The Cult of Melinda

Biological Determinists, Listen Up!

2009-08-26T06:45:00.000-07:00

I have a question. When you get the urge to urinate, do you just whip it out (or squat) and piss wherever you happen to be standing, regardless of whether you're in a board meeting or standing in line at the DMV? No? Didn't think so.

Do you know why you don't? Because biology produces the impulse, it does not dictate your actions. Simplistic but true. So, stop pretending that simply having certain biological impulses justifies or explains irresponsible, illegitimate, illegal, or immoral acts.

Thank you. You may now return to your regularly scheduled idiocy.

RIP: Myron Schy

2009-08-20T15:52:00.001-07:00

There are too few words and too many. I keep trying to write what I really want to say about how great he was and how he helped me hold on. I want to talk about all the little things that made Myron Myron and made him my friend. I just can't. We buried a good man today. I think it'll take a while to get over that.

Israel, Here I Come!

2009-08-17T15:05:00.000-07:00

I have no idea how I'd get there, but between Hasufim, Hasodot, Yeladot Raot and this:

I really want to go to Israel!

Squeal!

2009-08-15T17:35:00.001-07:00

Julie Goldman... THE JULIE GOLDMAN!... is going to be at the Birchmere next weekend. I'm trying to get a Jewbian group together for the show. Until then, I'm going to be playing this A LOT.

Stop Hitting On Me, Dammit!

2009-08-13T20:09:00.001-07:00

So, as mentioned earlier, I've been having the recurring problem of men hitting on me despite all the obvious lesbian signals. My co-worker thinks I should wear a sign or button or something. So, what should it say?

"Yes, I am."

"Warning: Lesbian Enclosed."

"I slept with your sister. Get it?"

"Check the shoes."

"We shop in the same section of the store. HINT!"

Help me out here!

I'm Obsessed...

2009-08-13T19:52:00.000-07:00

Lately, for no reason I can discern, I've been getting smaller. My muscles, on the other hand, are getting bigger. Much bigger. My biceps are amazing! If you've known me long, you'll know that I've always been a little obsessed with my natural musculature, which was quite nice without any extra push. But what's happening to my body is beyond the normal muscle. I love it!

Problem is I think I'm becoming obsessed with playing with them. I do not want to become the dyke who runs around flexing at every opportunity. And I definitely do not want to become some narcissistic fool who plays with her own muscles all the time. The nerd in me just won't allow it. Or will she?

I don't know. Maybe I need to find someone else to play with them for me?

Morbid but Funny

2009-08-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

I went to see a friend today. He's got cancer and the doctors have only given him a few weeks to live. I'll tell you more about him later when I can deal with that little tidbit.

Anyway, his sudden turn for the worse has made me reflect on my own life and mortality (as if the pills, the monitor, the physical restrictions and the chest pains don't do that enough). Here's the problem. When I face things like death, I make jokes. Really morbid jokes. My friends and family don't always find this amusing. Usually, the ones who crack up either have the same morbid sense of humor or aren't quite in on how bad it really is. Some people get really upset when I joke about it.

But you know what? Tough. I think it's funny. And it helps. So, here are the morbid comedic stylings of Melinda. (Probably not as funny in writing, but whatevs.)

My first major "event," I was rushed to the hospital with lights and sirens and the whole shebang. My blood pressure was bottoming out. My pulse was through the roof. I was struggling to breathe. The EMT pushed epinephrine into my IV, which hurts like fucking hell. (It's like Klingons are having sex in your chest and zombies are trying to crack open your skull for a light snack. Your hands and feet contract into these weird, paralyzed claws, which is just so fucking sexy.) Then, the EMT started screaming all this medical nonsense into the radio. The only thing I understood from watching ER were the words "We need a crash cart at the ambulance bay! Stat!" At moments like this, you're supposed to reflect on your life, think profound thoughts, curse like a sailor... I did the last one quite well, but the rest was just terror and loneliness UNTIL the EMT started rubbing my left hand to ease the muscle contraction. That's when I noticed that she was really hot and Melinda's potential last thought became: "Yeah, Baby! I got another hand you can rub right over here." I totally want that on my tombstone!

Fast forward a while past lots of ER visits, finding a cardiologist, getting diagnosed, playing reverse Russian roulette with my treatment options and finding out that I wasn't going to be chasing the ladies around with my walker in some old folks' home. I had to be realistic. Still in my late 20's, I had to make plans for my death and what I wanted as far as heroic measures to save my life and life support. Fortunately, my sister Judy's a nurse, so she's perfect to make decisions when I can't and to know when to say when. That one was easy. Explaining to my family that my Borg fetish doesn't extend to being hooked up to machines... not so easy. How do you explain to people who love you that you don't want to be kept on tap past your "sell by" date? If you're me, you crack jokes. I gave them the real deal then I started telling my sister Belinda that she was back-up. It went something like this:

Me: Hey, Belinda! You're a bitch. If Judy doesn't have the ovaries to unplug me, accidentally trip over the fucking cord. You know... ahem... accidentally. (I jump up and mime tripping over a cord accidentally on purpose, including fake nonchalant whistling.)

Belinda: No. I can't trip over the cord. That might not work. I'll just pull the plug. (She mimes pulling the plug.) Then, I'll just be like "Oops. I thought this was my cell phone charger. My bad." Hey, I'm a blonde. It'll work.

This led to Nurse Judy losing it laughing and my sister-in-law jumping in with her own ideas. While certain completely unfunny family members looked on in disapproval, we planned "how to kill Melinda if Judy wusses out," complete with uproarious laughter and special little mime skits. That's the most fun I've ever had planning my death.

Flash forward to my lasting much longer than some people with fancy shmancy medical degrees thought I would because I'm either too awesome or too bitchy to die. (Death should not fuck with the former captain of the chess team! I'll checkmate his bony ass!) I went home to visit my family and had to fill my sister Judy in on the fact that she's the beneficiary on my employer-provided life insurance policy and pension death benefits. This is when I realize that this may not be such a good idea. Remember: This is the woman who gets to say when the doctors stop trying to save my life. I tell Judy what I'm thinking: Damnit! Now, one day, I'm going to stub my toe and you're going to start screaming "Pull the plug! Pull the plug!" Judy cracked up laughing for a moment before pausing and saying, "Wait. How much money do I get?" I guess she won't need Belinda as back-up after all.

A Belated Happy Anniversary...

2009-08-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

To Kahunah and Silverfox. May you have many, many more!

I Just Don't Get It...

2009-08-11T06:45:00.000-07:00

I wear men's clothes. Why do men not understand that this is the universal symbol for "big old dyke" and stop hitting on me?

Nunchuks Tips

2009-08-10T10:02:00.001-07:00

If you've ever watched a Bruce Lee movie, you're probably obsessed with them anyway. So, let me give you some tips.

1. Check the laws in your area. Nunchuks are illegal in some states. In others, they're legal for training purposes but must be carried openly when you're transporting them from your house to your car. Carrying them in a bag constitutes carrying a concealed weapon. (I ignored my own advice once when moving from one state to another and lost my precious rosewood set to the Po-Po. Strangely, I was allowed to keep the small but very real dagger attached to my keychain, a gift from an ex that I kept because it was cute.)

2. When you're learning to use them, always buy a padded training pair. You will hit yourself many, many times. A padded pair will hurt like hell. An unpadded pair could land you in the hospital.

3. There is a difference between classic nunchuks and freestyle just as there is a difference between the real martial arts and freestyle arts. Learn the differences and decide accordingly. Please note that many traditional martial artists will not be impressed and do, in fact, feel that "freestyle" demeans the arts. (Generally, if someone tells you they obtained a black belt prior to their mid to late teens, they did not study classical martial arts.) The traditional arts aren't nearly as flashy/acrobatic as what you see in many U.S. competitions and demonstrations. They are, however, deadlier.

4. Pick your instructor carefully and make sure that person is certified to instruct in the style you want to learn. For most purposes, learning by video isn't the greatest idea. You should have someone who can be there to adjust your grip, stance, etc. You may also want someone there the first time you nearly knock yourself unconscious.

5. Many have mastered the art before you. In many cases, they are way better than you will ever be. So, don't think this makes you the ultimate badass.

6. Handle your weapon with humility or it will handle you.

Some People Need a Life

2009-08-10T09:29:00.001-07:00

Rob's pics of my nunchuks brought back a memory of something he said while he was visiting, specifically that once you reach a certain level of fighting skill, no one challenges you. Oh, but if only this were true.

Back in my younger days, I lived in a really bad neighborhood where the choice was often between defending yourself or getting beaten (to hospitalization or death in some cases). To fight or not to fight was NOT the question. I became notorious early on for being able to take on any guy who dared start sh*t with me or my runt little brother or any guy I saw beating up a woman. I never started the fight, but I always finished it.

At some point, you'd think I'd be the person no one wanted to fight. Not so. I was the person every other little moron wanted to fight because beating me would mean gaining a HUGE reputation. Of course, they weren't completely stupid. Often, they came armed with baseball bats, two-by-fours, knives, etc. (If you know me personally, you've probably heard the story of how I ended up with two guns in my face at once.) Fortunately for me, I still won. The weapons just made sure I knew to end the fight quickly instead of playing around or giving the guy a chance not to look like a complete ass.

After I left that neighborhood and became a pacifist, you'd think that would've stopped. Nope. There were still men and a few women who thought challenging me to a friendly "fake" fight would be a good idea. Knowing my skill set, they still thought they could beat me and look good in front of other people. It's always in front of other people, which means they always end up humiliated, start getting mad and try to turn a fake fight into a real one.

Or occasionally, they try picking up my nunchuks to "prove" that anyone who's ever watched a Bruce Lee movie can use them. (To be fair, some people genuinely want to try to use the nunchuks out of curiosity and admit that they won't do it very well. Fortunately, I now have a padded training pair instead of my old heavy wooden set.) You can imagine that trying to swing around a deadly weapon you've never used before probably isn't a good idea. It's not. One friend went into an Army/Navy surplus store to get something, saw the nunchuks and decided to try them. After all, I do it and it looks easy, so why not? Injury and embarassment ensued. The guys at the store had to explain that anyone who can make nunchuks look easy has been using them for YEARS!

Anyway, the point is that most people really need a life. And no, I will no longer "fake" fight with you so that you can show off to your friends, girlfriend, complete strangers, etc. And it's not because I'm scared of the three-hour self defense course you took at the Y. Oh! And keep your dang hands off my weapons unless you know how to use them or are prepared to NOT be able to use them correctly! I am not responsible for you injuring your stupid self.

You know you're from N'Awlins if...

2009-08-06T16:57:00.000-07:00

The Kahunah is detailing his summer road trip. (Please do go read, but let me point out that that's a bad picture of me. Pale people are not photogenic. Really.) Anyway, reading it has provoked some fond memories for me of growing up in New Orleans and all the funny things that happen to you when you move away or just visit the "real world."

So, you know you're from N'Awlins if...

*You're a grown adult, but you still go nuts every time you see a rock. And you nearly fall to your knees in awe at the sight of rock formations.

*You get altitude sickness on hills and can't quite figure out how to breathe that high up.

*When strange cold, white stuff starts falling from the sky, you quickly scan the horizon for a mushroom cloud. OR You think 3 inches of snow is a blizzard and start worrying about whether you have enough supplies to last a few weeks.

*You're standing in the desert in 114 degree heat and tell people around you that if they think this is hot, they have serious issues. OR You start thinking people in your new city are all a bunch of pansies because they whine about 80% humidity when every one knows it's not worth complaining about until it hits 95%.

*You go out partying and you're morally offended when you find out that you're not allowed to bring your drink with you when you leave a bar. (Public drunkenness shouldn't be a crime! It's our culture, damn it!)

*You try to buy hard liquor from random drug stores, grocery stores and gas stations and are stunned to find out that you can't.

