July 2008

Friday I went to a barbeque and had a most fabulous time.  The women attending were phenomenal.  From Olympic athlete to FBI employee to writer to airline stewardess to filmmaker to just plain ole sexy.  We ate, we drank, we talked politics, and we dared to talk religion – about bishop TD Jakes and minister Eddie Long.  Does the world know how they sold black gays and lesbians down the river – in order to support Bush’s anti-gay campaign?  But that’s a different blog so never mind.

Saturday, I didn’t go to the game but I heard that Atlanta’s women’s professional basketball team had won a game.  17 losses, and now – 1 win.  We are now ready to show the world who we are.  Afterwards, there were several club after parties.  

I have been living in London for so long, I’d forgotten what it’s like to be around a club full of black lesbians.  The club had a dance floor and a bar on the lower level.  Upstairs held plush chairs and tables, and a bar.  Nice decor. And the women … all shapes and all sizes were seen and appreciated. From the full figured woman in a skin tight mini in make up and pumps to the studly type with a crew cut and a muscle shirt.  Beautiful.  The music was pumping and the dancing was fabulous.  Shoulders were moving and round asses were rolling…sensuously.

I sipped my drink and stared for most of the night.  It wasn’t until the last few songs did I feel like shaking my thang.  I started out slowly and then BAM!  I was there.  My two dance partners worked it. Yes, they did.   With a mixture of Cuban drums and African rhythms, I moved parts that haven’t been able to move for years. 

Tomorrow I will go to the Pride Parade then afterwards, another party.  I think this is absolutely the best pride weekend I’ve had in all my years.

Thanks to the fabulously friendly people that I’ve met through N and K.  Everyone has made me feel so welcomed. 

Even if you don’t know that I have a blog…Thank you. 


Its the time of the year for fireworks, good food, flag waving, drinks galore and more good food.  Somewhere in the midst of celebration, we should think about veterans.  

I went to the Veterans Hospital two days ago – because I am a veteran.  I remember how I felt when I first saw men and women needing an artificial nose, ear, cheek  – because their faces were falling apart.  Dissolving.  The shock I felt the first time I saw a living, functioning man with half his skull missing.  His scalp was pulled over the cavern as if it made a difference. The sight made me feel faint for the entire day.  Given enough time and exposure, my reaction to traumatic events and sights did diminish.  Or, I acquired the ability to detach.

Two days ago, I stood in line behind another female vet who had just returned from an appointment at a different hospital.   Normally, the VA will pay for transportation costs to medical appointments that they schedule.  So, there she was.  Standing in line for transportation support.  The woman had (possibly) breast cancer so was rather traumatized after returning from her appointment.  Since she was poor, she could only get back home with the transportation funds that the VA would provide.  Alas, the payment window had closed – fifteen minutes before she’d arrived.  The female vet started crying because she had no money/gas to get home. The people behind the window did not seem sympathetic.  I’m sure they’ve seen it all before.

 I heard the woman say that female vets were not being treated the same as male vets.  It gave me a pang.  Quickly, I shut down any emotion that threatened to come to the surface.  I don’t know how her journey home was accomplished. She was still there when I left.  Still wiping tears from her eyes.  I don’t know why I didn’t think to offer her money out of my own pocket.  I wish that I had.