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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

Monday, July 31, 2006

Colonel Mustard. In the Library.

Who killed the electric car? Just ask Redneck Mother. She has some answers that will leave you frothing at the mouth this morning.

Hint: It was General Motors and the guv'mint smack in the middle of the murder plot.

I'm drinking Les Beans Ethiopian Sophie. She's a dark and flavorful tease that Sophie. And 2 ounces wasn't enough. I'm going to have to order some more of her.

It's raining here in Redneck Country. In fact, it poured sometime during the night. I know this because my bathroom floor was soaked. It's not a leak in the roof. It's an exhaust fan without a cover. Since it never rains here in July, I neglected to leave a towel on the counter. Even though there were big fat thunder heads rolling over the mountains.

For those of you who long ago gave up on my links, look to your left. Not only have they been fixed. They have also been expanded. And I have that nifty little technorati search this blog embed. Cool huh?

If I forgot to add you, feel free to spank me. HA!

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Identity & Obligation: BlogHer Workshop

Workshop Topic #1: Identity & Obligation

Do you control which parts of your identity are exposed?

A: To a degree, yes. I work for a Mormon owned company. And while they hire openly gay department heads, the corporate culture is very family oriented. I don't want an employee with a personal issue to Google me and be able to say, without a doubt, that 21st Century Lesbian Trailer Trash is my blog. More so even because of my left wing politics than because of my sexual orientation.

Do you feel an obligation to represent for your gender, race or culture?

A: I feel an obligation to represent for my gender and for the LGBT culture in real life so of course this is reflected in my blog. However, I do not feel that anyone else has an obligation to do the same. This is such a highly personal choice. Some people resent feeling forced to address topics that might place them in any particular category and I respect that. The internet is such a wonderful medium for creative and personal expression. I love the opportunity to fly the flag of my choice. And I love that everyone else gets to choose also.

Do you feel you’re not allowed to comment on issues facing a group to which you don’t belong?

A: No. But I do believe that specific groups have the right to say what is, for example, racism and what is not. So many white folks are unaware of the pervasiveness of racist thought and action in our culture. Yet they persist in asking questions like "But why are you so angry?" Or, "Why can you talk about white people and I can't talk about [black, asian, hispanic] you?"

It's human to be egocentric. But in this century, we need to shut our mouths and step outside ourselves a bit in order to consider the other point of view. And it's critical for all of us to recognize that there are some things we cannot understand because, simply, we are not living it every day.

Discussion Questions:

How do you decide what aspects of your identity you will reveal in your blog: culture, sexual orientation, political ideology, religion?

A: Probably the only topic I stay away from with much regularity is my spiritual practice. I do complain about fundamentalism, particularly christian fundamentalists, but more from a political perspective than religious. I truly don't have a problem with christian fundamentalism. It's the interface between that and the government that makes me crazy. We do, theoretically, have religious freedom in this country.

How do you feel about using your real name? Your childrens’ names?

A: I do not have children but I don't think I would use their names. I don't use the names of my siblings or my nieces on my blog. Pam is my real name but I am protective of my surname because it is somewhat unusual. I am certain that I have made some people angry and I really do not want them knocking on my front door.

If you blog about your race, religion, etc, - or even a personally difficult time of your life - do you feel it opens you (and your family) up to attack and/or do you feel it is a wonderful way to promote acceptance and diversity?

A: I think both are true. People are people. Some are open to new ideas and new ways of thinking. Some are not. It's a risk that we all take every day in life. So why not on my blog?

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Of Bodily Functions & BlogHer

Mimi Smartypants is talking about feminism and navigating the white water rapids of gender nazism (my phrase, not hers) in our culture while raising a daughter. After painfully dissecting this patriarchal bugaboo, she decides she may as well write about poop. And it's the funniest poop discussion I have seen in some time:

Nora tells me she has to poop. "Then go," I say. When does this stage of The Toilet Report end? She is fully trained, she needs no assistance, why must I be so very informed on her bowel activity? Anyway, she is in there for much longer than normal, so I go to see if everything is okay.

Me: Are you done?

Nora: I'm waiting.

Me: Waiting for what? If you pooped out all the poop, you are done.

Nora: There was only one piece of poop.

Me: Well, ah, it's different every time. If that's all there is, just wipe and move on.

Nora: Mommy, listen to me. I always have three pieces of poop. This time there was only one. I need two more.

Is it wrong of me to discuss poop and BlogHer in the same entry?

Shannon, over at Phat Mommy, is hosting a virtual BlogHer conference of her own.

Workshop Topic #1: Identity & Obligation

Do you control which parts of your identity are exposed? Do you feel an obligation to represent for your gender, race or culture? Do you feel you’re not allowed to comment on issues facing a group to which you don’t belong?


Discussion Questions:

How do you decide what aspects of your identity you will reveal in your blog: culture, sexual orientation, political ideology, religion?

How do you feel about using your real name? Your childrens’ names?

If you blog about your race, religion, etc, - or even a personally difficult time of your life - do you feel it opens you (and your family) up to attack and/or do you feel it is a wonderful way to promote acceptance and diversity?

Feel free to join in. I will probably answer these questions later during the weekend.

