And

New photos of my weekend Mount Desert Island Dream Vacation over at flickr.

Helpful Suggestions for a Stress Free Heatwave

1. Don't live on the third floor.
2. If you must live on the third floor, make sure that either
(a) the building next door is far enough away that you can get a frickin' breath of wind, or
(b) the wiring can take an air conditioner without fire danger.
3. In absence of those suggestions, keep yourself well-stocked with fans.
4. If you buy fans, buy them fully assembled.
5. If you cannot buy fans fully assembled, do not wait until it is 92 degrees in your apartment before you start assembling them.
6. If you must assemble them in an apartment roughly the temperature of the inside of your mouth, don't then have 10 children over at your house in an attempt to facilitate the continuation of your daughter's Spanish class, which found itself without a home for the week.
7. If you have said children over, do not give them sticky things to eat or drink.
8. Don't drop an overhead projector on your toe, possibly dislocating or breaking it to judge by the all-consuming pain and alarming bruising on said toe, or else you will spend the whole rest of the night in intense pain and embarrassed by your own stupidity, plus calls to the doctor's office to see if broken toes need to be treated immediately (which would require the entire family to get up and spend about six tortuous hours in the ER) all to find that your toe is fine the next morning, just a little bruised.
9. If you're living with your ex-partner, don't assume that they will understand that your crankiness about all of this is but a necessary part of life, much like picking up the clog of hair from the shower drain or cooking when your apartment is warmer than your own armpit.
10. Own a barbecue grill.
11. Encourage your friends not to be moving out of their apartments this week, because you'll have to help then.

Long Time, No...

It was a fantastic weekend. I really do love Pride.

Here's proof. If it's in print it must be true, right?

But, in my line of work, it's also a spectacularly busy time, and today is my first whole day off since the beginning of June. I can't decide whether to sleep or go to the beach or mop the floor--all sorely neglected for a while. I suspect that all three will happen at some point.

But best of all is the fact that my friend R is briefly in town from the west coast, and we're going to spend the afternoon together. R is one of my very favorite people ever-- we met when she offered to design a website for WT Chronicles several years ago (that long?!) and have been friends ever since. She's brilliant and funny and clever in that way that often makes my jaw drop with admiration and envy; I'm glad that she's returning to the northeast in the fall. That alone makes the tremendously unfair shortness of this visit bearable.

If Only They'd Drop it On Texas

In honor of Southern Maine Pride week here, it's just going to be all gay all the time here. As if I weren't anyway.

In that spirit, I found this entertaining article:

The Berkeley-based Sunshine Foundation says it's unearthed Pentagon plans to build a hormone bomb that would turn all those hit by it gay. Uncovered through a Freedom of Information Act request, the plans, dated 1994, indicated that the Air Force's Wright Laboratory in Dayton, Ohio, had asked for $7.5 million to develop the bomb. The proposal said, "One distasteful but completely non-lethal example would be strong aphrodisiacs, especially if the chemical also caused homosexual behavior."
(directly from eyeteeth)

Oh, horror.

(I secretly wish they'd just go ahead and test it, because I'm running out of dating options here.)

Post Script

The event turned out fine. Of course.

I survived. Of course.

It went really well, and I even had a good time.

But I'm sure glad it's over.

And, now, before I forget, Happy Pride!

Commence the Complaint

So I've been trying very hard not to whine. Sometimes things are easy, sometimes they're hard, and complaining about shit doesn't make it better, plus it drives away your friends.

However, at the risk of whining, I need to explain here the extraordinary concatenation of events leading up to this weekend:

There is this incredibly important event that I'm planning for work. It got fifteen hundred times more complicated about six weeks ago, and now there are two events on the same day, and I'm trying to coordinate over twenty different people representing three agencies, major donors, and a complicated internal hierarchy.

My romantic life is in a shambles (shambles, I tell you!)

I have my final packet of schoolwork due on Sunday, which has meant that I was assigned to write twenty pages of new fiction this month. (I didn't. I only wrote sixteen. But they felt like twenty coming out!)

Finances are more iffy than usual, because

I didn't get my mileage reimbursement.

My mom called.

And, because, I think, the universe hates me, I started my period ONE WEEK EARLY, which means I will be crampy and miserable during what is the most stressful day of my career so far.

If I believed in god I would say that this is some kind of a test. I've been trying to tell myself that it's an opportunity to rise to the occasion and the like, but it's not working all that much.

There. I'm done. Now I'm going to go eat some delicious soy non-dairy frozen dessert. Have good thoughts about the weather for tomorrow, OK?

