Thursday, November 30, 2006

One bit of advice....

If you are young and still have all of your teeth, allow me to suggest that you FLOSS YOURSELF TO SLEEP EACH NIGHT for the rest of your natural life.

I've brushed and flossed quite a bit in my day, but still I have one tooth MIA and another sending me to a local root canal specialist.

Here we go again!

So please, young'uns, listen to the voice of decrepitude: Take care of your teeth NOW, before it's too, too late, and you're trying to figure out how you're going to pay for your dentist AND sock away enough money so that you can retire sometime before 70.

Otherwise, what's new? I spent part of the day writing a self-evaluation of my work performance. My manager told me to really promote myself, which, considering my background, is rather like asking me to go on out there and date men.

Self-promotion goes against everything I was taught as a child. Doing it feels unnatural, and I hear the voices of my ancestors weighing in with each pathetic attempt.

"Well, just who do you think you are, Miss Smarty-Pants?" That is the kindest comment so far.

But I finished it, and am just hoping it's "promotional" enough to pass muster. Or at least keep me employed for the next few months or so....

Last and least, tomorrow night is the company's winter holiday festival, and I am experiencing some wardrobe anxiety about it all. It's supposedly "semi-formal," which to a lesbian means "Stow the bolo ties."

Well, I've never worn a bolo tie, but really: What does semi-formal mean for the likes of me? I'm sure as heck not wearing a dress--gave that up in 1990, and my legs have gone to hell since then, so it's a no-win proposition no matter how you slice it. I've decided to wear some very nice slacks, a festive vest and turtleneck, and a cashmere coat over it all. Shiny black shoes may be included, may not.

Here's just hoping I don't embarrass myself or my people. My sole comfort is that "lesbian fashion" is one of the world's oldest oxymorons.




Sunday, November 26, 2006

My future's so dim, I'm taking off my glasses....

On the third night of my Thanksgiving holiday, I had a dream about work--about WORK! As befits a woman of my region of origin and upbringing, it wasn't subtle about it, either. In the dream, I was meeting with someone at work who I was warned had to approached just so, and it turned out the frighteningly prickly person I was approaching was a Pooh-bah in Corporate Communications.

A waxy 30-something Pooh-bah, but a Pooh-bah nonetheless. In Corporate Communications.

Could there be anything sadder? This dream is particularly galling, for I have been reading books on meditation and spirituality ALL WEEKEND, and they all are big on writing down what one sees in dreams. Our dreams offer signs of our past lives, our future, blah-blah-blah.

Well, apparently, I have a future approaching Pooh-bahs in Corporate Communications. Or were past lives involved in the same tepid endeavor?

Wait a minute--I have a PRESENT approaching Pooh-bahs in Corporate communications.

"The horror. The horror."

The good part of the dream was that before I approached the dreaded Pooh-bah, I did a video with the CEO of the company. In a delicious turn of events, it wasn't the actual CEO of my actual place of business, it was--God love 'im--Martin Sheen.

Yes, I dreamt that Martin Sheen was my CEO. He was almost as sharp as Pres. Bartlett on "The West Wing," but the second time we tried to get him to do the video, he got hung up on a bit of jargon on a marketing piece we were waving around. He didn't understand it, and wasn't going to do any more work on the video until he did.

A great number of people leapt forth to explain the term, but no one could appease his CEO-ness. So, the video came to a halt.

In an interesting turn, the marketing piece at issue was printed on purple paper. This, I think, was partially due to the fact that purple is in great favor with me and some of my work cohorts, and partially due to the Blue Letter that featured so prominently in the film, "Hudsucker Proxy."

Saw that film for the first time this weekend, and it was a disappointment. It was obviously going for greatness, but didn't come close--even with that cast (including Paul Newman!).

Alas, these things happen....

Speaking of things happening, this Thanksgiving certainly qualified as memorable. Linda and I were guests at a friend's celebration, to which she and her gal had invited about 20 people. It seemed to all be coming together, and then the oven broke. Even after the best efforts of five handy lesbians, it refused to heat up again.

Hostess nightmare!

After much tearing of hair and so forth, and several suggestions that bordered on insanity, Linda and I managed to talk said hostess into letting us finish the job. We had the nearest working oven and our car wasn't parked in, so we were dispatched with the giant bird and three trays of root vegetables.

We cooked the turkey and veggies, but for safety's sake, I made a call to the Butterball hotline. The bird had cooked for a while, but had not cooked for a while, too, and my dear brudder had salmonella as the result of a cooked/uncooked chicken, so I was worried. (Who wants to play a part in poisoning people on a holiday? Not I!)

Happily, the "home economist" on the line said the turkey had cooked long enough that it was no longer a threat to humanity. (My words, not hers.)

So, we finished cooking everything, wrapped the bird and veggies up in foil, put them carefully in the back of my car, and drove back to our friend's house. We arrived to cheers and much gladness.

The Dykes Who Saved Thanksgiving, is how I like to think of it (with apologies to the Grinch).

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

To each his/her own...

As I mentioned in my last post, Linda and I went to the movies this weekend to see this actor:

My dear former Peace Corps cohort, fellow queer, and lifelong friend Ed, however, went to the movies to see this actor:


We may be Family, but we sure aren't the same....