I Cannot Stand It

What makes Ann Coulter so special? She cannot tell one state from another, she cannot get her facts straight, and she pawns herself off as a serious intellectual when in fact she is nothing more than a very bad cabaret comedy act.

She called Al Gore a fag. Ooooooooh. I'm tellin'!

The woman is a glorified schoolyard bully. She's from the poo poo and pee pee school of insult. And she isn't much more than a C student when it comes to her knowledge base.

Or perhaps she is a very smart lady who thinks that dumbing down endears her to her right wing fan club. In which case they ought to consider dumping her like a 3 month old casserole that's been forgotten in the back of the refrigerator. There's a stink somewhere but you just can't find it.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Just For Syd


This is Syd's refrigerator of which she says That I have 2.5 Gallons of beer plus a hunk of Velveeta in my refrigerator doesn't make me White Trash. It makes me a Redneck.

Right now I am not drinking beer. I am drinking Bella Sera pinot grigio; a crisp and fruity white, with a delightfully sour bite that grabs the back of your throat. It's cheap too. Less than $10 a bottle.

Instead of Velveeta in my frig, I have aged cheddar and hot pepper jack. Does this make me uptown white trash? Because I still live in a mobile home.

Here is her favorite vanity license plate (or an approximation thereof): Grrl Toy.

What good is life if you can't yank someone's chain every now and then?

I'm going take my pinot grigio and watch a really bad movie, filled with violence, rap, and hopefully one or two naked women.

Always A Bridesmaid

...never a bride.

The
BlogHer 06 Conference is taking place in San Jose this weekend. It's easy to sink into the depths of despair, believing that all of the cool people are there while we mope around the lonely net looking for friends in low places.

Not so! I could easily have attended but had to make a conscious decision, because of other obligations and my upcoming trip in September, to stay home and take care of business.

Mom101 will be snapping pics single fisted because she already has a drink in the other hand. Stay tuned. They should prove to be wild and wonderful.

MetroDad has a great post about why BlogHim wouldn't ever fly.

I am drinking
Brokeback Bette from Les Beans coffee. Now here is a grrl with a kick ass attitude. Dark, rich, and flavorful, she is far more complex than you would expect of a dyke from Detroit who loves her some sheep, some women, and a camp fire. Ride 'em cowgirl! Not for sissies, I highly recommend this blend.

For those of us who are left behind to mind the store: blog on comadres!

Thursday, July 27, 2006

You Can Breathe Now

For those who insist that they must know, KMae bought an anniversary gift for her partner, Doris. She describes it thusly:

...a lovely Italian sculptured, exquisite golden cat bangle for my lover. Two gorgeous, sleek (dare I say slick?!) pussys facing each other.

Lesbians are so creative when it comes to talking about sex and genitalia, don't you think?

It's well past sundown so I am off the coffee and on to Dry Creek Vinyard chardonnay. It's a rather sweet white wine with a distinct taste of green apples.


I did bring home the nurses' schedule for August to work on. I thought about trying to do it while toasted and then thought better of it. It will be more fun to lie around and watch Laura Croft beat the crap out of a bunch of guys with more brawn than brains.

Why?

Does Blogger seem to want to have a complete and total nervous breakdown everytime I have something cool to post? It's really time to seriously activate my Typepad site.

When I come home this evening, I'll try to post about KMae's Golden Pussies. In the meantime, enjoy your Thursday.

I'm drinking Seattle's Best Henry's blend this morning. Any package with a cat (read Pussy) on the package has got to be good.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

I Don't Care Who You Sleep With

(Angry Dyke Alert)

This has got to be the dumbest thing that straight people utter when they find out you're queer. The first time someone actually said that to me, I was floored. Then it pissed me off.

It took me awhile to figure out why that response made me so angry. I thunk on that 'til my head was about to explode when it finally occurred to me to ask "Why don't you care who I sleep with? I thought we were friends?"

If you're my friend, I care who you sleep with. I don't care if it's a man or a woman. I don't need to know the details of your sex life. But I care that it's someone who makes you happy. Someone who loves you and who lights up your life. Someone who is present when you need them and who understands your little pieces of personal wierdness.

Imagine you're 16 and Tommy asks you to the prom. The proper response of your friends generally goes something like this:

*squeal* Did he kiss you? Do you like him? Is he cute?

Being 16, they will eventually ask you if you plan on "doing it" with him. This is normal. But we are not 16 anymore.

Imagine that you are 25 and Bob asks you to marry him. Instead of asking about wedding plans, honeymoons, houses and how many children you want, your friends and family are picturing the 2 of you having sex. Because isn't that what relationships are all about?

Truly, I don't care with whom you have casual sex either. Unless it's my girlfriend. But to reduce my sexual identity to nothing more than bedroom activities is insulting. And the message is that I have this life out there that matters to you. And one dirty little secret that is better kept quiet.

When I first started to come out, I found myself surrounded by people who told me I was still OK despite being gay. Like I was a disabled person who had to overcome a major handicap.

I was confused and frightened enough that I halfway bought it. Eventually though, I began to question what I had done to suddenly have partial citizenship thrust upon me.

Here's a news flash: God made me. The Universe gave me intelligence, wit and talent. Along with an attraction to women. I didn't study up on homosexuality and decide that was the "lifestyle" I wanted.

