The Republicans are coming!

Someone get a rag!

Representative Mark Foley (R-FL) came to his career climax last September for sending sexually explicit messages to "at least" one underage male page. Newsweek called it a slew of e-mails. Apparently his homosexuality was "the worst kept secret in Washington." The creepy old guy preying on young male pages. Not really homosexuality, really more of a pedophilia. Underage boys are off limits. How difficult is this, especially since he spoke out frequently against child-predators. Something about the lady protesting too much, Mark....

Ted Haggard came next in November 2006. Regularly chiming in to the Bush administration as an adviser of some sort, he first denied, then admitted, then denied, then denied part but admitted to some of the accusations that he had sex or a massage or something icky by a male prostitute that may or may not have involved crystal meth. What exactly were you advising the Bush administration to do Reverend Ted? Safe PnP? Of course he is "completely heterosexual now, so I suppose that means his wife is now having to put up with his crystal dick...

Senator David Vitter (R-LA) - On his website he promotes "advancing mainstream conservative principles." However, his name appeared on the list of clients of the "DC Madam" Deborah Jeane Palfrey. Despite apparently receiving forgiveness from God and his wife, his endorsement of Giuliani doesn't quite hold the conservative water it used to...as far as I'm concerned the fact that this guy liked women above the age of consent makes what he did only obnoxious and not repulsively criminal.

Representative Bob Allen (R-FL) - McCain's Florida campaign chairperson offered to perform oral sex on a plainclothes police officer in a public park restroom. He also offered $20 for the opportunity. The best part? I'm not joking now, on his government website it lists his interests as "watersports." Could the irony possibly get any thicker!!!? Longer!!!? Hotter!!!?

Yes! He is quoted in the Orlando Sentinel as saying that the event "is an ugly and unpleasant situation that has been thrust upon me and my family." He he. He said thrust. Also, Bob is the author of one "Lewd Or Lascivious Exhibition Act" which would have made public masturbation in the presence of another adult illegal, whether the other adult consented or not. (Hat tip to JoeMyGod.) Hmmmm. Doth protest much, Bob?

Meanwhile, in Nevada, the Chairman of the Clark County Republican Party, Glenn Murphy, Jr. resigned a month ago while being investigated for "alleged criminal deviate conduct" that occurred on July 31, 2007. He was accused by a 22 year old male of performing an unwanted sex act on him while he was sleeping. Murphy maintains the sex act was consensual. This may or may not be true, however, Murphy was investigated in 1998 for a similar unwanted sex act on a 21 year old. While he was sleeping...

This is starting to sound oddly familiar. Horny, repressed Republican can't seem to find legal, consensual ways to get rocks off so he sees an opportunity and takes advantage despite being caught 10 years earlier doing the same thing.

Senator Larry Craig (R-ID) - Oh, Larry... What can I say. You are last, but by no means least. I mean Christ on a cracker dude. What the hell were you thinking? I can't tell you how happy I am to hear you're not gay but I'm wondering about this peeking into bathroom stalls business. Just curious. Not to mention the previous investigations for the same crimes. What gives?

In all seriousness, one has to note the greater problem here. I'm not one to preach on sex (anymore), but I have to say that men hooking up...not a bad thing.

Hooking up in a bathroom where other people are just trying to have a pee between flights? Not so great. It's annoying to others, or so I hear. I've never had the pleasure of visiting a men's bathroom in an airport, but seriously, I can't think of less sanitary, smellier place. Maybe in the NYC subway system, but I think they've closed all the restrooms there.

Hooking up in a bathroom while voting against everything that gives people who do what you want to do out in the open. Really fucking repulsive. Not to mention, stupid.

There have been plenty o' sex scandals in among the Dems (do I really need to list them all?), but the Democratic party isn't calling themselves the Conservative Values party. They're not pining for courtrooms to have copies of the 10 Commandments or voting for amendments to ban same sex marriages (for the most part). This hypocrisy is what makes this so easy (and fun) to trot out on the late night TV shows.