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Just in case you had any voter's remorse....

The announcement of a new anti-birth control and premarital sex man for the head of a family planning office by Pres. Bush in the wake of the Democratic landslide was a surprise, but then I remembered: That man doesn't learn anything from his mistakes, because HE DOESN'T MAKE THEM.

Right.

Then, I heard the FDA was approving silicone implants for use yet again, even though they are destined to rupture if worn long enough, and can cause problems for women who want to breastfeed their babies and/or have babies that don't have certain complications.

But as this was approved by an Administration that lies on a regular basis, it makes sense that they want women to get in on the action, too. "Of course, these are real."

Right.

Artifice and greed are the prevailing themes of this crowd, not to mention false piety, so they're definitely going out with a bang, not a whimper.

But the times, they are a changin', and I couldn't be happier about it. At CafePress.com, a tremendous array of Democratic-themed t-shirts and what-all are for sale. The first slogan that caught my eye was, "I think, therefore I am a Democrat," but my favorite has got to be the following, "Democrats think the glass is half full; Republicans think the glass is theirs." Ha!

On other fronts, I have been reading a lot about reincarnation lately, and I am surprised at my response. At first I was pleased that despite Peggy Lee's fabulous anthem, there is tremendous scientific evidence that suggests this is not all there is, but then I thought about it, and realized I was rather hoping it was.

Perhaps that is why newborn babies cry so. They're thinking, "Oh no, not this again!"

Lastly, Linda and I saw "The Queen" last night, and were quite taken by it. I had half-expected the Queen was going to get a drubbing in the film, but was surprised that I left the theatre with a new understanding and appreciation for all of her stiff-upper-lip-ness and rigid sensibility.

And Helen Mirren? Perfection! (What else?)

On the absurd side, I wonder this: Did they thicken Helen's calves to look more like HRH's, or does she actually have mega-calves?

Like I'm in any position to talk, this I know. The older I get, the more the farmer genes take over....







Sunday, November 12, 2006

A good show--and I remembered!

Last night's show in Hartford went well. Not knock-yer-socks-off well, but well enough that I didn't worry about my houseguests or the coworker who brought his girlfriend to the show.

Worry that they'd have to pretend to have a good time, that is. (Codependent Forever More is my credo.)

Was particularly touched by the post-show compliments of an older man (who read very gay, but very closeted). He didn't say anything about the substance of my material but that he enjoyed it. What he did say is that I seemed very relaxed while performing. Relaxed! I felt an adrenaline surge just before I went up on stage, and found myself worrying about speeding through my set, but apparently, that did not manifest to the audience.

Or at least to this dear fellow.

I find it remarkably sweet when people say thank you for a performance, but when they say something that directly addresses a concern, I feel like the Comic Gods are looking after me.

Thanks, Comic Gods!

As for remembering, I actually did remember the sad story of the mother haircut referral and the Democrats giving the GOP a taste of their own medicine bits, and I think they're both good enough to keep for future use. Of course, the political one might be outdated by the next time I see a stage, but it was very cathartic to do, so who cares?

That's enough for one missive. A massive pile of laundry awaits, so off I must go. Here's to The Comedy, the Democrats and life after the GOP: HOOOOOOOORAY!

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Today's dose of demoralization

Went to a local Open Studios with Linda and two friends who are visiting from out of town this afternoon. We noticed that our favorite bakery had a stand, so picked up a delicious muffin (split four ways--we just had lunch, after all) and coffees.

After I paid the nice young woman behind the counter, she asked me who did my hair. I was pleased, I am ashamed to say, until she added, "Because my mom is looking for someone to cut her hair so she won't look like an old lady."

Yes, I found myself giving a hair salon referral to a nice young woman--for her mother.

Altogether now: Ouch!

Our company is currently napping, bless their hearts, so I have time to obsess over tonight's show (Prospect Cafe in Hartford @ 8:30). Am mulling over giving the dear people of Connecticut heck for voting for Joe Lieberman, but that may not be a good idea. But really: They sent Joe a message during the primary--did they all forget what it was by the general election?

Am also wondering about some new material about a nightmare scenario for Republicans--besides the latest election, of course. What if Democrats gave them a taste of their own medicine?
For example, the Democrats stood by helplessly as the GOP allowed Enron and Exxon-Mobil to write U.S. energy policy. What if the Democrats have Greenpeace write our new environmental policy? Shirley Maclaine put together new faith-in-reincarnation-based initiatives? Willie Nelson in to handle drug policy?

Ah, there is fun to be had, yes indeed. (If, indeed I remember any of it!)

Thursday, November 09, 2006

The dream continues....

Forgot to mention the African American Democrat who will be sitting in the Governor's seat in our humble Commonwealth, not to mention the election of the first woman Attorney General (also a Democrat, of course).

Oh, and this just in--the anti-gay Amendment has been shelved for another year. WOOwee!

My goddess, I hope I don't wake up for a very long time....

Somebody pinch me....

An Evangelical Kingpin has been brought down by revelations of substance abuse and "mandates" of the very best kind?

