Stranger Stop and Cast Your Eye

Much nicer day than anyone expected today, so we visited some historic cemeteries. We're not serious gravestone people, but we appreciate the history and the beauty of the old local cemeteries and visit them from time to time.

A favourite is the Sears cemetery, which is basically an overgrown family plot in a very nice little conservation area. I grew up only a couple of miles away from it, and never knew it was there until I was a teenager. There's absolutely no indication from the road of its existence, so it's sort of a shock the first time you go there and discover gravestones 'round the corner. But it's a nice little spot in general, lots of trees, a brook and a littile lake, and a couple of swans that visit, although come to think of it, I'm not sure that's nice. Swans are mean.

Since we were in the region, we also visited the Dennis Town Hall Cemetery which I have to say was a bit disappointing. The age of the stones is interesting, but they're unfortunately very, very worn, and there's not that many of them. The whole region is sort of barren, there's no trees or interesting natural features, completely flat, and the grass is sort of sparse. The spousal unit nicknamed it the "blasted heath" and that's pretty much what it was.

Judging by the look of the place, we're pretty sure that there used to be a lot more stones in the Dennis Town Hall Cemetery that have worn down or been broken. There's a lot of spots where there's no longer a stone but people were obviously buried (low mounds in the ground in neat rows that look just like other low mounds that have a headstone and a footstore). I realize that sounds grisly, but it's impossible not to notice these things as you're walking through an old cemetery. Also, there's pieces of what clearly used to be headstones, but are now very worn down and almost indistinguishable from a piece of stone you might see in a stone wall.

I didn't mention this to the spousal unit when we went, but I was sort of on the alert for any "spooky feeling" in the Town Hall Cemetery. I'm pretty sure that's the spot one of the local Pagans mentioned being very creeped out by, they were convinced that the place is haunted. Mind you, the number of Pagans who run around claiming to feel "bad vibes" or that a place is haunted is ridiculous, but in my experience, some places do have an unpleasant atmosphere or are haunted, so I was keeping an open mind. I suspect in this case though, they were reacting to the dreary location and the sort of run-down quality the place has.

In other news, I purchased plants, including hostas and forsythia. The plan for the hostas is for them to grow up big and strong and fill in under the pine trees so that we can stop pretending we're ever going to be able to grow a lawn under there. The plan for the forsythia is for it to grow up big and strong and provide a little bit of privacy for us in the back yard. Plus, we're in Massachusetts, and I'm sure it's mandatory to have forsythia in your yard here, I'm surprised we haven't been cited or given a ticket or something for not having one.

The next plan is to buy something to fill in the back yard and provide a sound and visual buffer between ourselves and our back neighbors. We have a fence, but we want more. Our decks are sort of on the same level, and we're just sort of uncomfortably aware of each other when we're both on our back decks at the same time. Plus, we can see EVERYTHING that goes on at their house while eating dinner and looking out of our sliding glass doors. At times it's been quite entertaining, but we suspect that they may be thinking the same of us. Time to plant some shrubs.

Memories of my youth

I have these memories of Cape Cod that don't quite fit with modern day reality. While much of the Cape stays the same year after year, some of it has changed significantly. Here's the Cape Cod I remember that no longer exists,

Poor Cape Cod.
I grew up in the "poor" section of a particular town on Cape Cod. I'm using that term very loosely, perhaps "not elite" would be a better way of putting it. It wasn't the mean streets or anything like that. But the houses were little ranches, and the pines were scrub, and the soil was sandy and there was tons of space, too much space as far as I was concerned. I wanted to be able to easily ride my bike somewhere other than the local golf course.

There was an overgrown cranberry bog nearby that I could easily reach if I cut through the neighbor's woods. The local stores were sort of run down and set on cracking asphalt, you could see the grass growing up between the cracks.