Get your freak on guys. But if you weren't hiding your freak, you wouldn't be getting busted for it. Just sayin'.

The revolution will be accessorized.

I do love me a community. It's not so much that I'm a joiner, as much as I love finding other people as nutty as I am. It makes me feel so much less nutty.

I've got my:

• bikers
• Jews
• Queers
• Knittas (and other crafters)
• Elitist intellectual left coasters (mostly code for Jews)
  
• and on and on

Without really knowing it, I've joined a new community. PT Cruiser owners.

There are clubs. There are magazines. There are cruises. There are tons of aftermarket accessories. And you know how I do love my accessories.

Here are some samples of what I might be doing to my PT.















Hmmm. I wonder if she wants flames?

Pretty Things

I newly procured transportation this weekend.

It is pretty tremendous. Some people try to name their cars.

I don't pretend that I am a prescribing type.

I am positively thrilled with my choice and I have plans to profoundly trick it out to fit with my personality, typically.

Ponder this.

A prize to the first person that has a precise theory of my new vehicle.

If you were previously told what I purchased, then no fair cheating, please and thank you!


xo
Faith

(OK, a hint. People, think! Prodigious tips are included in this post.)

Oops! Forgot to say what the prize was!

Prize o' the day: A copy of Swell: A Girl's Guide to the Good Life by Cynthia Rowley and a few swellegant home items! Swell!

Notes from the couch

First, I want to thank everyone for your thoughts and good wishes. I am so appreciative!

Second: realization. Wow. Being laid up is very hard for me.

Around some parts I am known to be quite the control queen. No, really.

I am crocheting like a mad woman but I never realized how much I like to do in a day and how much of it involves getting up and going.

I am not a fan of daytime television. So I have been mostly sitting in silence.

I'd love to go run some errands.

I'd love to water my lawns. (I don't have a sprinkler system)

I'd love to organize my craft room.

All of these activities involve work that my right side is just not ready to handle.

Seriously, my right boob looks like it was used as a punching bag. Gross.

I am learning how to give myself time to heal.

When I had my accident in Alaska (short version - Ford explorer, tire burst, car flipped over, hand crushed). I went back to work on drugs about a week and a half after the accident. I was determined to show everyone how strong I was. I'm not so determined right now but it is hard to just rest.

It's not in my nature. I'm much more likely to suck it up and show what a trooper I am.

So it's another one of those learning opportunities. Great. Just what I needed.

I'm learning. Slowly.

the good, the bad and the ugly

The good: I'm getting a new car!

The bad: My brakes failed on the 405 freeway at 35 miles per hour.

The ugly: I have an extremely bruised rib cage and can't take a deep breath. My car is totaled and my chest looks like it has been used as a punching bag.

Otherwise I'm ok and the person I ran into is ok as well. I'm so thankful. I just had my master brake cylinder replaced about 5 weeks ago and it completely failed. I actually had enough time before hitting the car in front of me to pull up on the emergency brake put the car in park and turn the car off. Yikes.

I'm on drugs and feeling a little pain. Just what I wanted to do with my Thursday. Spend half of it on the side of the 405 and the other half in the ER.

Lovely.

Today on Jewdar

I have written before about the Oedipus Motorcycle Club, the second oldest gay motorcycle club in the world, founded in 1958.

I am an associate member of the club (as I do not ride my own bike and can't be a full member). I love these guys. They welcomed me warmly on my very first ride.

Anyway, I was looking at some of the referrals to That is so queer... and someone found me by searching "jewish motorcycle gang".

There are Jewish motorcycle gangs?

I know! I was surprised myself.

I don't know why, as I am an associate member of a gay motorcycle gang and my rabbi growing up rode a Harley (a malfunction of which caused him to be two hours late to officiating at my sister's wedding - damn Harleys).