And by the way, a life style is what you read about in Better Homes & Gardens. It is not about which gender rocks your world.

It is not all about sex.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Always Check Your Links

It seems that yesterday I may have been sending people to a lesbian porn site instead of to Les Beans Coffee.

Hmmmmm. Did y'all have fun?

I know the party line is supposed to be that we hate pornography because it is sick and unhealthy and twists peoples' minds; especially the minds of young boys and men.

I just hate porn because it's so unrealistic. Like I'm gonna have a 3 way just so some dude can get off.

Plus, once I click on a link, even by accident, my spam box starts getting 500 emails a day.

This morning I am drinking
Les Beans Mon Ami Zoe. She's a dark, rich roast with a little bit of spice and a nice kick.

It's Tuesday and I am under the gun at work. But I decided to take some of the pressure off and stop house hunting. It can wait until after the Holidays.

Since I made the decision, I suddenly find myself cleaning my messy house. It just might be ready for my sister in September. Yay me!

Monday, July 24, 2006

LesBeans Save the Day

Blogger had a mini mental breakdown this morning and almost sent me screaming out of the house. That is, until I smelled the rich aroma of Sumatra Momma.

Here's the party line: She has a full, voluptuous body and a stature as majestic as her island flowers. Her voice is rich and chocolaty, and as soft as a sea breeze.

Well. I couldn't have said it better myself. For those odd ducks who dislike chocolate, do not be alarmed. It's not that sweet syrupy stuff that Momma offers. It's that full, rich, and just a tiny bit bitter, note that the cocoa bean adds. Kind of like singing the blues on a sunlit summer morning with the soft sound of the waves rolling on the beach.

Isn't it just like The Lesbians to always save the day?

Jaz, dear dog that she is, is still at the bottom of her obedience class. While she did not pee on the instructor this time, she still refuses to take a toy, look at the instructor, or even take a cookie from her. She did sniff the butts of all the other dogs however. This led the instructor to say "Well, her social skills are improving."

Like many problem children, she performs beautifully at home. But put her with the other children and she's a mess. I think she may have to repeat puppy school before we move on.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

The Sweet Scent of Sunday


When I was a little girl, every day and every season had a certain smell and a particular quality to the light. On Sundays, the air was heavy with flowers, fried chicken and biscuits. The light was a warm yellow, dripping buttery streaks across the pastel dresses of little girls on their way to church.

Sundays were quiet and peaceful. When I was very young, there was no such thing as shopping on a Sunday. Stores were always closed on Sundays. The entire world entered a cocoon of silent reflection.

Salvadore Dolly is a Sunday sort of coffee; sweet, mellow, and dreamy. Just as advertised. I opened the package and smelled that fresh earth scent found in some of the best beans. Not overly strong, Dolly is full and round in the mouth with just a hint of something sweet. Nice.

So what was I doing brewing coffee at 5 a.m. on a Sunday? For some odd reason, Sempra Energy called me at 0430. No message left. It must have been a wrong number because they hung up as soon as the message said "This is Pam."

Thirty minutes of tossing and turning was all I could take. It was still 80 degrees in the house with the swamp cooler and all of my fans going. Opening windows did not help. It was 80 degrees outside too.

I found a few things while blog surfing this weekend that seem worthy of sharing on a Sunday. The first is
Michelle O'Neill's post about forgiveness. She has a young daughter who is autistic:

Dr. Cole-Whittaker’s presentation lasted over three hours, and at one point during her talk, I caught a glimmer of something.

-What if I thanked the government and the drug companies for the journey autism has taken us on?

-What if we were to use all we’ve learned from the experience, as a launching pad to take ourselves further than we’d ever have gone?

-What if these sweet babies are not victims, but have volunteered for the assignment to take a whole generation of parents to a level of consciousness they never would have come close to?

All I know is.... as we grow spiritually, Riley continues to get better. It’s as if she's on a sacred mission, and until her parents really “get it“ she must hold out.

I made mention last week of Bint Alshamsa's post on racism. A young wife and mother, she deals every day with incurable cancer. One wonders how the Universe can be so cruel. Yet her heart is large and her spirit is strong. Every minute that she is on the planet is a gift not just to her family, but to all of us. Check out her Photo site also.

Then there is wee
Millie who at the age of 2 is also dealing with cancer. Her family is something to be admired. Ordinary people thrust into extraordinary circumstances and facing them with love, courage, and an openness to life.

Today I will drop off my laundry at the fluff and fold, stop by my work to complete a couple of small but pressing tasks, hopefully clean a bit, take Jaz to obedience training, and look at another house.

Perhaps I can keep my blessings in front of me instead of tucked away in some hidden corner where I forget to consider them.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

OMG! Salvadore Dolly Has Arrived


Along with a few of her very good friends: Mon Ami Zoe, Costa Rita, Brokeback Bette, Sumatra Momma, and Ethiopian Sophie.

If it was not once again 112 in Redneck Country (I kid you not), I would brew some right now. But at the very least I will have to wait until after dark. And since it is a weekend night, I can risk the caffeine.

Oh mama! Les Beans has come through for me.

Bull SHIT!

At the risk of being brow beat by disabled rights activists, here is my question: What do you do with a 380 pound quadriplegic when your hospital has been evacuated, you are surrounded by flood waters, cut off from supplies, and the cavalry ain't a comin'?