Possibly the Gayest Thing Ever

Not in the rainbow-boa-and-light-up-platform-shoes kind of way that will happen during Pride next week, but in the that's-so-queer-it-makes-me-feel-funny kind of way.

Pictures of people kissing themselves (photoshopped). [via bec]

Snack

Just two tidbits for you today...

California now allows conjugal visits for gay inmates (via feministing)

and

A nice article in today's PPH about a gay couple walking in public made me all teary when I read it. Of course, that might because that same Sunday event that's referred to in the article has been occupying almost every waking moment of my life for the past six weeks.

Past & Future

Happy Sort of Birth Day to the 19th amendment, which was first proposed 88 years ago today (it wasn't ratified until a year and three months later, on August 18, 1920). Yay women voters!

I'm still mostly an anarchist at heart, I think, but I vote to hedge my bets. Which makes me either a practical anarchist or a sellout, depending on how you look at it.

****************

Also, the NY Times has a great list of what some famous writers (Foer, Eugenides, LeGuin, Eggers) are reading right now. I've never heard of any of these books that they're reading. Oh, for an unlimited book budget and some free time demanding to be filled!

With that in mind, my next post shall address the May Book Roundup. Notice I did not give a time for such a post, as all of my predictions as to when I will next return are invariably wrong.

****************

In between work insanities, the complicatedness of my home life, and some intense therapy I've been writing the seventh story in my linked collection, and it seems to be going to a very dark place (opiates and liver disease, if you must know) that makes me feel strange in the head as I write it. Likely I will someday look at this story and go, "Thank goddess I'm not there any more."

Burdock 2007

Guess where I'll be August 10-12?

save the date!!

Burdock 2007
6th Annual Gathering for a Free and Sustainable Future
August 7-14th Starks, ME

Be Prepared For:
Making Connections & Building Solidarity
Workshops, discussions, and skillshares
Childrens workshops & Activities
Campfires, swimming, music and art
Lots of fun and lots of free healthy food
Participating rain or shine!


(this is a burdock root. you can eat it!)


Potential Workshops
Do-it-yourself skillshares
Sustainable living skills & wild crafting
Biodiversity and environmental protection
Indigenous struggles
Race, gender, sex and sexuality
Capitalism and class
Political prisoners: struggles and support
Unschooling and youth empowerment
Alternative Building and more!
You're encouraged to bring a workshop to share with others. If you want to get on the workshop schedule contact us by July 24th at burdock@riseup.net.

*Barter Fair!* Saturday August 11th from 4pm till Dark
Bring crafts, medicine, food, clothing, books or anything else you want to trade.
*Open Mic (less) Night:* Friday Night August 10th
*Burdock Cabaret:* Performance & Music on Saturday Night August 11th

Get involved!
Next Meeting and Burdock Work Party weekend: July 1st, 3pm. There will be a workshop before the meeting (topic tba) and work in the gardens.

Contact us to offer a workshop, kids activity, offer rides or transportation of food and equipment (have a large van or truck to offer tranpsort???), peform at the Burdock Cabaret, or help out in any other way!


for more info & directions: burdock@riseup.net
www.burdockgathering.org
box 1582 Portland, ME 04104

National Donut Day

No more excuses! June 1 is National Donut Day, and I expect each and every one of you to chomp on some deep-fried goodness.

I recommend the molasses donuts at Tony's. Or the occasional Krispy Kreme. Best of all, the donuts that my friend Jessie's grandma used to make. Mmm.... donuts....

You can also read about donuts, and wear them if you like (on fingers, toes, on chains around your neck, whatever).

Sleeping

Sleeping, originally uploaded by jennyjeez.

This is my newest... erm, only... niece. She was two days old when this picture was taken, which was yesterday.

I tell you what, hanging out with this little pooter and her mama was a heckuva lot better than any old parade.

The Reason I've Been Absent, Sort Of

Writin'

Organizin'

Makin' Friends

More Organizin'

EDIT 5/28: Fixed the links... and apparently the Portland Dyke March website isn't up yet, but stay tuned. Should be working soon.

OK, The Marriage Issue

Today my Stonecoast professor and former mentor Leslea Newman, has an op-ed article about gay marriage in The Republican, a Massachusetts newspaper. She beautifully describes the scene on the day that gay marriage became legal in MA:

...I wouldn't have missed this historic day for anything, and it was clear from the crowd that many others felt the same. A woman walked down the line of about-to-be married couples looping plastic rainbow-colored Hawaiian leis around their necks. A man stood in the parking lot waving a banner that read, "And they lived equally ever after." The woman next to him held a sign that simply said, "It's about time." A child wearing a T-shirt imprinted with the words, "I love my two mommies" handed out bubble blowers shaped like miniature wedding cakes. Slices of an actual wedding cake donated by an anonymous baker were passed about. A musical group called the Raging Grannies sang "Here Come the Brides." Even the reporters and newscasters, those staunch upholders of professional detachment, had tears in their eyes.

