Quote from: Claire de Lune on August 11, 2008, 12:04:01 PM

Quote from: PolarBear on August 11, 2008, 07:10:55 AM

Quote from: Claire de Lune on August 10, 2008, 10:52:03 PM
Personally, I wouldn't be caught dead sleeping in the woods with a bunch of granola-bar-dykes.  It would be nice to have the option though.

And I, personally, find this quite offensive. What exactly is wrong with "granola-bar-dykes"?

Let me clarify something.  Where I live "dyke" is not a pejorative.  Neither is "queer".  My lesbian friends (lipstick variety) use the term all the time as an adjective.  I also have lesbian friends that are kind of crunchy and wear Birkenstocks.  I just don't want to sleep on the ground with them.  Tekla, if you think the town is over run with granola types I'd suggest you check out The Lex or most anyplace else in the Valencia to Dolores corridor.

Got ya. No worries then.
I don't know if I know any crunchy dykes though 

PolarBear, who loves to sleep on the ground, as long as there is a tent around him. (And a mattress under him  )

Quote from: Claire de Lune on August 11, 2008, 10:16:28 AM

As do I,  Preferrably in the breakfast bar at a posh hotel.  The Starbucks's Parfaitt is a regular on-the-go breakfast for me too.  Granola bar dykes are fine with me...so long as they stay in Berkeley where they belong!


1.    granola dyke    

A lesbian of the birkenstocks-wearing, tofu-eating, folk music-loving, "earthy crunchy" hippie variety. Often seen with an acoustic guitar.

"Susie's last girlfriend was a dreadlocked granola dyke named Crystal Windwomyn. "

Never allow it to ever, ever be said that Claire moderates her commentary to suit anyone else's feelings.

But, really, in the breakfast bar at a posh hotel!!  >

Isn't there something about this that suggests ummm. no way to say it nicely, so I better let everyone just imagine what I might have been saying.

Diff'rent strokes.

Claire prefers waking up in a posh hotel; I prefer waking up with a sea-breeze blowing across me and my partner's warmth next to me in the bed.

She, perhaps, prefers Italian 4 inch stilettos; I prefer Birkenstocks.

Thing is, I also like to deck myself out when it's necessary and "posh hotel" is only someplace I'd be going for a cocktail party during a conference.

Dykes are what we are. Like TSes, we seldom all fit into one neat package all done up with stereotypes. Come to think it, I cannot think of any group that does.

Nichole

Quote from: Nichole on August 11, 2008, 01:04:40 PM

Quote from: Claire de Lune on August 11, 2008, 10:16:28 AM

As do I,  Preferrably in the breakfast bar at a posh hotel.  The Starbucks's Parfaitt is a regular on-the-go breakfast for me too.  Granola bar dykes are fine with me...so long as they stay in Berkeley where they belong!


1.    granola dyke    

A lesbian of the birkenstocks-wearing, tofu-eating, folk music-loving, "earthy crunchy" hippie variety. Often seen with an acoustic guitar.

"Susie's last girlfriend was a dreadlocked granola dyke named Crystal Windwomyn. "

Never allow it to ever, ever be said that Claire moderates her commentary to suit anyone else's feelings.

But, really, in the breakfast bar at a posh hotel!!  >

Isn't there something about this that suggests ummm. no way to say it nicely, so I better let everyone just imagine what I might have been saying.

Diff'rent strokes.

Claire prefers waking up in a posh hotel; I prefer waking up with a sea-breeze blowing across me and my partner's warmth next to me in the bed.

She, perhaps, prefers Italian 4 inch stilettos; I prefer Birkenstocks.

Thing is, I also like to deck myself out when it's necessary and "posh hotel" is only someplace I'd be going for a cocktail party during a conference.

Dykes are what we are. Like TSes, we seldom all fit into one neat package all done up with stereotypes. Come to think it, I cannot think of any group that does.

Nichole

Nichole, dahling, I don't reject things wihout examination.

I've hitch-hiked across the desert, I've flown above it in first-class
I've slept in a cave, I've stayed at the Camelback Inn.
I've dined at truck stops, I've had dinner at Spago with the stars

Most of my life has been lived between these extremes.  Four inch heels may carry me for a night on the town but flats that look like ballet slippers are what I wear most other places.

like a lot of girls, I like nice things and I make no apology for it.  Like the song says:

"You see, ya can't please everyone
So ya got to please yourself"

Ricky Nalson



BTW, I'd still sleep outside on a starlit moonless night in Joshua Tree National Park



Now Playing: Candle for Claire, Alisa Fineman

of course, Ricky spells it "Nelson".  And died doing freebase.  Oh well.

Indeed he did. Indeed he was right. Better to be one's self.

If that causes another to cringe or laud the merits of the penthouse at The Mark and awakening with that view -- so be it. OTH, if I wanna eat granola and wear birks -- good for me.

