Recently, some friends and I were discussing my trip to Maine in August. We're flying into Providence, RI and will be driving up the coastline. The new lesbian at the table said, "You must go to Provincetown, MA if you've never been. It's the one place in the world where you feel totally open and accepted for who you are."
I've heard of P-town over and over from lesbian friends through the years, but frankly, it's never appealed to me. She went on to say that you can walk around holding hands, kiss in public, etc. It's perfectly fine to be as gay as you want to be.
Here's the problem, I already feel accepted. I've never NOT felt accepted.
I'm a lesbian. I'm WAY overweight.
Do I define myself by these things? No.
I don't try to pass as straight, nor do I fly a big rainbow flag everywhere I go. I just try to be who I am. If it comes up in conversation that I'm a lesbian, fine. If not, fine. If you have a question about my lifestyle, you're always welcome to ask. Many have. I answered.
I bring my girlfriend to family gatherings, but I don't address her as my lesbian lover. I talk about her openly and the things we do, but I don't rub your face in the fact that we sleep together.
I don't notice straight people gushing about their last romantic episode or calling each other "lover" constantly.
So why do we think we have to?
I think I will affect many more people by just being me and talking to them one on one about who I am than the flag wavers ever will. I think it turns people off to be forced to take us.
That's why I'm a Real Live Lesbian, in case you ever wondered. It's not all about the sex. I have friends and family, just like straight people. I I love to travel to faraway places. I lift heavy weights with a bunch of guys. I like to bike. I'm girly. I love concerts. Food. My rotties. I have a mortgage. A car that occasionally gets smashed in the parking lot while I'm getting my nails done and nobody tells me. I have a life, just like you.
If you're wondering if we all look like the girls in the porn flicks, we don't. Fact is, I'm probably just like someone you know. You just don't know that she sleeps with another woman.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Someone forwarded these photos to MY MOTHER! Egads!
I must say, I am incredibly impressed. There are some amazing artists in this world. Just look at how cleverly they've disguised her nipples!
And that camo! I can barely see her. That one on the right below has that, "What can you do for me to make me give you a BJ" look about her, doesn't she?
It's enough to make me want to become an airbrush artist.
Dontcha love those shiny buttons?
I'm sure most of the troops would approve.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Claudia over at cook eat FRET just had her drawing for the Nashville Scene's Iron Fork.
I didn't win.
I've been fortunate lately. A trip to South America from my mother. I won Tango Lessons last week. Great friends that take me to the CMT Awards. The world's best girlfriend who loves me even though I can be a hormonal raging ass. (Trust me. It's so bad even *I* am starting to notice. I got me some of those pills now, so I'm feeling better.)
This afternoon, I received an email from Claudia, the Hottest Blonde in Nashville that said:
"you win the contest too! but not really - but you get to go anyway - really!
just because you're YOU"
How does she know I'm me? I dunno. But I'm glad that she does.
You know how you "meet" someone online and you just think that they're the cat's meow?
I immediately thought so of Claudia. I commented on her blog and she wrote me back. Offered help with cooking/recipe stuff. Just sweet. I can't wait to meet her. She seems so genuine.
It looks as though lately, I'm the Lucky Bitch. Which reminds me, I need to go to the post office.
Monday, April 21, 2008
I know that I'm fortunate. Lucky, even. But there's something that I really want to win. Tickets to Nashville Scene's Iron Fork.
Claudia over at cook eat FRET has acquired tickets and is giving them away. If you're local, head on over and join in the begging fray. Not that we can't just go buy some, but there's that whole "Hey, I'm a WINNER!" thing that elevates one so. And it's not some lame number generator kind of thing. Claudia's actually CHOOSING the winner since she is all powerful and holds the tickets.
I found her blog during my recent foray into wanting to make Chocolate Mole sauce, of which my girl and I, are huge fans. I read The Recipe. Guajillo? Mexican cinnamon? Plumping raisins. Toasting seeds and nuts of all sorts. Cheese 'n Rice, this woman really knows her stuff!