To be clear, I am not really a fan of "the marriage issue." I don't like that it's taken the forefront of gay activism, because I think that there are some more pressing issues (hello, civil rights? violence and hate crimes? most of the middle states? texas?).

Marriage needs an overhaul. It's too easy to get into--for straight folks, of course--and too hard to get out of. Maybe it made sense to make a lifelong commitment when it was mostly a financial arrangement, but now that we (mostly) claim love as our reason for marrying, we should recognize that hearts can change and grow over the course of a lifetime. Plus, let's not even get into how it supports the patriarchy and capitalism.

Mostly, though, I don't like the "we're just like you" message, because the folks who say that in the publicity materials are middle-class white gay men and lesbians who want to get married "because they're in love." This message excludes some of the vibrant and diverse populations that make up our queer communities. Where are the "leather daddies for marriage" commercials? Or the "militant bi's for full equality?" I think that it is more useful for people to talk about different types of relationships and see marriage as one option among many.

Plus, we're not "just like you." We are discriminated against, ridiculed, and beaten. We have a resilient community that has put into practice some viable alternatives in reaction to the indifference of mainstream culture, like our "families of choice" when our biological families aren't accepting, or the AIDS activism of the 1980's and '90's that set the standard for everything that came after.

As a parent, I keenly understand the need to create legal responsibilities and commitments. If I had married my daughter's father, we would not be in this weird custody neverland where I can't take her out of the country, and I might have more leverage to get child support. Of course, we might also still be legally married, since I can't seem to find the guy to serve papers on him, and chances are pretty good that I couldn't afford a divorce anyway.

Instead of focusing on marriage, let's take a look at what our community really needs, and move forward from there. Let's talk about how lesbians make less money than practically everyone else, and how we can better work for transgender rights, and why so many people in our community have substance abuse issues, and why queer youth are committing suicide and running away from home, and about second-parent adoption.

Marriage is one of those things that our community needs. But it's one of many, and we shouldn't get caught up on the one just because it easily appeals the the middle-class white people who make the laws. Rather than trying to assimilate, we should be stretching the boundaries of the mainstream, and making our own space.

Back to You, Bob

And now for some news from the "Thank God They Figured THAT Out Department:"

South Portland officials last week unanimously passed an ordinance prohibiting people from having graffiti materials like broad-tipped markers or spray cans, even if they are not caught actually using them. (from mainetoday.com)

I bet the rest of the cities feel pretty stupid now that they know that the key to stopping graffiti is to ban markers and spray paint.

But what I want to know is, are they going to bust all the folks leaving Home Depot en route to home improvement projects?

Can I still buy the "marble effect" spray paint?

How about if I get a note from my mom saying that I'm really using it to paint the filing cabinet I picked up at bulky trash?

Mom's Day

So you may have gathered that I hate mom's day. I have some issues with my own mother, who has not been much of one since I was 12, and as a single mom I always feel a little bit let down because S has always been too small to do things on her own for me, so I have to pretend to be surprised opening a present I helped S buy. Etc.

But this year ended up being really great. Props to K who, despite the many complications and pitfalls of the day, ended up doing exactly the right thing.

The (annotated) day's events were as follows:

7am: I am awoken to a breakfast of egg-in-the-hole-in-the-toast, bacon, coffee, and strawberries in bed. I think that K and S waited as long as they possibly could to bring it to me (I heard them up before 6); it was still a bit early considering I'd been up finishing my thesis until 2am, but everything was still delicious. And they had picked the only tulip growing in our wasteland of a yard and placed it nicely in a vase that S made for me at school. With a home made card.

7:30am: Back to sleep.

9:00am: I wake up to my alarm and get up. More coffee. We all get ready to go out to the Winter Cache farm in Cumberland with S, K, and S's best friend J.

9:45am: More coffee at my favorite coffee shop's India Street location. Mmm... dark roast.

10:00am: Meet many friends in front of the People's Free Space, who all wish me a happy mom's day. We drive in a big caravan out to the farm.

11:00am-2:00pm: Farming, including moving a very heavy mower (my shoulders are still stiff today), touching composted goat poop with my bare hands and living through it, watering, and tidying the greenhouse. Much fun! I can't wait to eat these veggies.

2:30pm: Back in Portland, we drive around my neighborhood looking at the bulky trash waiting for pickup. I decide to pick up three drawers to use as containers for some flowers and veggies I want to grow in our desolate wasteland of a yard. There are leftovers in the fridge, so nobody has to cook lunch.

