My Ramblings – Page 75 – Bookish Butch

Admiring beautiful women, a very lesbian thing to do:-)

The Habs won the first game,

against the Big, Bad Bruins,

2-0,

Go Habs Go.

I’ll tell you,

I’m in a good mood,

and,

I was messing around on,

She Wired,

on Facebook,

pretty good sight,

keeps you abreast of,

all things,

lesbian.

Today,

they posted a few pictures,

from Allure Magazine,

not because it was,

as they put it,

even,

remotely lesbian,

but,

because it was sexy.

I like that,

and I beg to differ,

it is lesbian,

to appreciate a beautiful,

woman,

Duh!

So without further ado,

a few shots,

of beautiful women.

Lesbian or not,

we should appreciate,

a picture of a truly,

beautiful,

woman.

This picture appeared in,

Vanity Fair Magazine,

way back in 1993.

I used to have,

a copy of this,

I wonder what happened to it?

Two beautiful women,

and yes, girls that is what butch fantasies look like:-)

My favourite L Word lady,

Jennifer Beals,

and how many times,

have I,

watched Flasdance?

As our American friends,

would say,

I plead the fifth!

She’s a maniac, maniac on the floor.

Annette Benning, in black and white, wow.

I wish I could find a picture,

of the beautiful Annette,

wearing Micheal Douglas’ shirt,

in The American President.

One thing about Warren Beatty, he has impecable taste:-)

Mature, smart, funny,

the glowing Diane Keaton,

she’s always,

been cute and kookie,

but,

the grey hair,

glasses,

and life on her face,

oh yeah.

Let’s hear it for, the over fifty crowd:-)

Kate Clinton,

soft butch,

at it’s best,

if I could look like Kate Clinton, I could die happy:-)

Again,

funny and mature,

because,

when it comes right down,

to it,

laughing,

will get you through a lot:-)

Well, that’s it,

just some beautiful women,

to admire and adore,

beats, the hell out of,

politics:-)

Later girls,

Engaged, informed and interested, I try!

Hey girls,

what’s up?

a rainy day here in,

Montreal,

I guess a little bit of rain,

never hurts,

makes things,

grow,

washes away,

your troubles,

your worries,

your woes,

well,

metaphorically,

anyway.

Don’t mind me,

I’m in one of my moods,

nothing serious,

I’m looking forward to,

the playoffs,

tax refund,

maybe a vacation,

to somewhere I’ve never been:-)

Well, I can dream…

Brought the laptop,

to the bookstore,

but,

it seems,

the battery is weak,

I know how it feels:-)

OK,

I plugged in the laptop,

got myself,

some coffee,

we’re good to go.

So,

I’ve been thinking,

about,

the fact that,

the date of,

the leaders’ debate,

the French one,

has been changed,

so as to not compete,

with the start of,

the hockey playoffs,

the Habs take on the Bruins, in the first round of the NHL playoffs. Federal election in order to pick the next Prime Minister of Canada, just to be clear, on what I’m talking about:-)

OK, now you girls know,

how important hockey,

especially my Habs,

are to me,

in Québec we say “Le CH tatoué sur le coeur,” which means we love our team so much we have the insignia tattooed on our hearts. We don’t mess around, this is serious, shit, I mean hockey, come on!!

and I’ll tell you,

if I had to pick,

between,

hockey and the debate,

I would pick the hockey,

and I think most,

of my compatriots,

would as well,

and yet,

we’re not talking,

final or seventh game,

and this election,

is important.

So, why the apathy?

Well, we could say,

voter disinterest is common,

in most of the world’s democracies,

that would be true,

we could also,

blame the hockey genome thing:-)

or,

that the younger generation,

isn’t as engaged,

in national, federal politics,

more interested,

in a global vision of the world,

we could also say,

that most Quebecers,

don’t feel,

their voices are heard in Ottawa.

I think all these things,

are true,

and yet,

when my mother,

a seventy year old,

who has always voted,

and is a federalist in good standing,

says she won’t watch either,

of the debates,

she usually watches both, we are a bilingual and political junkie family.

I’m worried.

because, honestly,

if mom doesn’t feel engaged,

who does?

Have we become jaded?

Do we all have the attention span of gnats?

Do we not care?

I don t think so,

I think it is,

a feeling of powerlessness,

of our vote and voice,

not,

making a difference.