I made reservations instead, but quickly became enamored of her culinary talent. I'd just like to sit in her kitchen and watch! I'll need a drool towel as everything on her site looks a little too perfect. I'm sure her home smells of warm cookies all the damn time.
If you're looking for a recipe, or just want to look at a hot blonde...head on over and say hi. A little name dropping of your favorite lesbian wouldn't hurt my chances, I'm sure!
P.S. If I don't win, I'll be buying tickets if I can find someone to pal up with since it's a benefit for St. Luke's Community House. Who wants to go play with food?
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Her: Hi, this is Jennifer with NowPlayingNashville.com. I'm calling to tell you that you've won the Beginner Argentine Tango Workshop from Tango Nashville! It starts tomorrow morning at 10:30am, can you make it?
Me: Of course! I was BORN to tango!
Saturday morning, 10:30am at the Global Education Center
I'm no dancer and have NEVER been to a dance class. Will there be cheesy, greasy guys looking for lov-ahs? Tango aficionados? Clueless geeks? Looks like mostly the latter. Thank you, God. And I'm not the only plus-sized girl. Whew.
As luck would have it, the girls outnumber the guys. Damn. (wink) I hate it when that happens.
Yasar, our instructor, tells everyone to find a partner. The women quickly grab the men. The woman next to me and I are partnered up. Looks like I'm going to get to be the boy! Finally. I never get to be the boy at home!
Put your right hand on her shoulder blade. Left hand palm up for her to place hers into. Slowly and deliberately, walk into her trying to step on her feet. Right leg across to her left leg. Then back to the middle. Guide her across the room. Box step her. Elbows up. Palm up. Don't squeeze her! Keep her out of the brick walls and mirrors. For an hour and a half.
I dance with three women and three men. News flash: Men are goobers. They have no idea how to act around women they've just met. Women are just SO much more fun! Plus they're not all icky.
It's incredibly hard to learn both parts. Doing so does have it's advantages, though. I don't have to dance with as many men!
Who wants to come help me practice? Now, where'd I put those fishnet hose?
Friday, April 18, 2008
We smiled and nodded as we drove past the police barricade keeping commoners out of the area. The church, just one block over had an empty parking space right in front. Thank you, God.
Walking downhill in heels is torturous, not to mention, dangerous. At this point, I put on my Plan B shoes. Lower heeled, but sensible shoes. Just like a lesbian. We trek off down the hill to find two restaurants. The first is Italian, but the second is an unknown, PM of the Belmont area.
Amazing, but it's not crowded. They seat us and bring us a bottle of wine, two salads, Florida and California rolls, Peking Duck Spring Rolls and have us out of there in 3o minutes. The food was fantastic, but the Passionfruit Sangria was to die for! I will be back.
We ran up the hill that we'd just sauntered down to get to our seats. We were to the left of the stage, but the venue was so small that all of the seats were wonderful. It was THE most amazing concert that I've ever been to. Everyone was on that night. Or maybe it was the Passionfruit Sangria, but I had a fabulous time.
My favorite, Taylor Swift. She rocked the house!
Oddest sighting, Snoop Dogg. WTF? Apparently, he has a new country song, My Medicine, dedicated to Johnny Cash. Mkay. The local radio was playing it and discussing it this afternoon and I must admit to bobbing my head to the beat, God help me.
Absolutely, this was a night to remember! My buddy knew all the stars by name and emceed the walk-bys for me. Otherwise, I would have been clueless most of the time. Here's hoping she asks me again next year!
Thursday, April 17, 2008
My hope for you is that you find that love that you so desperately want and need. Don't settle. Don't give up. Hop over that fence and sit on the grass for just a moment. But, don't wait for love. Live your life. Love your family. Love your children. Love your friends. Love YOU.
You are important. You deserve. You need. You want. This is your one time.
Tell people how you feel. Your emotions are valid. If they don't listen. Find someone who will. One person doesn't have to be your everything. But they should be enough.
Never give up. You are worth the effort.