Donald Rumsfeld is looking for work?

We have a Democratic majority in the House and the Senate?

...I must be dreaming!

Add to the list that I just brought my Linus home from the vet, and while he's groggy as groggy can be, I think he'll be all right. (He got morphine--for a tooth removal and cleaning. I feel positively cheated!)

Life is very, very good, people. And while I harbor fears that the Democrats will squander their opportunity, I am comforted by the fact that: no one could mess things up worse than the so-n-sos they're replacing.

NO ONE.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Poor pup!

Our Linus had an egg-sized swelling under his eye last week, and Linda and I, being the wreck nervosas we are where he is concerned, brought him to the vet. Well, I brought him to the vet, as Linda was in charge of lawn maintenance this weekend.

The verdict? Poor pup, he has a bad tooth--yes, following in his mother's footsteps--and must have it taken out this week.

This will be the second time he's had to be knocked out and operated on this year, for pity's sake. Our first reaction was to resist putting him through that agony again, but from what the vet told me, even one bad tooth can really wreak havoc on a canine. In fact, she asserted the bacteria in his tooth is more of a threat to him than going through the surgery. And in case she didn't have my attention after that pearl of wisdom, she also said that healthy teeth make the difference between a dog living 10 years and living 14-15 years.

As Linus is already 11 and we both love him like he's our own flesh and blood, what's a girl to do?

Schedule the surgery, that's what. For Thursday, the day I work from home. The good news is that this procedure will only be a day-long affair, and so I'll be able to drop him off in the morning and take him home that night.

It makes me so sad that he has surgery in his future--and that dogs have the "patch, patch, patch" problem as well. Poor Linus!

On other fronts, even though Linda is the lawn diva, I helped with the raking this weekend. I couldn't last week, because I had a tooth out and wasn't supposed to exert myself (yes, my patch-a-thon continues), and I felt bad about it. Particularly as we have ridiculously prolific trees in our yard--and our neighbors' yards, for that matter. Poor Linda!

So, I raked, and right now, my right wrist feels like I strained it. Good grief--one little episode of raking, and there's heck to pay.

Ah, the middle ages. What's not to love, eh?

Lastly, I must confess that I sometimes listen to Gayle King on XM radio, but likely will do so no more. She had served as a nice antidote to the dueling jerks on Young Turks on Air America (there is a third person, a woman, but she seems to only say wildly inappropriate things that have no relevance to the matter at hand--what's a talkshow without a Non Sequitur Girl? A relief!). Anyway, the Turks, young liberals with an attitude (their words, not mine), do occasionally get on my last nerve, so I turn to either disco or Gayle King for blessed relief.

Well, now I'm just turning to disco. Last week, Ms. King said something about the John Kerry botched joke mishap that was straight out of the Neo-Con Playbook for the whole tempest in a teapot, and she just plummeted down in my rankings of people I will listen to gladly. In fact, she's no longer on the list.

Just when I thought she was a nice lady with a smile in her voice and a candid view on life, she ends up sounding like Rush Limbaugh's kid sister.

Alas.

So now, I think of her as a FOO--that's Friend of Oprah, or fou, as the French put it, and right now, I'm leaning toward the latter.

And one last thought on John Kerry: If he didn't exist, the Republicans would make him up.

Or have they?

Thursday, November 02, 2006

The fallout from #30....

I'm supposed to be at the open mic at PACE tonight, but I just didn't have enough gumption. Or jokes, for that matter. I'm lacking gumption and jokes, so it seemed a good night to pass--even on the best open mic around (sorry, Jennifer).

It's been nine days since I had tooth #30 out, and I still feel like I'm draggin' my carcass around. Since that fateful day, I've been feeling a little tired, a little spacey, a little cranky--generally, a lotta under the weather. Of course, I had my period for some of this time--this gal can count on Ma Nature arriving at the worst possible moment, and she rarely disappoints. This just added to the joy of my recent journey, but methinks the crux of my carcass-dragging is #30, RIP.

And today, I learned that the estimated total for filling the hole in my head left by #30 is $3,900.

So, not only do I get to be tired, spacey, and cranky, I also get to contemplate spending 1.5 months' worth of take-home to be able to chew on the right side of my mouth. Actually, insurance should cover half of that, but still--that's a lotta cabbage!

This middle-aged business? For the frick'n BOIDs, people.

See, I told you I was cranky.

It doesn't help that there's already murmurs of voting machine fraud (early voting in Texas seems to be oddly skewing towards the GOP--what luck for them, eh?), the Cranks for Christ are revving up the "Love Thy Neighbor But Hate Them Queers" get-out-the vote campaigns all over this benighted country, and our own John Kerry has managed to do his part to inflame anti-Democratic sentiment by getting butch about two years too late.

Will someone please arrange to get that man out of the country six months before the 2008 election? Teresa, honey--please do this service for your country. Take him to a nice island--preferably without any press.....

On the good news front, I have been hearing about a groundswell of support for the proposition that Bill Moyers should be on the Democratic ticket in 2008. I loved him on "Now," but think he's waaaaay too civilized to be a presidential candidate.

Or is he?

This could be interesting.....