*You're absolutely confused by the fact that your new city has no sex shops, strip clubs or bars that aren't also restaurants. You thought every place had some version of Bourbon Street, even if it was a rundown block or two in some seedy neighborhood. (A friend once asked me what the heck a person's supposed to do if they live where I do and have a "sex toy emergency." What, I may ask, is a sex toy emergency? I'm still trying to figure that out.)

*It takes you months of riding the train to get over your amazement at being able to go UNDER the ground. (Okay, I never quite got over that. It's so fricking cool!)

*You kick yourself for not putting enough spice in the food you made for your new friends and wonder why they've all got tears rolling down their faces.

*You see someone steaming crabs and you gawk at them like they just revealed that they're really from the planet Zirkon and eat human babies for breakfast. (This really happened. This woman "explained" to me that you can't boil seafood and I started checking for extra arms.)

*You have to stop yourself from going off on the wait staff because you see "Cajun" food on the menu and you know damned well that that crap is not fucking Cajun. Get it? Stop calling that flavorless red goop Cajun and no, you can't just "blacken" random shit and think you're fucking Paul Prudhomme. Assholes! And where the fuck is the hot sauce anyway? No, this bland crap is not hot sauce! It's colored water!

Okay, I think that's it for now. Anyone else got some, put it in the comments.

Milestones

2009-08-05T18:46:00.000-07:00

I have now survived 5 years with PVA. That's the long term survival milestone and a really big deal for someone with my presentation of the disease. I'm trying not to be too arrogant, but...

Hey, Death! You my bitch now!

UPDATE: Arrogance can get you kicked in the ass. I'm going into an active cycle. Major suckage. On that topic, here's one more thing not to read when your PVA is acting up and you have arrythmia problems.

So what does it feel like....

2009-08-03T15:15:00.000-07:00

Watch the video. Play along. How did you feel?

Have you done it? Good. Now read this.

By now you know that this is what it's like to be gay. But there is so much more. They never got around to coming out. I've talked about that earlier. What I didn't talk about was the long term aftermath.

I'm openly gay. I have been since I was 17. It still sucks even now. After the initial horrors I described in my earlier post, I enclosed myself in the gay community. I avoided straight people as much as possible. I went to gay bars and parties. I had all gay friends.

I could be myself without questioning anything when they were around. I could say "She's hot." without worrying about someone being uncomfortable about that. I could say "my ex-girlfriend" without wondering whether I should shorten it to my "ex" so that I wasn't "pushing my sexual orientation into someone's face." I could watch gay movies with my friends and everyone got it. No one asked me stupid questions about what it was like to be a lesbian or what we do in bed or if maybe I thought I just hadn't met the right man yet.

I also learned when not to be myself. I learned to go on a date without it looking like a date. I learned to walk down the street with my hands behind my back so I didn't reach for her hand the way I really wanted to. I learned to exit the gay bar then cross the street in such a way that I could look like I hadn't just come from the gay bar. I learned to play pronoun games with people I didn't know or just straight up lie about my "boyfriend" waiting for me back home.

Fortunately, I got to be myself a lot more often than not. I have to admit, though, that the "not" moments hurt like hell.

Then I went to college and I was alien again. I was (insert scary music here) THE TOKEN LESBIAN. Surrounded by straight people, I was paranoid and defensive. Certain people took to counting how often I said lesbian, no matter that it was completely relevant to our constant discussions about sex and relationships. (What else do you talk about at that age?) I'll admit I talked about it a lot.

How could I not?

Have you ever been the token? The only X in a room full of Y. The only black person in a room full of white people. The only Jew in a room full of Christians. The only woman in a room full of men. The constant self-awareness and the constant paranoia about Y people's capacity for hiding anti-X sentiment behind a smile is nerve-wracking. It doesn't help that Y people have a habit of introducing you as their X friend or discussing you as the X.

"Hi, John. Have you met Melinda? She's a lesbian."

"Melinda? Which one's that again?" "You know. The lesbian."

You're not the semi-tall girl with black hair and blue eyes. You're not the woman they met at Joe's party who kept cracking jokes. Or the one who kicked ass at the drunken volleyball game. Or the one in their English class who sits in the front row. Or the one they chatted with about Vulcan philosophy v. Stoicism for a half hour. You're the lesbian. That's it. That's who and what you are. The lesbian.

And they'll never get why YOU talk about it so much. Maybe they'll even do an intervention to tell you that you're being too lesbian-y for some people's taste. Then, they'll go right back to introducing you as the lesbian. And every time they see you, they'll feel like they have to mention something lesbian just because they're cool with lesbians. And screaming, "Hey, you're the cunnilingus expert! Tell me something..." in a crowded room. Or warning people ahead of time that they're going to meet a GASP! lesbian at the party, so hopefully, that's okay. They shouldn't freak out too much. You don't bite. And you're pretty cool...for a lesbian. Then, they'll time you to see how often you say the word lesbian and report to you how long it's been since you last said the word, even if you've only said it twice in the whole conversation because someone asked you about something lesbian-related.

These people will get over it eventually. But it'll start all over again with the next group of straight people. And the next. And the next. And the next.

What was that threat to deport us all to an island in the Caribbean? I'm game!

Kid Cuteness: Addendum

2009-07-30T23:11:00.000-07:00

Can you tell I can't sleep?

Anyway, I'll get to part 2 of Kid Cuteness when it's not the middle of the night, but I thought of this today and kept cracking myself up.

Kahunah, Silverfox and I brought the children to the museums in DC. We were driving back after when I decided to participate in the education of Short Stuff and starting telling him about how L'enfant designed the City. Short Stuff was not impressed with Mr. L'enfant's accomplishment and said we had too many trees around. (Strange thought coming from a kid who lives in the New Orleans area, where trees are EVERYWHERE.) Anyway, he asked why the heck we need these stinkin' trees anyway.

My answer: We need trees so the birds have a place to live. We wouldn't want a bunch of homeless birds walking around asking for change.

Life Lesson #1,263: Don't let Auntie Mel answer your kids' random questions.

The Universe Thinks It's Funny...

2009-07-24T14:54:00.000-07:00

Today, I had two major projects due by 5 pm. One is the huge personnel-related project I wrote about previously, which wouldn't have driven me as crazy if people would look up the definition of the word "deadline" in the dictionary. The other is a huge IT/Communications project to develop a customer service web application (which will work in conjunction with a desktop interface for tracking workflow), requiring "you know who" to draft a report detailing the intricacies of my department's web-based communications/customer service and provide specific data/solutions to fit the new system based solely on screen captures of what that system will be.

I had about 2 weeks to do both at the same time, while keeping up with all my day-to-day communications duties, like updating every damned phone number on our dozens of web pages and dozens of forms/applications because we just got a new phone system. I was on track to completing both on-time IF I used every minute of the day to the fullest.

That's when the universe thought, "Fuck Melinda. I can't stand that bitch."

This morning, the servers crashed, which means that we couldn't access our databases, any work saved on the server (meaning all of it), our e-mail or our web-based applications. Since we have the new-fangled phone system tied into our server, our phones also went down. FOR FOUR HOURS! Fortunately, I had enough stuff open on my desktop or printed out for editing to get some work done, but I hit the wall at about 3 hours, counting my mandatory 1 hour lunch.

The servers came back up and I started working furiously to get things done UNTIL the fire alarm went off and we had to evacuate the building. After standing outside for about a half hour, I rushed back to my desk and tried to get shit done UNTIL the fire alarm went off AGAIN!

I submitted the IT/Communications project with time to spare because I'm just freaking brilliant under pressure. Then, I got the personnel project pretty much finished, pending feedback from my immediate boss. At a quarter til 5, I ran over to my other immediate boss (also known as my other boss's boss) for a quick run-down on an upcoming major project that starts probably next week. When I got back to my office just in time to go home, I found out that the deadline for the personnel project had been extended to Wednesday.

When I left the office, I was dreaming of my couch. I just wanted to crash and burn in the comfort and privacy of my crappy little apartment. I stopped for smokes on the way and got to my building just in time for the arrival of all the fire trucks. Yet another false alarm but I had to stand outside waiting for the fire department to clear the building for entry, for about a half hour!

You know what, Universe? Fuck you too!

Kid Cuteness... Part 1

2009-07-15T15:13:00.000-07:00

Captain Kahunah and Silverfox came up last month with Short Stuff and Pint Size. I waited patiently for them to tell the cute kid stories, but they haven't yet. So, I've demanded and been given permission to tell some of them myself. We'll start with Short Stuff. Short Stuff is funny, even more so when he gets a bit confused by Auntie Mel's weird ways.

First, he kept asking when we were going back to the hotel. There aren't many high-rise apartment buildings in New Orleans. So, I don't think Short Stuff's ever really seen one. Poor Kahunah had to keep explaining to him that people (including Auntie Mel) actually lived in my building. Once he got that, he started referring to my place as home. His parents "corrected" him, but really, Short Stuff always has a second home here. So, there, 'rents!

Then, when we were at the National Museum of American History, Short Stuff decided he wanted to take photos. Silverfox wasn't about to hand over her expensive digital camera, so he turned to Auntie Mel.

SS: Can I borrow YOUR camera?
AM: My camera's at home on my desk.
SS: Cell phone camera?
AM: I don't have a cell phone.
SS: You're still a kid?!
AM: No, I'm all grown up. I promise.

My favorite moment though has to be his negotiations for a lego model of Air Force One. Kahunah and Silverfox are very education-oriented when it comes to the kids. That's great and has really paid off, what with Short Stuff being king of the honor roll and all. But education and toys are really an unfair combination. In order to get the model, Short Stuff had to say who flew in the plane. After a few "I don't knows" and a couple of sly looks around trying to find the answer, Short Stuff gave it his best shot: "The Jonas Brothers?" I know there was some serious parenting going on, but I nearly lost it right there on the spot. Fortunately, Auntie Mel had just enough tact to walk off and snicker out of earshot.

Okay, that's the end of part 1. Next time on "Kid Cuteness": Pint Size.

A Writer's Dream Come True...

2009-07-15T15:01:00.000-07:00

When you start thinking of being a professional writer, you dream of winning the big writing prizes or ending up on the best seller list for the longest time ever or getting amazing reviews in the major papers/mags. Maybe you dream of the movie adaptation and the autograph signings.

You never dream of the day when you'll be told that your bond statements are just AWESOME! I mean, that part about debt policies? So sexy. And did you read the section on accounting standards? Almost made me cry. Really. But nothing will ever top the analysis of the fiscal year 2010 approved budget. That should be quoted by angsty, young poets everywhere!

Apparently, the budget people just can't stop talking about me and my bond statements. My life is weird.

SAVE ME!!!

2009-07-15T11:43:00.001-07:00

The bad grammar and horrible spelling are torture! I need to get drunk. Too bad I'm not allowed.

Why Did This Sound Like a Good Idea?

2009-07-14T08:48:00.000-07:00

Communications expert for the finance department of a municipal government sounds like a pretty good job, right? A little technical writing. A little editing. Some webmastering. A bit of strategizing here and there. No biggie. After all, it's great professional experience while journalism is in a nosedive. It contributes to my "expertise" in political and economic matters. It might even work towards getting me another editorial position some day.

It might also drive me freaking nuts! I can't go into detail, but you have no idea how unbelievably insane this job is, especially considering the complete absence of communication skills in the general population. Ugh!

Today has been particularly rough, so a colleague decided to express her "sympathy" for my current plight as I tackle a huge personnel-related project. Just a tip: Sympathy is the last thing that comes across when you're SNICKERING!

Israeli Women Just Have That Effect

2009-07-13T09:36:00.001-07:00

So, I have this lovely Muslim friend at work. (She's even more lovely when she cooks for me. Just sayin'.) She grew up in India, but moved here in her late teens. Her English is great, but she does sometimes slip up on the way she says things.

