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Parker's Pad
Here's where I start my own thread to toss out anything from stories to blog entries to spoken word pieces to thoughts that roll around in my head and maybe even a video or two. :winky:
--- I think I'll start off with something I love - I wrote it a couple of years ago when I was working on the Vet Art Project Seattle, which was a project for Vets to get together with artists who would help them with spoken word, music, dance, etc to explore their feelings about war, the military etc. We performed our pieces in March 2010 and originally, I met with the organizer to stage manage the production, but as we talked through lunch, she decided I had too much to say not to perform. After a lot of agonizing over standing up in front of actual people and performing something, she convinced me. Coincidentally (well, not really, I dont believe in coincidence), I had just written a rant in my private blog a day or so before she called me and when she and I had lunch, I spoke about it. She liked it, so I developed it a little and it became a spoken word piece. What follows is a video a friend took of my performance of the piece, as well as the text - hopefully, sharing this will give me the kick in the ass that I need to do some more writing. :winky: --- Patriotism Written & Performed by Parker Wolf March 2010 I, Parker Wolf, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. When I first took that oath in January 1992, I was a few months shy of 21 years old and not thinking about god and country; I was thinking about college and the GI Bill. Then later, as I spent more time in the Navy, training the men who would be shipped off to parts unknown, it became about the women and men around me. I was an airman in the United States Navy and my first duty station was called a "rag squadron." It was comprised of about 98% women who trained men from other squadrons as they prepared to be deployed on aircraft carriers. At that time, women were not stationed on ships, save for hospital ships, and the feminist in me was outraged at the idea that women were not allowed on certain ships and careers in the Navy, that a woman's physical testing was easier than a man's, that women were treated differently. Later, as I looked back on that time and compared it to today, I started to realize that in certain situations, one human life is more valuable than another. There was a time, when it came to combat in the military, that a woman's life was placed above that of a man's. It was always men that the US would send off to war; men who would come back shattered physically and emotionally or in body bags; men who were drafted. Similarly, when it comes to the death of a human being, a soldier's death is placed above that of a civilian. Hell, we even have parades and motorcades for fallen soldiers. A soldier from my hometown died in a roadside bomb a while back. The town had a parade for him; a 7 minute motorcade complete with police cars, fire trucks, ambulances, and dozens of motorcycles both leading and following his casket, family, and friends. But where is the parade for the single mother of 3 who worked 2 jobs just to survive and put her kids through the best schools she could possibly afford, only to die of cancer from the factory that housed one of the many jobs she held over the years? Where is the parade for the parents who were killed in a car accident by a drunk driver while taking their kids to Disneyland? Where is the parade for the convenience store clerk shot to death by a mentally unstable man who was turned down for treatment - during a robbery of the store the clerk didn’t own; and at which he only made minimum wage? When watching the videos on YouTube and seeing all of the tributes for that fallen soldier from my hometown, I asked myself: why is a soldier's death more important than an ordinary citizen's death? The answer that we invariably get from those who consider themselves "patriots" around the country is that this soldier and thousands like him died for our freedom; that "freedom isn’t free" and he paid the ultimate price so I could stand before you now and denounce the war. To those "patriots," I say bullshit! Our freedom isn’t at stake here, our wallets are! A country has not occupied the US, causing us to fight for our freedom and our very lives, these are countries that have resources that we want; and countries that we feel should be just like us, damn their own belief systems and traditions! So we invade and we occupy these countries and we are then surprised and dismayed when our soldiers die from their resistance of our occupation. Why? For money. Our soldiers are dying for money. And instead of calling the President out and reminding him that he promised this shit would stop, we celebrate their deaths with motorcades and parades. Because, and let's be honest here, to some, to denounce this occupation publicly means we are traitors .. that we are NOT patriots. But unless you took that oath, unless you signed on that dotted line, unless you promised with all that you are that you would support and defend the Constitution of the United States, don’t speak to me about patriotism - and frankly, kiss my ass! Now that I am older and have seen more than I needed to, I think back on that oath - an oath that I took twice - and I consider it a lifetime oath. So I will support the Constitution of the United States - against ALL enemies, foreign AND domestic. I will protect it from the bigots who believe only certain people should have rights while others are left behind and treated as second-class citizens. I will stand up and support it against members of our government who would change it as they see fit. I will not stand by and watch anyone in a position of authority abuse that authority while ignoring the rights of the individual. I will exercise my rights to speak against an occupation that we know is wrong, but cannot seem to get past our own fears and egos to end. Because if these women and men are so goddamned important to us that their deaths deserve a parade, then why aren't they important enough to us to BRING THEM THE FUCK HOME?? Now, THAT'S a parade I would attend! |
that is a parade i would attend as well.