Today, you can still see the little ranches, but you also see plenty of mini-mansions. There's two houses now instead of one on the property I used to cut through and I don't know either one of the families who lives there. Sometimes when I go into town I want to laugh because the decaying stores I remember have been gentrified by fresh paint and pots of flowers. My old town is prettier beyond a doubt, but somehow less real.

Sleazy Cape Cod
If you haven't been to Provincetown before, make sure you visit Shop Therapy. That's one of the few proper outposts of sleaze left on the Cape. I remember going to Shop Therapy in my teens with some friends and getting into the adult section. Past the bongs and rolling papers was a display of the different vibrators they offered, each mounted by its base in an individual plexiglass case. On the outside of the plexiglass case was a button, and when you pushed the button, the mounted vibrator proceeded to...well..vibrate. It was quite entertaining to a pack of sixteen year olds. If I remember correctly, most of the vibrators were restrained in their movements, but one of them had this energetic sideways action going. Hee!

Hilarity ensued until we were chased out of the store, still giggling and pointing. Oh my, what snots we were! Unfortunately, that display is gone now. I am quite distressed to this day that Shop Therapy no longer demonstrates their vibrators in this fashion, it really was something worth showing to visitors.

Don't get me wrong, Provincetown still has a lot of sex but it's a bit slicker these days and a lot of it is less accessible to the uninitiated. I've been in Toys of Eros with a couple of friends that are part of the B&D scene. I am not fond of Toys, and I find it difficult to pinpoint why. I don't like shopping for real at sleazy places (despite enjoying the entertaining sleaze of Shop Therapy), but Toys tends to feel a bit too much like an urban nightclub for my taste. While I was with my friends I felt a tiny bit like the hick cousin. There was a serious discussion with the store clerk about the relative merits of different corsets. I felt like I was in a class where I hadn't done the homework and was hoping no one would call upon me. I can't really add anything to such a discussion other than, "Blue's such a pretty color. Why don't you get the one in blue?" (Interestingly, Toys of Eros has a sister store called Wild Hearts that is woman only and has a very different feel. Much more fun, much less intimidating, probably the store sites have a lot to do with it.)

A sleazy store that went respectable and has now vanished off the map was the Head & Foot Shop. I remember when that place was called the Head & Foot Shop because they sold rolling papers, pipes and "wild" shoes. It gradually acquired more and more sportswear, and got rid of the head shop stuff altogether when it became illegal to sell it in Massachusetts. Now it's gone. Let that be a lesson to all you stores trying to move past your sleaziness!

Some of it is me of course. When I was a teenager on Cape, I sought out sleaziness because I confused it with adulthood. In a fairly safe way, but I sought it out all the same. I hung out with a girlfriend at "Snatch Alley" (lovely name, eh?) a public beach, and we had much older guys try to pick us up, usually by asking us if we wanted to get high. We never took any of them up on it, we were just young enough that getting the attention was the main thing.

There is this whole other side of life that you see when you're a teenager and seeking experience. Well, maybe "other side of life" is the wrong way of putting it. In a nutshell, you get to see who is outwardly respected but is willing to offer drugs to sixteen-year olds. The people that don't have the drugs offered to them never know that the person they respect has this aspect to them. I'm sure it all goes on today but it's mostly invisible to me now.

And of course, my priorities have changed. It used to be a Big Thrill, 'lo these many years ago to go to one of the Chinese restaurants with poor liquor ID enforcement, and have the one legal person in the group order a Scorpion Bowl while the rest of us surreptiously sipped off it. This was a late night expedition, when things were getting a bit loose and alwaysy accompanied by a Pu Pu Platter. Nowadays, the people that you see in late night restaurants sort of scare me, the poor quality of food that you get in a sleazy Chinese restaurant is a big waste of money, and goddam it, I'll order my own damn Scorpion Bowl if I want one.

No Brain, No Pain

I learned today that one of my coworkers is much older than I had realized, I had guessed wrong by a good ten or twelve years.