Anyway, I was prattling on about my "imaginary wife" of the week when she asked who I was talking about. Our servers were down at the time, so I told her to drop by later and I'd show her a pic of my Israeli crush. She dropped by to get my help with something, so I took a moment to show her the "love" of my week: Tal Nerubay. She was standing over my shoulder when the pic came up and this is what I heard from behind me, actually coming from the mouth of a married, heterosexual, Muslim woman: "Damn! She IS hot!" She deserved a little healthy mocking for that, but seriously, she was right.

Ladies and gents, Tal Nerubay:

Things I have discovered...

2009-07-13T08:38:00.000-07:00

My new habit of watching TV online in six languages is completely normal, at least it's completely normal for lesbians in America who can't get good representation on our own televisions.

I sometimes understand foreign languages better than I understand English spoken with a strong British accent.

If you obsessively watch TV shows in languages you don't speak, you start to understand them after a while. It's scary.

If the actress is hot enough, even Hebrew and German can sound unbelievably sexy.

After making out with a woman on-screen, an actress you sort of liked can become one of your most favorite people in the world EVER!

Ani ohevet Yisrael! I know I was obsessed with Spain and still am. BUT! There's just something about Israeli women. Maybe it's that mandatory military service that makes them sooooo sexy. Maybe it's the fact that they're Jewish and could reliably produce my 2.5 Jewish children. Maybe it's the looks. HUMMINA! All I know is that if I ever decided to date again, I would so be on the prowl for an Israeli. (Remind me to tell you about the Israeli woman I chatted up once before being introduced to her HUSBAND!)

I AM SO FREAKING GAY!!!!!

Why the Universe Sucks

2009-07-09T13:44:00.000-07:00

I think we all have a few people we'd really rather never see again. Somehow, these people broke our hearts or screwed us over or just annoyed us so much that we'd rather pull out our own toenails than see or speak to them again. Unfortunately, the universe sucks. So, we run into these people on the street or see their picture somewhere (a friend's web site, a newspaper, etc.). Sometimes, the universe REALLY sucks and the EVIL DOER is looking great and doing well at a time when we're feeling run down, horribly unattractive or a bit failure-ish.

I had one of those "the universe REALLY sucks" moments this week. It's very depressing.

What's Hebrew for Hummina?

2009-07-07T19:56:00.001-07:00

Okay, if Spain doesn't work out, I'm moving to Israel!

Because repair shops are for amateurs...

2009-07-05T16:36:00.000-07:00

There, I fixed it.

It's Hard Out Here for a Critic

2009-07-05T14:40:00.000-07:00

I don't think it's much of a secret that I freelance as a book reviewer/film critic. What does seem to be a secret is what book reviewers/film critics do. You see, I got an "anonymous" comment to one of my reviews, a mixed one on a small independent film, that was quite obviously from someone associated with the film. Apparently, you'd think I'd want to promote independent film.

Ahem. Anonymous person? I'm not a promoter. I'm a critic.

Don't get me wrong. I love me some independent film. Most of the films I watch are indies or foreign films. I love giving rave reviews to great independent films. It pleases me immensely to introduce my readers to a movie I think they'll really enjoy. I would hate to encourage my readers to watch something that I thought was bad. Because my first duty is to the readers. Always.

The only duty I have to authors, editors, filmmakers, etc. is to not review materials I'm biased against from the start or that are so far out of my experience that I can't give them a fair shake. So, I don't review heterosexual romances or books/films about fashion, pregnancy, man-hunting, etc. I pick my subjects carefully and try to be as fair as I can. That's all I can offer.

Some of my reviews have been glowing enough to end up being used in promotional materials. That's flattering but wasn't my intent in writing the review. Some have been mixed. (I admit that telling people to watch all but the last ten minutes of a film can be interpreted as harsh, but I was being honest and as fair as I could considering how horribly done the ending was.) Occasionally, I'm down-right mean in trashing something that was done so poorly that I can't find redeeming qualities.

But, again, that's what I do! I'm a critic. So, if you want someone to only say positive, glowing things about your product regardless of its actual quality, hire a really good marketing team and don't submit your stuff for review. Otherwise, suck it up and deal with it.

Dear Friends with Children...

2009-07-02T09:21:00.000-07:00

I would like to thank you for not doing some of the things that end up on this site.

I'm a Cyborg Baby!

2009-06-30T05:54:00.000-07:00

Get Your Cyborg Name

Fun Break

2009-06-28T14:27:00.001-07:00

The awesome begins around 1:30.

The Real Coming Out Story

2009-06-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

Since I mentioned it, here it is...

I was in the drama club's production of The Little Shop of Horrors my junior year. One day during rehearsals, the guy playing the sadistic dentist decided to tell one of the guys in the chorus that I was a lesbian. So, as we ran through the choreography, we'd often end up back in the same spot, waiting for the next run. Dentist boy (who looked strangely like k.d. lang in his stage makeup) just would not let it die and chorus boy kept asking. If I said I wasn't gay, which I believed to be true at the time, he'd tell me he thought I was. If I said I was, sarcastically, because I thought I wasn't, he'd tell me he thought I was lying.

After hours of this crap, I lost my temper and screamed "I'm gay, okay?" in his face and everyone in the rehearsal hall looked. I walked out, upset. I tried to tell people that I'd said that because he wouldn't believe me when I told him the truth. (Remember: I thought I was straight.) Too late. No one believed me and the rumors spread. Dentist boy would start whispering lesbian at me in drama class and during rehearsals. People started moving away from me in the lunch line and in class and in the hallways, making a HUGE deal about how my lesbianism might be catching or I might want to sleep with them. I got things thrown at me, things written about me on the bathroom walls, and many things said to me that I won't repeat here.

For the first time, I actually thought about my sexual orientation and realized, after much soul-searching, a lot of crying and no small amount of amusement at the absurdity of it all, that I was gay. I then went around trying to figure out how to hide it. I faked a crush on dentist boy because he freaking deserved it. Dentist boy, who was bi, decided to stop being a d*ck and tried to help. It was no use. At school, I was the lesbo.

At home, I kept lying. After months of this, I decided to sneak off to gay pride. I wanted to see what other gay people were like. A part of me hoped I'd freak out and realize that I wasn't really a big ol' lesbian after all. No such luck. Instead, I felt at peace with my sexual orientation for the first time ever. Unfortunately, I was too at home to notice the TV cameras pointing at me.

When my mother came to pick me up near Jackson Square in the French Quarter, far from the scene of my gay adventures, she and my little brother said they wanted to go to this festival I'd talked about. Doh! I lied like hell and told her that I'd been shocked to find upon my arrival that the festival was for gay people. I'd just seen on TV that there was a festival in the FQ and wanted to go. I swear that I sounded like a valley girl for some reason. My voice just would not cooperate. (I've never been a good liar.)

It all would have ended there I guess, if it weren't for the TV cameras. Yep! I was on the 10 o'clock news buying a drink at Gay Pride! My family found this far too amusing. But I spun the earlier story and said that I'd bought a drink b/c it was hot then left. Saying it was hot as hell in New Orleans in June is like saying it's cold in space. So, I figured they bought it, but they weren't going to let me live it down anytime soon.

For the next week, they ribbed me mercilessly. Some of their jokes were funny. Some, like running away from me in the mall screaming "OH NO! A lesbian is following us!", were publicly humiliating. One incident was downright devastating. I'd come down from my room to check the TV Guide when my older, very big brother walked up right behind me and loomed over me. "What's worse than a dumb lesbian?" he asked. The answer? "A smart one." Then, it got worse. "What's the definition of a good lesbian?" The answer? "A dead one."

On July 3, I was driving with my sister-in-law in Biloxi, MS, where my oldest brother had brought us for vacation. (He'd often let me tag along on their family vacations.) She brought it up and asked if I could imagine the look on my mother's face if we told her it was true. (She assumed it wasn't.) I couldn't take it any more and I trusted her, so I said, "It is." She thought I was joking and started laughing so hard she almost wrecked the van. After she stopped laughing, we talked about it and she gave me her word that she'd keep my secret. (Though not before asking me if I'd actually go down on a woman. I told her that I was still a virgin but pretty sure that that was the whole point of lesbianism.)

Not long after, I decided to tell one other person I trusted, my best friend Jen. Jen turned out to be bi and had this gorgeous lesbian friend named Steph who didn't go to our school. My sisters began to suspect something was up, unfortunately, and started eavesdropping on my phone calls. This included my lengthy discussions with Jen about Steph's many attractive qualities.

They told my mom I was gay, which my mother denied. I overheard as I was coming down the stairs and decided to take a run for it. Unfortunately, the door was locked. Trapped! As I tried to get the door unlocked with trembling hands, my sister Belinda looked at me and said, "Bitch, tell mom you're gay." I said, "Mom, I'm gay." Then I ran for dear life and hid from my mother for like a week. A week later, trapped in the car with her, I told her again that I was gay and she told me she'd always known.

From being outed to coming out to the first stages of being out, I struggled through months of harassment, abuse and even violence at home, in my neighborhood and in school. I lost about 50 pounds from my previously athletic frame and developed a severe case of insomnia. I hid in my room most of the time. Sometimes, two of the friends I hadn't lost would hide me at their place for days at a time. I started drinking and smoking and developed a bit of a marijuana problem. And yes, I attempted suicide. In the end, I left home and school and moved in with friends. After 3 years of problems with depression, alcohol and pot abuse, and a bit of alcohol-fueled promiscuity and self-destruction, I began to rebuild my life. I'd like to think that I've done a pretty good job of it, but I often wonder what could have been.

*Yes, you got the dates right. This weekend marks 16 years since I went to Gay Pride and finally felt at home in my gayness. This Friday will mark the 16th anniversary of the first time I came out (knowing that I was gay). Happy Gay-niversary to me!

JUST TO BE SAFE: If any job-related people read this, I no longer drink or do drugs. I don't sleep around. I'm now perfectly normal, psychologically healthy and very boring.

Visibility and the Closet

2009-06-27T12:16:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit under the weather, so forgive me if this post wanders a bit or begins to make no sense whatsoever.

In response to my previous post, "Gay v. Black", a friend picked up on my comment that segregating LGBT people didn't happen because, in part, we are "less visible." I'd like to expound on that. (I'll briefly add that segregating gay people would be possible just not in the same way as more visible minorities. Doing so would take something along the lines of the Nazi segregation of the Jews and the requirement that gays wear some visible symbol. During the Holocaust, gay concentration camp victims wore an upside down pink triangle. Yes, that is where we got that symbol.)

First, we are less visible but not invisible.

My friend pointed out that I'm a bit masculine in some ways but visibly feminine in others. In my youth, I was even more visibly feminine. I wore more feminine clothes, had long manicured nails and wore my hair all the way down to my butt. I was even seen, on occasion, in skirts and (GASP!) makeup. My much-discussed curves were quite visible by the time I was 14. Did my overt femininity allow me the ability to hide amongst the heterosexuals? Not at all.

When I tell my "coming out" story, I usually tell people about my telling my mother and her response that she'd known since I was in elementary school. Unfortunately, the story is a bit more complicated than that. You see, I was "outed" at school before I even realized I was gay. It's a bit of a long story but that's the gist of it. I didn't know I was gay and hadn't given much thought to my sexual orientation. Someone else suspected. Soon, I was the school lesbian with all the harassment that came along with the designation. Eventually, I realized the rumors were true. I was gay! That was a huge surprise and a major trauma in the "my life as I'd known it was over" kind of way.

As time went on, I embraced my natural butchness, but have never been particularly manly. I still pass quite effectively to some extent. Men still come on to me and are often surprised to be told that I'm gay (even when I'm wearing men's clothes). Apparently, people assume I'm too "pretty" to be a dyke. (Don't get that from either end, but whatever.)

On the other hand, I've often been detected long before doing or saying anything overtly gay. When I moved into the dorm, the rumor immediately went around that a lesbian was moving in. This happened before anyone had spoken to me or my roommate, who knew the first day. I was wearing jeans and a 10,000 Maniacs t-shirt and had hair to the middle of my back. I wasn't "stereotypically" gay-looking, in other words. When I started work at a tourism company, the rumor that the new girl was a lesbian started before I'd had a chance to meet my coworkers. Keep in mind that I wore the same uniform as everyone else, although I did have shorter (but not manly) hair at that point. Again, I wasn't stereotypically gay-looking.