From Truthout:

Fury Meets Katrina Hospital Arrests
By Richard Fausset and Ann M. Simmons
The Los Angeles Times
Friday 21 July 2006
Doctors defend the accused: "The people who were not here" are to blame for deaths.

New Orleans - This week's arrest of a doctor and two nurses who stayed through Hurricane Katrina to care for stranded hospital patients - but are now accused of killing four of them - has prompted a strong backlash in the medical and legal communities here...

[Dr. Anna] Pou, 50, and nurses Lori L. Budo, 43, and Cheri A. Landry, 49, were booked Monday on suspicion of second-degree murder for allegedly injecting patients with lethal drugs at Memorial Medical Center on Sept. 1. It was three days after Katrina struck New Orleans, leaving the city in chaos and deep water. There was no electricity, water or phone service at the hospital, and only a few rescue boats were available for evacuations...

"By personal accounts from nurses, doctors, administrators, and support personnel who knew Dr. Pou and had worked with her closely in the months before Katrina, her work during the crisis was 'heroic,' 'selfless' and 'distinguished,' " Nuss said in a prepared statement. "With other dedicated doctors and nurses, she worked without sleep and without nourishment…. At great self-sacrifice, she prevented further loss of life and has been credited with saving multiple people from dying.

"Apparently there were individuals in the hospital who could not understand why so many people were dying," Nuss' statement continued. "Allegations were made, egregiously accusing Dr. Pou and the others of giving too much narcotic pain medication, and even using the word 'euthanasia.' This attracted national news coverage, which became absurdly sensationalistic..."

Investigators allege the suspects killed four patients - all residents of a long-term care ward - with a drug cocktail of morphine and midazolam, which is commonly used to relieve pain and anxiety among long-term-care patients.

In an affidavit, a witness alleges that Pou said "lethal" doses of the drugs would be given to a number of patients on the ward.

Among the patients was a 380-pound paralyzed man who was "aware, conscious and alive," according to the affidavit.

Did they have the right to euthanize people? No. Did they? We don't know that. But we weren't there dealing with the aftermath of Katrina were we?

While we're at it, why not put GW on trial for being an accessory to murder. After all, he ignored the call when it was sounded. He has a huge share in the fact that those people were left in an untenable situation and without help in the first place.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Mixed Bag

I anticipate a hellacious day at the Funny Farm. So I have spent my early morning blog surfing in hopes of finding the perfect post. Well, at least a giggle or three.

In my email I found this:

Save America's Wolves

Alaska's majestic gray wolves are in grave danger. Marksmen use low-flying planes to chase the wolves, shooting them from the skies or running them to exhaustion and killing them at point-blank range. Like all living creatures, these wolves deserve a fair chance at survival. But instead of fulfilling our moral obligation to protect them as a legacy for future generations, the Bush administration has watched silently as hundreds have been massacred.

Then, I read about Israel's attacks on Lebanon in Soujourners Magazine.

Nothing brought home to me the devastation in Lebanon though, more than listening to a favorite waitress, Silva, talk about her family currently trapped in Beirut. Back in the day, Silva was a Lebanese freedom fighter and barely escaped with her life.

I have always been a champion of Israel. But the attacks on Lebanon are just wrong. They're killing civilians. And it won't stop the terrorists.

Then I read
Jenn over at Reappropriate. One must see the humor in declaring this past week Blog Against Racism Week:

While I applaud having a bunch of bloggers discuss race politics, I'm going to side on the "anti-special-times-to-do-things" side this time around (in blatant disregard of the inherent hypocrisy of saying this and then celebrating Asian American Heritage Month) and ask: why should we make this week (of all weeks) International Blog Against Racism week? Shouldn't every week be committed to talking about race and/or racism? Does participating in this one week excuse all bloggers from talking about race for the rest of the year and still get to keep their "down for the cause" badge?

I blog about race and racism every week. It must be nice to be one of those bloggers who can ignore racism 51 weeks out of the year.

(Also, I just had to say it: I just love how the IBAR icons include two anime icons. Asiaphilia, anyone? God, I just gotta stop drinking the Haterade.)

And while we are on the subject, what's up with all of the hate toward Niobe? Read the article on My Private Casbah by Bint Alshamsa. It will make you weep.

I was happy to see that
Twisty is Back From The Abyss after Boobalectomy 06 and engaged in retail therapy. It's good to have her back and kicking the fat ass of The Patriarchy.

Meanwhile, it turns out that
Mocha Momma has some sort of shoe fetish and has been engaging in some retail therapy herself along with hiding out from other females who are brazen enough to copy her style. NursePam would not mess with NinjaMocha.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

It's Official

Salvadore Dolly is having herself mailed to me post haste. Don't be jealous just because we're a beautiful couple. I promise to share.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

A Boy and His Dog

There was a message on my answering machine on Monday evening from an obviously adolescent boy. The only things I could make out from the mumbled message were a name, which did not ring a bell, and the phrases "stay overnight" and "my mom's phone number."

The mystery was solved when R. left me a message on Tuesday. It was Jaz's boy, wanting to know if she could visit for awhile. M. has been out of summer school for a week now and he misses his dog. We talked for a little while and came up with a plan. They only live about 15 minutes down the freeway from me so it's easy.