Here are a few of the actual names of the Jewish motorcycle gangs (or clubs if you prefer...)

Chai Riders
Hillel's Angels
King David Motorcycle Club
Yidden on Wheels
Chaiway Riders
The Tribe
and my favorite...
SOBs (Semites on bikes)

Just made me laugh this morning!

Oh yeah! Also, tonight I'll be going in for more ink!

I love a day of Stewed, Tattooed and Hebrewed!!!

The smell of a meme on a Friday morning

I love a good meme on a Friday morning. I also love Spinning Girl who did it before me and left a message (I dig you too...)

Anyway, enough with the mutual admiration and on to the meme.


A
Always: Be prepared. Still such a girl scout. Actually, if I'm not prepared I'm totally flustered. Great. Another thing to work on...
Average:Not if I can help it.
Age: Physical -- 36. Mental -- Some days 8, other days 61.

B
Beer: Liquid bread. Still don't like it. You'd think I would.
Birthday: 12/23
Boast: I can eat fire. Seriously. I learned at a Lesbian Nation rally in NYC. Also, I have an incredibly high tolerance for pain. One is not required for the other.

C
Crush: Anyone with above average intelligence. Especially Stephen Lewis.
Car: Currently a very sturdy 1995 Honda Civic - sometime soon, a blinged out 2007 Toyota Prius
Cry: Spent an entire year doing it daily. Nickname: "weepy wife". Much better now.

D
Days:Spent in my garden and in my craft room are the best days ever.
Dream:To be content.
Dare: to be naive. My favorite quote (buckminster fuller).
Drug: I've done a few. OK, maybe more than a few. Was mostly finished by the time I entered college. "High" school was very.

E
Eggs: Mine: Withered like the barren woman I am. Salad: Yum.
Email: I love it. I check it a lot. Send me an email.
Envy: Happy people with self-control.

F
Flavors: Right now I'm into savory. I could eat half a cow right now. Gross.
Favorites: P!NK, moroccan blue, Michael Levine, pineapple.
Flaws: Do we really want to go there? I've got some. Don't we all.
Finicky:Not really. I'm a chameleon. I can adapt to just about any situation. Should probably be a little more finicky actually.

G
Grateful: I am eternally grateful for my intelligence and that I didn't ruin it with the drugs (see above).
Gifts: Diplomacy.
Gum: That new Mojito gum is freakin' awesome. I don't remember who makes it but I love it.
Gross: Bugs in places they shouldn't be, like inside my house.

H
Hair: Shave it all off, dye it a darker shade or let it grow naturally and just deal?
Height: I could use another inch or two but I'm tall enough to be among the tallest women in the room.
Happiest: I'm like a kid at the toy store these days when I see a new veggie growing in my garden. Accomplishment makes me ecstatic.
Hate: is a very strong word. Unfortunately, I have opportunity to use it honestly.

I
Ice Cream: No sugar added. Not as bad as you might think.
Instrument: Played the drums in junior high. Learned the theme from Dallas. I can still do it.
Idols: People who use what they have to make the world a better place for others to live.
Independence: Abso-freakin'-lutely.

J
Jewelry: One silver ring. Two diamond studs. Once in a while I get a wild hair up my ass and put on a necklace or a pin...Or a tiara.
Jail: Been there, done that, foreign country. Hated it.
Jammies: kitschy, plaid, flannel. YUMMY!

K
Kids: None of my own - I'm barren, remember? Nieces and nephews, both blood related and not, galore.
Karaoke: Saw my brother-in-law do Crazy Train. My eardrums and eyeballs have not been the same since.
Kicks: Coffee. So much coffee.

L
Love: My husband. For sticking it out. For being willing to grow. For being the man he is.
Life: Learning to really live it. Finally!
Lost: Sometimes.

M
Milk: Lactose intolerant.
Miss: Yeth?
Movies: Not as into them as most people. I see about one a year. This year it was the Bourne Ultimatum. Last year, Walk the Line.
Memory: Sketchy. Probably all the drugs.