No Place That Far
Artist: Sara Evans
Album: No Place That Far
I can't imagine, any greater fear
Then waking up, without you near
And though the sun, will still shine on
My whole world, would all be gone
But not for long
If I had to run
If I had to crawl
If I had to swim a hundred rivers
Just to climb a thousand walls
Always know that I would find a way
To get to where you are
There's no place that far
It wouldn't matter, why we're apart
The lonely miles, two stubborn hearts
And nothing short, of God above
Could turn me away, from your love
I need you that much
If I had to run
If I had to crawl
If I had to swim a hundred rivers
Just to climb a thousand walls
Always know that I would find a way
To get to where you are
There's no place that far
Baby there's no place that far
Monday, April 14, 2008
Occasionally, I watch stuff on TV that I have no business watching. (but you KNOW you would be right there beside me on the couch with a cold one!)
Now, I've read Anne Rice's lurid Sleeping Beauty tale, The Beauty Trilogy. I'm a tad vanilla. I know a little about BDSM. I know some people that do that. I have told you before, I'm a Candy Ass when it comes to that sort of thing.
I'm watching HBO's Real Sex and they're talking about Pony Play and The Human Equine. Both the men and women ponies wear pony boots and are "shod" by a real blacksmith.
They act up and nuzzle their "owners."
They have their naked skin brushed to "pink" it up.
They wear tails.
And yes, that fancy pony tail plug goes exactly where you think.
Now, I'm not one to make fun, but couldn't they have found a better "pony mane" for the girl below? Really, she needs a good brushing.
If you're calendar's empty on September 5-7th, head on up to Duluth, Minnesota for the Annual Pony Play Championships. Im sure it'll be an interesting ride.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
In the center of town is a city-blocked size park with benches, people eating ice cream ignoring the homeless, and gorgeous palm trees. It seemed that everywhere we want to walk, the directions start with, "Go up to the park." Click on the photos for full size images.
The Basilica Menor de San Lorenzo weighs down one side of the park with it's massive brickwork from the 1600's.
As we approach the church doors, I see a blind man in a wheelchair. Just barely cupped, his palm lies on his lap facing the heavens in hope that someone will help. He reminds me of my grandfather in that he's obviously well kept and tries to hold his back as straight as possible. His shoulders are just barely bent over. I wonder what time his keeper comes for him. Does someone come out from the church to give him a snack or a drink?
On Sunday morning, we leave the hotel after a breakfast of fruit and cookies. Cookies? We finally realize why everyone's been weaving palm fronds. It's Palm Sunday.
Now they are lining the streets with their weavings and some have wheelbarrows full of Easter candy. This is a celebration of phenomenal proportions.
Two blocks from the church we come upon thousands of people in a procession. The ones in front have a cross draped with white cloth. They're singing and walking. And then it happens. The goober with the cross gets it tangled. The priest with the red sash has to come extricate Jesus from the wires. The singing STOPS. I'm sure God laughed even if they didn't.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Me: Kinda. My girl's parents will be in town and I'm making dinner. Why, what's going on?
Her: I have two tickets to the CMT Awards and need a date.
Me: I thought only stars could go! How'd you get tickets?
Her: I have connections.
Me: Let me call my girl and see if she'd mind if we did dinner Sunday night.
I squealed with delight, then prayed that she wouldn't mind changing our plans.
Of course, she didn't mind. She's the greatest girlfriend in the world. (And no, she doesn't read this, so I'm not sucking up!) Although I am taking her to both the Pat Benatar and Gladys Knight concerts this summer. But that was previously planned.
Monday night, I'll be all glammed up and going to the hottest ticket in town! I feel all Rick Rockhill!
She called later and asked me to look up where her tickets were. Section 117. Row O. Seats 1 and 2. She's sleeping with somebody at CMT! I just KNOW it!
If you're not busy...you can see a Real Live Lesbian on your very own TV set Monday night!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
By Katie Franklin and agencies
Photo from: Miss Surrey 2008 is Plus-sized and Perfect
A 16-year-old girl has defied the super-thin modelling status quo by becoming the first size 16 model to be selected as a finalist for the Miss England competition.
Chloe Marshall, from Guildford, beat seven other slimmer girls to the title of Miss Surrey and will now compete in the national finals.