In previous conversations, it had been established, by my co-worker's own admission, she's not really interested in anything but "being warm and eating".

(Me, I'd never admit such a thing publicly, but then I care about more than being warm and eating. )

Anyway, I think that's why she looks far younger than her actual age.

House cats tend to look pretty good as they age. If your thought process resembles that of a house cat, why shouldn't you age like one?

Spring on Cape Cod

The weather reports lied, right now we have a splendid spring day. It's mild, with sunshine and blue skies.A very pleasant surprise after all the rain and clouds.

Blooming right now,

Holly, wild olive, beach plum and lilac. I never really realized holly bloomed until I had one right in my yard.

Wildlife observed today,

Northern Flicker and a bunny.And, I can hear the songs of all sorts of birds.

Go Kermit the Blog!

Dave had an excellent rant about how our local computers for seniors luminary was forced at gunpoint to write something about blogs. More amusingly, the man wrote back and informed us all that he's not old (followed by digs at Dave's supposed youth), and than went on about his health problems and why he's such a productive citizen, compared to all bloggers.

I'm not sure what relevance his health or volunteer efforts have to the whole discussion. I'm sure there's plenty of retired people who donate their time to others and have health problems who also don't spend their time whining about internet phenomenon they don't understand or typing patronizing emails to people that do.

Just out of curiosity, I looked at the organization that this man is the president of (or was as of the writing of the article), Computers for Seniors. Hmmm, this is where his volunteer effort is going instead of "penning blogs". Let's see, for starters, the site's title is "Compuers for Seniors". Teeth-achingly bad site design. Links to the Councils on Aging and local Libraries, must have taken all of two minutes to put those together. A nifty little article informing us of the existence of Netflicks and of Gardenweb. No offense, but if you can make it to the Computers for Seniors webpage, you don't need to be informed about Netflicks and Gardenweb. Heck, I've been visiting Gardenweb since 1995 or so. (If you like plants, do go to Gardenweb, it's an excellent resource.)

If this is a representative sample of his volunteer efforts, no wonder he doesn't like blogs. The sampling of links and commentary presented on this web site is frankly much poorer than what I would expect to read in a better than average blog.

I actually would love to read a good blog from a senior. Someone sharing their values and the links that catch their eye along with feedback from their readership. However, as long as seniors are being encouraged by their peers to think of the Internet as a scary place where wacko young'ns do inexplicable things, that's not going to happen.

Garden Update

I love poking around the yard and seeing what made it through the winter. Here's a partial tally,

Butterfly Bush that was planted last summer. Covered with green leaves.

Lily bulbs that were planted this past fall. Sending up green leaves.

Sage that was planted when we first moved in a couple of years ago. Threatening to take over the yard and covered with buds. I just wish we liked sage more, I love the plant but feel little urge to do anything with it.

Strawberries that were here when we moved here, and I've been nursing along. Loaded with green berries, looks like an excellent crop this year.

Lavender I planted a couple of years ago. Did poorly over the winter, and I thought it had died, but it's sending out a few green leaves.

Lupine moved last fall. Survived the move and I noticed the first bud spike today.

Perennial sweat pea moved last fall. Sigh. That did not survive, I'm sorry now that I moved the poor thing.

Lily-of-valley Leafing out all over, looks like it's expanded a lot this year. Not too many buds yet though.

Wild columbine. The old one is coming back and seems to either be expanding (or set seed) because there's a new tiny one right by it. Also, the one I planted last year survived the winter.

Guess when the forecast says we're next getting a sunny day?

Today's Saturday, go on guess.

Given up? Thursday. Five days of rain and clouds to look forward to, what fun.

In other news. Our neighbors have still not sold their house, which is surprising. It's been on the market since winter, which didn't bode well for them, but after all, it was a terrible winter. Not many people wanting to trudge through the snow for an open house. But here we are, it's warmed up, the forsythia has already bloomed, the lilac is just blooming, and still no one had bought.