You were brave to have gone in the military, brave to have endured and seen all you have. I really enjoyed your first post. |
Thank you :)
Let the kick in the ass to write more commence lol :winky: |
yep..it just takes once lol
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Back in 1994, I was a baby dyke in the Navy, stationed in San Diego but dating a woman who was stationed up in Point Magu near Oxnard, CA. One weekend, I went up to visit her and she introduced me to a friend of hers - a man by the name of Shane who was a Wiccan, raised by a mother who was also Wiccan. He was an incredibly tranquil man, soft spoken and so nice - he liked to sit outside and just "be" and because he knew I had an affinity for trees and forests, he encouraged me to sit with my back against a tree to commune with its energy. So I sat on the ground with my back pressed up against a very large tree while the win gently blew all around me and, aside for the occasional bird chirping or animal rustling in a bush, everything was quiet. I was suddenly inspired to write the following. I Cannot Hold Her Her kiss Is so sweet So soft So pure Yet I cannot hold her I hear her Calling to me late at night Past the moon and the stars I hear her Whispering to me softly Through the trees on a warm spring day Yet I cannot hold her She is as gentle as a babbling brook And as rough as the raging seas She is as warm as I need her to be And as cold as she wants to be Yet I cannot hold her I can hear my love I can feel my love Yet I cannot hold her For my love is the wind And I must let her go |
Wanna go for a ride? :sunglass:
I went for a ride on my motorcycle in north Seattle this past spring and decided to put on my helmet cam to show my POV when riding. This is one of my favorite spots when riding because of all the trees, the little brook by the side of the road, etc - nice and relaxing. I meant to use this same cam during Pride when riding with the Dykes on Bikes but I forgot my memory card! :seconddoh: This year I'll remember to put the damn card in the cam so I can take a video of this rider's POV during the DoB ride. :winky: |
Parker, thanks for sharing this!! What a great idea. N. Seattle is beautiful. Am excited to do the Cascade loop and highway 2. Give me a shout sometime...would love to head out on a group ride.
Scoobs |
That would be awesome Scoobs :)
I have a friend down in Richland who went with her hubby to Sturgis a few years ago - bought herself a trike. She came up once to be a "dyke for a day" and ride with us during Pride - she would probably love to join a group ride. :bandana: |
The first things that draw my attention to a woman arent what one might think. It's not the sexy outfit, the perfect hair, the legs that go for miles, or even the tits and ass. It's the little things. The parts of a woman that some take for granted and most never see ........ It always starts with the mouth. The kind of mouth you can stare at for hours While she tells you about her day, Or a story from her life experience. The kind of mouth that draws you in. Then it moves on to the eyes. The kind of eyes you can get lost in. Deep pools of any color Encompassing the soul behind them. The kind of eyes that see right through All of your bullshit. Finally, it's on to the hands. The kind of hands that show her strength Of character. Feminine and strong, with nails that are painted Or left untouched. The kind of hands that tell her life's story. |
Before DADT was repealed, I was thinking of working on a spoken word piece about it. A few minutes ago, I decided to put those thoughts down on paper. Don’t ask don’t tell March 7, 2012 Don’t ask me who I am And I wont show you the real me Ask me to volunteer To stand beside my sisters and brothers In battle To watch them die To carry them home In a box Ask me to defend your right To take away my rights To bash me To oppress me To vote against me To keep me from the ones that I love Ask me to protect and defend The Constitution Of the United States While you change it To make sure I am no longer represented By it But don’t ask me who I am Beneath this uniform Pinned to these medals If you don’t ask I won't tell. |
A friend of a friend passed away today ....
Life's crazy - one minute you're playing racquetball and the next, you're lying dead on the court from a massive coronary. He was a good man, always had a kind word for and to me, and he will be missed by me and the rest of his community here in Seattle. RIP Charles. :candle: |
Sometimes when I am watching TV and I see how agile people are with the running, jumping, playing ball, hiking, and hell, even just squatting and getting back up - all so easily and without pain - I find myself envying them.
I used to be that active - playing softball, women's contact football, volleyball, going hiking, canoeing, climbing up and down helicopters in the Navy, going for long walks (I used to walk for hours) or even a run .... I miss it. I miss being able to move without pain. I miss being able to kneel, squat, or even sit on the floor and be able to get back up without any effort whatsoever. I miss playing ball -- softball season is here and I wish more than anything that I could join a team and play. I would also really love to be able to try out for the women's contact football team here - I couldnt believe how much fun that was back in the day. But mostly, I would love to be able to just go for a hike in the woods somewhere ... walking on a blanket of leaves and pine needles, under a canopy of trees ... damn, I miss that. |
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when i first started having severe pain in my neck and arm later to learn it was nerve damage, my ability to play pool was taken away...i was angry i was angry that it hurt to do what i loved to do..so i took my time and i played anyway i played through the pain of it all even sometimes suffering major migraines just to play..in 6 years it has taken me from being able to only play a few shots to several games ina row.. in essence... baby steps if you can. i know the difficulties in what it takes ot push past the pain however it can be done one step at a time. |
Name Change
I always hated my name when I was growing up: Deborah.
