CONFESSION: Check-out at Hotel Vertigo. Super dreamy lobby. You can read more about it here, if you’d like. We are up and at ‘em on approximately 4-5 hrs. of sleep and absolutely pining for donuts and coffee. We weren’t sure how nightmarish the Love Parade malarkey would be, so we just dashed out of there right before noon and headed to our favorite Noe Valley donut shop. They have Peerless coffee there! A plus. Let’s see if you can guess what I’m thinking as I gaze fondly down upon that polished, gorgeous hunk of wood.
CONFESSION: It was so Fall on this day! Monday, to be exact. I used to loathe the grey + ivory combination, but I am for it this season, especially if you swap the predictable dash of mustard with a nice, predictable and lush rose instead. Ideally, in some sort of ridiculously lavish, ruffled suede. Mm. I guess I’m sort of a moron for not throwing on my pink posie Tulle coat on over this. Next time!
CONFESSION: We discovered that M hates shooting at night and Halloween today. I know, right? OK, so night shooting is HARD and a pain in the ass, but hating Halloween? I think I should remind her about candy corn and slutty costumes bonding with loved ones in a creepy way. In any case, I can’t let her hate Halloween until we’ve dressed up as Moroccan Tranny Patsy and Edina first. It’s our dream! I had fun on the night shoot; we explored the creepy alley across the street and I pretended to be scary and chased kittens around.
NOTE: I gave y’all a three-for-one because even though they were different pairs of jeans, they were still jeans. Never fear (esp. not you, H), I had heels on in both of the above and a brand spankin’ new pair of hella fierce Betsey Johnson tights that are dying to debut themselves.
QUERY: An extremely lovely and devoted reader recently wondered if I might do a Q & A here at FFAF, and you know what I thought? I thought I would, if you’d like. Feel free to send burning questions to fitforafemme@gmail.com and I’ll answer enthusiastically and in bulk to the best of my ability!
CONFESSION: Welcome to my neighborhood, kittens! Where I live, one can wander through lush gardens where butterflies flit around lavender bushes, coo at adorable puppies and babies at the swing set and then hit the Mission’s main arteries for fresh goodies from 84,000 bustling mexicatessens, lesbian tea dance parties, super thrifting, mindblowing cuisine from every last corner of the world and more. I love living here! It’s magical. It is also sinfully hot this weekend, and I was forced (forced, I swear!) to hack about 4″ off these already cut-off shorts today. Also?
HI, I TOTALLY CUT MY HAIR.
I haven’t been hiding, I’ve been busy and wearing mostly boring outfits and, you know, spending several days in that awkward getting-to-know-you phase of a new haircut. I did have to go back to the salon to have them make some slight adjustments after about a week, but now I’m pleased as punch. Life is very good indeed.
Some odd finds on our walkabout: The super creepy mural at the playground in which what appear to be trauma patients in a trolley are shooting a massive, celestial bazooka at a deranged, larger-than-life, distant cousin of Mickey Mouse, who is grabbing wee lumberjacks with chainsaws. It’s so…carnie, you know? Also, someone abandoned a scale on the corner, in front of the laundromat. It was broken, but we stopped to tinker with it anyway.
Ooh! Here’s my new hair when it’s all straight-like (I might need to, like, invest in and then learn how to use a flat iron):
Ooh! And then I wanted y’all to enjoy this Dolly, because it’s super magical:
PS. M & I made a massive batch of chicken tortilla soup from scratch – even the little strips! – for dinner tonight. In fact, we had no recipe at all, but it was a success! So delicious. We added potato, avocado and queso fresco. And French 75s made with Hendrick’s gin.
Confession: The bad news early this week, combined with needing a vacation from my Memorial Day holiday weekend minibreak made for a pretty quick and painful week. I’ve been devouring articles on the Prop. 8 fallout, working like mad and oscillating between feeling angry and despairing or feeling all the more empowered and inspired to do something about marriage equality.