We need to take our power back,

not just vote,

with resignation,

we must attempt,

at least,

to be,

engaged,

informed,

interested

So, I for one,

am going to watch,

the debate,

if you wonder,

what that noise is,

tonight around 8 o’clock,

its me,

howling at,

Stephen Harper,

and all,

but, I think mom,

should skip it,

she has a bit of a temper:-)

Oh and Ill be watching the hockey,

on Thursday,

Go Habs Go.

Later girls,

Upstairs, Downstairs

Hello girls,

it’s a grey one,

but,

oh so,

mild.

I have a whole lot,

of boring,

tasks to accomplish,

today,

but,

grey is perfect,

for that,

dealing with,

the ordinary,

the boring,

It must be done,

it will be done.

Last night,

mom and I,

watched something,

special,

on television,

The new,

Upstairs, Downstairs,

on Masterpiece theatre on PBS,

the Dude didn’t join us, he doesn’t do television, although he enjoys the sounds of nature shows that deal with birds:-)

I remember The original,

Upstairs, Downstairs,

from my childhood,

it left with me a fascination,

for the idea,

of being in service.

A time,

when gigantic,

households,

were run by dozens,

of servants,

absolutely fascinating.

Upstairs, Downstairs,

is the first time,

I saw that sort,

of thing.

I went on later,

to see,

The Remains of the Day,

a movie,

I will never tire of seeing,

Anthony Hopkins,

the glorious,

Emma Thompson,

Is there a more appealing woman than Emma Thompson on the planet? Perhaps but, not in the movies:-)

the movie,

is filled with longing,

and the unexplored

missed opportunities,

for love,

because,

first and foremost,

they must serve.

Very sad,

some would say pathetic or stupid,

I wouldn’t be,

one of those people.

There is nobility,

in sacrifice and duty,

maybe,

it shouldn’t be for a bunch,

of arristocrats,

but, still.

Years, later,

I read the novel,

it is,

a tiny little novel,

filled with so much,

in less than 300 pages.

A staggering acheivement,

I’ve never read anything like it,

I’m surprised,

I’ve never mentionned it before.

I can never keep it,

in stock,

at the bookstore,

as soon as I replace a copy,

than I recommend it,

I always say,

“you must read this, there’s nothing like it”

Really girls, it’s wonderful.

The great Robert Altman,

also made a strong movie,

on the subject,

Gosford Park.

The new Upstairs, Downstairs,

is very promising,

with a first rate cast,

headed by Jean Marsh,

who was Rose,

the upstairs maid,

in the original.

The lovely Keeley Hawes,

playes Agnes,

the new lady of the house,

if I can manage to get the image of her, as Kitty in Tipping The Velvet, out of my head, she should be fine<wink>

Nobody does period drama,

like the Brits.

How a working class,

anarchist leaning, lefty,

like me,

can be so fascinated,

by the serving class,

and the aristocratic class,

is a bit of a mystery,

but, I am,

that and,

boarding schools,

go figure.

Later girls,

In which I have a bit of a meltdown

The weather is still amazing.

The Habs are in the playoffs,

I had a decent night’s sleep,

all in all,

not too bad,

here at,

bookish butch central.

Yesterday, I acquired,

a whole bunch of books,

at the bookstore,

some weird and interesting,

stuff,

a few books,

that I thought,

“I’ve always wanted to read that”

One of them is,

Soul On Ice,

Eldridge Cleaver.

Cleaver was a big man,

in the Black Panthers,

he called himself,

the Minister of Information.

I’m interested,

in clandestine,

political movements,

of the past,

The I.R.A,

the F.L.Q.

and the Black Panthers.

Revolutionary movements,

that start,

with lofty ideas,

and often degenerate,

into violent,

narrow focused,

power trips.

I am interested in the history,

of oppression,

and the attempts to rise,

above,

that oppression.

Soul On Ice,

is a book of essays,

and looks,

like it might be,

a disturbing read,

for instance,

one of the essays,

is about raping,

white women,

in order to stick it to,

The Man.

Ok, this is an old book,

still,

why is it,

that women,

are always the victims,

of choice,

for men who,

feel weak and disenfranchised,

this goes on,

still today,

in troubled,

parts of the world,

in our parts of the world.

If the world emasculates you,

beat up your wife,

your girlfriend,

kick your dog,

sick stuff.

I don’t mean,

to be reductive,

I, in no way,

say men are like that,

or that the ideas,

of revolution,

are beset with this kind,

of attitude.