There isnt anything wrong with the name itself, it just always felt wrong on me somehow - like it belonged to someone else and I as just borrowing it or something. Debbie. Little Debbie. Debbie Does Dallas. God, how I hated being called Debbie. Even when I got older and I would introduce myself as Deborah, people would look right at me, shake my hand, and say, "nice to meet you, Debbie." Ugh. Later still, as I became more comfortable in my butch skin and I realized it was ok to be masculine and woman at the same time, the name became almost unbearable. Picture this masculine butch woman sitting in a waiting room waiting to be called in to see a doctor or for an interview and someone comes out with a clip board. They read off my name, "Deborah" and then stand there, waiting. I stand up and walk toward them and get to watch them as they continually look down at their clip board and then back up at me - clearly not making the connection that (a) I am not a man and (b) my name is, in fact, Deborah. It especially sucked when it was for a job interview because I had a great resume and a female name, but I was a butch dyke and we can always tell what other people are thinking when they get "that look" as they look us up and down - they either arent fast or good enough at hiding said "look." This wasnt why I changed my name, of course, just an illustration of part of why I disliked the name so much. It took me years to decide it was "ok" to change my name even though I wasnt and never wanted to transition into a man - for a long time, in my mind, I felt like it just wasnt allowed; that you are given this name when you are born and you are stuck with it for life. Eventually, in my mid-30s, I talked myself into it and decided it was ok - I was giving myself permission .... but then I had to decide on a name because, kinda like a tattoo, this name would be permanent, so I'd better dan well like it! I wanted something more gender neutral - something either women or men could use and I had always liked the name Parker - it just felt right. Then when I found out its meaning (park keeper), it felt even more "right" because I have always had an affinity for trees. Great - so I had a first name ... but should I then change my last name? The answer came from deep inside with a decision I made a long time ago when I thought I was straight and that I would marry a man when I grew up: that I would not take my husband's name because that felt like ownership to me. Then it hit me: I already had a man's name - my father's last name. So should I take my mom's maiden name? Crap - that's a man's name as well, her father's. It seemed that no matter which way I turned to look at the names in my family tree, they were all names which belonged to men - so I decided to pick my own last name. Along with trees, I have always had an affinity for wolves as well - this is very hard to explain, but since most people have an affinity for one animal or another, I probably dont have to try. I struggled for a short time with using that name - I didnt want anyone to think I was trying to appropriate anything/one/culture - but I really loved how the two names came together and just sort of rolled off of the tongue ... after standing in front of a mirror and saying both names together, it sounded right - I had a name that "fit." The actual changing was easy - about $100, a filled out form, and a couple of hours in the local courthouse and I was "official." Interestingly, people seem to like the name - some people love it so much, they say my full name every time they see me. People from my past had a hard time of it at first - especially my mom because it hurt her feelings to have one of her children change the name she gave them - but after a while, they see how good of a fit it is. I do have a few problems now and then because Parker is a very popular surname so a lot of people think my name is Wolf Parker. Also, even though the name Parker can and is used for both women and men, I think adding the name Wolf on the end may have added a masculinizing (did I just make that word up?) effect for some people because when dealing with written correspondence, I get "Mr." about 40% of the time But all-in-all, I think I made a good decision - and the right one for me. When I talk to people who have only known me with this name and tell them what my name used to be, they look at me funny and say, "that doesnt sound like you" or "that just doesnt fit you" and I have to laugh to myself because it took me so damn long to figure that out. |
This, unfortunately, could be my last season on a motorcycle. :(
I just dont have the strength to deal with it anymore (it's a 2001 Suzuki Marauder 800 and about 450lbs) - I cant hold it up without straddling it or without the kickstand down - forget about picking it up if I drop it - and it is even getting harder and harder to roll it in and out of its shed. So, I decided to sell it right after Pride - one more Dykes on Bikes run and then I will part with her. :( Someone suggested getting a smaller bike - maybe a 450-600cc - he is a older man who is small in stature and he said he couldnt give up riding, so he just gave up riding the bigger bikes. I figure if I want to keep riding, it will probably either be that or a trike - and I cant afford a trike! lol We'll see ..... |
I dont know why it shocks me so much to see people openly wish violence or harm onto people with whom they disagree, but it shocks me every time.
I dont want to align myself with any person or organization who does, condones, or thinks this behavior is ok - I would rather spend my energy on positive things, people, and organizations. I've seen this behavior across the board, from all walks of life, from Conservatives to Liberals, from LGBT to anti-LGBT, from pro-choice to pro-life, and everything in between. Most recently, I saw a post on my FB from a rescue I work with talking about a dog who broke her leg when she fell out of a truck. She recently had puppies and while the owners wanted to keep the puppies, the took the dog with the broken leg to the vet to be euthanized. The rescue I work with was looking for a foster home so they could work on getting the dog transported up here (WA) from CA. Almost immediately, the comments went to a violent place with people making threats against the owners and wishing violence and horrible things upon these people. Now, of course I disagree vehemently with euthanizing a dog just for a broken leg and I think the owners are idiots for (a) having their dog in such a position that she could fall out of a truck like that and (b) for wanting to euthanize a dog with something that can be fixed; but we know nothing about these people, their money situation, or how they came to the conclusion to euthanize the dog. One would think that maybe instead of threatening these people, wishing harm upon them, or even committing violence against them, we would educate them and others on how to best handle a situation such as that. I am pretty poor and if something catastrophic happened to one of my dogs, it would be very very difficult for me to afford a vet bill and I would do everything in my power to make sure my dogs got the care that they needed; but in the mean time, I do my best to keep them out of harm's way so that the possibility of their getting injured like that is lower. But again ... to wish violence on someone just because they dont know what else to do? Get angry with them, make a passionate plea to them, maybe even help them financially if you can, and above all, educate them; but violence? What kind of world is this where our first instinct is to wish harm on those with whom we disagree? |
My Formosan Mountain Dog, Jack has started freaking out in the back yard on the sunnier, warmer days - he runs around in circles around this pile of dirt and rocks the handyman left behind when it started raining again - he also tries to get the other dogs to run with him &/or chase him (Zeke is the red dog, Harley is the tan one), and he barks and smiles like a mad dog.