Chloe, a beauty therapy student, said she decided to become a model to give a confidence boost to other "curvy" girls.
"It's really exciting, I'm really, really happy. I'm lost for words, I started to cry and everything. I'm over the moon," she said.
"I wanted to go through to the Miss England finals to break through the stereotype that you have to be tall and skinny.
"I wanted to make a bit of a statement. When I studied the other entrants for the Miss Surrey competition I concluded that pretty as the contestants were, they were equally all uniformly blonde and Barbie doll like.
"I want to show girls out there that it is possible to be beautiful and not a standard sized zero.
"My mum is really happy and proud of me that I am doing something not just for myself but other people as well and my friends are really supportive, they can't stop going on about it."
Miss Marshall, who is 5ft 10in tall and has a 38DD bustline, has been signed by Models Plus model agency.
Stevie Walters, of Models Plus, said Chloe had a "luscious" figure and a bright future ahead of her.
"Chloe is gorgeous-looking and we are sure she will be snapped up by fashion companies who want to project a realistic and achievable image to their customers," she said.
Chloe's success comes as the debate about the use of size zero models in the fashion industry continues.
The debate was sparked last year when a Uruguayan model, Luisel Ramos, 22, died of heart failure after starving herself.
In November, a 21-year-old Brazilian model, Ana Carolina Reston, died from anorexia.
The deaths prompted organisers of Madrid Fashion Week to ban underweight models, while Milan followed suit with a code of conduct to stop anorexic-looking models being used in shows.
The British Fashion Council, however, refused to ban size zero women from taking part in London Fashion Week.
Doctors and women's groups have expressed concern that the use of underweight models encourages anorexia in the industry and sends a dangerous signal to girls.
At the end of the summer, my girl and I will be heading to Maine for our vacation. I want to go kayaking in Acadia National Park.
I want to see the puffins if they're still there when we are around the 18th and we're going to a ginormous blueberry festival in Machias, ME.
My question to you is....do you know of anything else we should do? We're flying in to Providence on the 14th and heading to Boston to spend the night at the Westin (let me just say that Hotwire.com ROCKS!) Then to Boothbay, ME to spend two nights at The Thistle Inn.
After that...we're free-ballin' it! Anybody got some cool things to do on our way back down to Providence?
P.S. As for the pity-party post about how I hate my job, I took it down. Too negative. Instead of being pissy, I'm looking for things to look forward to and ways to change my current situation. So if you know anyone looking for a Real Live Lesbian with a great cherry bra...let me know. ;)
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
First off, if you get the opportunity to fly first class to Paraguay, say hi to this little sweetie for me. She kept me stocked with plenty of apple juice and a lovely smile! Of course, the flight was at the ass crack of dawn...AGAIN!
We arrived in Asuncion and made our way to our meager hotel. My uncles like to sleep cheap and eat expensive. The room below is my haven for two nights. My bed is the twin on the left with the flattest pillow I've ever known. No covers...just a sheet.
I paid about $17 for my half of the room and around $30 for my filet mignon dinner with a bottle of wine, salad and dessert!
Asuncion, Paraguay is warm and inviting. Everyone is drinking mate. EVERYONE. In the parks, they are making it from a variety of roots and well dirty weeds, and in the offices, they make it from a tea like form that they pour over hot or cold water.
I couldn't do it. I wanted to get some mate here, but after looking at her fingernails...um, no. I'll find another way.
These are the jugs that folks carry their mate around in. In every conceivable sports team, cartoon character and color, you can get them anywhere!
On our second day, I take a picture of this guy. Oddly enough, my goal for the day was to try some mate. This guy waves at me for my pic and then insists that I try his mate. I didn't look at his fingernails. Please, don't blow up the pic and ruin it for me!
Everywhere we turned, women are weaving palms. It dawned on us later that next Sunday is Palm Sunday...hence, all the palms. Doh.
Let me tell you that we are eating fabulously! The salads in Paraguay are to DIE for!
And these people eat more meat than anywhere that I've ever been! Fantastic steaks. Every night, guys, every night. Argentina is right next door and the beef rocks!
