Tigrette's loving that Nelly/Paul Wall song Grillz so, between that and Daddy Yankee's Gasolina, she's almost always dancing in the car or at home. I bought her some nifty shoes for valentine's day (hey, better than candy). She spent this evening running up and down the aisles of the grocery store singing Mariah Carey, Baby Bash and Nelly. Then James Brown came on the overhead radio and she sang and danced the whole song. And now everything that's shiny is "shinier than shina". Should I be worried she's actually listening to the lyrics?
She did look cute with those weird shoes. They look like the kind Olympic winner Michael Jordan wore but not gold. She's growing increasingly bold in acting, not worrying about what others are saying, etc. I held her up in the dairy aisle to pick up some soy milk from the top row and this guy who was restocking the dairy section said he could get it for me. I told him that's why I had had her - just for the high shelves. He then suggested these 25 cent cookies on sale from valentine's day and he took her to get a package of them. I think I'm feeling pretty darn good lately. All around me people are more helpful, smiling and attentive. Supportive and telling me about themselves. My friend Laura always used to say I attracted people who liked to tell me something they might not tell others. Seemed I'm back on that kind of track.
I got my number and internet connected in the apartment - which I've neglected to talk about! - but don't want to give it out even if I want my friends to call me already. Somehow the previous modem owner's name wasn't erased from the modem and so my number shows up with some strange name. I don't know if they'll give me a new number or somehow change the name. In the meantime, I'm carefully considering who I can crank call. Is it going to be you?
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
twenty-one minutes past valentine's day or Queer Love Day - everyone celebrate!
I got a potted plantita, a card that said Happy Valenines Day, a card the size of my lower torso and a small cardboard heart with cardboard candy, and a bowl of homemade desserts for Valentine's Day.
I got some great emails from friends, which is nice because it didn't even occur to me to send them a notita. I've been distancing myself from the idea of this holiday. It was never big for me and, right now, I'm so turned off to the whole relationship thing, it just didn't carry much weight with me. Add to that all the women at work talking about their straight relationships, and it just seems like just another straight holiday to me.
As such, I believe we queers should not celebrate another consumer-driven holiday meant to promote guilt/family values & ideals/long-term straight love. If anything, we should make a killing on the 75% off sales tomorrow and call February 15th Queer Love Day - a day we announce that love is an infinity/365/24/7 kind of thing and, even after all the artifice is eaten or dies, we continue loving.
To hell with the expiration dates on chocolate covered cherries or whitman samplers! Burn the cardboard hearts, or put them at your bedside and let them overflow with latex products and lubes of all flavors! Cut apart shiny balloons and make a damned fine shrug for that next drag benefit!
Mama's got her shiny blue eyeshadow. Send me the invite.
I got some great emails from friends, which is nice because it didn't even occur to me to send them a notita. I've been distancing myself from the idea of this holiday. It was never big for me and, right now, I'm so turned off to the whole relationship thing, it just didn't carry much weight with me. Add to that all the women at work talking about their straight relationships, and it just seems like just another straight holiday to me.
As such, I believe we queers should not celebrate another consumer-driven holiday meant to promote guilt/family values & ideals/long-term straight love. If anything, we should make a killing on the 75% off sales tomorrow and call February 15th Queer Love Day - a day we announce that love is an infinity/365/24/7 kind of thing and, even after all the artifice is eaten or dies, we continue loving.
To hell with the expiration dates on chocolate covered cherries or whitman samplers! Burn the cardboard hearts, or put them at your bedside and let them overflow with latex products and lubes of all flavors! Cut apart shiny balloons and make a damned fine shrug for that next drag benefit!
Mama's got her shiny blue eyeshadow. Send me the invite.
Friday, February 10, 2006
"the earth is love/and we/we are all satellites"
Went to a weekly slam poetry jam at Sam's Burger Joint here in San Anto on Tuesday night. That's where I got the title to this blog entry. One of the contestants/poets ended his piece with this line.
It was strange to go someplace by myself. I'm used to playing observer with someone, drinking a little, making stories about the other people, laughing for no reason. But the dj spinning was good (better, unfortunately, than a lot of the poets) and I was moving when a song hit me and laughing when I wanted to all by myself. I felt free.
Work's getting steep - there's more and more stuff I find that may or may not be a part of my daily or weekly or monthly routine. Still, I'm enjoying working it.
I got into a horrible conversation with someone at work earlier in the week regarding what "inner city" kids implies to those we are requesting volunteer hours or donations from. I worried about the stereotypes and she said that grants utilize that language and we must respond with that same language. I think I see even grantwriting as the potential for being a political act. I cannot imagine accepting the labeling and not taking the opportunity to defy what it means to be "inner city" just as we must often defy what it means to be female, working class, artists, etc., when the connotations are viewed negatively. Hell, even when viewed positively.
I had lunch with an old friend of mine this week too. I used to do music research for him. He always impressed me with his ability to let his mind wander and come up with new ways of making money, writing books, finding out about himself. Anything. If it pops into his head he's doing it.
We joked about putting out a personal ad that would say something like:
No clingers. No wanna-bes. Don't want someone who is expecting financial support. Emotional support may or may not be available on your demand. Expect incredible independence and equality. Mothers who are distant, live far away or are dead are a plus. Cannot give you a ride in my car.I'm intelligent and attractive. I've been burned and I'm not having it anymore. Expect to give more loving than you may receive and to clean up after yourself.