He didnt do it for very long yesterday, but I was outside when he did it so I was able to catch him on camera - even on a day like today when I am feeling a little melancholy, that boy can still make my heart smile ..... |
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Unfortunately, he will not be that adorable when you and Bear meet him - most likely, he will fear-poop and run away.
It will probably only be funny to me. lol Just remember, the trick to getting him to come to you is to call Zeke over - where ever Zeke goes, Jack will surely follow. |
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My friend Lori has a female pit that she claimed the pit wouldn't let anyone near her, posh that girl was rubbing up on me and laid at my feet within ten minutes of meeting her...Lori said "I don't know how you do that". |
Hopefully, it will be that way here - Zeke likes everyone so he wont be a problem - Harley is an old, cranky, protective bitch, so when you first meet her, she will have on her muzzle, just to be safe - but once you two have met and she sees you're ok, she will be a-ok for the rest of your visit.
But I fully expect my Taiwan boys to run away and try to hide; poor babies may have been with me for almost 2 years but before that, they were in hell and are still leery of humans. Max is better with people than other dogs, but I am hoping he finds a friend in Bear because they can be small together in this house of crazy. :winky: https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net...25798189_n.jpg (from left: Zeke, Max, Jack, and Harley) |
I think they will be ok here is a couple of pics with Bear and her best friend who is a great pyranese
this cracks me up every time http://i35.photobucket.com/albums/d1...n/d2325b28.jpg http://i35.photobucket.com/albums/d1...n/9cadc4b3.jpg my friend was checking my breaks which yay they didn't need changed |
Oh, they will be ok - they just may run and hide when you first get here!
Go 'head Bear - hump that dog! :blink: I need to get my brakes checked - either my brakes AND shocks need to be replaced or my brakes are acting funny because my shocks are so bad ... either way, I have zero$ for either, so I guess it's moot! :winky: |
6 years ago today, I hit Seattle, sight unseen, after taking my last final at ISU (I skipped my graduation) and driving with my (then) 2 dogs across the country for 3 days. I had never been to Seattle, I just picked it out of all the places I could live that had a good sized theatre community, packed up my stuff, and went for it.
Took me about a week to line up an apartment and another week to find a "regular" job and to get gigs in a couple of theatres, namely, Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center and Freehold. :) I remember when I found that apartment, I couldnt move in until the 1st of June and I couldnt afford to keep living in the crack house they called a hotel so I put an ad in Craigslist and a lesbian couple just south of Seattle answered my ad. They had a house with an extra room upstairs - they also had 2 dogs, a few cats, and a fenced in backyard so I could bring my 2 babies. Their only stipulation was that I do some manual labor in the yard to earn my keep - they found a buried pond in their front yard and wanted me to dig it out. :winky: This is actually the longest I've lived in one area since I was a kid living at home. lol |
A story ....
