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21st Century Lesbian Trailer Trash

These are the mad musings of a middle aged woman, dyke, nurse, poet. I have a dog, a cat, a mobile home, and delusions of grandeur.

Name:
Location: California, United States

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Happy Easter Happy Spring


Happy Happy Everything!

The above is nothing more than the little psychotic who lives inside my head making up Hallmark greetings simply because it is Easter Sunday.

The pink font is for little girls everywhere who are wearing their frilly dresses and Easter bonnets today while they smear chocolate on their faces and their little, white gloves.

I wasn't really raised a true christian. I was raised by self proclaimed agnostics who eventually dragged me off to the Unitarian church where they believe that Jesus was a prophet and not the son of God. Then there was the stepfather who was a lapsed Catholic. He traipsed happily along with us to the the Unitarian church because it made his parents crazy.

When we visited Grama and Grampa Jones, we went to mass. This is where my overly sensitive sister went through a phase of wanting to convert to catholicism and perhaps become a nun. I simply liked the fashion statement of the little lace mantilla that Grama plunked on my head just before we entered the sacred door. I learned how to kneel and how to make the sign of the cross so that the congregants would believe I was a good little catholic girl. This was part of my childhood training in How To Fit In So They Can't Spot You.

It's why people today sometimes believe that I am a moneyed snob. I went to high school in an upper middle class neighborhood where I learned that Capezios, a Villager skirt, and a good manicure can cover up a host of shortcomings.

None of this prevented me from growing up to be a lesbian. In fact, Unitarian Sunday school probably radicalized me by teaching me world religions. That and growing up around University of Michigan students from all over the world.

That I grew up in a small town fondly referred to as Ypsi-tucky only enhanced my ability to blend in with my environment. I can talk to a PhD candidate and a factory worker with equal ease. But only one person on my job knows for sure that I am a dyke. This is because I told her that I was. It is not often that I set off someone's gaydar.

My favorite Easter as an adult was the year I went out with a bunch of my friends to a German restaurant where I had hassenpfeffer. Some of the little kids present were rather upset with me when they figured out that I was eating the Easter Bunny. Apparently, it is OK to eat the body of Christ. But eating the Easter Bunny is sacreligious. Go figure.

Today I will probably eat an omelette and see if I can find an open Starbucks. I'll take the Magster Dog because we could both use some fresh air.


Kinja, the weblog guide

5 Comments:

Blogger Me again said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

10:35 AM PDT  
Blogger Me again said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

11:10 AM PDT  
Anonymous me again said...

Check your YahooIM.

2:47 PM PDT  
Blogger NursePam said...

I ended up eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead.

Got your message. Thanks :o)

9:03 PM PDT  
Blogger Pat Kirby said...

I pretty much did the same thing, behaving like a chamelion and fitting in wherever necessary. Tho' I was playing Mexican or Anglo, rather than straight or lesbian. Weird the games we end up playing.

Easter is pretty much a non event at my house. Just another Sunday.

7:38 AM PDT  

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