You see what I mean? Less visible not invisible.

Secondly, we oppose the closet, not just because we shouldn't have to hide or because some of us can't, but because it is destructive.

Hiding yourself because some aspect of your identity is deemed repugnant by the greater society can lead to devastating consequences. Hiding leads to shame, loss of self esteem and positive self-image, guilt, overwhelming loneliness, etc., especially since hiding one's sexuality in a hypersexualized society means constantly lying to everyone you know, including those who are supposed to love you unconditionally. This leads you to question whether the people in your life actually love you, whether they would hate you if they knew, and whether any of your relationships are valid or real. These concerns lead to a constant overwhelming fear of being found out and being punished for who you are. These feelings of fear, inadequacy, inferiority and isolation lead to alcohol and drug abuse, unhealthy sexual relationships, self-destructive behaviors, depression, and suicide for far too many LGBT people. (I speak, I'm sad to say, from personal experience.)

Our opposition to the closet, therefore, isn't just a political point or an ideological principle. It's a matter of defending our ability to survive and to live physically and psychologically intact.

Finally...

Every LGBT person who's ever come out chose to risk rejection, hatred, violence, discrimination and other forms of abuse rather than continue to live in the daily torment produced by the closet. Make no mistake that those risks were real and are too often realized in our daily lives. Think about that and I think you'll understand a little better how horrid the closet really is.

Strange Friends I Have

2009-06-20T11:04:00.000-07:00

My friends are a bit lost trying to find my house, so they just called asking me to look up my GPS coordinates online so they can geocache me. Seriously. I love my crazy friends.

Gay v. Black

2009-06-18T16:13:00.000-07:00

This post is not meant as a pissing contest. However, a lot of people get offended by the comparison of the Gay Rights Movement to the Civil Rights Movement because apparently LGBT people haven't suffered enough. So, I'd like to inform all of you about the suffering of LGBT people throughout American history in comparison to some of the events of African-American history.

Until 1865, African-Americans were enslaved in the U.S.

Until 1873, homosexuality was punishable by death. After 1873 and before in many states, being gay was punishable by imprisonment and the seizure of all of your property. Homosexuals continued to be arrested and imprisoned just for being gay until the latter half of the 20th century. Consenting sexual activity between two adults of the same gender was a felony in some states until 2003.

Due to pseudoscientists like Freud, homosexuality was considered a mental illness in the late nineteenth century and throughout most of the twentieth century. Untold thousands of gay people were confined to mental institutions against their will. "Treatments" included lobotomy (removal of part of the brain), electroshock, psychotropic drugs, aversion therapy, hypnosis, cocaine solutions, saline cathartics, the surgical “liberation” of adherent clitorises, injections of of strychnine, castration, sex gland implants, threats of physical violence, nausea-inducing drugs, psychotherapy, and much, much more.

African-Americans are segregated by law until the 1960's.

LGBT people could not be segregated for 2 reasons: 1.) We are less visible. 2.) It was illegal for gay people to congregate in most parts of the country.

Until well into the 1970's and 1980's, there were a variety of anti-LGBT laws on the books. In addition to the previously mentioned sodomy laws and laws against congregating, there were laws against LGBT people dancing together, wearing clothes of the opposite sex (even if you were trans), working in a variety of jobs (military, government, teaching, etc.), immigrating to the United States, and so much more.

LGBT Americans were frequently the subject of police harassment and brutality. The Stonewall Riot, which happened 40 years ago this month, was just one of many acts of resistance against this brutality across the country. The police and FBI often investigated and/or infiltrated LGBT groups and reported members to family, employers, neighbors, etc. Being outed by the police/FBI destroyed tens of thousands of lives. During the McCarthy era, the federal government conducted witch hunts to find homosexuals working in the federal government. The military also conducted such witch hunts to find gay people in the ranks and imprisoned many of those they found. Again, these actions destroyed tens of thousands of lives and careers.

African-Americans were and are frequently targeted by violent extremist groups, both as individuals and as a group. In the United States, attacks against African-Americans are called hate crimes under the law (local, state and federal). Attacks against the African-American community, such as church burnings, are considered domestic terrorism.

Attacks against individual gay people have included tens of thousands of acts of vandalism, arson, harassment, assault, rape, murder and lynching. In most states, these acts are NOT considered hate crimes. Federal law does NOT consider these acts hate crimes. Attacks against the gay community have included the assassination of gay leaders, the bombing of gay establishments, the burning of gay establishments, the firebombing of gay establishments, attacks on gay-positive churches, etc. In many cases, these acts have not been punished as acts of terrorism.

African-Americans continue to struggle with discrimination, despite the fact that it has been illegal for decades.

In 32 states and under federal law, it is still legal to discriminate in employment based on sexual orientation. DADT requires discrimination against LGBT people in the military. In 38 states and under federal law, it is still legal to discriminate in housing and public accommodation based on sexual orientation. It is illegal in most states for gay people to adopt children, even if the biological parent is their legal spouse.

Only 6 states allow gay people to marry. Due to DOMA and dozens of state laws/constitutional amendments, none of the other 44 states or the federal government acknowledge legal marriages between people of the same sex, which denies same-sex married couples access to thousands of rights and benefits including the right to make medical decisions, the right to child custody, the right to visitation in hospitals, the right not to testify against your spouse, the right to sponsor your non-citizen spouse for a green card, the right to make funeral arrangements for your deceased spouse, the right to collect your spouse's social security benefits, the right to file taxes as married, etc. This often requires same-sex couples to pay additional taxes on everything from income to health care to homeownership, to pay thousands of dollars for legal documents approximating a small handful of the purposes of marriage (like medical decision-making), and to confine their lives to those states where they have legal protection.

African-Americans fought for a long time to get their rights. The organized struggle for legal equality for African-Americans began effectively as a meeting of 32 black leaders in 1905 and ended in 1968. The part commonly referred to as the Civil Rights Movement lasted from 1955 to 1968.

The LGBT community has been fighting against anti-gay discrimination as an organized movement since 1950 and will turn 60 next year. The gay equivalent of the Civil Rights Movement (including civil disobedience, marches, legislative lobbying, legal cases, etc.) began in 1969 and continues to the present day. It's been 40 long years.

And let's be very clear. I'm bringing out the all-caps for this one. I HAVE NOW BEEN AN ACTIVE MEMBER OF THE GAY RIGHTS MOVEMENT FOR A PERIOD OF TIME LONGER THAN THE ENTIRE CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT! GET IT?

My New Favorite Slogan!

2009-06-17T13:48:00.001-07:00

The gAyTM is closed!

Gay News

2009-06-16T15:45:00.000-07:00

From AmericaBlog: The Democratic National Committee is actually throwing a "gay fundraiser" next week! But it might be an empty house as various prominent gays are pulling out in protest of the DOMA brief fiasco. It won't be empty outside, however, as a big protest is planned for that evening and gay publication Blade will be there with cameras flashing.

From Latin American Herald Tribune: There's been a bombing at a gay pride parade in Brazil. At least 21 people were injured.

From Stacey: Obama's Plan for Gay Rights

From Everywhere: Teh Gays are mad as hell and we're not going to take it anymore!

Bad Lesbian

2009-06-16T13:11:00.000-07:00

My build-a-couch has just arrived from IKEA. The delivery people were supposed to come up with the concierge to put it in my apartment, but instead they left it at the desk. A very nice gentleman took time out of his day to help me carry it up and to my apartment. I've never been more grateful for the presence of a big burly man in my life. Perhaps I will be when my lovely friend B helps me carry out the old couch tomorrow or Thursday. I know. What happened to that big strong, amazonian lesbian you once knew and loved? She got old, byatches. She got old.

Not too old to build a couch with her bare hands, though. Or at least I'm hoping not. Wish me luck.

UPDATE: I still got it!

Flashback: The Great Clam Jam of 1998

2009-06-14T17:55:00.000-07:00

To protect the innocent, I'm going to conceal the identity of the people involved in this story. They know who they are and one of them loves being written about anyway.

Picture it: The Lobby of Bienville Hall Dorm. Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve 1998 (can't remember). The group is already sitting on the couches in the lobby when Pathetic Goth Boy and I return from visiting my family for the holiday. I'd taken PGB home with me because he was on the outs with his family.

Anyway, the couches are full at first so PGB and I are standing around telling everyone of the visit to my family and a side trip to visit the very heterosexual Major Hottie. We tell them how my family had responded to our decision to share resources over the break by acting as if we were married. They kept asking if "we" needed this, that or the other and offering cooking supplies, tupperware and the like. Then, we tell everyone about Major Hottie, who'd answered her door in a long blue silk nightie covering her six feet of gorgeousness b/c she thought I was the only person at the door. I mock PGB for his breathless "Lucy Lawless" as MH ran upstairs to get dressed.

As we get to this point in the story, I notice the unrequited love of my life and most gorgeous woman on the planet aka Super Jew giving me the once over. Then she proclaims, "She's so pretty!" and buries her face in her hands. Keep in mind that I've seen SJ jump over a couch to look at a girl's ass, so the shy thing is freaking me out. I think maybe she's talking about me and am about to say thank you when Big Man says, "Who? Lucy Lawless?" SJ raises her head and a bit too gratefully says, "Yeah. Lucy Lawless." like she didn't really mean it. I kick myself for my delay and let it pass.

Later, I end up sitting next to SJ as Pathetic Goth Boy starts telling every one about his huge crush on Pathetic Goth Girl. Since there'd been the joke about our being "married" earlier, I do my best fake offended routine and scream, "You bastard! You're cheating on me?" At this point, SJ leans over and whispers in my ear, "That means you get to cheat on him too, right?" (This moment will forever be known as the moment my brain up and died.) Anyway, instead of saying what was in my head ("Only if it's you."), I proclaim "I'm just not that kind of girl!" like some Southern Belle who'd just been propositioned by a Yankee soldier during the War of Northern Aggression. Definite brain death.

Later still, PGB offers to give SJ a ride home. I offer to ride along because PGB still isn't too familiar with New Orleans. Suddenly, Big Man offers to join us, at which point I try to bow out. If Big Man is going, PGB won't need me for directions. Big Man says I should come anyway, so we all pile in to PGB's small truck with the miniature extended cab that allows two people to sit knee to knee behind the main seats. Rubbing knees with SJ is my idea of heaven! Let me tell ya. But it doesn't last nearly long enough. Before I know it, we're at SJ's place. When she gets out, she turns around and says very slowly and with a bit too much enunciation, "Melinda. You haven't seen my apartment yet. Why don't you come up?"

As I begin to crawl out of my place on the other side of the truck towards the open door, I thank every deity ever worshipped anywhere for my good fortune. Melinda is getting somewhere! With Super Jew! The most beautiful woman on the planet! My face probably would've cracked open from the stupid grin on it if it weren't for the intervention of Big Man, who proclaims, "I haven't been to your apartment yet either. I'm coming up." I should've smacked him. This leads Pathetic Goth Boy to decide that he doesn't want to sit in a strange neighborhood in the middle of the night so he should join us too. Yay! I love company. NOT!

We get to SJ's apartment, which is arranged with one room behind another in a row, and suddenly she's in a rush. "This is my living room. This is my bedroom. This is my kitchen. Gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back." I smirk to myself as we pass through the bedroom and think, "THIS is where I'll be having sex!" (No such luck, unfortunately. But I was a cocky little dyke, wasn't I?)

The three of us stand around admiring the quirkiness of SJ's apartment for about 2 minutes. When SJ emerges suddenly from the bathroom, she basically orders us out of her apartment because she's "got a lot of things to do" late at night on Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve (can't remember). So, we leave.