The spousal unit and myself watch the open houses with great interest. We've gotten way too into speculating over who's going to buy the house. We see someone come in for an open house who looks like someone we would welcome as neighbors (younger, alternative, middle-class), and we get all excited. Then, we see someone we wouldn't welcome (snooty, rednecky, sleazy) and our hopes fall.

Look, there's not that many people in our demographic living year-round on Cape Cod. Would it really be too much to ask that some of them move in next door?

Oh, The Poor Thing

This article isn't new, but it's new to me. Apparently, John Schultz "maintains several senior-related Web sites", lives on Cape Cod and was forced at gunpoint to write an article on blogs for the Cape Cod Times supplement for seniors, Prime Time.

I say "forced at gunpoint" because he does nothing in this article but whine about how awful blogs are. Everything from how he doesn't like the name "blog", to how "no subject is out of bounds", to how most bloggers sound as if their "funny cigarettes were soaked with airplane glue". (How did he write "funny cigarettes" with a straight face? Hee!)

I feel sort of bad for the senior audience that he purports to address. Don't they deserve someone who can actually write something insightful about an internet phenomenon, rather than treating it with contempt?

Spy on Your Neighbors

On a lighter note, I found this service. Essentially, it's like having a scanner connected to your pager.

People outside of the region probably aren't familiar with this, but listening to the scanner used to be a cherished form of entertainment in small New England towns, all the better to keep an eye on what your neighbors were up to. This pager service brings that nosiness into the modern era, now you can spy on your neighbors in your car or from the workplace.

Bad and Sad Events

I used to work at this strip club. It's a nice place that had been run by the same family for twenty-five years, it's shocking to think of someone getting shot there.

And, this is horrible. Some thug murdered a man in Barnstable by tying them to a tree and setting them on fire. I can't think of a punishment bad enough for whoever had a hand in it, and I get all hot and angry just typing this.

In the Day household, we're speculating that it was a hate crime. No one does a sick thing like this unless they're trying to send a message. It could be anti-gay, it could also be anti-minority. There's some anti-Brazilian sentiment on Cape and I wonder if this poor kid was a Brazilian tortured by racists.

At Least They're Not Local

Why yes, it is tourist season again. It officially starts Memorial Day, but why quibble?

"DENNISPORT - A honeymooning Yonkers, N.Y., couple spent last night in police custody, as an argument over who should drive ended in a fight on Route 28."

Ah, love sweet love.

The couple was married Saturday and came to Cape Cod for their honeymoon. Officer Christine Hornby passed the couple's 2002 Honda just before 1 a.m. yesterday. The car was stopped in the middle of the road, the doors were open, and the car alarm was going off, Monahan said. Hornby saw a man and woman fighting in the car, and then they rolled into the street, Monahan said. "I guess the honeymoon was over at that point," Monahan said.

Ya think?

"Monahan said Fraser and Tellone had an "amorous" reunion in the police department's lobby after they were released."

Eww! I did not want to read that!

But I'm a Cheerleader!

Find out which But I'm A Cheerleader girl you are.

Good Times

This weekend we went to a pretty little spot known as Pilgrim Spring in Truro. The pictures don't do the views justice. We had frozen our butts off this past winter hiking through there (more accurately, running through it at a trot to keep warm) and this day was such a contrast. The air was warm and welcoming, and scented with (I think) blueberry and wild cherry flowers.

We then went elsewhere and discovered a hiking spot frequented by birdwatchers and a truly stunning number of birds. It was like something out of an old Disney movie, where all the birds are tweetering and flying about and helping Cinderella prepare for the ball. We saw several Rufus Towhees, all sorts of warblers, and of course the usual cardinals, chickadees, and geese.

The highlights of the day were the sheer number of birds, the geese feeding with their goslings (too cute!) and most enchantingly, the chickadees.