N
Nails: NEED A PEDICURE! Badly. It's a real problem.
No: A word I could use more often.
Name: Was supposed to be Manon but my grandmother forbade my mother from naming me that. It's my middle name. I wish it had been my first name, honestly.
Never: Take a job I don't want, ever, ever again.

O
Ordinary: Shoe size.
One: Day at a time.
Office: Corner with windows. Seriously. I'm a very, very lucky girl.
Only: one time around.

P
Pet Peeves: Mean people. I don't understand it.
Primal urge: To scream at mean people.
Personality: Strong.
Pain: Yes, but getting better.

Q
Quick: to laugh
Quirk: Paper rolling. I leave a trail of straw wrappers and magazine blow ins behind me. If you ever find a little rolled up piece of paper, it was probably me.
Qualms: Going back to school.
Quest: To be the best wife to my husband, the best aunt to my niece, the best friend to myself.

R
Reason to ...: Be thankful. All of the incredible support I have around me.
Reality TV: Seriously dislike, sign of apocalypse. Except Project Runway.
Rage: Haven't gotten to it yet. It's sitting below the surface and it ain't pretty.
Regret: I've had a few.

S
Season: Autumn. The colors, the weather, the clothes I get to wear, the holidays. It's all good.
Shoes: Not if I don't have to. I love being barefoot, otherwise I'm really into these shoes from the Walking Store. Super comfy.
Silly: I'm trying. Hard. (heh heh, I said hard)

T
Tattoos: Ah yes...I loves me my ink.
Time: Is precious. I am working on using less of it procrastinating.
Ticklish: Don't even try it.
Taste: Arts & Crafts. Simple. Clean.
Torment: That I'm not addicted to exercise. I love it once I've done it but doing it...

U
Undress: To shower.
Unpredictable: Once in a while I will catch y'all unaware, but mostly I'm pretty predictable.
Unfortunate: Some of my learned behaviors.
Unforgettable: The day Jeff died, the day we got married, the day we moved into our house.

V
Vegetables: Zucchini. So much zucchini.
Virgin: Airlines?
Vacation: Grand Canyon. November. Can't wait.
Voice: A little lispy. But powerful nevertheless.

W
Worst Habit: Negative self-talk
Wish: To be a stronger woman, physically and mentally
Waste: I have a genetic aversion to it, which may come from Depression mentality and the fact that we have a hoarder in my family. It's another one of those things I'm working on. E-bay and Amazon have actually been my saving grace. I sell a lot more than I buy.
Wander: 40th birthday is my wandering birthday. Michael and me. An RV and weeks to go wherever the roads take us.

X
X-Rated: My life.
X-Rays: Too many to count.
X-marks the spot: Some day I want to find a treasure. It's a little fantasy of mine. Like I'll find a ring buried in our backyard...It could happen!

Y
Year born: 1970
Yes: to finally learning how to ride a motorcycle.
Yellow: My room growing up. Yuck.
Yearn: To be a better knitter and seamstress.

Z
Zodiac: Capricorn
Zealous: about journaling. I keep it with me constantly and I write whenever I have opportunity. It keeps me honest and keeps me from ruminating.
Zzzz: Sleep is wonderful.

Queer Jewess, dissected

Last Friday, August 3, one of the contributors at Jewesses with Attitude wrote:

"If you didn't grow up in a time when being labeled a queer Jewess was painfully derogatory, I suppose there is nothing personally off-putting about the shidduch of these words, though I'm curious what Lillian Wald or Rose Schneiderman would think if they knew people today were using queer Jewess as an out-and-proud, self-ascribed celebration of identity."

And the words, "Queer Jewess", were linked to this here little blog. I feel like I have a responsibility to further clarify my position on these words, not to mention this label as a whole.

I will note first that I did not choose either of these descriptives carelessly.