I packed up her food, her wee pads, some treats, her leash, and a couple of toys. This evening I rushed home, fed her, and plopped her, unceremoniously into the bathtub. Not a happy camper.

But when I got to the freeway exit ramp, Jaz went nuts. When I pulled into the parking lot of their condo complex I thought the dog was going to take my face off in her attempt to fly through the window.

R. just could not believe how happy that little fur ball was to see her. She's still convinced Jaz will forget them. I don't think so. She danced, she wriggled, she raced crazily around the house to make sure everything was still there. She bounced from me to R. to M. and back again.

We showed M. the "sit, down, and wait" commands and how to work on loose leash walking. He is ready for the task, taking it quite seriously.

As soon as Jaz realized I was leaving her, she became agitated so I said my goodbyes and beat a hasty retreat. On the way out, R said "I feel so blessed that we found you." And once again I told her, I feel like I'm the one who received a gift.

I'll pick Jaz up on Friday afternoon. In the meantime she is safe with people who love her. And a young boy did not have to say goodbye to his dog forever.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

It's Only Tuesday

The computer is not together. After obedience training, Jaz and I napped most of the afternoon on Sunday. And it seems that all of the pieces were not present and accounted for anyway. The remainder arrived yesterday.

I did come to a realization however. That is, I am not overwhelmed by my house. But I sure have a hell of a lot to throw or give away.

Another realization. I am not going to freak out over that dumb job of mine. There is no point to it if I let them kill me. It turns out that one of the poor nursing directors called in on a weekend to check on her facility and the staff accused her of being drunk. Over the telephone.

She was probably exhausted, awoke groggily from a nightmare about her facility, and thought it would be a good idea to check and see if the staff had burned the place down while she slept.

Large corporations are all alike. Whatever they tell you, they don't care about people. They care about the bottom line. I'm gonna go play Nursie 8 hours a day and be done with it.

Pardon me, but it appears that my hippie cum revolutionary cum angry dyke roots are showing. Gonna find me some of that lezzie coffee and pout in my office this morning. And I'm too damned disgruntled to post a bunch of links.

The news sucks too. I'm on the hunt today for a really big belly laugh.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Balmy: Both Meanings

It is a positively balmy 96 degrees outside at 11 a.m. And I'm still a wee bit crazy. I refuse to dismantle this computer until I have the new one 90% together and have a clear understanding of where everything else goes.

The dog had a bath this morning. And while we are on the subject of dog, does anyone know the best product to worm a 5 pound 5 ounce dog? The butt scraping on the carpets is not nice.

Also, I have itchy little bumps all over my arms. Both animals have been treated for fleas. I'm wondering if I'm allergic to Jaz's shampoo. Either that or I now have a good case of mites from her.

We go to obedience training this afternoon. I will be happy if Jaz doesn't cower in a corner like she did the last time.

And for the one who keeps bugging me about pics, give me about another week. In between my other projects, I have to figure out how to load my camera onto the new computer. Besides, Jaz ought to go to the groomer next Saturday. The bows over the ears are just too cute to miss.

I know everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if I was stuck on the floor. Not yet.

Oh. And the house. My friend found another one in the park that I am giving serious consideration to. It's a bit more expensive but needs no work. There is a glassed in California room, a nicely landscaped yard and beautiful siding. Also, this one has large windows which I love.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

112 in Redneck Country

If I am offline for a good portion of the remainder of the weekend, it will not be because of the godawful heat. It will be because my new Dell desktop, complete with 20 inch flat screen monitor has arrived. If I have a stroke, it will not be from the heat. It will be from the frustration of being 57 years old and crawling around on the floor wondering "where this F*ing piece goes".

On another front, there are issues going on with my boss and I should not be allowed anywhere near the internet lest I say something that I will dearly regret.

Oh. And the new house? It is not yet to be. I have the financing lined up but the price is $11K higher than originally quoted. I will end up in that park however. I don't care if it's a single wide tin can with no storage space.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Lezzie Beans!


Actually, its Les Beans and they make Dyke Coffee. The pic on the left is their trademark bean. I hope they don't slap me down for using it. Thank you SaltySnack! She sent me to this article in the Southern Voice:

Grinding out a hot idea Two women put clever name, touch of sex appeal into their coffee
By SHERI ELFMAN
Friday, July 14, 2006

What do you get when you combine a nuclear medicine expert and a high school English teacher? You get the clever minds behind the new on-line coffee and tea store, Les Beans Coffee. Whichever way you want to pronounce it, you can’t deny the catchiness of the name.

Business and life partners Desiree Ramos-Aponti and Patti Lucia first ran the online coffee and tea store, The Boca Bean & Tea Company, for a year when they came up with the idea to start Les Beans.

If you go to their online store you find coffees with tantalizing and titillating names like Cafe Feminino, Salvador Dolly, Columbiana Loquita, Antigua Annie, and Mocha Lisa. They also offer fair trade organic teas and fair trade chocolate. There are some coffee gifts available and bean wear will be available at some time in the future.