It is however, undeniable,

that women and girls,

bear the brunt,

of war, revolution, and poverty.

Sorry, girls,

didn’t mean to get all soapboxish,

talking about this book sent,

me on a bit of a tiraid,

maybe, I should just,

read it and tell you,

what I think,

it qualifies for,

The Bottom Of The Box,

category,

it’s hard to find,

and is in sorry ass,

condition.

I’ll let you know.

Another book which was,

part of the acquisitions was,

Freakonomics,

I’ve read a lot,

about this book,

controversial,

and brilliant,

apparently.

I think I’ll read that next.

I gave up on Forster’s Maurice,

I hated it.

Well, I’m going downtown,

shop and walk,

I wish you all,

an excellent Sunday.

Later girls,

Soft hangover ramblings

Beautiful day,

sunny, sunny,

going to be eleven,

degrees,

oh yeah!

Went out with my friend,

busy writer,

last night,

bar,

beer,

was nice,

very nice,

she’s amazing,

I don’t think,

I tell her that,

enough,

but,

I did last night,

and no,

it wasn’t,

because of,

the beer.

I haven’t been,

sleeping,

so well,

lately,

so,

half a pitcher,

of beer,

went to my head,

maybe,

I’m getting to be,

wimpy,

in my rapidly,

advancing,

middle age,

forty-sixth birthday, looming, yuck!!

whatever.

The beer went to my head,

more than usual.

This morning,

I’m a little hung over,

but,

the good kind,

not the headache,

or nausea,

or the feeling,

that a small furry,

animal,

crawled into,

your mouth,

and died there,

no,

not that kind.

This is more like,

fuzziness,

a little lack of focus,

not unpleasant,

just a little vague,

nothing,

a couple of Aspirins,

an orange,

and several cups,

of very strong,

espresso coffee,

can’t cure.

My ex always said, my coffee is so strong, it melts teeth, a slight exaggeration as I still have all my teeth, but, you get the picture, Strong:-)

been thinking,

about music.

Whenever,

I’m tired or confused,

sad or melancholic,

my mind goes to,

music.

Lately, I have been,

enamored with this,

big, beautiful,

singer,

from the UK,

Adele,

damn, can this girl,

sing,

she’s young,

very young,

lots of soul.

It seems to me,

you can’t have that,

kind of soul,

if you haven’t had,

pain,

or,

experience,

same difference.

This girl,

speaks to me,

btw, I credit Feral, for turning me on to her, thanks, pal:-)

all week I have been,

thinking about,

some major events,

in my life,

trying not to think,

attempting to just,

feel.

Adele,

helps with that.

Last night,

we were discussing,

love,

how wonderful,

it is,

how hard it is,

how living without it,

is hell,

and how,

when you find it,

maybe you should do,

everything in your power,

to realise it,

to keep it,

to nurture it.

I believe that,

that ultimately,

as The Beatles say,

Love is all there is.

Hangovers make me ramble,

but,

then again,

doesn’t everything.

Later girls,

Hockey, our contribution to the human genome?? :-)

Good morning girls,

OK,

this post,

comes with a warning,

I’m talking,

hockey.

Hockey is,

the Great Canadian Sport,

pastime.

The Americans,

have baseball,

and basketball,

the Brits,

have soccer,

or as they call it,

football,

and cricket,

quite possibly the weirdest sport ever:-)

but,

in Canada,

we have hockey,

we play those other sports,

with various levels,

of success,

but,

our collective heart,

belongs to hockey.

Honestly,

doesn’t matter,

if you watch it,

play it,

only follow,

the NHL,

junior championships,

or the Olympics,

love of hockey,

or at least,

awareness,

is part of our collective,

DNA,

perhaps it is our contribution,

to the human genome,

Be patient with BB, high school biology was a loooong time ago and there was no such thing as a human genome then, so what I’ve learned is from watching Charlie Rose, thus, limited, enough said:-)

I’m lucky,

I am a Montrealer,

and I have access,

to the greatest hockey team,

there is,

The Montreal Canadiens,

historically,

if not recently,

although, last year was pretty darn great!!

The Montreal Canadiens,

are one of the legendary,

sports franchises,

on a par with,

The Yankees,

The Celtics,

The Packers,

they mean as much to us,

collectively,

as those teams mean,

in their neck of the woods,

actually,

they mean more,

they are tied up,

in our culture,

our history,

our pride,

they are our team.