We know the country faces many serious challenges and we have strived to be patient. We’ve waited for the slightest sign you would live up to your promise to be a “fierce advocate” for our equal rights while watching gay and lesbian members of the armed forces, who have never been more needed, get discharged from the military. And so far you have done nothing. No stop loss order. No call to cease such foolish and discriminatory actions that make our nation less safe.
You pledged to repeal the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, Mr. President. You promised to support a “complete repeal” of the so-called Defense of Marriage Act and pledged to advocate for legislation that would give same-sex couples the 1,100+ federal rights and benefits we are denied, including the same rights to social security benefits. You said, “Federal law should not discriminate in any way against gay and lesbian couples.”
I am appalled to the point of feeling literally faint with horror and disbelief upon reading this article by Andrew Sullivan of The Atlantic, and here is an excerpt from it:
Here we are, in the summer of 2009, with gay servicemembers still being fired for the fact of their orientation. Here we are, with marriage rights spreading through the country and world and a president who cannot bring himself even to acknowledge these breakthroughs in civil rights, and having no plan in any distant future to do anything about it at a federal level. Here I am, facing a looming deadline to be forced to leave my American husband for good, and relocate abroad because the HIV travel and immigration ban remains in force and I have slowly run out of options (unlike most non-Americans with HIV who have no options at all).
And what is Obama doing about any of these things? What is he even intending at some point to do about these things? So far as I can read the administration, the answer is: nada. We’re firing Arab linguists? So sorry. We won’t recognize in any way a tiny minority of legally married couples in several states because they’re, ugh, gay? We had no idea. There’s a ban on HIV-positive tourists and immigrants? Really? Thanks for letting us know. Would you like to join Joe Solmonese and John Berry for cocktails? The inside of the White House is fabulous these days.
Yesterday, Robert Gibbs gave non-answer after non-answer on civil unions and Obama’s clear campaign pledge to grant equal federal rights for gay couples; non-answer after non-answer on the military’s remaining ban on honest servicemembers. What was once a categorical pledge is now – well let’s call it the toilet paper that it is.
I’m just at a loss to say anything further, but there was one small triumph, one small thing that I could do this week to feel less powerless, so I decided to change my legal name. While M & I discussed it long ago and I’d been meaning to get around to it, on Wednesday I marched into the Social Security Administration offices in Oakland and demanded a legal name change with my marriage certificate in hand. And what do you know, less than five minutes after I stomped into there, I floated out with my receipt in hand, officially Mrs. M. FFAF Tomboy. The next and final step as far as officious bureaus and things are concerned was the DMV, and they asked that I return either after 72 hrs. to verify the SSA change electronically, or once I have my newly issued SSN card in hand, so I’ll do that as soon as it comes in the mail. In the meantime, the change feels FANTASTIC! I love it. In a way, I’m glad I’d procrastinated on taking care of it, because it was somewhat healing and empowering to do it this way, at this time, in response to those cowardly opinions.
Finally, in No More Mr. Nice Gay in The Huffington Post, Michael Rowe beautifully captures the three historical pillars of social exclusion and here’s my favorite excerpt from that article (bolding mine):
The LGBT community isn’t demanding the first gay president…or a lesbian Supreme Court Justice. Yet. What they want, and what they’re fighting for is full membership in American society without the three historical pillars of social exclusion (especially for men): the ability to marry someone of their own choice, the ability to raise and protect a family, and the right to serve and defend their country in the military. If those aren’t “family values,” then “family values” don’t exist. LGBT people are not any threat to “the family.” They are the family: sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, husbands, wives. The joining of two families is one of the oldest rites in the history of the human race.
It’s time that the full rights of every American be fully enshrined and protected, and that the battle for those rights be acknowledged as this generation’s defining civil rights battle.
Below are a couple of really great, brief videos to watch if you can’t stand any more on the subject. The first is a video of the (gentle) arrests made on Tuesday in San Francisco immediately following the 10AM announcement. The second is a great TV commercial made by the Courage Campaign, and I closed out with some funny via a parody by The Defenders – it’s pretty awesome and first in a coming series.