I'm sorry Boca Bruce. I know I teased you with our little peccadillo and I hope you can forgive me once you mend your broken heart. We'll always have Papua New Guinea Quest and Coastal Costa Rica. But I'll probably be packing up my U Haul to move in with Salvador Dolly.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Power to the Pussy

OK. This ought to be the post title that pulls in all of the trolls, spammers, and people searching for pornography. But I couldn't resist it. MochaMomma did a hilarious piece yesterday about being in her gynecologist's office and making the decision to put her panties on top of the clothing pile.

After all, this guy has seen her Ta Ta. What more is there? Oh. But there is more. Now she has plans to
raise the flag at the BlogHer 06 conference here in California. We don't know all of the details yet but do monitor that blog.

Her panty piece put me in mind of something that happened to my sister almost 30 years ago. At that time I had a best friend named Kathleen. Kathleen was married to an OB-GYN by the name of Bill. Bill was notorious for boinking every nurse he could get his hands on. This drove them into couples counseling but that's a whole different story.

One day I was complaining that I could not find a Ta Ta doctor that I liked. Kathleen insisted that I go see Bill. I protested that that would be far too awkward as I frequently had to face Bill across the dinner table. Besides, we had this reputation of his to consider.

"Oh, that's different" Kathleen said airily. "He looks at vaginas all day long. It's just work to him. He won't remember what yours looks like when he sees you at the dinner table. Knowing Bill, he won't even remember that he saw yours."

We had this discussion several times before I finally broke down and made an appointment with Bill. It worked out fine. We were able to separate our personal and professional association with no difficulty.

Several years elapsed. My sister K. and her husband decided they were ready to try to get pregnant. K. had not found a gynecologist that she liked. I insisted that she go see Bill. She was a little reluctant because she really wanted a female gynecologist but she agreed to give Bill a try.

The day of the appointment dawns. It so happens that Bill greets K. in the waiting room. "Mrs. C., I'm Dr. E. Come right this way please." He turns her over to the nurse with not one indication that he has any clue who she is.

He enters the exam room after she has dressed herself in one of those little paper gowns. The exam proceeds with all of the usual poking, prodding, and history taking. Still no sign of a connection.

They reach the fun part where the woman lies on the exam table and puts her legs up in the stirrups and the doctor or the nurse says "Slide your bottom down. No, more. Further." Eventually your bottom and everything personal is hanging off the end of the table and your toes are high over your head.

Bill gets right down to business along with the usual grunts and inane chatter happening on the other side of the drape. The drape is so that you don't have to watch the doctor poking your private parts.

He picks up the speculum (ancient torture device), and just as he inserts the ice cold metal into K's Ta Ta he says "Ya know. I would know that you and Pam were sisters anywhere."

My sister, being much more traditionally conservative and well bred than I, nearly jumped off the table. Truly she thought he was referring to the look and configuration of our respective vaginas.

"Trust me," I told her later, "Bill has no clue what he said to you. He was trying to make pleasant conversation during an awkward moment. Remember. He's a man. He's clueless."

I don't think she ever completely trusted me on that.


I think had we been brave enough to wave the panty flag back in the days when women were burning their bras, feminism might have taken a turn for the better. After all, breasts are just a conduit for baby milk. But pussies? Pussies are where the real female power sits.

In your face people!

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Feminism & The Average Woman

Jenn, over at Reappropriate, has some interesting thoughts on social issues and academia. To wit, the feminist movement takes place largely in the hallowed halls of academe; thus rendering it inaccessible to the average woman.

What really surprised me was not so much that women of color feel marginalized in general, but that white women feel excluded because of "women of color only space" and that straight women believe that because they are not lesbians they are somehow excluded from the feminist movement.

Let's get a couple of things clear here. White women in general have to accept the fact that while we do not have white male privilege, we do have white person privilege. And straight women have heterosexual privilege.

But that isn't the issue here. The issue is that while we are having the discussion at all, the woman who is raising 3 kids and working at WalMart is completely cut off from the conversation.

Born from our need to legitimize Feminism by way of the academic community, we are leaving those women who might benefit in the dust.

My only solution is to live that old adage to make the personal political and the political personal. The majority of my employees fall into the category of working class woman. To spout feminist theory helps them not at all. But to help them frame their day to day issues within that context plants a seed from which a plant may grow
.

The feminist movement will continue to go nowhere if we do not share our knowledge with others who will benefit. When I die, I don't want people to say "She was really smart." I want people to say "She helped me in life."

Monday, July 10, 2006

The Circle of the Life of Bigots

Thanks to Elle Voyage, I found a 1959 article on the Blog of the Moderate Left. From the Minneapolis Star Tribune, it's about the attempt of the Minnesota legislature to write anti-miscegenation laws into their State constitution.

Would someone please explain to me how this is different from what is going on in the fight to prevent gay marriage?

1959 column by former Minneapolis Tribune columnist Catherine Kjerstinsen (1908-1977):

Opinion polls in 1959 revealed that a majority of Minnesotans support the proposed marriage amendment to the state Constitution, which would define marriage as the union of one man and one woman of the same race. That’s why a few Senate DFLers are working overtime to make sure that the full Senate — and you, the voters — don’t get to vote on it.

During the 1956 presidential campaign, Adalai Stevenson likened the push for interracial marriage to the fight against the Nazis. Sen. Hubert Humphrey agrees. “Discrimination isn’t just about other nations anymore,” he told WCCO Radio. “I still am not sure that if I had to depend on the Minnesota legislature to have my civil rights, that I would have them.” Humphrey claims that the proposed amendment would put discrimination in the Minnesota Constitution.