I like nice things and I make no apology for it. So do I, smooth and soft things, like a coyote's bark at midnight on a beach in eastern Massachusetts just as the moon sets beneath the sea and the wind whips my hair. Yep, birkies and a pair of slacks and a poncho as well. One dresses both in what's comfortable and in what she likes. One fits herself to where she is -- otherwise she may well lose herself.

Trust me, Claire, were I into making cookie-cutter women of any of us, I'd have begun trying way before today.

We have things that we care for and other things we do not. The point is stereotypes. They tend to be monotypes & truly not descriptive of a lot.

N~

Not a few people have woke up in that suite at the Mark and put their birks on, went out on the balcony and smoked a big spliff too - though most rock bands prefer the Intercontinental - though there real rich ones, like Bob Dylan and Bono like the Stanford Court and the Clift, knowing as all real San Francisco types do, that the Mark and the Fairmont are pretty much just for tourists.  Though being a real, real San Franciscian, I like The Palace.  I get the room where Enrico Caruso was in 1906 on the night of the big quake, but that's just me.  On a good night I like the dunes out on Ocean Beach.  Waking up to sunrise on the Pacific and a good cup at Java Beach is better than even the Clift.


There are a lot of Wooks^* down there in that area, else wise how would the would be, psudo hipster yuppies know how cool they are to be there?  Granted there used to be more (and more artists and working class people too) until the yuppie scum drove the real estate deal to surreal levels and forced them to go elsewhere.

The Mission, used to be that way, was back in the early 80s when I raised my kids at Gurrereo and 26, its not much that way anymore.  Still the Lex has its share of white girls with dreadlocks and braidable armpits mixing with the biker mamas and lipstick (well I have to keep my corporate job you know) lesbians.


* Short for Wookie, because they tend to look (and smell) a lot like Chewbacca.

Quote from: tekla on August 11, 2008, 02:17:09 PM
of course, Ricky spells it "Nelson".  And died doing freebase.  Oh well.

Does that somehow negate his life and accomplishments?  His music?
It's not even true.

Quote from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ricky_Nelson#DeathDeath

In 1985, Nelson joined a nostalgia rock tour of England. It was a major success, and it revived some interest in his work. He tried to duplicate that effect in the United States, and he began a tour of the South. Nelson and his band boarded a plane after a show at a small club in Guntersville, Alabama headed to a New Year's Eve concert in Dallas, Texas. The plane crashed in De Kalb, Texas killing Nelson and six others. Nelson was buried in the Forest Lawn, Hollywood Hills Cemetery in Los Angeles, California. The last song he sang on stage before his death was Buddy Holly's "Rave On". Holly had also perished in a plane crash.


Crash

Rumors that drug use among the passengers caused the crash frequently resurface, but the original NTSB investigation long ago stated that the crash was probably due to mechanical problems. The pilots attempted to land in a field after smoke filled the cabin. An examination indicated that a fire originated in the right hand side of the aft cabin area at or near the floor line. The passengers were killed when the aircraft struck obstacles during the forced landing; the pilots were able to escape through the cockpit windows and survived. The ignition and fuel sources of the fire could not be determined, although many believe that the most likely cause was a defective cabin heater. The pilot indicated that the crew tried to turn on the gasoline cabin heater repeatedly shortly before the fire occurred, but that it failed to respond. After the fire, the access panel to the heater compartment was found unlatched. The theory is supported by records that showed that DC-3s in general, and this aircraft in particular, had a previous history of problems with the cabin heaters.

Well I hope you take all other government work with the same expressed belief in truth.  Like 9-11 was all done by less than 20 guys armed only with boxcutters.

I worked a lot of shows with RN.  I know what freebase smells like.  It smelled a lot like his dressing room.  In a cabin under pressure it can have explosive effects.

Though that's not the worst part of his life.  It was having to play the "little ricky nelson" role night after night, for a bunch of old women - icck.  Too bad for him that his fans could never let him grow up, he wasn't half bad on his own.

The truth of whether or not there was freebase involved isn't clearly "debunked" by that, Claire. Too bad Pryor is dead, he might be able to chat about the dangers of freebase being inflammable!!

Whatever killed Ricky was hardly the point though, or was it? I thought the point was being accepted for whom someone is, not for what she wears, how he dies, whether or not they waken in penthouses at any hotel or none.

I love the way the arguments you involve yourself in have this lovely habit of becoming arguments about something else, and something else and something else. A peripatetic ramble through one's mind!

Never a dull moment. 

Nichole

The Douglas DC-3 doesn't have a pressurized cabin.

But freebase is inflammable, regardless.

Oh you little white girl you, you freebase with diethyl ether which is not close to inflammable, it's explosive near almost any heat, and you need a good torch to freebase (so I'm told, I've never done it, not that I would admit).


Ask Richard Pryor how in-flammable it is.

Tekla, you little white man you, look up the word "inflammable." It doesn't mean what you think.