I wonder what would have happened that night if I'd gone up alone but maybe it's best that I don't torture myself. I've never quite gotten over SJ as it is. Anyway, that shall forever be known as The Great Clam Jam of 1998, because I'm pretty sure that Big Man unwittingly clam jammed me that night. I've discussed it with him and he thinks I may be on to something. He's apologized profusely though he had no way of knowing at the time. And I forgive him. Sometimes.

Defending Obama?

2009-06-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

A lot of faux-gressives are out in the interwebs defending the Obamessiah from the outrage of the LGBT community and once again, telling people spit on by their reigning Alpha that we should just sit down and shut up. Here's the stupidest argument:

Obama is restoring the rule of law. We don't want the president picking and choosing which laws he'll enforce. Do you want him to be like Bush and politicize the Justice Department. blah blah blah...

My response:

1.) Claiming that Obama is concerned with the rule of law is a joke considering his efforts to undermine the rule of law in regards to the MANDATORY investigation and prosecution of war crimes. (War criminals v. LGBT Americans. Which would you choose to protect?)

2.) No one is asking Obama not to enforce the law. We're asking that he not defend the law on the grounds that it is unconstitutional. Previous administrations have done so and the courts simply hired someone to defend the law.

3.) Even if they had to defend it, Obama's DOJ did not have to be so blatantly homophobic in doing so, potentially setting the cause of gay rights back decades.

4.) Even if the DOJ had to defend the law, Obama's administration could have issued a public statement or friend of the court brief disagreeing with the brief's conclusions and arguments.

5.) Even if the DOJ had to defend the law, they didn't have to use a Friday news dump in an attempt to minimize open discussion and debate on the brief. (A Friday news dump is specifically used to minimize media coverage of an action that may be viewed unfavorably.)

This brief is a virulently homophobic piece of crap that compares loving adult relationships to incest and pederasty, claims that homosexuals have no civil rights to speak of, claims that gay people can just marry people of the opposite sex if they want rights, claims that straight people shouldn't be forced to "finance" something they find abhorrent (despite the taxes paid by LGBT people for benefits they cannot claim and the many things taxpayers fund that they find abhorrent) and claims that Supreme Court precedent establishing sexual orientation as a suspect classification should be ignored. Anyone who defends this horrid abuse of our laws and our Constitution should be ashamed.

Flashback: Because I Miss Her...

2009-06-14T08:55:00.000-07:00

This tale is about the Red Queen, also known as my first college roommate. I was already a sophomore when I moved into the dorm to save cash and travel time. But one thing worried me. How would my assigned roommate handle (insert scary music) Teh Gay?

In light of the fact that some people wouldn't handle Teh Gay very well, I decided to pick up my keys and hopefully, meet the roommate before I moved in. I showed up early in the morning on move-in day and ran up to my room, thinking I would've beaten the roommate there. So, when I walked into room 428 and found a stunning blonde lying on the bed in a velvet gown reading, I got a bit gobsmacked and thought for sure I'd entered the wrong room. I started apologizing for my intrusion before walking out when I realized I'd opened the locked door with a key. Doh! This was my room and the stunning blonde was my new roommate.

I had a moment of "Oh Happy Day! Thank you, Lord! I've been such a good little lesbian!" before realizing I should probably introduce myself. Babbling all but incoherently, I informed her that I was her roommate and I was a big ol' lesbo and if she had a problem with that, I'd get reassigned. The Red Queen surveyed me in a quite amused fashion, informed me that she was straight but had no problem with Teh Gay, then told me her name. This is when I realize I hadn't quite told her my name yet. Doh! Obviously the name part should've come before the "I'm a big lesbo" right?

Despite this inauspicious beginning, the Red Queen and I became good friends though we soon discovered that a night person and a morning person (with a sleep disorder) probably shouldn't live in the same room. Before that discovery, however, we had lots of great times. My favorite memory is this:

One day the Red Queen told me about a new book on Irish mythology that she was very excited about reading and introduced me to the Sheila na Gig, an Irish fertility symbol placed above temple doors prior to the advent of Catholicism. (Obviously, I'm a bad half-Irish girl if a Polish girl had to introduce me to a famous Irish symbol.) Anyway, this is the Sheila na Gig:

I was in love. I thought it'd be great to put the Sheila na Gig over the door and told the Red Queen of my evil plan. That's when the Red Queen, ever the diplomat, offered a compromise:

RQ: "I'll let you put the Sheila na Gig over the door if I can erect a huge penis in the middle of the room."

Me: "You can erect a penis all you want. I'd just prefer not to be in the room when you do!"

This led to the both of us bursting out laughing as the Red Queen sputtered through explaining that that was so NOT what she meant to say. Ah, good times.

I miss you, RQ. Come back to DC soon.

Sex Laws in America

2009-06-13T12:38:00.000-07:00

It's not just homophobia. The ways in which various states criminalize normal, voluntary sexuality is abhorrent. AlterNet has a piece on 15 shocking cases.

Talking About DOMA

2009-06-13T08:58:00.000-07:00

There's a lot of great discussion going on about the DOMA issue over at AMERICAblog. John Aravosis' legal interpretations of the brief and the Obama administration's lies relating to it are a must read.

The "Fuck You" Heard Round the World

2009-06-13T07:44:00.000-07:00

To add insult to injury, Obama's administration timed the filing of his virulently homophobic defense of DOMA to the anniversary of the Supreme Court's decision in Loving v. Virginia, the interracial marriage case which established marriage as a fundamental civil right. On June 12, 2007, Mildred Loving issued a rare public statement in defense of same sex marriage, calling upon her own experience of being denied full marriage rights. I cannot find the words to describe how disgusting it is that a man born of interracial marriage would use this anniversary to deny marriage rights to tens of millions of American citizens and to abuse the spirit and memory of Loving v. Virginia to do so.

Not One Nickel

2009-06-13T06:44:00.000-07:00

Not One Nickel lays out the new voice of the LGBT Community in the face of constant betrayals by the Democrats, who want our money, our votes, our time, our energy and our support but force us to live as second-class citizens in our own country and refuse to support us on even those issues where we have public opinion behind us. We will not stand for these cowardly betrayals any longer. As we approach the 40th anniversary of Stonewall, a new radicalism is emerging. I, for one, think it's about damned time.

No Gay Rights, No Gay Dollars!
No Gay Rights, No Gay Votes!

If you support the LGBT cause, whatever your orientation, please return any Democratic contribution requests with the words above or some equivalent written on them. If you have a web site or blog, please post this request or some version of it. Please help us send the message that human rights should never be sacrificed for political expediency.

UPDATE: If you wish, you may also like to participate in Operation DOMA Flip Flop. It'll only take a few minutes and won't hurt at all (unless you get a paper cut, in which case, it'll hurt like a bitch).

Homophobama...

2009-06-12T18:51:00.000-07:00

In addition to flip-flopping on Don't Ask Don't Tell, under which 13,000 men and women in our armed forces have been discharged for being gay, Obama has now allowed his DOJ to defend the Defense of Marriage Act by, in part, comparing gay relationships to incest and pederasty.

Sadly, I'm not even remotely surprised. Once again, I was right all along.

UPDATE: I would just like to preemptively note that my use of the term "flip-flopping" to denote the cowardly betrayals of this administration was in no way a disparagement of the honor or integrity of the wonderful Housewife in Flip Flops.

Flashback: I'm a Tree!

2009-06-09T17:31:00.000-07:00

I haven't done one of these in who knows how long. Can't let the stories die.

Anyway, back in college, I hung with an amazing group of people who, as of this writing, have been my dearest friends for longer than anyone else I've ever known. These people taught me to stop taking myself too seriously, pull the leola root out of my ass and have a little fun. One of our many fun (but not very adult) activities was playing hide-and-go-seek on campus in the vicinity of the courtyard formed by the math, biology, liberal arts and education buildings plus our beloved computer center (click the link for a map and see the corner of Founders Road and Harwood Drive). This location offered many awesome places to hide.

One night, Ducky was it and the rest of us thought it would be really funny to hide together on the third floor of the math building's external stairwell. So, as Ducky counted (in Roman numerals), we headed en masse to our secret hiding place. From this lovely vantage point, we could chat while we watched Ducky try to find us. As the amusement of the situation began to wear off, we decided to travel en masse again to our base (the computer lab) just as Ducky went behind the building in search of his prey. Since we're all a little overdramatic, we decided to do this single file, back to the wall, SWAT style.

As we're sneaking down the stairs in this uber-military fashion, yours truly hears a noise behind her and turns around to give a sub-vocal STFU to whomever had taken up the rear. Unfortunately, our rear guard was a poor Asian guy who'd come out of the building, found a group of people carrying out some sort of covert op and decided to join them lest unspeakable danger catch him unawares.

Fortunately, he spoke SWAT hand signals and I managed to convince him that he could just go ahead and walk down the stairs like a normal person. It took all of my infamous Vulcan-like self control not to break into riotous laughter right then and there. I managed somehow and we all made it to base safe and sound. Then, I lost it. (While at base, I managed to convince some people that my super-mysterious middle name was "white cloud" in Choctaw and that it meant airhead. But that's a whole other story.)

I'm not certain if it was that night or some other night, but the next story has plagued me for years.

Same set up. Hide-and-go-seek. UNO Campus. The Big Kahunah is it. Important background information: I'm a little night blind and wasn't wearing my glasses b/c I was a vain little nerd back then. Anyway, I managed to hide undetected for some time by literally just standing around in the shadows wearing all black. At one point, I just stood up against a tree in the middle of the courtyard. Then I decided to make my way to base. I decide to use the old SWAT maneuver again. So, there I am, back to the wall, using all my fancy footwork as I slink my way towards the base, when I see a vague movement in the darkness. I freeze, back to the wall, arms spread wide. I think, for a moment, that I have gone undetected and congratulate myself for my mad camouflage skills. When suddenly, the booming voice of the Big Kahunah erupts from the darkness: "Melinda, you're standing under a bright light. Do you think that if you pretend you're a tree, I can't see you?" Doh!

So, yes, I'M A TREE!!!!!! And a natural blonde.

This Song is Very Depressing But Beautiful

2009-06-06T17:25:00.000-07:00

Why do songs like this always bring the same person to mind? You'd think that after all the womenz I've been with since then that that would change. Guess not.

And New Hampshire Makes Six...

2009-06-04T14:47:00.000-07:00

Gay marriage is now legal in New Hampshire. Big round of applause! Live free or die, indeed.

Fellow Pro-Choicers...

2009-06-02T06:42:00.000-07:00

Please stop making us look stupid.

You think it's clever to challenge pro-lifers with miscarriage and spontaneous abortion as some sort of counterpoint to their opposition to induced abortion. Often, you'll snicker and pat yourself on the back after making this argument because you're sure that the stunned look on their faces is proof of your ideological and rhetorical victory. You're wrong. It's not clever. You deserve neither to snicker nor to pat yourself on the back. That stunned look is not proof of victory but a response to the complete stupidity that is your argument. Look at any intelligent pro-choicer's face after you've made that argument and you'll probably see the same stunned look.

You see, whether you like it or not, there is a difference between miscarriage/spontaneous abortion and induced abortion just as there is a difference between dying of natural causes and dying due to some action on the part of another human being, be it manslaughter or murder or self-defense. There is a HUGE difference. To say that pro-lifers have to be opposed to G-d or nature's creation of miscarriage in order to be ideologically consistent is just ridiculous. That's the equivalent of saying that a person can't be ideologically opposed to murder or manslaughter if they're not also ideologically opposed to dying of old age.

So, please stop making that argument. You've embarassed the movement enough.

Gay Marriage Fun...

2009-05-30T10:41:00.000-07:00

Since I'm not legally allowed to walk around bitch-slapping homophobes, I'm enjoying a little gay marriage humor today.

The History Channel Can Bite Me...

2009-05-29T18:31:00.000-07:00

There's a show on that purports to show the Clovis culture of early human migrants to North America. It's not entirely accurate, but that's not the problem. The problem: the actors playing the ancestors of modern Native Americans are WHITE! And not white people with tans either. They're PALE white people. Ugh!