Apparently it is a "thing" at this particular spot to offer seed to the chickadees. Not in a feeder, in your hand. We did not know about this until we observed a man feeding a chickadee in this way, the cheeky little thing perched on his hand and proceeded to peck at the seed. We had assumed that he had patiently waited for oh...hours and hours for the creature to get used to him.

However, some time later on the trail, when the air was very still and we were surrounded by birds, the spousal unit extended a hand, and startlingly, a chickadee almost immediately visited it. The bird realized the spousal unit had no food and flew away, but then I had a try. The chickadee hopped on my hand, I can still feel the wee birdie claws on my finger, and the way my chest consticted to see this enchanting little thing on me. All I can say is, WOW!

A perfect day was capped by getting lobster at this place. Oh yeah. The fattest tastiest lobster I've had in years. We got the traditional clambake and we're looking forward to going back over the summer to try more dishes.

Will they or won't they get their asking price?

The neighbors are having an open house. You have no idea how tempted I am to put on a little show for the benefit of those attending the open house.

Something subtle, like walking a gerbil on a leash or holding a vibrator race on the front lawn.

Blah.

I've been feeling uninspired recently. I keep this blog as a means of discipline, to encourage myself to write every day. It does seem to have an effect on my general writing, making me more inspired and coherent when (for example) I post to a message board, but I'm not sure I'm improving as a blogger. Hmmm.

I am going through a remarkably soul-sucking time though. If our database conversion goes well at work, it will be a miracle of Bibilical proportions.

Actually, I would enjoy the work tremendously under ordinary circumstances. I enjoy the process of going through the database, making notes, passing them on to our consultant, getting a new version of the database, (repeat as necessary). This is actually my idea of a good time. Except there's executive staff breathing down our necks about it.

Look, it's been worked on in an indifferent way for the past six months, why does it suddenly have to come together in the next two weeks?

Friday Five

1. What drinking water do you prefer -- tap, bottle, purifier, etc.?

Purifier all the way. I grew up in a house with a well and the iron content of the water was so great that a spoon would practically stand upright in it. Then I lived for years in the suburbs with water with chlorine content you could always smell, which was foul. It put me off tap water for good.

I do like flavored seltzer and will drink that as a treat.

2. What are your favourite flavor of chips?

Plain, no ruffles or sour cream and onion.

3. Of all the things you can cook, what dish do you like the most?

I don't cook, I bake. My favorite is pound cake or gingerbread.

4. How do you have your eggs?

Preferably not at all, the smell of cooking eggs makes me naseous.

If you insist, I will eat hard-boiled eggs or eggs chopped into pork-fried rice.

5. Who was the last person who cooked you a meal? How did it turn out?

The spousal unit, because the spousal unit always cooks. (See number 3.) It was excellent, pasta with white sauce.

Ceiling fan's up!

The ceiling fan is up and looking very handsome. The guy who installed it was a bit like Quint from Jaws, I kept waiting for him to break into a sea chantey. He loved our cat (!) and she tolerated his petting. I have no idea why, but our cat is very popular with workmen, in another house the gasman picked her up with great enthusiasm, while I waited for her to scratch his eyes out.

One minor quibble with the ceiling fan. It's mounted at the very top of our cathedral ceiling, there's no attic or anything so the ceiling is shaped like an inverted "v" where the two sides of the roof meet. The previous fan had a smaller cap that met the roof exactly, but this one has a larger cap and it's not quite flush with the ceiling. Now, being a cathedral ceiling, you can only see it if you stand at the top of the stairs but it does kind of bug me. I may stop by our fan place and see if there's something that can be done, some part that can be added or something.

In other news,

I got an "A" in my Accounting Class!

You have no idea how happy I am! I'm signed up for a class this summer and a class this fall so my break will be brief, but I intend to spend the next month enjoying NO STUDYING.I'll play with beads, drink cocktails, read and watch TV. Can't wait.