The NAACP, a negro advocacy organization, says that “[p]ublic opinion cannot be allowed to permanently enshrine discrimination into the Constitution.”

Miscegenation
1. The interbreeding of different races or of persons of different racial backgrounds.

2. Cohabitation, sexual relations, or marriage involving persons of different races.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Go to the Bottom of the Class

So we started obedience training today. Jaz is not only the oldest dog in the class, but also the least obedient. While all of the other dogs listened to their owners, sat on command, followed "leave it" and "wait," Jaz whined, jumped in my lap, and generally acted like a pussy.

Loose leash walking? Not even in her Universe. According to her, it never will be.

She wouldn't even take treats from me. And she was downright rude to the trainer. She even peed on the floor while we were practicing the loose leash walking.

It's official. I have a problem child. I foresee lots of homework in our future.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Small Miracles

I was just about to turn in my badge and give it up as a bad job. One day back from vacation and I ended up on a double shift. 2 full medication passes in the high acuity cottage. To be sure I had help on a few other things but by midnight I wanted to lie down in the middle of the floor and sleep for a week. My entire body hurt.

The poor little nurse who came in to relieve me at 8:30 had sprained her hand. She gave it that old college try but she couldn't even pop one pill out of the bubble pack. Somehow she patched together a night shift to cover herself and called her fiance` to take her to the emergency room. (At this point she really didn't know what was wrong. Her hand was numb and swollen, and she had chest pain).

I went over to my office at about 11:10 p.m. and mentioned (again) that we still had no night nurse for Sunday or Monday. Brat Nurse, who can be a spectacular leader on the days she feels like it, said that she would see what she could do.

Lo and behold she just called to tell me that she had done it. I could have cried. I could have kissed her. If I could have I would have given her a $5 raise.

Earlier, I went to my toy dog obedience class and I was the only one that showed up. So with a 15 minute orientation session I start tomorrow in a puppy class with 2 other dogs; a larger puppy and an 8 month old Yorkie.

They gave me 24 hours to teach her to respond to her name on cue. Not too difficult since she was halfway there. After I worked her for awhile, I scooped her up, swung by the Starbucks drive through, and went over to my friend Dixie's house. She had a place in her park for me to look at.

Twice the size of my home, in better shape with washer and dryer hook ups and central air. It's a prettier park and it is occupant owned. God Bless America. It's selling for less than I paid for mine. I have financing lined up. The only question is how fast can I sell my current home?

Everyone keep your fingers and toes crossed that I can make this fly.

Oh yeah. I had iced coffee with a splash of cream and specialty syrup. Dixie had her usual: passion fruit iced tea with lemonade and blackberry syrup. Good for whatever ails you.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Dancing Queen







Swaying in the crowd, I saw her,
The tiny woman in the hot pink dress,
White strand of beads shimmering
In the dying summer light.

She closed her eyes,
Her beatific smile glowing;
She could feel it inside her
The music of the sweet jazz band.

She danced and danced
As though the world had vanished;
She danced and with that dance
I thought my heart would break.

Her tiny form swirled
Around and in and out the crowd;
She danced her love,
She danced her soul, she danced beyond.

Beyond the limits of her being,
Beyond the limits of all our seeing,
Beyond the sky and to the stars.
She danced and set me weeping.

Babies, Babies, Babies


This piece, entitled Impious, is by a talented artist friend of mine by the name of Theresa Pergola. She and her partner live in NYC. About 2 & 1/2 years ago they had triplets with the help of artificial insemination. And beautiful children they are.

Between caring for her babies, one of whom has a developmental disorder, helping her partner who recently underwent back surgery, and working 40 hours per week, she wrote a book. Now that's energy.

It's a memory book for children conceived by other than ordinary means, called Born of Love.


Born of Love is a delightful journal that helps parents tell the story of their child’s first year. It contains 64 pages of beautiful black and white photographs, quotations and prompts to inspire memories, thoughts and reflections of their child’s first year. The spiral binding allows the book to lay flat when open for ease of writing. The superbly organized layout helps parents to:

Record milestones
Preserve special photographs
Create a family circle
Store cherished mementos
Keep vital medical information
Maintain important donor, surrogate and sibling information


Born of Love makes a wonderful baby gift for expectant or new parents. From preconception to their first birthday, a child will appreciate discovering the details of their beginnings.

We all yearn to be celebrated. Theresa has given her children, and thousands of others, a great big Welcome to the World.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Happy Independence Day

The question of the week on my favorite message board is "Where do you see America headed during the next ten years?"

This has always been a vibrant and changing country. A country that has fostered change and growth in every aspect throughout our history. A country that has struggled and fought for the cause of liberty and justice for all. A country of rugged individualists and seekers of Truth.

But today and for the last several decades I have watched as we slide down the slippery slope of self interest and fear.

Racism remains rampant. Racial profiling has become the new necessity of terrorism. Personal privacy is no longer sacred. We talk about the greater good and the interest of the many over the few. And yet who does this serve?