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If you made it this far, I thank you and appreciate all the well wishes and sweet thoughts y’all have been passing our way. If any FFAF readers are going to Meet In The Middle tomorrow, I want to know ASAP!
Confession: I first noticed this poster months ago, right after we elected Obama, I think. It’s stuck onto the front of a massive electrical unit, which hums rather loudly despite the fact that the 880 is a few yards away. I knew I wanted it as a focal point for a blog post but it just didn’t want to happen. Until today! I don’t know, I love it. I love that it’s red, white and blue, I love that it says DONE, I love that it’s got that prick SOB’s face on it and that the words “shining beacon of hope” are tucked into the lower right corner, for one to interpret however they best wish. I hope that I am posting this before the message is too obsolete, though I don’t think – as a person, a woman and a mother, a lesbian, nor for the country as a whole – that it can ever truly be obsolete at all. What do y’all think? Any similarly awesome political street art in your ‘hoods?
Scent: These are so fancy and awesome that I’m writing them up instead of a new fragrance. They are candles and they smell incredible. I wanted Stonehenge (smoked cedarwood and amber), which was much more handsome and gentleman’s parlor, but M picked Havana, which would have been my second choice – for the tobacco leaf and bergamot notes. They are potent but not overpowering, pretty to look at and eco-friendly (I think). Get your own Archipelago goodies here!
For a little bit of Oakland, pics of our delicious brunch at Somerset and more, check out the slideshow!
What: Silk blouse by Chelsea Flowers, James Jeans Dry Aged Denim. Wool beret from H&M, black patent pumps by MaxStudio, metallic leather bag by Dolce Vita.
Confession: M & I had another San Francisco date today. It was superfun, and we went to Baghdad Cafe for brunch, which is where our first ‘real’ date was (see, we made out the night we met at a lesbian club called Hot Pants, and then I was super wily for a few weeks, and then she finally caught me and we had a date…and then happily ever after, la la la). We want to buy the handsome house in the alley this photo was taken in – exactly between the Mission and Castro off 16th.
The gays at Mr. S fawned all over my beret and the one guy made humping sex moves when explaining to us that the leather can gradually stretch over time and with normal use, so to make sure we come back if any adjustments need to be made, and by the way, “Nice heels!” AWESOME. Below are some photos from this awesome Cajun gingerbread restaurant in Oakland. My parents used to come here on special occasions ALL THE TIME when I was very, very wee, and it closed kind of abruptly last year, before M & I had the chance to try it. Sad. Still, I’m glad we got some photos before we move and it gets torn down and everyone forgets all about it, boo hoo hoo.
Also, here are my foul split ends and a photo of just how spectacularly pretty it was today:
What: Black skirt from H&M, silk blouse by Chelsea Flowers (More Chelsea Flowers at Bloomie’s here). Satin t-strap pumps by Nine West.
Confession: Fuck this fucking ridiculous California heat. Thank God they’re predicting rain, even though (of course) it’s expected on Halloween. Having lived nowhere but the Bay Area my entire life, I suppose I should be used to this, but I have no tolerance for it this year. Maybe I’d feel differently if I still lived on the lake, but I’m right on the estuary next to the bloody bay, for chrissakes, and it’s demonic. Demonic and wrong. I know all you folks out there where it’s raining sideways (Brooklyn, holla) or snowing like mad (Bringle, Bowling) HATE me right now, but I envy you more than you can possibly imagine! Let’s trade places. As if anyone can say no to having M all to herself! (B, are you reading this? Hep me!)
PS. I totally wrecked this gorgeous, stupidly expensive shirt after wearing it just once. Instead of obediently taking it to the dry cleaner, I impatiently tossed it into the delicate cycle at home, thinking I’d get away with it. BLEED. Foul, bluish, sad bleeding into the oh-so-fragile silk. I almost tried to fix it with dye at home, but decided to, uh, give it another spin, so to speak. That’s right. Delicate cycle. Take II. IT WORKED! Am genius. Hurrah.
PPS. I realize that I look mighty friendly my confession photo, but really, I’m HELLA stabby right now.