We're having the worst time finding phones to call home. I've spoken to my girl just a handful of minutes since I left and I vow to myself never to leave her behind again.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Up again at the ass crack of dawn, we find Rocio waiting for us after a breakfast of pineapple, papaya, watermelon, strawberries, coca tea and local breads. I'm amazed that any of this was planned with the teensy amounts of each other's languages that we understood. We make our way to the train station with the hope that she'll meet us on the way back down from Machu Picchu at Poroy. It'll save us an hour by hopping off there and taking a taxi to the bus station where we'll barely catch a bus to La Paz, Bolivia tonight at 10pm. She'll meet us there with our luggage that we're leaving in the lobby of the hotel. Let me say that I'm not so comfortable with this.
We can't fly out of here for less than $500, so we've opted for the $35 overnight, 14 hour bus trip back to where we started. I would happily pay it, but my millionaire uncles can't afford it. How bad could it be? I'll just take a Xanax and sleep. Sure.
The train ride is a series of switchbacks where the train goes past, stops, and switches directions up the mountain. We travel alongside the Urubamba River and down to our destination for four hours. Disembarking, we walk through the gates to Aguas Calientes, a town that looks like they threw it up just last night. It's a series of shacks and such, underneath which all manner of Peruvian booty is being sold. (click on photos for larger views)
Rainy season doesn't end for another month, but there's no rain right now. We're prepared in case it does, but we're hoping for a dry day. We wait 10 minutes for a Mercedes Bus to take us up more switchbacks to the top. By the time we arrive at the top, it's pouring. I drag out the plastic bag that's going to protect me from the rain and cover me and my backpack. I'm soaked before we even start walking up the hill. Note to anyone who might go...spend more than .99 cents on rain gear!
We have to wait in another line to get through the gates to ascend up to Machu Picchu. Stone is everywhere and the mountains loom around us.
As we round the corner, we see the entirety of the site. Absolutely amazing. I can't even describe this place to you. You MUST go. I snapped about 6 pics with my camera, each time getting a little wetter. To give you some idea, the rain was coming down the stone stairways so rapidly that we couldn't even see the rocks. It was like stepping into a stream going down the side of the mountain.
It seemed like a few minutes that we toured the site, but in actuality, it was a few hours. There's a hotel at the top that is around $600/night and it would be worth every penny to stay up there and walk out at sunrise. The first trains arrive around 11am, giving you lots of quiet time at the ruins.
We are soaked. There might be a dry spot around my waistline, but everything else is ringing wet. We find the most expensive lunch spot (around $17 each) and I head to the restroom to dry my top on the hand dryer. There were all sorts of clothing thrown over their brick ovens to dry while the soaked and fortunate dined in warmth on Peruvian delicacies.
After lunch, it occurs to me that I have four more hours on a train, 30 minutes in a taxi and then a 14 hour bus ride to look forward to. I have never been cooped up for that long. Most of me is still soaked. My pants, socks and shoes are dripping. I'm bitchy on long trips on a good day. I bought myself some baby alpaca socks to soothe myself and promised myself to not be bitchy.
Amazingly, Rocio and a driver are at Poroy to meet us with our luggage. Everything goes according to plan! We get on the bus and immediately, I am antsy. I think, if the rest of the trip is going to be like this day, I don't want to do it. If it will be consisting of half days on buses on which I cannot poop, I will go home. I can't do this. This is miserable. All night. I can't sleep. My uncle has gas. As if I'm not miserable enough, the man next to me is crop dusting me in his sleep. The xanax is not much help with that.
The next morning brought more gorgeous valleys and a huge attitude adjustment on my part. I made it through the night and I'm fortunate to be here. You really have to see the one above much larger to appreciate it. That is a kiln off to the left where they make their own bricks. They were fired up all along this stretch of highway and I missed every one that was billowing smoke!
At the border of Peru and Bolivia, people were everywhere cooking lunch for the locals and selling necessities. This is no tourist town. Just a place to get my passport stamped and get off of the bus for a few minutes.
We arrive back at La Paz, Bolivia around 3pm and start planning our next adventure. Looks like Paraguay and Argentina are next.