It serves only the rich and the powerful. And it will not serve them in the end if the "little people" are left to founder in the morass of anger, fear, and despair. Sooner or later more people will wake up and realize that they indeed are not living the American dream; that they may never have an opportunity to live that dream. I foresee urban riots visiting us again if we do not take a hard turn toward fixing what is wrong with this country.

We care more about profit and power than we care about children, the poor, the elderly, the ill and the infirm. During the settlement of the old west, people banded together to care for each other. Yes, there were some shameful times during that history. But remembering that people are a product of their times, we must forgive those people and recognize that they were forming true communities. Not perfect communities, but communities in which every person had an important and valued role to play.

Today, the world is our village. And yet America seems once again to want to close its doors and huddle behind the sofa as though we are in the midst of the London blitz. If we do not get over the great fear that all the world wishes to do us harm and take away all of our toys, we will surely die behind that sofa.

*The opinions in this entry are in no way connected with Sojourners Magazine.

Monday, July 03, 2006

All That Jaz

I bought a new Dell computer today with all the trimmings. I'm so excited. It should be here in about a week or so. Then I'll be able to post pics of fun things like the dog, my messy office, and my little tin house.

Today we took a trip to the regular vet; that is not Dr. Ford. Jaz needed to have her vaccines updated and I also wanted to get a look at her medical record and establish a baseline for her.

What I have learned (and what was again confirmed today) is that one must be very assertive with the average vet. It was necessary to ask him leading questions like "Isn't it true that chronic skin conditions in dogs are frequently associated with food allergies and/or immune disorders?"

The first thing he recommended was a lower protein diet. So we had to have the discussion about protein wasting bowel issues. We agreed that I would start her on a prescription diet but that he would draw a total protein and albumin on her which won't tell me if she has irritable bowel but it will let me know if she is currently in the safe zone. Her stool is somewhat funky which can be an indicator of irritable bowel.

He prescribed an anti itch shampoo to use after the antifungal shampoo for comfort. He also gave us some special fish oil capsules with Omega 3 and other fatty acids for her skin. And we also picked up a newer product called Revolution for combating fleas, ticks, scabies and heatworm. Pretty nifty.

What I learned was that this dog has never been tested for heartworm, has never had thorough basline blood work, and has never been given anything other than the antifungal shampoo to treat her skin condition. I'm not entirely convinced that the importance of these things were thoroughly outlined to this woman. Because I believe if she had understood the big picture she would have followed through.

I had to push to get the vet to take the next step. He wasn't about to take it any further. This is not a shoddy street corner vet. It is one of the better veterinary clinics in the county. People bring their animals from miles away and have done so for years.

Her previous owner is a loving, caring, educated professional woman. She loved this little dog and took wonderful care of her. But she doesn't know what I have learned the hard way. "Don't take their word for it." R. did extensive research before buying this dog.

Jaz came from a Texas breeder. We are in California. If you must buy a purebred, I heartily advise against it without seeing the dogs and the kennels. Educate yourself about common medical problems found in the breed and ask what the breeder has done to select out those traits.

Over 50% of all purebred animals end up in shelters within the first 2 years of life. This is right where Jaz was headed. She might be there right now, or worse, had Maggie not died when she did. Because of her skin condition she might not have been so easy to place. Or she might have been placed with someone who is ignorant of the time and expense with caring for such a dog, ending in a failed adoption.

I'm glad that I have her. She's a real sweetheart. But she will always be a high maintenance animal. How I wish that we could eliminate irresponsible breeders. The shelters are full of wonderful animals waiting for adoption.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Trailer Trash Stories

Holy BatDyke Robin. The 3 of us slept in until 10:30 a.m. yesterday morning. (The 3 of us being the cat, the dog, and myself). It was an ungodly 94 degrees outside. And it was 88 indoors. This is because I turned off the swamp cooler to save on energy.

This morning was only a few degrees cooler. 91.

I received an email this week from the woman who authors onsilverwings.com

It seems that she was doing some sort of search (trailers maybe?) and ran across this blog. Cool beans. She's smart, funny, and adventurous. I called her darlin' in my reply and she says this means I am coming dangerously close to becoming a redneck.

Anyway, I decided to do a google search of trailer trash. I showed up on page 7 with my Kinja card. Big whoop. But I also discovered that there were several porno flicks made called
Trailer Trash Nurses. How much do you want to bet that most of them contained some ersatz lesbian love scenes?

Then there is the honky tonk country band that calls itself
Trailer Trash. It has to be good.

I also found the Barbie alternative:
Trailer Trash Talkin' Turleen

If Barbie makes you want to puke, and memories of your childhood being forced to play with Barbie dolls induces nightmares, we have the cure. Introducing Trailer Trash Talkin' Turleen. Yes that's right, a burping, beer drinking, cigarette smoking, 12 inch tall doll, the exemplifies true American White Trash. Press her belly, (it's big because she's got one in the oven) and she will share some pearls of wisdom with the sophistication and style that makes her family and third grade teacher proud.

"..Pour me a double, I'm drinking for two..."- Turleen

Funny picture for the day: The little fella who found an open bar in an art museum.

Political story for the day: Lumpyhead's post called
Verily I Wanted to Throw Up. Commentary on the Mommy Wars and Linda Hirshman's discussion published in the Washington Post.

And phrase for the day comes from d over on dreams etc: It sucked donkey balls.

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