Feeding my Taiwan puppy, Jack in the morning is easy because I went back to feeding him the refrigerated food roll once a day since he refused to eat the crunchy food twice a day - some days, he wouldnt eat at all, so I had no choice because he is a skinny little puppy. Anyway, now he eats his morning meal with his doggie prozac and he gobbles it down in a couple minutes - but in the evening, when I put out the crunchy food, it is on. lol Sometimes, he needs me to be in the room with him, sometimes he needs me to be away from the room, sometimes he needs it quiet in the house, sometimes not - the night before last, he sat in here for a couple of hours, refusing to eat until finally it was time for bed and I put the food away - and when I came in here, he was shaking so uncontrollably, it was pathetic. Last night, he laid down on the floor for over an hour - I called out to him from the living room to put that food in his belly and a few minutes later, he got up and started eating it. This boy, I swear. He reminds me of me when I was a kid and my mom served us cooked beets for dinner. I hated beets (I think I was the only one though - everyone else loved them) and refused to eat them - she and dad said I would sit there until I ate the beets. Well, I ate everything off of my plate except the beets, I just left them there and sat there with them on the plate in front of me. mom, dad, Julie, and Bill all finished their dinner - Julie and Bill were excused from the table and they went with dad into the living room to watch TV. Still, I sat there with those beets on my otherwise empty plate while my mom cleared the table and did the dishes. She finished the dishes, wiped down the table around me, put the runner and centerpiece back on the table, turned off the lights and went into the living room, leaving me sitting there in the dark with my plate of beets. Eventually - and I have no idea how long this was but in my memory and to my child's mind, it felt like hours went by - mom and dad sent me to bed as the plate of beets still sat there on the table. What a frustratingly stubborn kid I was - I cant imagine having to deal with me as a parent, lol - but dealing with this picky, stubborn, anxious puppy at least gives me a hint. ;o) |
I went out this morning to find a small hard back book out of which I could make a "book safe" because the last time I made one, I used a paperback book and used too much glue so it was obvious what it was before you even picked it up from the shelf. lol
But I digress; while I was wandering back and forth, looking for something that I could use and that wouldnt look out of place on my shelf, something caught my eye. It was hard back and the front/back covers were tied together over the bound pages. It was brown with a leaf pattern on it and the title "Leaves of Gold," which is "an anthology of prayers, memorable phrases, inspirational verse, and prose" from circa 1938 - this is the 1948 revised edition. I bought it and at first, I didnt know what to do with it, but now as I am typing, it occurs to me that I might could send it to my nephew/godson and his fiance as a wedding gift -- it feels like a good gift to come from an Aunt/Godmother when you get married, yes? This picture is of the cover and then I opened the book to a random page to show the inside. :) https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net...78759584_n.jpg |
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I thought so - it really called out to me from the shelf and once I held it in my hands, I knew I wouldnt be leaving without it.
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Heard a knock on my door - opened the peep-door and saw my next door neighbor standing out there with her arm in a sling. Turns out she was motorcycle riding with some friends the other day, doing almost 60mph in a 35mph zone as she tried to catch up to them. She hit some gravel on a curve and broke, which stood the bike up - she lost control, her bike hit head-on into a pole and she went flying through the air, landing on her left side and breaking her collarbone. She was wearing a full-face helmet and denim so other than the collar bone, there was minimal damage to her body but the bike was totaled. She is not sure she wants to get another motorcycle. Needless to say, she will not be riding in Pride. :( It is sometimes scary to think about, but so many bike accidents that I hear or read about - or watch on youtube lol - are due to loss of control because of speed and power. My neighbor admitted that her bike is really powerful and it was so easy to speed and not realize how fast she was going at times. I know that we are supposed to go just a bit faster than all of the cars around us so that we are more visible, but I am more of a "Sunday driver" - I am out there to cruise along and enjoy the experience of what I imagine is the closest I will ever come to flying. I give the people around me a wide berth and keep my head on a swivel - which, once you've been surrounded by helicopters and jets, is kinda second nature. lol I feel bad for her - she is pretty shell-shocked. I remember when I was a 21yo baby dyke on my first bike and I was riding, lost, in San Diego in the middle of the night right after it rained. I saw a car out of the corner of my eye braking and when I looked up, I saw a yellow light. Instead of just running the yellow light, I panicked, hit my front brakes, and my bike and I were one with the pavement for about half a block, sliding into home plate in the middle of an intersection. I remember getting up after that, getting back on my bike, and driving for a few blocks before pulling over so I could stop shaking. I can understand her feeling of not wanting another bike but I kinda hope she is able to overcome that and get another one some day. My friend Michele might be coming here for Pride from SE Washington - she rides a trike, so I am going to ask her if my neighbor could ride with her. If they both agree, at least my neighbor can have the feeling of riding with the Dykes on Bikes and maybe that will help her decide if she wants to ride again .... |
I didnt even have to ask my friend Michele if my neighbor could ride with her on her trike - as soon as she saw the pic and heard the story, she offered.
Michele likes to play "dyke for a day" and come ride with the Dykes on Bikes in her trike - she did it the first time in 2010, which was my first time as well. She said she did it because she knew I wouldnt do it unless I went with someone, but she had such a damn blast - everyone stopped to oogle her trike and she loved riding in the parade so much she also rode in the Tri-Cities (eastern WA) parade with a gay youth. She volunteers with LGBT youth and had some sort of contest or drawing or something to give a kid a chance to ride with her in the parade and the kid in the below pic is the one who won. :winky: She wasnt able to ride with me last year because she is a diabetic who has been battling some pretty serious infections in her feet and keeps having to have surgeries, toe amputations, etc - always with the wearing of those big giant boot things and last summer was surgery time so this Pride should be fun because she will be able to ride with us again! :) Anyway, not sure if my neighbor will say yes, but I really hope she does - I really think riding in this trike will help her deal with her fears over what happened to her. While I love Michele's little trike, if I was going to get one (which I really kinda want one now), I wouldnt get one like hers. Number 1, it is more like a tiny convertible car on 3 wheels with its car steering wheel, car pedals, trunk, and body; and number 2, it cost like $32k - wtf! No, if I get one, it will be the kind that looks like a motorcycle in the front and just happen to have 2 wheels (training wheel, lol) in the back. :winky: https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net...5_538903_n.jpg |
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What she doesnt understand - and I am not sure she ever will because we are so different in this respect - is that I love the hell out of that story and tell it with a smile. Anyone who knows me can picture my stubborn ass sitting there in the dark with those damn beets instead of just giving in and doing what mom wanted by swallowing them down so I could leave the table! She probably thinks it's a bad story and that it makes me dislike her or think she was a bad parent or that my childhood was omg-ruined or something - whereas I think it is such a great story that perfectly expresses how frustrating it must have been to be my parent ... or boss ... or commanding officer ... or ... lol. Poor mom - I should send her an e-book (she loves her Kindle!) or something. |
An old friend messaged me on FB telling me she and her wife might be coming to Pride this year and she asked me what all was happening that weekend.