Nevermind, I'll do it for you, maybe you'll remember the embarrassment of not knowing and will get it right next time. 



Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) - Cite This Source - Share This
in·flam·ma·ble      Audio Help   [in-flam-uh-buhl] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–adjective
1.   capable of being set on fire; combustible; flammable.
2.   easily aroused or excited, as to passion or anger; irascible: an inflammable disposition.
–noun
3.   something inflammable.
[Origin: 1595–1605; < ML inflammābilis, equiv. to L inflammā(re) to inflame + -bilis -ble]

—Related forms
in·flam·ma·bil·i·ty, in·flam·ma·ble·ness, noun
in·flam·ma·bly, adverb

—Synonyms 2. fiery, volatile, choleric.
—Usage note Inflammable and flammable both mean "combustible." Inflammable is the older by about 200 years. Flammable now has certain technical uses, particularly as a warning on vehicles carrying combustible materials, because of a belief that some might interpret the intensive prefix in- of inflammable as a negative prefix and thus think the word means "noncombustible." Inflammable is the word more usually used in nontechnical and figurative contexts: The speaker ignited the inflammable emotions of the crowd.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.
Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.
inflammable

To learn more about inflammable visit Britannica.com

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American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source - Share This
in·flam·ma·ble      Audio Help   (ĭn-flām'ə-bəl)  Pronunciation Key 
adj. 
Easily ignited and capable of burning rapidly; flammable. See Usage Note at flammable.
Quickly or easily aroused to strong emotion; excitable.


[Middle English, liable to inflammation, from Medieval Latin īnflammābilis, from Latin īnflammāre, to inflame; see inflame.]

in·flam'ma·bil'i·ty n., in·flam'ma·ble n., in·flam'ma·bly adv.
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The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
Copyright © 2006 by Houghton Mifflin Company.
Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.
WordNet - Cite This Source - Share This
inflammable

adjective
easily ignited [syn: flammable]

WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.
Kernerman English Multilingual Dictionary - Cite This Source - Share This
inflammable [inˈflӕməbl] adjective
easily set on fire
Example: Paper is highly inflammable.


Nichole

Hey, I'm not that little.  At least around the waist and wrists.  And either way, playing with that stuff, with a blowtorch around, is not a good idea on an airplane, but what choice did he have?  The dressing room after the show was filled with every middleaged to old housewife around wanting their picture taken with little ricky.  It was like Dante's 9th ring of hell for him I'm sure.

Poor old Ricky died just like Jerry did, a victim of his own fans.  And a victim of his own success.  They both tried very hard to change.  But were not allowed to.  Like Jerry sang:

Rich man step on my poor head,
When you get back you better butter my bread.

He had way, way too many people who expected him to butter their bread, but like Rick once sang

If you gotta play at garden parties, I wish you a lotta luck
But if memories were all I sang, I rather drive a truck

A choice he should have taken.

Not that little!! That's not what .... Nevermind, enough is enough and that would be too much. > I'll refrain!! 

Perhaps it's our age differences, vast as they are, ya know. 

I recall all those "Inflammable" warnings before the lawyers decided poor illiterates might get the wrong idea and explode their aircrafts or such-like things!  >

Nichole

Back on the original topic, I find it UNBELIEVABLY OFFENSIVE that trans-men are allowed and trans-women aren't. That can only mean that they (the organizers) are of the opinion that you ARE the sex you are born as and your gender is inexorably linked to your sex at birth. They deny the very existence of gender variation.

In that  light, I would never have anything to do with them and would have nothing to do with anyone who supports them. They are as bigoted as 'the Christian right' but they add the extra insult of doing to others what they claim has been done to them. That is morally repugnant!

I agree, Jane. Now that we are back to the topic. Why push to be that included? And that, indeed, is exactly the argument. You can read Julia's essay if you wish, but the comments are very instructive: "this could not possibly be true as it would make moot everything we have theorized about gender being a total construct. Therefore, it is all hogwash!"

Nichole

A lot of real intelligence at work in the second-wave camp these days as well!

Quote from: Claire de Lune on August 11, 2008, 10:16:28 AM

From Urban Dictionary

1.    granola dyke    

A lesbian of the birkenstocks-wearing, tofu-eating, folk music-loving, "earthy crunchy" hippie variety. Often seen with an acoustic guitar.

Hmmm, I eat granola, tofu and play folk music for a living... and I wear wrap skirts and sometimes birks too. 

This thread has sure taken some interesting turns since i posted this morning

Unfortunately, MWMF policy on transpeople hasn't changed since I was at Camp Trans in 1994.

Z

Nor should that policy change.  Its a private event, on private property, they ought to be free to do as they wish.

i don't think it's very friendly.

but, there are a lot things feminists do that aren't very friendly. they create an organization because they were bullied and excluded, and now they often bully and exclude. *sigh*

well? who wants to go and hang out with a bunch of people who don't want you around? that's sort of counter-intuitive to the way hanging out works.

-Ell