbit"?

It's a Tolkeinesque week. Last night Elrond and I were watching The Return of the King, (sniggering variously at the homoeroticism between Frodo and Sam, Viggo Mortensen's wandering accent, and Orlando Bloom's performance as Captain Obvious) and I find today that somebody in Wales has built themselves a hobbit house. For real, they live in it. And it's eco-friendly. Bilbo would be proud. I'm taking it as a sign of the Non-Apocalypse.

Monday, January 08, 2007

head, spinning

So yesterday a classmate waltzed into the room, brandishing her great-grandmother's ring on her left hand, and the Engagement Squeal ricocheted throughout the building as everyone sighed in ecstasy. He proposed! On New Year's! During the fireworks! He got down on his knee! And when he got the ring, he asked her dad for permission to marry her!

At which point I left the room, so that when my head exploded, I wouldn't get incredulous brain matter all over the diamond and sapphires. Permission. He asked her father for permission, and people still think this is the height of romance, instead of, you know, UTTERLY REVOLTING.

And then I was sitting at the bakery this morning and Cute Barrista Girl came and talked to me during her break; she noticed the bumper sticker on my laptop ("I Break For Hot Chicks") and laughed. This girl's been confusing me of late, I've been privately referring her as The Queen of Mixed Signals, because she gives off huge dyke vibes, but she has a husband and a least two little ones. But it turns out she is bisexual, and--get this--her husband helped her come out. Which is awesome, and totally restores my faith in humanity.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

life as a Scary Dyke

Right, so, my folks are pretty cool with the whole "our daughter's a big ol' bulldagger" thing, for all they're midwestern Catholics. They've handled the fact that I have a Friend impressively--even offering to help out financially with visits. Mom is oddly enthusiastic at the speculation of me running off to Canada ("Ooh! You should go to Vancouver! I love Vancouver! And you can see Niagra Falls!") Things are better than ever. It's all good, I feel very comfortable being out around them.

Except when we watch TV.

I was sitting with them tonight, a little last-minute family bonding before I head back to school tomorrow morning, and with parental sentimentality it was declared that I had control of the remote and could watch whatever I wanted. This is an awesome power to have, since there's only one TV in the house and there was a football game on tonight. Unfortunately having 900 channels doesn't change the fact that it's still a Tuesday night and there's nothing to watch, so we settled on MASH reruns.

Now I don't even like MASH the show--I prefer the Altman movie, the series was way too preachy and Alan Altman's acting makes Kenneth Branagh's trademark scenery-chewing look positively subtle--but whatever, my folks like it, and it'll pass the time till something better comes on. Tonight's episode dealt with Klinger's cross-dressing antics to get a discharge for mental illness. So of course I sat there squirming while the canned studio audience laughed at the spectacle of a man! in a dress! Whatta FREAK! He must be insane! At the same time I realized that the gay news program was playing on the public access channel. Shit. Whatever. Fine, I'll just switch it to PBS. Ooh, dolphins. Whew. Nice and safe.

Now we're watching the program about mummies, and I'm flipping through the program guide, and oh wow, there's a show about women who come out in middle age. "Late-in-Life Lesbians." Theoretically, I can watch whatever I want. I don't have a TV back in the Southwest, I really want to see this program while I've got the chance. Just...not with my parents around. Not with all of us sitting there and me feeling horribly self-conscious. I don't know why either. I'm comfortable talking about my girlfriend with them, but not watching television with gay content. Maybe because although I'm androgynous (to my mother's unending consternation), I'm not visibly gay around them. They've never been to Pride with me, they don't know any of my queer friends, they don't (won't) go to PFLAG, they've never met any of the women I've dated. I tend to suppress my butch side when I'm with my family. On some level I'm so relieved that they've not rejected me that I'm willing to bend over backwards to make sure they aren't uncomfortable around me. I'm not sure why I'm so paranoid, because thus far they've been very accepting and adjusted well to my coming out. But basically I sat there and anxiously waited for them to go to bed so I could catch the tail-end of the show...when the Marine risked losing her job and her veteran's benefits by voluntarily outing herself, standing in uniform. And I kinda wished my dad the 'Nam vet had seen that, to see his reaction, if any.

Does anybody else have this problem? Is this common among queers and their heteronormative families? Do we all make a compromise of some kind? I came home with the intention of having a sit-down with my homophobic brother as well, but that didn't happen either, for various Very Justifiable Reasons. I'm really frustrated at the moment. And I'm not all that excited about going back to yet another Red State small town. I'm really tempted to run off to San Francisco. Or a lesbian commune. I'm sick of having to snatch at whatever comes my way and always being aware, on some level, of what I'm saying and who I'm with and where I'm at and what I'm wearing and how all this is being recieved by the folks around me, here I am with my numerous liberal straight friends, feeling very dykey all of a sudden, dealing with all these Token issues, am I talking too much about gay stuff? Should I lend my perspective to this conversation or wait for them to ask for it (which they never do)? Don't want to be too gay!

You know what I need? I need a dyke bar. Not to pick up girls, not even to get drunk, just to have some place where I can go, have a quiet beer, and RELAX, and not have to think about whether I'm too invisible or too conspicuous. To just be.