Happy Birthday, Master Drew...

2009-05-27T17:19:00.000-07:00

May you have many more, you fat, capitalist pig.

Taking "Marriage" Out of the Equation

2009-05-27T17:14:00.000-07:00

Many people, including the President, suggest that we should reserve the word "marriage" for heterosexuals in deference to "religion." To them and to you, I say this:

I'm a Reform Jew. Both the Central Conference of American Rabbis and the Union of American Hebrew Congregations resolved in the late 90's to oppose governmental restrictions on gay marriage. In 2000, the CCAR voted to allow rabbis to perform the actual Jewish marriage ritual for gay couples. (The kiddushin thing is kind of complicated.)

Anyway, if we take the word "marriage" out of the equation in deference to "religion" as many politicians, including the President, have suggested, we allow a subset of Christian denominations to become the government-approved "official" religion of this country. We would also say that my religion and so many others are invalid and unworthy of recognition in the United States.

Personally, I would not readily surrender my 1st amendment rights any more than I would readily surrender my 14th amendment rights, the basis upon which equal rights and equal protection stand.

Prop 8 Upheld

2009-05-26T10:17:00.001-07:00

Whose rights do I get to vote on now that California has voted on mine?

Happy-Go-Lucky

2009-05-25T18:38:00.001-07:00

If you haven't seen it yet, you HAVE to watch it. Sally Hawkins is fricking brilliant, which is why she won the Golden Globe. Of course, she was freaking ROBBED for the Oscars, which seems to be a rather universal opinion these days. (So, that's not just my HUGE pro-Sally Hawkins bias talking.)

Spring Cleaning

2009-05-25T13:07:00.001-07:00

I've been doing some Spring Cleaning around Casa Melinda today. However, I've encountered a problem that you might be able to help me solve.

I have visitors coming next month, so I'll be doing extra special Spring Cleaning over the next few weeks and whipping out the blow-up mattress for the miniature one to sleep one. However, I think I may have to do extra extra special Spring Cleaning, considering a certain person's mini-freak-out when he discovered some of my girlier movies and shaving cream in my shower. Apparently, evidence of my womanhood is quite disturbing.

Here's where I need your advice. I'm working on a list of the woman-type things that may have to be concealed. Here's what I have so far:

The aforementioned shaving cream
The obvious feminine hygiene products
Anything pink, including my very femme toilet brush and my lady razors
The French hand soaps
The "Lady Power Stick" deodorant
The various and sundry scented candles and girly air-freshening devices
The "girl power" type movies I watch when I'm sick
My various hair products and hair-related devices

Any other ideas? I don't need "you know who" leaving here with PTSD.

P.S. WARNING: ANYONE WHO WANTS TO PRESERVE THE MANLY IMAGE OF MELINDA SHOULD READ NO FURTHER.

I think this bizarre reaction that far too many of my guy friends have to my female-ness provides the perfect weapon. If ever they really piss me off, I can just show them my girly panties and bras. (Not on me, of course.)

Rock On!

2009-05-23T18:31:00.001-07:00

I've lost some of my favorite shows, like Terminator, but... THEY'RE BRINGING BACK "V"!!!!

My Least Favorite Christian Myths

2009-05-23T09:26:00.001-07:00

Re: my last post. If you're going to practice a religion founded by Jesus of Nazareth or simply respect him as a moral leader, you should know more about the man. So, here is a little debunking of my least favorite Christian myths.

1. Jesus was an unmarried rabbi. That's an oxymoron. Either he was a rabbi or he was unmarried. You couldn't be both in the first century. All Jewish males were expected to marry between the ages of 18 and 20, with a limited extension granted for students of the law. Failing to marry was considered a horrible sin by first century Jews, with the exception of some of the Essenes, who were waiting for the end times. Anyway, a man who was not yet married didn't have the moral or social standing to be made a rabbi according to Jewish tradition.

There were extremely rare cases of religious scholars not being married but this provoked huge controversies. If Jesus had somehow been celibate and a rabbi, one of the many texts about him would be expected to explain how Jesus could be celibate but not be committing a grievous sin. We would especially expect to see this where Jesus himself discusses various types of "eunuchs," including those limited few who chose celibacy, and asked the people to be more understanding of these types of people.

2. Jesus was an Essene. FALSE. His actions and teachings, as described in multiple texts, violated the basic principles of Essene teachings. For instance, Essenes were forbidden to worship in the temple or the synagogues, to eat meat, to carry out even the simplest act on the Sabbath, to commit any act of violence whatsoever, and to have any physical contact with women who weren't related to them. If Jesus had been an Essene, he would have been kicked out of the community, especially since he openly condemned many of the Essene principles.

3. Jesus was poor. Highly unlikely given his obvious education, his family's very expensive trip to Egypt, his connections to prominent citizens and the fact that he traveled with a treasurer. Considering his family background and what we know of his life, he was middle class at worst before beginning his ministry. However, he chose a life far less prosperous and secure than he would have had at home.

4. Jesus was illiterate. Not even remotely possible. Some people interpret the fact that he didn't write his teachings as proof of his illiteracy. No rabbi living at that time wrote his teachings down. They were always passed through oral tradition and were later written down only after the Romans exiled the Jews, making written texts a necessity for the now-scattered Jewish community.

5. Jesus execution was unique in its brutality. Not even close. The quick manner in which Jesus died was the unique part. Scourging then crucifixion was THE major form of execution in Roman-occupied territories. Usually, the Romans made every effort to extend the period of crucifixion for days if not weeks. Some scholars theorize that some injury from his fall or some other factor hastened Jesus' death on the cross so that he died within hours. Or that he was actually killed when the Roman soldier speared him to see if he was still alive.

There are so many more obvious defects in the way some people interpret certain teachings and events, but I'll stick with these top 5.

How NOT to Convert People...

2009-05-23T08:49:00.001-07:00

Anyone who knows me probably knows that I've always found the preferred forms of proselytizing irritating at best and blasphemous at worst. So, imagine my annoyance that I now can't go to the store without this woman, who is always blocking the pathway leading to the store these days, shoving religious tracts into my hand with a brief "I want to give you this." Yes, six words and the word of G-d being treated as if it's an ad for a sale on toilet paper are going to make me rethink my entire religious outlook instantaneously.

Other things that make me want to convert:

*A giant, poorly constructed wooden cross with a sound system/microphone embedded in it so a so-called minister can spout inanities into it in the middle of a Mardi Gras crowd.
*Seeing a so-called man of G-d stand in the pre-scheduled path of a Mardi Gras walking crew with said cross, then deck a member of the crew for prancing near him.
*Short, greasy pedophile-looking guys getting in my face about how Christians are the new Israel and Jews are going to hell.
*People make a big show of praying in the streets, b/c they obviously didn't read Jesus of Nazareth's opinion on praying in the streets or decided it didn't apply to them.
*People saying, "It's okay if you're Jewish. Jesus was a Jew. He was a rabbi." (A tip: You can't say Jesus was a rabbi AND that he never married. Those two things were mutually exclusive until recently.)
*People trying to preach about a religion while otherwise being completely ignorant of the religion/culture of the man who founded it.
*People saying, "Either everything Jesus said was true and he is G-d or he was the biggest liar in history. So, are you calling Jesus a liar?" This one is my biggest pet peeves, b/c I don't know many people stupid enough to change their religious outlook entirely because they're worried about calling someone who died nearly 2,000 years ago a liar. Also, b/c we don't know exactly what he said as there are no contemporaneous records and shouldn't have been. (Rabbinic teachings weren't written down until the late first century. So, Jesus wasn't "illiterate" just b/c he didn't write down his teachings.) Instead, we have multiple conflicting accounts written decades later. I respect those who follow those teachings, but I don't have to choose between accepting every word written by someone who never met the man (completely stripped from all other evidence) or calling Jesus himself a liar.

There are so many more that I really shouldn't go on, but I think you get the picture. I'm not converting, so stop bugging me already.

This Boy Rocks!

2009-05-23T05:09:00.000-07:00

Stupid Politicians!

2009-05-21T07:19:00.000-07:00

Digby and Greenwald have excellent posts on the Republic and Democratic politicians' exaggerated fear of keeping terrorists in American prisons, as well as the MSM's complicity in the lies and fearmongering. I have two questions:

Why is it that suspected terrorists get fewer legal protections and less humane treatment than the men we KNOW planned, organized and carried out the brutal occupation of most of Europe, the enslavement of millions and the carefully executed murder of 12 million people (6 million of them Jews) in the Holocaust? Are we saying that Afghan shepherds are more dangerous and less human than genocidal, warmongering maniacs like Goering?

Nerdgasm!

2009-05-20T06:15:00.000-07:00

There's now a Transformers USB stick! Go see!

Also, I WANT! Thank goodness I'm broke or I'd be spending the bank on toys all the time.

New Favorite Quote of the Week

2009-05-20T05:14:00.000-07:00

"Get a taste of religion. Lick a witch." (Seen on AfterEllen's comments.)

I've so done that!

Star Trek Rocked!

2009-05-17T14:27:00.000-07:00

Loved the new Star Trek, though certain scenes would have been much better if a certain person hadn't told me WAY too much about the plot and certain scenes. I HATE spoilers. It's hard to get excited or be surprised when you know what's coming or when you're wondering when such and such is going to happen.

Anyway, I won't ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it, but it is probably up there with some of the best Star Trek movies.

Choctaw Women Are Hot!

2009-05-16T06:39:00.001-07:00

Okay, some of these people are obviously mixed, but I think they got the hot from the Choctaw blood!

Stickball: Little Brother of War

2009-05-16T06:25:00.000-07:00

Because white people sports are for pussies!

A Different Shade of Pale

2009-05-16T04:56:00.000-07:00

Did you know that I'm a "woman of color"? I didn't until I got involved in a HUGE debate on AfterEllen's Hot 100 Women of Color List.

Now, those of you who have met me or seen a picture of me know that I am PALE, so pale that I can't actually tan. I burn. Then I go white again. That little fact has always been the bane of my existence. I wanted the tan and I never thought it was fair that my half-sister, who is way more white than I am, was born dark and that my other half-siblings (minus one) have no problem getting a tan.

It's also caused the little problem that people who don't know better get this really stupid look on their faces when I tell them I'm not white. I guess that must be a confusing statement coming from someone with pale skin, blue eyes and well, whatever color hair I have that week. (Okay, I'm a natural blonde, but my hair has darkened with age, so at least it isn't white blonde anymore, except for a few stubborn streaks that I hide or dye.) I think most people think I'm one of those white people who are so obsessed with Native Americans that they claim to have some distant Native relative, usually Cherokee. (I swear either those people are lying or the Cherokee are totally whores who'll sleep with anything!)

Anyway, I think some people think I'm making it up when I tell them my actual grandparents were Choctaw. Sometimes, I break out the picture of the former Chief of the Choctaw so they can see the facial resemblance.

That picture is no use to anyone who hasn't seen me, but the rest of you know the score. Chief Philip would fit right in at Melinda's family reunions.

People who think I'm "making it up" are, therefore, too ignorant to know what the Choctaw look like and too stupid to realize that many biracial people look like the lighter race, especially if they're mixed on both sides of their families. Take this set of twins, for example:

Anyway, back to the point. My racial background has been a big bone of contention, as you can imagine, with a lot of people feeling they had the right to "define" me and consider the facts and my opinion on the matter irrelevant. I identify as biracial or mixed blood, but I don't know that I'd ever use the term "woman of color" to describe myself. Well, there was this one time in grad school I considered attending a meeting for "people of color" because I thought it would be funny to see the looks on people's faces.

By the definitions used to compose the list, however, I'm a "woman of color." I don't know if I'll go around telling people that, but it is kind of cool.

New Favorite Gay Word:

2009-05-13T15:45:00.000-07:00

Qweerties! Definition: queer computer nerds. Look at your keyboard, you'll get why it's funny. If not, just go to the link and read the explanation in the comments.