It was so weird talking to her because we knew each other 20 years ago when I was a baby dyke in the Navy stationed in San Diego (or San Dog) and holy hell, did I have it bad for her! lol I had *just* come out, hadnt even dated any women, and spent most of my time either on the flight deck at my squadron or hanging in the local lesbo bar where I worked as a barback. I met her through a friend - they were also in the Navy - and I was hooked from the first hello. She was a bit older and so confident - cocky, really - and in fact that was what stopped me from having her be my first .... she literally counted how many virgins she had had and while to some that might be a turn on, I didnt want to be another number - another notch on the headboard, so to speak. So we just became really good friends. I remember once, she was stationed in Korea and I would send her tapes of me chatting with her instead of letters - I even mailed off a tape recorder with the first tape so she could listen to them all. She was still there over Christmas so I sent her 2 things: one was a really small Christmas tree with tiny little ball ornaments and garland; and the other was her favorite beer - Corona - each wrapped individually in bubble wrap and then put into a box. She said when she got the beer it was still cold and none of them had had anything like that for months so she and her friends sat by the fire and each had a beer - it was the best beer they ever had. Anyway, I digress ..... I think about that baby dyke and how silly she was, how little confidence she had, how scared she was of the world in general and when I chatted with J the other day, it felt like we had switched places. She is physically disabled like me and also like me, she has gained weight (we are both carrying around a Back Street Boy - and they arent as light as they look!) ... but over the years, it seems that she has lost a lot of her confidence and while I dont consider myself cocky, I am confident in who I am and I am content with my life. It's like we're two different people than those women from 20 years ago ... I look back and it feels like, literally, another lifetime and I have no idea who those people are! |
This is very moving. I love the combination of such vivid memories (the cold beer) and thinking how things have changed. I am enjoying your prose very much. (f)
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Pride
Pride was so much fun this year. My friend, Michele missed it last year and she decided that come hell or high water, she was making the drive in her trike up from SE Washington to ride in the parade with me. She isnt gay, she's an ally, but no one seems to care if you are woman, man, gay, straight, or bi when it comes to riding with the Dykes on Bikes - if you have a bike and love Gay Pride, come on and ride with us. lol
Since it rained pretty hard on Friday, Michele drove up on Saturday, but it rained even harder on her drive up - she said there was rain, high winds, and some hail - and at one point, she had to pull over! She also had some bike issues - her heater went out, her gear shift didnt want to work, and eventually, when she was in Seattle, her trike overheated to the point that I had to bring her some water - even though she had no clue where she was ... that was an adventure. :winky: Her husband was worried that he hadnt heard from her since her road trouble, so he called and when she told him she overheated and her radiator was tapped out, he was concerned enough to make the 4hr trip out here to look at and fix her bike. Turned out, it was a blown fuse that just needed replacing. He spent the night and left Sunday morning. So with Michele's trike in running order, all that was left was the weather - and just like last year, the Seattle skies decided that instead of opening up and pouring rain on all of us, it would instead push the clouds aside and let the sun peek through for a few hours. :) We got there early enough to talk to a few people, wipe our bikes down, chill out before the start of the parade, etc. At one point, this woman (she is right behind me in the first pic below) walked up to me and asked me how long I'd been doing this. I told her 3yrs and she then asked what color my bike was ..... um, blue. She told me I was supposed to say something like cobalt blue, so I told her it was cobalt blue; and when she asked me my bike's name, I told her "for sale." :winky: The DOB ride was wonderful - I knew it very well could be my last, so I rode slowly while all the crotch rockets zoomed on by and lapped me a few times lol. I gave high-fives to the crowd and found my friend Alan so I could toss him my Pride necklace again this year - and he took a couple of good pics of me. :) Towards the end of the ride, I kept seeing this woman - a tall butch with salt-n-pepper hair who was so excited to see us all. So when I lapped around for the 2nd to last time (I snuck in one more circle before going off to park), I grabbed my other Pride necklace, pointed to her as I drove towards her and tossed her the "beads" - she was so happy and it was so freaking awesome. :) After the ride, we watched part of the parade and then left to go get a couple of Jimmy John's subs since she had never had one (they are SO much better than Subway, seriously). Then we went back to my house and took naps bc we are old and that evening, we went to a restaurant that we both thought might be interesting - the Celtic Bayou - which serves both Cajun and Irish cuisine. It was good. :) The coolest thing is that I not only remembered my helmet cam this year - as well as the batteries and memory card to go with it (I forgot the card last year lol) - I was able to set it to record while it was strapped onto my headlight, so it caught the whole Dykes on Bikes ride from the rider's POV - save for the last 30 seconds or so when we all pulled around the corner and parked near the festival entrance. :) Below are a couple of pics of me, a couple of Michele in her trike, and the whole 45 minute video of my ride - but feel free to skip the first 3 minutes because we are all just sitting there, honking our horns and revving our engines as we wait to get started during that time. :winky: Oh - I try to look a little different each year - 2 years ago, I wore a fedora type hat, last year was my ball cap (CUBS!) and this year was my ball cap backwards. I am also wearing a shirt Michele got for me at Portland Pride last weekend (she took some LGBT youth from her area) - it says Veterans for Human Rights (VfHR.org). https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net...61235428_n.jpg https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net...50201844_n.jpg https://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos...06484205_n.jpg https://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos...98885132_n.jpg |
I cant believe I almost forgot today was the 43rd anniversary of the Stonewall Riots. I knew there was something about today .....