But I told him the only people who would respond would be those asking if anyone actually responded.
I have also s l o w l y moved some stuff into the house. My mother is probably more excited about the place than I am. She called me at work yesterday and told me she washed the walls. Who thinks to wash the walls? I would have just asked the management for a paint job. To be honest, I am a little excited about nailing those sandpapery strips on the stairs so they aren't so slippery. I already have my hammer and upholstery nails ready.
I woke up this morning with such a tremendous headache tho. I have started grinding my teeth and that with the double espresso con pannas I'm getting, the sudafed and allergies, and the amount of work I keep digging up at my new job and I was kind of hoping to just watch Charmed in some sweat pants. Instead, estoy como loca, moving a load of boxes even this morning before work.
I joked with a friend of mine about how soft Tigrette was because of Austin and how San Anto kids are rougher - they need child size tumblers like those for gnarly rocks that come out perty after hours of rubbing. In keeping with that, Tigrette went to the rodeo mess this week as an "educational experience". She wore her boots and her khakis and her blue jean jacket with the cotton-y looking trim and, with her hair combed forward like she does, she looked like Jack Twist from Brokeback Mountain.
I have missed writing. I've been sleeping erratically and hope to get back to a regular schedule of writing once I am finally moved!
More later...
It was strange to go someplace by myself. I'm used to playing observer with someone, drinking a little, making stories about the other people, laughing for no reason. But the dj spinning was good (better, unfortunately, than a lot of the poets) and I was moving when a song hit me and laughing when I wanted to all by myself. I felt free.
Work's getting steep - there's more and more stuff I find that may or may not be a part of my daily or weekly or monthly routine. Still, I'm enjoying working it.
I got into a horrible conversation with someone at work earlier in the week regarding what "inner city" kids implies to those we are requesting volunteer hours or donations from. I worried about the stereotypes and she said that grants utilize that language and we must respond with that same language. I think I see even grantwriting as the potential for being a political act. I cannot imagine accepting the labeling and not taking the opportunity to defy what it means to be "inner city" just as we must often defy what it means to be female, working class, artists, etc., when the connotations are viewed negatively. Hell, even when viewed positively.
I had lunch with an old friend of mine this week too. I used to do music research for him. He always impressed me with his ability to let his mind wander and come up with new ways of making money, writing books, finding out about himself. Anything. If it pops into his head he's doing it.
We joked about putting out a personal ad that would say something like:
No clingers. No wanna-bes. Don't want someone who is expecting financial support. Emotional support may or may not be available on your demand. Expect incredible independence and equality. Mothers who are distant, live far away or are dead are a plus. Cannot give you a ride in my car.I'm intelligent and attractive. I've been burned and I'm not having it anymore. Expect to give more loving than you may receive and to clean up after yourself.
But I told him the only people who would respond would be those asking if anyone actually responded.
I have also s l o w l y moved some stuff into the house. My mother is probably more excited about the place than I am. She called me at work yesterday and told me she washed the walls. Who thinks to wash the walls? I would have just asked the management for a paint job. To be honest, I am a little excited about nailing those sandpapery strips on the stairs so they aren't so slippery. I already have my hammer and upholstery nails ready.
I woke up this morning with such a tremendous headache tho. I have started grinding my teeth and that with the double espresso con pannas I'm getting, the sudafed and allergies, and the amount of work I keep digging up at my new job and I was kind of hoping to just watch Charmed in some sweat pants. Instead, estoy como loca, moving a load of boxes even this morning before work.
I joked with a friend of mine about how soft Tigrette was because of Austin and how San Anto kids are rougher - they need child size tumblers like those for gnarly rocks that come out perty after hours of rubbing. In keeping with that, Tigrette went to the rodeo mess this week as an "educational experience". She wore her boots and her khakis and her blue jean jacket with the cotton-y looking trim and, with her hair combed forward like she does, she looked like Jack Twist from Brokeback Mountain.
I have missed writing. I've been sleeping erratically and hope to get back to a regular schedule of writing once I am finally moved!
More later...
latex products, sexessories
I went to an all-girl party to talk about products meant to make sex more exciting. Sounds like fun, no? Well, it was the women from work so it was great to be with other women but I have a hard time sampling product off a small plastic penis that attaches to my pen. Worse, that the products "slightly numb your mouth to reduce the gag reflex".
Well, I did get to drink some rum and coke and actually be out! I'm not knocking my time off at all. I am just realizing I need to find some queer women's community. I've been talking with some though they are not as free as I'd hoped. It was hard enough to find in Austin - San Antonio seems an impossibility.
San Francisco was great for that and even my mouth made some of the girls blush. I'm ready for liberation. Wachale.
Well, I did get to drink some rum and coke and actually be out! I'm not knocking my time off at all. I am just realizing I need to find some queer women's community. I've been talking with some though they are not as free as I'd hoped. It was hard enough to find in Austin - San Antonio seems an impossibility.
San Francisco was great for that and even my mouth made some of the girls blush. I'm ready for liberation. Wachale.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Coretta
Heard today that Coretta Scott King passed away. A beautiful woman who took her lumps by comparing gay right with the struggle for rights during the Civil Rights Movement.
"A constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages is a form of gay bashing and it would do nothing at all to protect traditional marriages."
She was good. I will miss the sound of her drum in the world's hustle.
"A constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages is a form of gay bashing and it would do nothing at all to protect traditional marriages."
She was good. I will miss the sound of her drum in the world's hustle.
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