UPDATE: And my new favorite nerd joke:

Why do computer programmers get Halloween and Christmas mixed up?

Because Oct(31)=Dec(25)

Love Ya, Mom!

2009-05-10T18:04:00.000-07:00

Since it's Mother's Day, I've been thinking about my mother. And yes, I spoke to her today. My mom is kind of a mixed bag. We won't rehash old history, but there's lots of bad in the past. I'll focus on the good, the weird and the downright TMFI today, just cuz.

The Good:

When I came out to my mother, I pretty much said "Mom, I'm gay." and ran out the door. I managed not to speak to her for a week, because I was sure she would judge me. Instead, when I asked her about what she felt about what I'd said, she told me she didn't remember. I repeated, "Mom, I'm gay." Mom said, "No! Really?" in this really exaggerated, sarcastic tone. Then, she said, "Sweetie, have you met yourself? I knew you were gay in elementary school!" Later, she started telling me about her gay friend and waking up in a dormitory for gay men after a night out on the town with him in the 70's. That was the coolest thing my mother has ever done.

My mom always wished I'd be more feminine, but she never expected me to be a traditional, submissive girl. My mother always thought it was stupid to think that you couldn't do something because you were female. (I'm sure it helped that she was a Louisiana State Trooper when there were very few women in uniform.) We were always expected to stand up for ourselves and to take no crap from anyone. In fact, she taught my sisters and me this little gem: If a man raises his hand to you, make sure it's the last time he raises his hand. My mom was definitely a royal bitch in the best way when it came to standing up to the men in her life. I'm proud of that.

When I converted to Judaism, despite being raised with the expectation that I'd become a minister, my mother was completely supportive. A bit too supportive at times. Though, to the good, at least she's stopped asking me to become a rabbi.

The Weird:

My mother calls me out of the blue to tell me weird and inappropriate jokes she hears on the radio or to ask if such and such a celebrity is a lesbian. No, I'm serious. I'll answer the phone and my mother's like, "Hey, Baby. It's Mom. I have a question for you. Is Rosie O'Donnell a lesbian?"

My mom is obsessed with Chihuahuas and always gives them Spanish names, because she apparently wants to respect their "ethnic heritage." She's learning Spanish now because she's dating a Mexican guy, so she's teaching her current Chihuahua to take commands in poorly pronounced Spanish and lets it play with a friend's dog who only speaks Spanish. So, now I get calls asking me how to say such and such a thing in Spanish and I have to figure out if it's for the boyfriend or the dog!

My mother's told me repeatedly about what my name would have been if... Like, she liked the name Kalinda, but didn't choose it because it had an a instead of an e. She wanted my sister Belinda's name and mine to be as close as possible. No, we're not twins. Kalinda, btw, means watermelon or something like that in Choctaw, which my mother knew when she considered naming me that. I'm kind of big-breasted. It would NOT have been funny. If I were a boy, my name would be Roger after my dad OR Lamont Desmond after the guy who played Lamont on Sanford and Son. My mother had a crush on Desmond Wilson, so she wanted to name her "son" after him.

The TMFI:

My mother insists on telling me whom she would date if she were a lesbian. I really don't need to hear my mother say, "I'd do k.d. lang. She's so sexy!" I also don't need to know that Rosie just really isn't her "type." Seriously, Mom. I love you, but keep it to yourself.

Anyway, Mom, if you've figured out how to Google yet without me walking you through it. I love you, but you're really freaking weird sometimes.

Mystery Smell...

2009-05-09T19:20:00.000-07:00

So, I have this weird "something died" smell in my apartment. The trash has long since been taken out, the kitchen sink cleaned, all dishes washed, etc. I've now located the smell as possibly coming from the living room and maybe the heating/AC unit. I swear if a mouse or something died in there, I'm moving out.

(We had this problem in my apartment in NYC. The exterminators put something out for mice and one died in the wall. This one part of the hall stank for months.)

Moms Are Funny

2009-05-09T17:33:00.000-07:00

I just discovered Postcards from Yo Momma, which is a collection of strange/funny messages people get from their mothers. This is my favorite so far:

Sweetie, you’re a Taurus- it’s time you finally started acting like it and the bitch I raised you to be. Call me if you need me.

That could have been written by my mother.

UPDATE: This one is freaking hilarious!

Mom: Movie time - yeah! We’re starting with “Debbie Does Dallas”. Sounds weird. Tonight is double feature; don’t know what’s next. lv u
[2 hours later]
Mom: Well, that was an eye opener if I say so myself. 2nd feature is Gidget Goes to Hawaii. lv u
Me: are u kidding or have you been replaced by pod people?
[2 hours after that]
Mom: Well, debbie and gidget live very different lives. From now on I’m leaving the movie choices to your dad.

Reminds me of the time my mother bought me what she thought was a science fiction movie. I asked a friend if he wanted to come over and watch it with me, because it looked (from the cover) like it was going to be some crappy B-movie we could laugh at. Yeah, it was porn about aliens coming to earth to "explore humanity." I'm still traumatized. My mother bought me porn.

So, What's Up With Me?

2009-05-09T13:12:00.001-07:00

I haven't said much about myself lately, so here goes.

I got my victory present from Stacey, which to be honest, was a bit disappointing. Now, don't get me wrong. A Blockbuster gift card is awesome, considering how many movies I rent. But I had forgotten all about it. So, when I opened my mail yesterday and saw an envelope from Stacey, I thought it was new Ace pictures for my cubicle as a gift for my recent birthday. I was very excited. Ace pictures would have been waaaaaaaay better than a gift card. HINT...

I haven't been back to the doctor's yet for the B12 thing. I've been so swamped at work, with no back-up if I take off, so I've been putting it off. I think it's time. The pain and exhaustion aren't going away as much as they should, so I guess I'll be doing the injections.

Work sucks, as usual. My coworkers keep asking me why I'm there considering how "brilliant" and "extremely talented" I am, their words. Yes, I know my job isn't good enough for me. My family reminds me of that often enough. But people don't realize how hard it would be to take a job in my chosen profession with this kind of disability, especially since the benefits (including health insurance) wouldn't be as good as the government provides. Of course, my pay would probably be better and I'd get more than a condescending pat on the head when I pull off a miracle of epic proportions, which I'm called upon to do regularly in my current job. I keep telling these people that not all Jews walk on water.

Anyway, I'm trying to find a way out, which isn't easy in the current job market. I'm not the only one, either. A lot of people are looking to get out as soon as possible. Morale is in the toilet as I'm sure you can imagine. It's only going to get worse. Management is studying the matter, trying to modify the personnel system to reward skill and accomplishment so that we attract more qualified people and can retain the ones we have. This "study" alone is supposed to take two years. From the scuttlebutt, they don't have two years before some of the best employees go running for the hills.

Yes, I know I shouldn't be talking about my job, but they know this stuff already. I haven't made a secret of the fact that I'm overqualified, overworked and underpaid. They haven't either. Apparently, I'm a great bargain. Yes, someone actually had the nerve to tell me that they're protecting my job because they get more/better work out of me for less money than they pay their screw-up friends. Another one had the nerve to tell me that "merit isn't the standard" around there. Yes, you really want to admit that you're not judging your employees based on their merits (as if the whole world doesn't already know that merit isn't even A standard around there).

Other than work, life is pretty boring. It's just errands and bills and household maintenance. Then, TV, movies and the internet. The Sick doesn't exactly allow me the energy to do what I want to do after I'm finished doing what I have to do. But, there are hot Spanish lesbians on TV, so I'm good.

More Reasons to Love Spain

2009-05-09T08:14:00.000-07:00

Bad way to end the date with the ex-wife you're trying to win back: having her get an allergic reaction to the honey in the chocolate massage oil. Good way to end the date: getting it on in the hospital afterwards.

I'd love to go to that hospital!

Why I Want to Move to Spain...

2009-05-08T19:08:00.000-07:00

Best Name for Swine Flu...

2009-05-08T19:01:00.001-07:00

HAMTHRAX!

Saw that on AfterEllen this morning and almost lost it.

News!

2009-05-08T18:45:00.000-07:00

Maine has become the fifth state to legalize gay marriage and the second to do so by legislative action!

The bill to legalize gay marriage has passed the New Hampshire House and Senate and it's just up to the governor now.

Gay marriage legislation has been introduced in New Jersey and will hit the floor next week in New York.

DC Mayor Adrian Fenty has signed into law the bill that would recognize gay marriages performed in other states. Because DC is under federal jurisdiction, the law must be approved by Congress.

We still await the California Supreme Court ruling on the constitutionality of Prop. 8 and whether legally married gay couples will be "divorced by popular demand" due to the vote there in November.

Hope is in the air.

Mis Novias Imaginarias

2009-05-05T15:42:00.000-07:00

I know that Cinco de Mayo is a Mexican holiday, but lately I'm in LOVE with Spain. I've become obsessed with two great Spanish programs, Los Hombres de Paco and Hospital Central, that have lesbian couples amongst their casts of characters. Fortunately, they're both in the Castillian dialect, so I understand almost everything. The technical/medical language still flies past me at times, but that happens in English too. Anyway, these three women have made me wish I could move to Spain and find myself a nice Sephardi girlfriend.

For instance, Laura Sanchez:

She plays Pepa in Los Hombres de Paco. Pepa's character is a lesbian cop in love with Silvia, the doctor of forensics assigned to the precinct.

And Silvia is played by the amazing Marian Aguilera:

On Hospital Central, we have Maca, a pediatrician played by the fantastically sexy Patricia Vico:

Aren't they gorgeous? What really chaps my hide though is that Spain can have these kinds of well-written, well-acted portrayals of lesbians on their equivalent of primetime, network television, but on American TV, lesbians are nearing extinction and those that do exist aren't exactly Emmy material (or on screen very much at all). American TV sucks ass!

The Universe Has Been Listening...

2009-05-01T15:11:00.000-07:00

To my wet dreams, apparently. Because this woman:

Whom you may remember as:

IS FREAKIN' GAY, BABY! That's right! The awesome, amazing, gorgeous Kelly McGillis has come out as a lesbian! So there, Bitches!

Better Off Ted! Brilliant!

2009-04-23T05:04:00.000-07:00

Have you been watching "Better Off Ted"? If not, watch it. NOW! The show is brilliant and has given me a new, amazingly funny phrase to steal: "full frontal nerdity." I'm so tempted to change my blog name to that.

Plus, Portia de Rossi is gorgeous and hilariously funny! She's just brilliant in this. And, if I failed to mention it, she's really freaking hot! I bow, figuratively, at Ellen's feet.

UPDATE: Dangit! Someone is already using "full frontal nerdity."

In Remembrance: Still We Have Not Forgotten

2009-04-21T15:44:00.000-07:00

Today is Yom Hashoah, the day of remembrance for those who perished in the Holocaust. The following video may be a bit too sad for some. So be forewarned.

In case you were wondering, the song is "Ani Ma'amin" or "I Believe." which was sung by Jews on their way to the gas chambers at Auschwitz. These are the words in Hebrew (transliterated) and English:

"Ani ma'amin b'emunah shleimah beviat haMashiach, v'af al pi sheyitmameiha, im kol zeh achakeh lo b'chol yom sheyavo."

"I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Messiah, and though he may tarry, nevertheless I await his coming every day."

Where's My Tax Cut?

2009-04-19T16:00:00.000-07:00

Supposedly, we should already be seeing the Obama tax cut in our paychecks. My taxes haven't changed a bit according to my last paycheck on the 10th, which covered March 23 through April 3. I'll check again this Friday, but the money I earned between April 1 through 3 should've been covered and caused at least some small increase IF I was actually part of the tax cut.

I definitely meet his supposed standards. After writing off my student loan interest payments, I got less than $200 back from the more than $10,000 (nearly half in federal income taxes) that I paid this year. So, I'm DEFINITELY a taxpayer. Yet, I make much less than the supposed cap and I didn't see a single penny increase in my paycheck. Aren't I in the 95%?