Last but not least,

Eclipse tomorrow!

Ask not for whom the ceiling fan hums...

Tomorrow, someone from this company will be coming to fix our ceiling fan. This is very exciting, for the first time in our lives, we'll have a ceiling fan that looks like an "after" rather than a "before".

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Moderate
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	Moderate
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Moderate

Take the Dante's Inferno Test

Hee! I finally got around to taking this and I'm lustful, wrathful, gloomy heretic.

Moron Coworkers

I think I've mentioned before that my office is very chilly unless a particular door is kept shut? Why the hell is everyone in the place determined to keep that door open?

It's not even fifty degrees outside, and they want a bracing draft to circulate through the office.

Eesh. No jury would convict me.

We had my parents over for dinner last night for mother's day. I think it went pretty well, things are always a little awkward between myself and my parents. My mother grew up in one of these super-repressed dysfunctional families where you Just Don't Talk about anything wrong, and it makes even ordinary conversation somewhat strained. You can tell her something's bothering you about your job, and that will inspire her to tell you a story of something completely unrelated that happened twenty years ago.

I'll admit, I'm so used to being super-repressed in these conversations that I have difficulty actually envisioning what a free exchange of ideas would be like. Frankly, the idea is terrifying.

In my mind, I associate the free and frank exchange of ideas to be something only done when something truly horrible happens, because that was the only time it was done when I was growing up. Someone dies or something equally traumatic.

Also, usually a free and frank exchange only happened when an adult in my life was having a meltdown, so I associate it with a terrifying loss of emotional control.

I know it doesn't have to be like this. I'm working on it a tiny bit at a time for myself. But meanwhile, it colors my exchanges with other people, and especially my exchanges with my mother.

Trip to Great Island

In other news, a friend of ours was here for the weekend, and we all took a hike out to Great Island. I am very glad we went, but we walked way too much, and I'm now not sure I ever want to go to Great Island again.

I wouldn't call the spousal unit and myself couch potatoes exactly, but our speed is more a leisurely little hike of a mile or two. A nice walk where you've gotten out and stretched your legs and seen some scenery. Six or so miles is really pushing it for us, and a significant portion of the hike is on soft sand.

Add to that, the spousal unit and I are stereotypical only children. Our friend clearly isn't. :) The spousal unit and I don't tend to talk unless we have something specific to say, and we tend to leave a lot of "space" in any conversation. Both of us find it very tiring to be "on" with guests, whereas "on" seems to be our friend's natural state. (Quite fascinating to watch really. How on earth do people do this without coffee?)

Still, all and all, it was a good time.

More Tales of Our Fine Citizenry

What was that I said about people in Mid-Cape having taken stupid pills?

Man charged with driving backhoe under the influence of alcohol

"BARNSTABLE, Mass (AP) A man who had a few too many drinks was pulled over in an unusual traffic stop after he took a backhoe he ''found'' at a worksite for an early morning drive, police said."

Actually, I will admit to have some sympathy for the guy. Once I was at an outdoor festival and very drunk, and I became seized with this notion to drive a golf cart. Fortunately, the spousal unit was there and "talked me down" from this notion.

Our Fine Citizenry

God, everyone in Mid-Cape must have taken stupid pills before breeding.

Smile! Candid camera caught criminal suspects, Cape Cod Times 5/8/03

"YARMOUTH - Four Mid-Cape teens charged with destroying town property play starring roles in their own home movie of crime in different Mid-Cape towns."

"The kids fled on foot but were caught by the pursuing officers Eric Nuss, George Tsoukalas, Stephen Renzi and Matthew Fleischmann. One kid punched an officer and ran off. Police K9 Officer Tom Hennessey arrived and helped catch him."

Oh yeah, that's right. When a cop catches you, the thing to do is punch the cop!

And, here's a gem from this morning,

Boy, 14, gave Viagra to classmates

HYANNIS - A 14-year-old boy will be summonsed to appear in Barnstable Juvenile Court on charges he handed out Viagra samples to classmates last month at the Hyannis Middle School.

