First, a clarification. I didn't buy the penguin chick and its icehouse yet, but that's because my money needs to go elsewhere at the moment. I've also got lots of plush--and cats, and Pandafix, and sometimes even L'Ailee. But, if you click the picture, you'll end up in the "Marine" section of the Fuzzytown catalog, which almost gave me sugar shock! I do plan on using them for the next little kid gift. I like animal toys that are cute but also have an element of realism to them.
People asked me how I enjoyed my "long weekend" today. I slept, actually. A lot. Probably slept more in three days than I have the past month. I'm not totally out of the woods yet--a bit hoarse, a bit headachy, still snuffling a little--but I feel SO much better. I needed that. Also, I finally got some exercise at the gym on Sunday! Belly-dancing Sunday, spinning today. Best, of course, is that L'Ailee actually KISSED me this morning! We may even sleep in the same bed tonight. It's torture to sleep apart from each other in the same house.
During my few waking moments, I thought about being queer, both as in woman-loving-woman and as in strange or different. This Saturday, we heard little girls on the street sing the theme to a show called the Buzz on Maggie. It is about a tweenage girl fly who lives in a buzzing suburb in the dump--yes, sounds awful, right? I've never watched more than two minutes of it. But the theme is great: "I'm strange, and I like it! It's just the way I am!"
L'Ailee used the one Disney Channel cartoon that I do watch, Lilo and Stitch, to cheer me up. "Don't let Mertles get you down," she said. "You don't want to please those people. You don't want to be a Hula Girl." Mertle is Lilo's mean and boring nemesis who's always bugging her because she's "weird"; the Hula Girls are the undifferentiated crowd of little girls from their hula class who just chorus, "Yeaaaaaahhh." And of course, she's right. Twice today, I looked at women who'd been bugging me and thought hard at them, "Shove off, Mertle!" Just having that absurd image in my head, of the snotty little girl performing a hula dance about "the simple joy of being better than all your friends", and applying it to these overgrown little mean girls helped a lot.
It's not even like there's all that many of them, online or in the real world. It's just that there are enough. Madonna said something once about how if someone boos her at her concerts, even if it's an arena of people cheering and smiling and holding up signs saying they love her, she'll obsess on who booed her and why. I can definitely relate to that. My mom's the same way. I just have to focus on the people who *aren't* booing, I guess. First I have to figure out how!
I also kept thinking about how being a woman who loves a woman affects things.
On Sunday, one of my straight female friends told me she used to worry about working out with gay or bi women, but she's noticed that we tend to be, if anything, more respectful of boundaries than other straight women. Those of you who've read my blog for a while (the "big buns of steel" story, L'Ailee's adventure with the locker room photographer) know that I've seen just how loose the boundaries can be. But it occurs to me, I think women are allowed to be curious about each other's bodies in this society. If we're queer, however, touching or looking at another woman just might *mean* something, at least to us! We also do have to contend with stupid stereotypes.
Also on Sunday, we went to Tar-jay to stock up, and we noticed a Tampax display advertising their new "fresh scent". That's fine, it's a product with a new feature. But they had these scent cards with protective film! And on the film was an invitation to "Smell the freshness". A young Hispanic guy spluttered that it smelled like "grandma perfume" and wondered why anyone would want "*that* to smell like *this*." I agreed. Besides, during Hell Week, ain't nobody going to get close enough to smell any scent on my tampons and pads, except maybe an uncontrolled dog. But when L'Ailee smelled one (after much coaxing from me) and *sneezed*, that was when the real fun started for me! I kept whispering naughty insights to her throughout the store and making her blush. I hope she never loses her blush--it's just the most fun to make it go off!
Lastly, I found out she subscribes to Lane Bryant's e-mail alerts when she showed me some lingerie that was on sale. Gods bless online shopping. Many women-with-women can buy their beloveds lingerie, and they're the same general size, so nobody thinks anything of it. But we get the strangest looks when we buy for each other. I wear a 38 C/D bra (depending on the manufacturer--of my bra, not my breasts) and size 18 clothing. She wears a 34 A bra and size 2 to 4 clothing. Ain't no way anyone thinks we're buying those lacy things for ourselves. And if she's going into a Lane Bryant...well, she's so CLEARLY not the target demographic! Hope I got something... :-)