Every year, I re-read info and accounts about the riots to remember the women and men who stood up to the police that night - and then came back a year later for the first ever Gay Pride March. I posted this to my FB today: https://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos...58817484_n.jpg 43 years ago today - June 28, 1969 at 1:20 in the morning - the Stonewall riots occurred - when gay women and men decided enough was enough and fought back against police harassment & raids that always ended in violence. On this night, they stood up and said, "no more!" It started when one butch dyke, while being beaten, asked the crowd, "Why dont you guys do something?" "A scuffle broke out when a woman in handcuffs was escorted from the door of the bar to the waiting police wagon several times. She escaped repeatedly and fought with four of the police, swearing and shouting, for about ten minutes. Described as "a typical New York butch" and "a dyke—stone butch", she had been hit on the head by an officer with a billy club for, as one witness claimed, complaining that her handcuffs were too tight. Bystanders recalled that the woman, whose identity remains unknown, sparked the crowd to fight when she looked at bystanders and shouted, "Why don't you guys do something?" After an officer picked her up and heaved her into the back of the wagon, the crowd became a mob and went "berserk": "It was at that moment that the scene became explosive"." 43 years ago today, a movement started ..... |
I have really great dogs. For the most part, they are very well behaved and follow my verbal and non-verbal commands without fuss, save for the occasional stubbornness of my 15yo girl, Harley who is a dominant old bitch and the stubbornness/confusion of my little old man, Max who lived on the street for so long, some of this is hard for him to grasp. But I rarely have a problem with the puppy or my big boy not listening to me.
If I say "bedroom," they head straight for the bedroom; if I say "outside," they head outside; if I tell the boys to get their toys or if I am outside and I simply point at a toy, they grab their toys, one by one, and bring them inside. They sit, they lay, they eat nice, they are not food or toy aggressive. They sit before eating or before being let out of confinement without my saying a word - even a friend who dog sat while I was gone for a week noticed that; she didnt have to say a thing, they just sat and waited for her. I dont train them to do tricks though - I used to think that was cool and I still think it is fun to watch a dog doing tricks, but these are my companions, not my circus animals, so the commands they follow are just to keep them from being all rowdy and stuff. :winky: So I've been watching this dog training show on CBS called Dogs in the City and when I watch it and see the problems with these other dogs, I realize what a great pack I have - and the only thing I would change is how they flip the fuck out when someone knocks on the door &/or comes inside: The old girl and the puppy both bark bloody murder; my big Boxer/Pit, all 80lbs of him, tries to jump on people to give them kisses; and my little old man, Max, runs into the back yard and barks at the people in the house, endlessly. Unfortunately, whenever I watched Cesar, I never learned anything - the only thing he would tell us, ever, is that we have -HAVE- to walk our dogs all the damn time. Well, sorry brother, but I cant do that, what else you got? Also, whenever he did any kind of training, he was either did a bunch of stuff off camera or he was just generally very vague about what he was doing - so you didnt learn anything, you just felt like you should buy all of his books and DVDs. lol But this Justin dude on DitC - the "Dog Guru" - doesnt just show the people with dog problems what to do, he does it on camera so we ALL get to see what to do in these situations. One day, I finally saw a situation close to mine where the people couldnt answer the damn door because their dogs were going ape shit - so I watched what Justin did and saw that it was something I could do by myself, inside and suddenly, I felt empowered - like I could fix this issue without hiring outside help! So, today, we did our first of many training sessions. When training, Justin likes to use deli turkey vs. dog cookies; but I wanted something uniform instead of just tearing off clumps of meat, so I thought of getting a package of pepperoni, but didnt like the idea of feeding them those spices, so I got a small package of Canadian bacon that was about the size of silver dollars. One of the things he pointed out was that a lot of dog owners try to teach or train from a negative perspective instead of a positive one. When he asked the woman what she wanted her dogs to do when someone knocked on the door, she said what I also said, out-loud to the tv (lol), "I want them to not bark." He said that's a negative, think of something positive - what do you what them to do? She thought about it, as did I, and no answer was forthcoming, so he suggested to have the dogs sit on the opposite side of the room as the door, leaving the space for the door to be answered and people to walk inside. Made perfect sense to me, so I decided my dogs should go to or on the couch when someone knocks on the door. So, I started out by getting them all to sit in front of or on the couch and gave them a piece of ham. Then I walked back several feet while telling them verbally and with hand gestures to "stay." They did, so I gave them