The Canadiens,

spelt the French way, because originally, they were a French team,

are as popular,

with the French,

the English,

the new immigrant,

even if you don’t,

speak either official language,

you are one of us,

if you wear,

the red sweater.

The Canadiens have many,

nicknames,

The Habs,

short for the Habitant,

goes back to our settler, agrarian, peasant roots, Habitant, is french for peasant , it also means hick, in our vernacular.

Habs is the most popular,

of their designations,

probably,

because anyone,

can say in any,

language,

Go Habs Go.

They also go by Le bleue, blanc, rouge,

( blue, white, red, although no Anglo says that)

Le tricolore,

La Sainte-Flanelle,

a particular favourite of mine, goes back to a time when the sweaters were made in a woolen blend and all French Quebecers were Catholics and many things were named after saints:-) I like this old-fashioned designation, because I’m old fashioned! and it reminds me of my roots, my ancestors, my grandfather who I adored.

there are many more,

nicknames,

I’m sure,

but,

I can’t think of any more,

right now,

besides,

you must all be bored,

I think The Habs,

are Montreal’s,

Québec’s,

Canada’s,

Team,

some may disagree,

and think,

The Toronto Maple Leafs,

are Canada’s team,

heresy,

but,

hey if people want to root,

for a team that hasn’t won,

The Stanley Cup,

since 1967,

who is BB,

to judge.

Hockey,

Beer,

and bitchin’,

or at the very least,

mentioning,

the weather,

are the great Canadian,

unifiers,

transcends,

everything,

and contribute,

greatly to who,

we are,

I think.

Later girls,

Hockey and what the movies taught me?

Ye, Ye, Ye,

The Habs,

made the playoffs,

I’m doing the wave:-)

and singing the,

song,

The Habs song,

Na Na Na Na Na Na,

hey hey hey,

goodbye.

Big ass GRIN.

It’s a beautiful day,

sunny,

going to be,

six, seven degrees,

that’s Celsius,

for you Americans,

you know who you are:-)

I’m tired,

I’m preoccupied,

I don’t know whether,

I’m coming or going,

But,

I don’t want to talk,

hopes, fears.

I want to apologise,

for neglecting you girls,

lately.

My friend,

busy writer,

says,

I’ve been slacking off,

she may be right,

she is right.

So, I’m back.

I wanted to write,

about movies.

I love movies,

as much as books.

I have earlier memories,

related to movies,

watching,

with,

mom and dad,

or,

at Grandmaman’s,

on television,

movies taught me,

history,

before books did.

Old black and white movies,

emotion,

style,

beautiful women,

handsome men,

romance,

kissing,

while wearing hats,

tricky stuff, well, looked that way, anyway.

I had idols in movies,

Jimmy Stewart,

so,

upright,

righteoutiously indignant,

Bogart,

vulnerable and dangerous,

Gary Cooper,

a butch model, if ever there was one, to me he was butch before I knew what butch was:-)

strong, silent,

yep, nope,

I’m nothing like that,

but,

still.

But, the idol of all idols,

Cary Grant,

Mr. Debonair,

what woman could resist,

such a silver tongued devil,

this I could aspire to,

if only I was taller,

had a British accent,

and could wear suits.

I suppose I didn’t get,

that he was a guy,

and I wasn’t,

and I didn’t want to be,

weird the disconnect that,

happens with movies,

when you are a kid.

I learned the art of gentleman,

from Cary,

I don’t know,

if he would get,

my brand,

of gentleman,

but,

I’m grateful:-)

Thanks for putting up with me girls.

I promise I’ll be less weird tomorrow:-)

Later girls,

A gift of a book, perfect.

It is a beautiful day,

still tired,

but,

hey,

this too shall pass:-)

The Habs, won.

YES!!

Very busy day,

yesterday,

but,

I got a nice present,

from a customer,

customers gives me present,

must be because of, my natural charm, and devilish grin:-)

Anyway,

this customer I did,

something for him,

he’s been reading in English,

something,

he hadn’t really done,

before,

and he asked me if,

I would pronounce,

certain words,

on tape,

for him.

I did warn him,

that my accent,

was not exactly,

language lab,

he doesn’t hear it,

besides,

everyone,

has some sort,

of accent,

it’s a question,

of,

perspective,

and,

degrees,

I think.

So, yesterday to thank me,

he didn’t have to, it represented five minutes of my time,

he brought me a,

modern library,

edition,

of Cakes and Ale,

by my man,

Maugham.

I am tickled pink.