3:30pm: We drop S's friend off at his house, and since it's near the water, we go down to the beach to shovel up some gravel for drainage in the containers. There is a TON of sea glass from the Patriot's Day hurricane thing. We all fill our pockets with it, and get the gravel.

4:00 pm: I cook rice and beans for dinner, and two of our good friends come over to share it. We talk and hang out until...

9:00pm: I collapse into bed, sunburned, exhausted, and very happy. I got many well-wishes and hugs and text messages and phone messages, and got treated like royalty all day. It was the nicest one I've ever had.

Mother's Day News Postponed...

... to allow you to check out this hot restaurant review at www.thebollard.com (It's the article titled "A Star is Born" halfway down the page).

That's right. Superstar.

For Moments Like This

As a third semester student at Stonecoast, I am required to spend this semester working on a critical project. Most people write papers--research papers or English Lit-type papers that focus on one or two aspects of a writer's work, or a branch of critical theory, etc--some people do projects and then write papers.

I opted for a research paper about writing groups in prisons and shelters, because I'm interested, and because I would like to do some of that--for money--after I graduate, and the research may come in handy for things like grant-writing and convincing administrators that the work needs to happen. I think having an MFA is suddenly justification for me to demand to get paid for doing the things I love to do.

Anyway, it's been a trying semester because it's not my favorite kind of writing. I did manage to slide in some creative bits by interspersing the research/expository sections with personal narrative about my own experiences facilitating a writing group in a shelter.

But the best news is, I just sent in my final draft to my mentor (the very talented and patient-with-my-delays Alan Davis), which means that I get to spend this last semester working on fiction. As long as he agrees that it's actually a final draft.

I just sent K down to the store for a bottle of ginger ale** to celebrate, and I may smoke a cigarette. It's hot times in the old town tonight, folks.

If you want to read it, drop me a note and I'll send it out like the fucking flowers are sending out millions of tiny pieces of pollen to irritate my entire face (that is, with fervor and profligacy). I'll put my email address in the comments section***.

More on Mother's Day tomorrow.


**for reasons of poverty, not any kind of abstinent behavior. Don't worry, Stonecoasters, I'll be singing in the streets of Brunswick post-Joshua's soon enough.

***I think that has something to do with avoiding spam, but really I'm just copying other people who do it because it seems like a good idea.

The Scoop

I heard a pretty reliable rumor that there will be a *free* Darien Brahms/Erin McKeown show in Monument Square on July 26.

Sweet. And how many lovely ladies will be attending? All of them, I'm guessing.

Bad Dialogue

FRIEND: But I don't understand. Why do you hate Mother's Day so much?

WOMAN: I cant.... [sob] I just can't. [turns away] You'd never understand.

FRIEND: I understand that I want to help you. Why can't you just trust me a little? Tell me. [puts hands on MOTHER's shoulders] You can tell me.

WOMAN: [shakes off FRIEND's hands] How could you know? You and your... your perfect spouse. You have everything. [turns to face FRIEND, closeup of her tear-stained face] And I-- I have nothing.

FRIEND: I don't understand.

WOMAN: Don't you see? Mother's day is not a day of joy for people like me. I'll say it--for single mothers like me. All year long we have to be mother and father, and then on the one day of the year that is for us, we... we... [sobs]

FRIEND: There, there.

WOMAN: I'm sorry, I got some snot on your shoulder.

FRIEND: That's gross.

WOMAN: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. [wipes at eyes] I guess what I'm trying to say is that the only way I'll ever get brunch on that day is if I make the reservations myself and put it on my own credit card. And you don't know the pain... the mind-wrenching pain... [shakes fist at sky] of trying to pick out a bouquet to surprise myself.

FRIEND: This snot looks like a snail trail.

WOMAN: I'd rather smoke cigarettes and drink bourbon while my kids watch disney channel all day. At least that way we'd both be happy instead of trying to live up to some overrated standard for a holiday that can only be celebrated by a nu--- nuclear family [sobs again].

FRIEND: So what are you saying?

WOMAN: I'm saying, where's the guy in that coffee commercial who gets up early to help the kids make me breakfast in bed? Where's my tasty fresh omelette?

FRIEND: I have no idea what you mean.

WOMAN: I wish the hallmark people would just die. And the coffee people too.

FRIEND: Whoah. That's a little harsh, don't you think?

WOMAN: I guess. I mean, we're all just victims of the capitalist heterosexist patriarchy anyway, right? [blows nose, wipes eyes, sighs] Got a light?

FRIEND: Here.

WOMAN: Thanks.