This is my favorite comment,

"What in the world does a 14-year-old boy need Viagra for?" asked a bemused Melia. "This is not something we generally come across on the Cape. As far as I know, there's not a big demand for Viagra in the younger crowd."

Random thoughts

I've figured out how to present myself and my experience on Monster. I've always loathed resume writing, and their template is exceptionally user-unfriendly, but I have to admit that it's good for clarifying one's thoughts.

Now when someone irritates me at work I can just smile serenely. Nothing gets me down. Hee! I just smiled again thinking about it.

On a more restrained note, given this economy, I can't get smug. I could be not-so-serene and in fact mighty cranky when six months from now, my resume hasn't had a nibble. However, deep in my heart, I feel lucky, and like I'm going to get what I desire.

Why isn't going to the gynecologist more fun?

Let me ramble a bit, I'll get to where I'm going eventually.

Right now I'm listening to a new guilty pleasure, my Craig David CD. This music is a couple steps up from boy band, but oh-so-pleasant to have in the background. This would be the perfect music to listen to while getting your hair cut, and I don't mean that in a bad way.

Which leads me to wonder, why is a pleasant environment considered important for the lighter things in life (hair cutting, shopping), but not when you go to the doctor? One of the things that keeps me going back to places like the Gap is the fact that I feel like a human being while I shop. I listen to fun music in a pleasant shop with helpful salespeople. Don't get me wrong, I like the clothes too, but I like Marshall's selection, and you'll only catch me going there once in a blue moon. The emergency shelter atmosphere is only fun if you have plenty of Cold War era cocktails to brighten things up.

When I go to the gynecologist, it always seems to be a cold waiting room, filled with old magazines. Wouldn't it be better to browse through a sex toy catalog while waiting and listen to fun music when your feet are in the stirrups? What if (when reminding you about your appointment), you were asked, which three songs you'd like to listen to during your appointment. It'd make all this female care stuff so much more fun. The only nod in that direction seems to be the "look at your cervix" empowerment stuff, and a) it's not for everyone and b) it tends to make me feel sort of like the only acceptable image of female empowerment is stuck in the seventies.

News that Caught My Eye

R.I.P. Old Man of the Mountain. I'm glad I got to see you before you went, you'll be missed.

This is so Happy Valley.

I can't believe Boston had a city censor up until the early eighties.

I realize this guy is a creepy sex pest, but it's still sort of funny.

Marina's Dreams

I had very strange dreams last night, of which I only remember two.

In the first, I was a beautiful, fully transitioned early transexual woman. I worked as a showgirl in France, and was one of the first recipients of sex re-assignment surgery. (This is all more or less historically accurate by the way.)

In the dream, I was happy that I was so beautiful and men liked me, but sometimes I felt like empty inside, especially when I couldn't be sure if a man liked me because I was "an exotic freak" or because he perceived me as a real woman. Still, I was happier to be where I was then I ever had been as a guy.

Curiously in the dream, I had a dual-consciousness thing going. As my dream self, I had all the anxieties common to young transexual women, but my waking self had some awareness as well, and was noting that the worries about men's motivations, and feeling that people didn't really know who you were, were all similar to my waking self's worries and concerns as a natal woman. Very strange.

It probably comes from the fact that I know something about transexual and transgender issues, and I don't view ts or tg people as "other", I view them as grappling with many of the same worries everyone has, but with additional extreme circumstances.I may be unrealistic and sound like I'm playing down the very unusual situation of being transexual, but I think it's ultimately more useful to view certain aspects of it as being on a great continuum of human experience. I dunno, I feel like I'm putting this all very badly...I may reword this post if I can think of better language to do so.