all another piece. I did this several times, moving farther and farther back each time - and even turning my back to them - and each time, I came back to give them a piece of ham. Then I moved all the way to the door and knocked. The older dogs stayed sitting and quiet but the puppy (Jack) got up, startled and boofed. I gave him the hand gesture and verbal command to sit and stay and he did, so more ham. I did that several more times, each time knocking longer and louder and each time they didnt bark and rush the door, I gave them a piece of ham. The puppy didnt bark after that first time until the last time because I was pounding on the door and it freaked him a little, but both times I was able to calm him down quickly and he stayed put. This was not a bad start at all! My goal is 2-fold: I would like them to automatically go to the couch and sit on or in front of it quietly when someone knocks on the door and I would like for them to recognize the command "couch" the same way they do the commands, "bedroom" and "outside," meaning, when I say "couch," I would like for them to go to the couch and sit quietly. If I am consistent with this training, they will eventually get it and I think we will reach our goals - because, like I said, they are great dogs. :) Zeke, my 10yo, 80lb Boxer/Pit (L) and Max, my 7-ish yo 18lb Taiwan alley dog (R): https://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos...84347202_n.jpg Harley, my 15yo, 45lb hound dog (L) and Jack, my 2yo, 35lb Formosan (Taiwan) Mountain Dog (R): https://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos..._1340086_n.jpg |
River Standing on the riverbank Snow falling all around me Shadows floating overhead Stealing the moon's bright light I look into the darkness Of the water I see the reflection Of the woman I once was Now just a shell Feeling the shadows recede I look up at the full moon Blinking the snow out of my eyes Searching Without hesitation I look down into the water once more I see the reflection Of the woman I could be Again |
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Born in February 1997, I met Harley about a month later at a pet store in CA - back before I knew any better about buying a dog vs. adopting a dog. She came home to live with me a month after that, when she was 8wks old. Harley was with me through thick and thin, dozens of moves, a few girlfriends, the fostering of several other dogs, and the addition of 2 freaky little boys into our pack. Zeke came to us as a baby when Harley was 5 and she would not have any of this obnoxious little puppy who wouldnt stop trying to cuddle with her ... eventually, she gave in and accepted Zeke as her own - and last night, when Harley was laying on the floor in pain, they cuddled together again for one last time. She became paralyzed from the waist down in 2007 - no one could figure out why or if it would be permanent, but a few months later I saw her tail wagging and a month or so after that, she was walking again - never 100%, her back legs and back gave her problems and she needed carpet or area rugs to move around, but she was my trooper .... I thought I was going to have to let her go then, but she came through it and was a happy girl for over 5 more years. The cyst we discovered in her foot week before last became infected and while the antibiotics and anti-inflammatories helped a bit, the infection didnt seem to be getting better. She was in so much pain - which for her is saying a LOT because she has never really been affected by pain - that the tramadol, which, short of hospitalizing her and giving her morphine, was the best pain med she was going to get - and it wasnt even touching the pain. The vet suspected that the cyst might have been malignant cancer that could be affecting the bone - which would have explained why she was in so much pain that the meds werent helping and why the infection wasnt passing. My choices were: give these antibiotics and maybe some new ones a few more days to see if they could get the infection to dissipate, while leaving her in pain because there was nothing stronger to give her or let her go. Watching her laying on the table, shaking from all of the pain, I decided to let her go. I cant express my sorrow and guilt over this. She was my baby. I will miss her and love her forever. |
I went on-line to order an urn plaque for my dog, Harley's urn and it came in the mail today (it came fast because they are here in WA). It's a little plaque for urns that cannot be engraved - it hangs on a 6" chain around the top of the urn and the chain was a bit too long, so I clipped it with a safety pin.
Anyway, it's engraved with: Harley Bear My Baby Girl - Always 1997 - 2012 https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphot...43396925_n.jpg That's her collar at the base of the urn - it's a leather, studded Harley Davidson collar that I got for her when she was like 2 years old or something - it was so her because she was a tough old dominant bitch. :winky: |
Had a nightmare last night that we had a bad earthquake here and I was trying to get through the rubble with my 3 boys - my little old man Max was in a backpack, my big boy Zeke was on a leash, and I was having a hard time with my puppy Jack because he is afraid of everything, including his leash. I woke up afraid that I had lost him, but he was laying on the bed next to me.
I Googled dream interpretations and found a site that said the following about earthquakes: Quote:
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