Friday, March 23, 2007

San Diego

I was in San Diego last weekend to visit my old boyfriend, The Hessian.

Once home, I realized that The Hessian and I are two people standing on a small bit of sand in the middle of a wide, rushing river. On our little island, our love and regard for one another has remained unchanged as time flows past us.

Years ago, I recited Robert Burns' poem to The Hessian while we sat on my deck one night:

"... and I will love thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas gone dry.

"Till all the seas gone dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
And the sands of life shall run.

"And fare thee well, my only love!
And fare thee well awhile!
And I will come again, my love
Though it were ten thousand mile."


It's tax time once again, dear readers. It's that time of year when we receive a little piece of paper in the mail encapsulating and distilling all the worry, sweat, political manuevering, yes'ing, meetings, office potlucks and fake smiles in the hallway, into a sterile number in Box 1 of your W-2.

Imagine my annoyance opening my W-2s from the Old Boy Network Law Firm, P.C. and found that the third copy of my W-2 wasn't mine. It was a copy of the Popcorn-Smell Hating Partner's W-2. Box 1 on his form let me know that he made a whopping $180,000.00 last year while sitting in his office on his fat Dockers-encased butt.

Naturally, I called the firm's bookkeeper and told her of the mistake. She said she'd send me a new set of W-2s. When I asked her what I should do with Dockerboy's W-2, she said to rip it up.

"I'm guessing that won't be a problem," she said kindly.

"I'm happy to do it!" I answered.

My computer took a large crap

Which is why I haven't been posting as of late. Today I'm on Mom's computer, so I will post a couple of items. Thanks for checking back!

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Well, I'll Be Damned.

I don't have a fucking "error on this page" message, so I can actually post something from the computer in my home, rather than have to create the blog in Word, send it to my email address, then post it from one of my sisters' computers.

Tonight I want to write of my 12 year-old nephew G.

G and I spent this last weekend together as his parents were in L.A. on business, and we basically did stuff we both like to do, which is eat at restaurants and watch videos. He is the coolest little kid you could imagine. I call him "My Little Zen Boy", because he is calm and insightful-- a little Buddha minus the 20% body fat.

G's taste in music is exceptional (thanks to his equally cool Dad, he of the 5,000+ CD collection) and he likes to listen to Led Zeppelin, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Beatles, and most lovely of all, one of his new favorite albums "Madman Across the Water" by Elton John, a big family favorite. He's a third-level junior blackbelt, gets good grades in school, has a large posse of friends who look up to him as leader of their pack. He's a pacifist, sensitive, thoughtful and creative, and like most boys his age, opposed to taking showers. One of his greatest gifts is that of mimicry; the child can imitate any accent, tone of voice or voice inflection. Our favorite video this weekend was "SNL Best of Will Farrell", and for the rest of the weekend, G spouted off perfect renditions of Harry Caray expressing his lust for spareribs and the catchphrase "Goulet!"

What a wonder that such a highly-evolved creature is related to me. I am truly thankful.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

My Girls

My girl Scarlet is a beautiful creature with milky skin, a staggering vocabulary and the best conversational skills of anyone I’ve ever met. She’s a bohemian, creative and funny, with a girlish little giggle. She could be anything- a doctor, a writer, a dominatrix, a shrink, a person who sells her home-grown produce at the farmer’s market. Scarlet is simply a lovely woman.

However, Scarlet doubts the course her life is taking. She is currently planning to get her doctorate in English Lit and teach at the university level. This is causing Scarlet distress because she foresees a future filled with grading badly written papers, cajoling hungover college students to appreciate Emily Dickinson, creating lesson plans and publishing or perishing. She has chosen this path primarily because she’d be really good at it, but another reason is because Scarlet feels that she is expected to do something significant with her highly superior brain power that would meet with the approval of her loved ones. Further, Scarlet is bisexual. This is viewed with suspicion by some of her “friends”, who see her sexual orientation as greedy and possibly false.

My other girl, Delaney, is struggling with a different kind of problem. She is transgendered- man to woman. Delaney was brought up in a rural, conservative community. She is the former frontman of a heavy metal band, formerly married and the father of two boys. Delaney is fighting on a day-to-day basis with others’ prejudices and fears. She is in a battle to convince the people she loves—her parents, siblings, children and old friends—that despite the fact she is in the process of becoming a woman, that she is indeed the same person she was before-- inside.

Two women with two different lives, yet they share a common problem: how can they happily become who they need to be and yet have the support and approval of those they love?

Bill Moyer recently interviewed author Jeanette Winterson on his show. Winterson was brought up in England by strict Pentecostal Christian parents and throughout her childhood attended tent revivals, prayer meetings and the like. She began to step off her parents’ path, much to their consternation and extreme disapproval. As a teenager, Winterson fell in love with a girl and they decided to move in together. Winterson was leaving her mother’s home for the last time and while walking out the door, her mother called after her:


It’s such a funny and telling statement from a woman who wanted only a “nice” life for her daughter. What mother wouldn’t want a simple, tidy life for their child, without confusion, without mess, without trouble? Alternatively, what person doesn’t want understanding and support from their friends during the travails of becoming who they are?

So there is the clash. The child who loves the parent and wants their approval, and the parent who wants an easy life for their child. The person who was once loved by friends and is now treated with suspicion and is the object of anger and resentment.

We all know people who fit into the generic, simple molds made available by our society. There are also those people who realize they don’t fit into the generic mold yet they fear retribution of some kind, so they squeeze themselves into the ill-fitting little confine (Ted Haggard). I think those that fit into the simple mold are happy—they’re really lucky. The others who contort themselves and struggle to fit inside the simple mold are conflicted at best, because I think they’re hiding stuff from themselves and from others.

Then there are those mavericks who state, “Well, I’m never going to fit into any of those molds and furthermore, I’m not interested into trying to squeeze in there.” Those are the people who step out to become themselves—white-hot, pure, unapologetic and unforgettable.

It takes thick skin to be a maverick. It also takes a little bit of “Fuck you very much”. Hardest of all, it takes “Sorry you don’t like it. I love you anyway.”

To paraphrase Mrs. Winterson: “WHY BE NORMAL WHEN YOU CAN BE HAPPY?”