Jewess
The first time I was called a "Jewess" I was damn near mortified. The person did not mean it as an insult but I was shocked (shocked!) that he would use such a word. It seemed so antiquated and though I don't know that I had even heard the word, I assumed it was an insult, like negress. A word I had read in books written by Eliot and Dickens and Verne and Stevenson (by the way, if you take a peek around the net, you will find that there are a number of black women taking "negress" back as well)

It was more than 15 years later that I started identifying with "Jewess".

"Jewish" is a religion, a people and a culture. It is an umbrella descriptor of the entire mass of us, Ashkenazim and Sefardim, Israeli, Argentinian, Ethiopian and American, female and male, alike. I can say, I am Jewish and it usually means I was either born a Jew or converted, I am practicing or not. It is only mildly descriptive relative to other terms.

"Jewess" feels like it puts me in a league (if I may be so bold) with biblical Judith and Lillian Wald and Rose Schneiderman. It is a word that is evocative of all the Jewish women making waves in our history and today. It adds me to the growing horde of women from secular to Orthodox who affiliate themselves with "Jewess." "Jewess," shelters me under one umbrella while providing me with a home that feels more exclusive, and yet, exclusive for all the right reasons.

Queer
I was 19 years old and just had started kissing girls (other than once in high school - and that was {mostly} to freak out my boyfriend) when Queer Nation was founded. I was already an active member of ACT/UP L.A. and Queer Nation was really just the same group of angry, funny, jaded, tired, sick and catty activists.

The term "queer" stuck and has only become more accurate as I get older. I am unquestionably not straight, though I am married to a man. I am not convincingly a lesbian, as I don't have sex with women (or anyone else for that matter - a subject for a later post). I don't identify with any of the multitudes of "lesbian communities" out there. Notice, in person and in print, I will never call myself a lesbian. Queer is far more appropriate.

From the American Heritage Dictionary
queer
adj. queer·er, queer·est

1. Deviating from the expected or normal; strange: a queer situation.
2. Odd or unconventional, as in behavior; eccentric. See Synonyms at strange.
3. Of a questionable nature or character; suspicious.

These definitions, I identify with. I deviate from the expected. I seem to be a bit unconventional and I am most certainly of a questionable nature.

I am an eccentric, Jewish woman of questionable nature who makes waves.

I am a queer Jewess.

On Solitude

Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self. - May Sarton

This weekend I made my annual vacation plans. I am going back to the Grand Canyon, a place of such beauty and silence it is overwhelming.

There is something special about the Grand Canyon. It is in both the synthetic and the natural of the place that makes me go back year after year. When I am there, I need nothing. I am remember the joy of simplicity and yet I have what I consider abundance.

I stay at a the cabins because they are comfortable and separate from the hotels and the few other visitors there for the winter. It also feels more like solitude than being in the Lodge which, though beautiful and also simple, is not the same, almost cloistered, experience.

The cabins host a bed, an armchair, a desk with a writing lamp and chair, a wardrobe and a full bathroom. There are maybe two paintings of the Canyon on the walls. There is a baseboard heating unit. That is all. They are all designed in the simple Arts and Crafts style.

They are neither ascetic nor luxurious.

There are natural gas powered buses that circle the park throughout the day starting before sunrise and ending at night. Once I park my car, there is no reason to move it as long as I am in the park.

At sunrise people gather with hot cups of coffee and cameras throughout the park to watch the sun rise. It is my favorite time of the day. There is no loud talking, only the click of a few remaining 35 mm cameras.

When I visit the Canyon, I will hike out onto a solitary rock where the average tourist does not dare trek. If one is given to vertigo, the paths I take are distressing at best and dangerous at worst.

I travel with my backpack loaded down: a journal, a book, knitting, camera, water and snacks. If it is not terribly windy or snowing, I can sit on the rock for hours, my bare feet dangling over the canyon walls, watching the sun make patterns on various features of the canyon, seeing trees in new ways, watching rock formations that seem created.