Anti-Gay Bullying Leads to Yet Another Child Suicide

2009-04-19T12:58:00.000-07:00

Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover was 11. Bullies at school called him fag and sissy. They tormented him because they thought he was gay. His mother continually demanded that the school intervene. They didn't. Carl killed himself 2 weeks ago. Once again, Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover was 11. Think about it.

Happy Passover! Day 6

2009-04-14T05:27:00.000-07:00

So not Passover-related, but it made my holiday a little bit better. This is the best fake commercial ever! Well, it'd be better with a dorky chick where the dorky guy is, but I'll settle.

Happy Passover! Day 5

2009-04-13T18:31:00.000-07:00

Okay. Technically, day 6 started at sundown, but I'm having internet and phone problems. So deal with it.

RIP: Dave Arneson 1947-2009

2009-04-12T08:03:00.000-07:00

Dave Arneson, co-creator of Dungeons & Dragons, has passed away. He was preceded in death last year by Gary Gygax, his fellow co-creator of the greatest game EVER!

I first discovered D&D in the mid-80's when a friend's older brother taught us how to play a half-assed kiddie version of the game. We didn't have any dice. He just read adventures to us and let us choose what we wanted to do.

I learned a lesson that day. Never step on a stick in D&D. You never know what nefarious purposes your DM may have for what seems to be a simple piece of wood. DM's are evil!

Despite the general evilness of dungeonmasters, I would go on to play D&D for a very long time. A dork has never had so much fun.

So, my gratitude to Arneson and Gygax. Here's hoping that they're adventuring still and that their DM is a little less evil than most.

Happy Passover! Day 4

2009-04-12T07:41:00.000-07:00

Happy Passover! Day 3

2009-04-11T13:04:00.001-07:00

Jeez...

2009-04-11T09:26:00.001-07:00

I wish Obama would stop giving me reasons to say I told you so. As satisfying as it is to my ego, it really sucks for my country.

Happy Passover!

2009-04-10T17:56:00.000-07:00

Chag Pesach Sameach!

2009-04-09T16:39:00.001-07:00

And........

2009-04-09T16:07:00.000-07:00

In 18 days, I'll be 33! Fuck that shit!

Okay, Here's the Really Freaky Part!

2009-04-09T15:44:00.000-07:00

I, Melinda Barton, have an 8 to 5 job where I have to wear freaking "professional office attire!" I take meetings with public officials. I write letters on letterhead. I have business cards! And not ones that say "Melinda: Professional Lesbian." I wear a watch and carry a wallet. I have a key ring with office keys on it. I have life insurance. And long-term disability insurance. And paid vacations. I have a fucking pension plan! I have to do my taxes this weekend and I have to pay AGAIN. My recent X-rays showed wearing on my knee due to AGE! I take like a gazillion pills every day and may have to start taking daily injections. I go to bed at 11... ON THE FREAKING WEEKENDS! I haven't been really drunk or really hung over in years! Almost all of my friends are married or getting married or trying to work up the nerve to get married. Some of them have kids. People call me Ma'am. Grown people! I'm a fricking great aunt! THIS IS NOT FAIR!

About My Last Post

2009-04-09T15:36:00.000-07:00

I know some of you think this is waaaaaaaaaay too funny. But you can stop laughing, because Ace, Charlie and CJ are going to be adults really damned soon. One day, you'll bend over to pick up their toys and when you stand back up, they'll be asking to borrow the car! And when that day comes, I will have my revenge!

I'm Very Disturbed...

2009-04-09T15:12:00.000-07:00

By all these grown people who keep popping up where my widdle babies used to be. They've got piercings and boyfriends and girlfriends and career plans and college acceptance letters and one even has a baby of her own. They can drive! They can vote! They can buy cigarettes! Some can buy alcohol!

I changed these people's diapers! I rocked them to sleep in their little onesies. I fed them baby food and gave them stuff to chew on when their first little teeth came in. I helped them practice walking. I kiss their booboos and gave them bandaids for invisible scratches. I tucked them in for naptime and told them bedtime stories. I taught them how to throw a ball and hold a bat and balance themselves in bizarre positions. I colored with them and watched cartoons sprawled out on the floor with them on Saturday mornings. I brought them to the Children's Museum and went with them to amusement parks and fairs. I threw them pizza parties and taught them magic tricks. I taught them to dance the box step to old 80's music. I pretended not to notice that they were singing off key at the top of their lungs. I taught them how to subway surf. I bought them porcelain angels and fairies for cleaning up their rooms. I had belching contests with them and played the "gross out" game. HOW DARE THEY GROW UP?! HOW DARE THEY!!!!!!

So, what has brought on this week's freak out?

I was talking to my nephew Brandon (who's 11) and my sister-in-law the other day as they were travelling out to Arkansas to visit a friend of hers. She tells me they had to leave on Saturday rather than Friday because... because... No, it's too disturbing. Okay, let me brace myself. Okay. BECAUSE MY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD NEPHEW, BRYAN, HAD A DATE! A DATE, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!

Just today, I was looking at my 18-year-old niece Aemanda's photos on MySpace. She's kissing a Marine and wearing formal evening gowns. She has piercings! There are pictures in there where the look on her face is exactly my little girl being all super-goofy as a kid. Then, BOOM, the next picture is this beautiful woman who'll be going off to college in a few months. COLLEGE! GET IT? COLLEGE!!!

Just yesterday... I SWEAR IT WAS JUST YESTERDAY!... I was in college playing hide and go seek and Laser Tag and drunken volleyball with my crazy ass friends! I don't remember growing up! I grew up, didn't I? No. It can't be! I'm still just a kid, right?

Darnit! It'd be a lot easier to believe that if these darned adults would stop calling me Aunt Neecee!

The Gay Marriage Myth....

2009-04-09T07:18:00.000-07:00

Many people are confusing ceremonies performed by clergy for gay couples with marriage ceremonies. Here's the truth.

ONLY the state can ratify a marriage. Clergy who perform ceremonies for gay couples outside of states where it is legal, must perform "commitment ceremonies" or "union blessings" NOT marriage ceremonies. It is a crime to perform a marriage without a license from the state. One clergywoman in New York has already been charged for performing a same-sex ceremony and calling it a marriage.

The clergy make every effort to make the ceremony as close as possible, religiously, to the sacrament performed for heterosexual couples but they aren't marriages and cannot legally be recognized as such.

UPDATE: It'd been a while since I read about the case. It was actually TWO clergywomen charged for performing THIRTEEN marriage ceremonies for gay couples.

Passover: The Quickie Version

2009-04-08T10:44:00.000-07:00

This "Two-Minute Haggadah" is perfect for all those people who ever asked me what Passover's all about. And it's hilarious!

Lies and the Lying Christians Who Tell Them

2009-04-08T07:59:00.000-07:00

Note: Not Christians in general, just the specific ones discussed here. I love me my Christian friends, even if they do eat pork and work on the sabbath!

Anywho, an anti-gay marriage group is running an ad against gay marriage, saying that the passage of gay marriage has led to violations of religious freedoms. You can read more about their lunacy at Salon's War Room.

Here was my response:

In all of these cases, the religious body was acting as an agent of the state, receiving state funding or running a business open to the public. Allowing them to discriminate would be a violation of anti-discrimination laws and a violation of separation of church and state, as the churches would then get special privileges not offered to secular agencies operating in the same capacities.

The churches remain free to discriminate in non-state funded, non-state related activities. There is NO violation of freedom of religion in these cases, just the "freedom" to take taxpayer money while discriminating against those same taxpayers.

It's a cheap shot, but imagine that one of these churches asked to use taxpayer money to discriminate on some other basis, such as religion, race, etc. Would anyone take their claims seriously?

I'd like to add that I'm astounded that the religious groups running anti-gay marriage campaigns for the last couple of years have used some of the most dishonest arguments available, ranging from substantive distortions to outright lies. How is it that those who claim to speak for G-d traffic so readily in lies and aren't being called out by anyone but their opponents? Don't the so-called Christians who oppose gay marriage have a problem with their co-religionists breaking one of the big ten so publicly? Isn't hypocrisy condemned in the Christian scriptures? And lying? And self-righteousness?

Step up, Christians. You're free to disagree with gay marriage. You are not free to drag the name of our G-d or your G-d through the mud with your lies and filth.

Oh Happy Day!

2009-04-07T12:23:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't heard already, Iowa (through unanimous Supreme Court mandate) and Vermont (through legislative override of the governor's veto) have joined Connecticut and Massachusetts in providing full marriage rights for same-sex couples. (California is still up in the air as we await the Supreme Court's decision on Proposition 8.)

Unfortunately, as long as the Defense of Marriage Act stands, these marriages will be recognized neither by other states nor by the federal government. On its face, DOMA is an unconstitutional violation of the Full Faith and Credit Clause and the Fourteenth Amendment and is being challenged on those grounds. Again, unfortunately, that challenge may take years to reach the Supreme Court.

In the meantime, any one else find it infuriatingly hilarious that the Defense of Marriage Act was signed by a serial adulterer?

UPDATE: The DC Council also voted unanimously to recognize gay marriages performed in other states. They will hold a final vote next month, but it's pretty much a done deal. This brings DC one step closer to allowing gay marriages to be performed in the nation's capital.

Heck Yeah!

2009-04-05T15:46:00.000-07:00

Stacey has linked to this site, which has reminded me of one of my pet peeves: people who don't get the heck up out of the disabled seats for someone who is disabled or injured AND people who push past disabled or injured people just because they fucking can.

I spent quite a while in a HUGE brace for my torn quadriceps and a couple months in a cast when I broke my arm in two places. I've also had a lot of less visible injuries. From personal experience, I can tell you that people on public transportation and in public restrooms suck!

When I was in my very visible HUGE knee brace, I was sitting where I was supposed to sit, the only place I could sit since I could barely bend my leg. This woman came stomping by and literally kicked my foot out of the way even though there was more than enough room since I was at an angle and my foot was only a few inches into the aisle. Just so you know, the forced, sudden bending of a torn body part does NOT feel good.

Other times, I had to try to balance myself standing as obviously healthy people did their best to look anywhere but at me as they enjoyed the disability seating. Trying to hold yourself up with a broken arm because the other one is full. Major suckage. Trying to hold yourself up on a moving vehicle driven by someone who got his driver's license from a Cracker Jack Box with only one functional leg. Also major suckage.

One day, at work, where EVERYONE knew I was injured, a very healthy coworker literally rushed past me into the handicapped stall so I had to WAIT until she was finished, doing the pee pee dance the whole way. Fortunately, another coworker came in, noticed the empty stall and told me to go ahead. This gave me the chance to explain LOUDLY that since I could barely bend my leg and needed both arms to get up from a seated position, I could ONLY use the now-occupied handicapped stall. I think that message was received b/c the guilty coworker couldn't even look in my direction as she walked out.

The point: Get your healthy ass up and let someone who can't stand on a moving vehicle without tremendous amounts of pain sit down. Don't use the freaking handicapped stall unless your're handicapped, disabled or injured OR there's no other option and your bladder is about to explode out of your abdomen. If you don't, you're a weak, pathetic asshole who should not be allowed to live in polite society. Do not complain if one of the decent people decided to stomp you for it just because WE can.

Googling Judaism...

2009-04-05T07:36:00.000-07:00

As Passover is coming up, I've been deepening my study of Judaism and its traditions. It's sort of my habit to spend a little more time than usual studying around the holy days. This year, I've been focusing on first century Judaism and the transition from pre-Diaspora to post-Diaspora Judaism (aka Rabbinic Judaism). Problem? Every time I google some of the topics I want to explore, the first few or first page of results are anti-Semitic or anti-Judaic to some extent, sometimes virulently so. Obviously, we Jews do not control the interwebs.

Is It Wrong....

2009-04-05T06:08:00.000-07:00

That I enjoy rubbing my superior wisdom in people's faces?