On a lighter note, my second remembered dream had to do with seeing a distant cousin (not really, but in the dream) at a family gathering, someone I only saw once in a great, great while, and feeling instant attraction between the two of us. (It wasn't skeevy, in the dream set-up, we were definitely peers, and the family thing was almost irrevelevant.)

For some reason, neither one of us wanted to be bold and act directly on the attraction, but there was a lot of the playful resting hands on each other shoulders and other types of light touching you do when you're attracted to someone but aren't quite ready to act on it yet. Incredibly erotic! Almost at the very end of the dream, he did was some wonderful chewing on my ears and whispering appreciative comments, and I remember feeling guilty that I was letting this guy nibble on my ears even though I'm a married woman, but it felt so good that I only wanted it to continue. (I realize this dream makes me sound like a total sleazeball, but I swear I'm not in real life.) He was also a Brit (no, I'm not related to any Brits), and the two of us were sitting together drinking, and I had the worst time trying to make out his increasingly slurred whispers in my ear, but I absolutely didn't want him to stop.

Much to my shock, when I awoke, I realized my dream cousin Brit looked strikingly like Handy Andy from Changing Rooms! I don't think I have any sort of crush on this person in real life, but I will not be able to watch the show without blushing for a good month or so.

Friday Five

1. Name one song you hate to admit you like.
I have a lot of guilty pleasures when it comes to music, but Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran, Ballroom Blitz by Sweet and the entire High Voltage album by AC/DC all rank up there.

2. Name two songs that always make you cry.
Very Good Year by Frank Sinatra. Cat's in the Cradle by Cat Stevens always does as well, even though I absolutely loathe the song and think it's self-indulgent crap. A runner-up is Haunted by the Ghost of Patty by Barcelona, I always get a little sniffly when it plays.

3. Name three songs that turn you on.
Melt with You by Modern English, Serenade by Roxy Music, and Hey, Hey by Led Zeppelin. That eclectic enough for you? Although listening to music in a companionable way with a special someone is more of a guaranteed turn-on than any particular song.

4. Name four songs that always make you feel good.
Avalon by Roxy Music (the entire Avalon album really), Running Down a Dream by Tom Petty, Hot by the Squirrel Nut Zippers, and Golden Years by David Bowie.

5. Name five songs you couldn't ever do without.
Hmm, this is a difficult one. My passions in music change on a steady basis. But if I have to pick five, probably Piece of My Heart by Janis Joplin, Possession by Sarah McLachlan (I don't care how overplayed it is), Mother of Pearl by Roxy Music, Small Blue Thing by Suzanne Vega and possibly Black and White by the Bellevue Cadillac.

Happy, happy day!

Yay, I have the day off tomorrow! No dysfunctional workplace!

Actually, today wasn't horrible, but it was very tiring. We went through our new database system and made notes about what we wanted changed. I typed it up, organized it, and sent it off to our database person.

I'd much rather do this than routine data entry or giving refunds, but I could sleep for a week.

Oh, and I also feel odd because I shopped at Old Navy for the first time and really enjoyed it. On one hand, I'm paying homage to the great corporate machine, representative of bland fashion and the suburban despoiling of America. On the other hand, I have nice inexpensive shirts and jeans that fit.

Plus, I loved my dressing room clerk and cashier. The clerk said to me as I brought in yet another pile of jeans to try on,

"You know, I don't like Old Navy jeans, they never fit me right. I always buy them at the GAP."

Pause.

"Guess I shouldn't be saying that?"

Hee!

The cashier was an attractive alterna-woman with very short hair and a lip piercing, and very pleasant to deal with. Wow. Not only was she cute and approximately my age, but her style wasn't frozen in the late eighties. So, not only did I get my sugared dose of pleasant corporate efficiency, but I felt like I'd temporarily left fusty, "nothing ever changes" Cape Cod and joined the twenty-first century.

Calling All Patriots

The latest spam from my Inbox says, "Satisfy Your Mate Once & For All - Make Your Soldier Stand & Salute!".