I turned him on,

to Somerset Maugham,

a couple of years ago,

as well as,

modern library editions,

so it was doubly,

pleasing,

and,

appropriate.

I like the editions,

from the,

forties and fifties,

they are a perfect,

size,

and,

weight.

They are bound,

and stay open,

and they are easy,

to read,

not too big,

not too small.

I am not a collector,

I just love books,

it’s not about value.

This gift,

was the best part,

of my workday,

not much pleases me, more than a book.

when,

I got home,

something,

delightful,

awaited,

but,

I won’t tell you,

about that,

a butch,

has to keep,

some things,

secret,

and to herself.

Have a great day.

Later girls,

The possibility of love?

Ladies,

How are we on this fine,

April morning?

I feel good,

a little tired,

but,

hey,

could be age,

more likely,

it’s seasonal change,

tiring.

I have been reading,

a lot of highbrow,

and,

time consuming stuff,

lately,

but,

in the last few days,

I read a nice,

relaxing,

romance.

I won’t tell you which,

I have to review elsewhere,

and honestly,

it doesn’t really matter,

a good romance,

is,

a good romance.

All the required,

elements,

in place,

lined up,

two beautiful women,

one more butch,

than the other,

one more vulnerable,

than the other,

alas, it’s true, usually the butch:-)

seems one is usually,

dark haired,

a raven haired beauty,

one is lighter haired,

and more muscular,

again, usually, the butch,

her object of desire,

is not described as,

femme,

that wouldn’t be,

right,

politically,

right?

Some sort of,

conflict or coincidence,

throws them together,

at each other,

so to speak.

Instant chemistry,

but,

also,

impossibility,

or at the very least,

hindrance,

prohibits them,

being together,

sigh.

A good romance,

author,

manages to bring them,

together,

in a believable,

or at least,

not too,

contrived way.

Along the way,

she also,

if she’s good,

throws in some,

bone melting,

liquid bodied,

sex.

Be still my heart!!

What can I say,

I’m a sucker,

for a happy ending,

and romance novels,

deliver.

why else would we read, them?

Nothing wrong,

with the prospect,

of a happy ending,

keeps you hopeful,

keeps you,

out there.

Or have we become,

too jaded,

too cynical,

too scared,

for a happy ending?

Not, I,

BB,

is an eternal,

optimist,

romantic,

not silly,

or deluded,

well, I don’t think I am.

I just like to believe,

in the possibility,

and,

sometimes,

the impossibility,

of,

Love and Romance.

What do the girls think?

Later girls,

Reflection on Transgender Warriors

If there is no struggle there is no progress. Those who profess to favor freedom and yet depreciate agitation…want crops without plowing up the ground, they want rain without thunder and lightening. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters…. Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.”
Frederick Douglass, 1857

I have been reading Leslie Feinberg’s,

Transgender Warriors,

in the few chapters,

I have read,

I have learned,

much,

and it has brought me to,

reflection on the nature of gender,

and transgender,

I always thought,

I didn’t understand,

much about,

transgender,

maybe,

I get it more,

than I thought.

Sometimes, you read,

something,

and it crystallizes,

your thoughts.

For instance,

I had read,

before,

in the bad old days,

before Stonewall,

that when cops,

arrested homosexuals,

in bar raids,

they could charge you,

if you weren’t wearing,

three pieces of,

gender appropriate,

clothing,

and I thought,

fuckin’ fascists,

I would fail,

by that criteria,

everyday,

most,

days,

it’s one piece,

three guesses as to what that might be:-)

strangely enough,

I have never seen,

being butch,

as cross dressing,

I don’t attempt to pass,

for anything,

but,

maybe it’s just another,

degree.

I don’t know.

Deserves, reflection.

But, I’m grateful,

to Feinberg,

for insight and illumination.

If you are not transexual,transgender, or intersexual,if you’re not a cross-dresser, bigender, or drag queen or king, then perhaps you already understand that defending our rights to be who we are is inextricably tied to your own right to explore and define who you are . Each individual has a stake in trans libearation– Transgender Warriors page 92

Never,

thought of it,

quite like that before,

I’m thick,

sometimes,

but, I do attempt,

to catch up.

It can be quite the process.

In the last six months,

Feinberg,

post-modernism,

genderQueer,

and discussions,

here,

and elsewhere,

have helped in,

my quest,

to be less thick.

The process goes on.

Just, wanted to let,

you in on,

my reflection.

Later girls,