When I eat breakfast, I eat alone in the little hotel restaurant. When I am in the Canyon, it is the only time I don't mind eating alone in public. I take my journal and note the other visitors. The two couples together who are traveling across the country, the German tourists preparing for the hike into the canyon for the night, the family with children who will only remember the canyon as somewhere their parents dragged them and not much else.

I'll usually make lunch from provisions in the little market that supplies everything from parkas to marshmallows to decent produce. For dinner, it is so black ink dark in the canyon that I will pick up dinner from the hotel and take it back to my room before I cannot see as I am almost completely night blind and it becomes fairly dangerous.

It is a 7 hour drive to get to my retreat where there is no cell phone access, no internet access. It feels good to be away from communication for 5 days. It feels good to talk little and be observant.

I saw my first snowflakes and completed my only solo 11 mile hike at the Grand Canyon (despite passing one couple who looked pretty athletic and used to this type of thing being fairly concerned for my safety).

On one trip to the Canyon, I nearly returned with a shaved head but the barbershop in the nearest town had closed. I don't think that will happen this year, however, I have found that returning home from these little monastic adventures, I am more focused. I breathe more deeply and appreciate simplicity.

I appreciate the serenity, being responsible to no one but myself, speaking only to order a meal and say thank you to the bus drivers.

By the way, if you are thinking of going to the Canyon and need resources or have questions, don't hesitate to email me.

One enigma, hold the secret sauce

I LOVE to see how people find me. Where they came from, where they're going. It's totally fascinating.

The way that people find this blog feels a little like my marriage - a bucket of contradictions that all work out to make a beautiful piece of art.

Some of my favorite searches from this week include:

• sterile childless spinster - I don't think I was exactly what they were looking for. I'm just guessing here...
  
• Tisha b'Av and bar exam - ugh - I'd hate to be taking the bar on Tisha b'Av. That's just a bad omen all around.
• Raising vaginal pH levels - I get a lot of this. It seems that people are very curious about the pH of the vagina. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I'm damn sure it is as it should be and we shouldn't be raising or lowering it all willy nilly!
  
• biker chicks - My favorite! I was watching a History Channel documentary on the Hell's Angels last night - It made me want to wear my Oedipus shirt to work this morning though I didn't think it was particularly appropriate. And I am, if nothing else the arbiter of appropriateness. On our last ride I got a patch that I'm going to have to sew onto something. Maybe my jean jacket. Damn it if I don't just love my motorcycle gang. Those guys are awesome and in August they're all coming out to my place for a big BBQ. I swear I'm going to take the damn motorcycle safety course this year because I'll be damned if I'm going to sit on the bitch seat forever - although I also have to say, you can't really take pictures when you're the rider.
  
• cool gay porn - as opposed to what? Dorky gay porn?
  
• What does snorting limes do? I have no freakin' idea! Why are you snorting limes? How would that even occur to someone? Do you grind them down into a powder? Are you trying for a deviated septum? Does coke not do it fast enough? Weirdoes!

Anyway, that's my Friday post. I have some lined up for next week so...same bat channel people!

Woof.

I love San Francisco.

I'm not a huge fan of the fact that there is not one decent deli in the entire city, the liquefaction under every street just waiting for the next temblor to collapse into the bay, the vast homeless population, the cramped living situations, the overtly corrupt politics or even most of the severely overpriced hotels but when it comes to a prevention campaign, San Francisco has it all over any other city.

I've discussed two previous campaigns, the first, Phil the syphilis sore and healthy penis and then the Hot Sex campaign.

The latest campaign is appealing to gay men and their dogs.

That's right. Their dogs.

That's not a codeword for something else.

I really do mean their puppies!...mutts!....on leashes!.....with tails!

OK, seriously canines!

First ad: So many crotches, so little time.

Also, check out the cute little leather pugs in their logo.

I love San Francisco.