Lumps R Us

I thought Robin Andrea put that quite appropriately in a comment a while back- it’s so true. And today is the day I go get smashed (whoa! I just flashed on the trash compactor story! Maybe that’s part of my intense dislike of said appliance.) It’s not yet 6 am here and I woke up when Rich left at 5 am to visit his other family go consult with A-B in St. Louis for the next couple of days. It’s too late, or early, to consider any kind of sleep aid (that last swig of Prosecco going flat in the frig, for example) so I’ll just launch into the topic of gay men to fill the time between now and when I CATCH A TAXI BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL AM NOT DRIVING INTO THE LOOP,PARKING IN A STRUCTURE, GETTING LOST AND GETTING SMASHED all in one morning. It’s important to choose your battles.

So here’s the thing: I put up my post about the wine class at the culinary institute (more on Napa soon; the visuals are out of this world) and initially, there I wrote a line that read something like, "who do you think is taking this more seriously, me or the two gay guys next to me?" Clearly, I was. You can tell by the wrinkled brow and prominent dewlap. But that’s beside the point. Within moments I got all in an internal tangle about putting "two gay guys" in my post. I thought, great, Vicki, now EVERYBODY thinks you "have a view" on this issue. It’s sort of like saying, "some of my best friends are…" You fill in the blanks: gay men, workaholics, tipplers in the wee hours, jello wrestlers. Right- well, it’s true- they are.  I guess, more to the point is do they wish to be defined as such? Why do I feel compelled to define them in any fashion?  Are they defined by their gayness? Their BIG LOVE of work? Their lime gelatinous phosphorescence and men’s boxers?

No, they are not. These are people I love. So, why do I sound like a stereotyping numb skull when I put that in a post? Why do I instantly worry that everyone judges me, thinks me narrow minded and dated, wipes me from their blogroll and loudly proclaims that their very favorite blogger is someone else? So, I go in and change it to "the two guys sitting next to me."

Except, my three remaining readers, those two guys were so flaming it wasn’t even funny. Well, it WAS funny. They sat down, instantly drank all of every varietal in front of them (put there for mixing purposes, via pipette only) and while completely sloshed, discussed their sideways misadventures through the Napa and Sonoma valleys in a fashion that had me snorting wine out my nose…what can I say?

Meanwhile, the Divine if Somewhat Scattered Miz Silverthorn gets away with a post on The Brokeback Boys and everyone thinks it’s hilarious. Even Mrs. Babette, born and bred in the Misery Synod (NOT an open and affirming affiliation of Christians) makes clever little comments that include the words, "gay, butt, queer." She’s cheeky, she is. And Wende comes aboard and announces that she loves Mary (not THAT Mary. Or the other biblical one, either. Rather, that sassy but scattered skinny- limbed redhead, Miz Silverthorn, above all others.

Am I bitter? No. Just up too early, in anxious anticipation of a trip to the "Somebody,Somebody Fancy Breast Care Center." I can’t remember the name. I know it’s not "Brokebreast Mountains or Molehills." It will come to me. Named after the big donor of compacting machines.

I just want to go on record as saying the person I would most like by my side at the moment, since Rich is not an option, is Laaawwrry from St. Petersburg, aka GiGi (gay gardener) who would be gently petting me, cooing "daaaaling" and "dare heart" and saying, "listen love, thas as nothin’ ta worry aabout. It’s jas a few lumps. Them doctors need to pay for them big ass caahs somehow…" Either Laawryy or my yoga teacher, upon whom I have a crush. Think of me what you will.
Those Takins. (Budorcas taxicolor) Source of Jason’s Golden Fleece. The National Animal of Bhutan, as in, Where in the World is Bhutan? It’s one of the top three places I want to visit in this lumpy lifetime. Takins are a vulnerable species and at the Lincoln Park Zoo they are included among the animals in the Species Survival Plan. So, it is a wonderful thing that we have two new babies this year, one born moments after Rich and I visited a week ago. I saw the mother pacing nervously in that ponderous, I-can-barely-stand-up-I-dont-want-to-lie-down way that brought on sympathy pains, lo these many years later. I said to Rich, "it’s any time now" and sure enough, she gave birth within a half hour. Is this new little girl cute or what? At one week of age, she spends most all of her time divided between sleep and scaling her mother, aunt, father and cousin as though they are the foothills of the Himalayas. Related to the musk ox, she’ll be odoriferous soon enough. Incidentally, yesterday I passed the "predator/prey" test which includes all of the big cats and hoofstock, aka ungulates. Do you know who is Artiodactyl and who is Perissodactyl and how one of them could possibly be related to Cetacea (whales)? Taxonomy is complicated and evolving. Heh. I also gave the "operant conditioning" public talk in the African Ape center but there were so many unruly primates around that nobody much cared about Ulysses and his ability to respond to sign language so he can get his teeth brushed. Ah well, moving right along. Next week it’s African mammals, birds and fish, including those comics, the Meercats.)


23 responses to “Lumps R Us

  1. Did I miss a post? Wishing you WELL on your trip into the city. I agree, GiGi would be a wonderful comforter for you. It will indeed be interesting to hear more of your adventures in Napa. I didn’t think about Sideways when I read about your going there. For a movie that was supposed to be so great, I couldn’t stand it…but never mind. The cinematography was wonderful, and that’s all I have to say about that.

    I’m going to be in Chicago the week of July 16. Is there any chance of seeing you?

  2. I seem to have missed out on the whole gay men thing, too.

    I love the precious animal. I’d like to hug it.

    I got over trying to beat myself up over posts a long time ago. But, being a conservative political scientist in the blogging world, I piss off people all the time whether I’m trying to make a point or not. I have readers and commentors who have regularly visited for a long time yet don’t dare put me on a blog roll. C’est la vie.

    If someone is gay, from my experience with friends who are gay, they have no problem being identified as such. And yeah, sometimes it’s just obvious. The photographer we hired for our wedding photos was a dear friend of mine. She was a proud lesbian and I was rolling on the floor laughing when she decided to tell me she was gay, in the beginning of our friendship. When I responded that I already knew that, she was truly taken aback. She thought it would be some big bombshell. Silly woman.

    All the pc stuff in today’s speech is so silly.

  3. Laughed out loud reading Karen’s comment above. My husband is a drummer and the keyboard player in one of his bands made a big announcement to all of us that he was gay one evening many years ago. We all looked at him and said something clever and witty like, “Uh, yea. Okay.” It was a little bit like he announced that he had hands at the ends of his arms. But, of course, he was taken aback as well.

    Honestly, my dear, when I read your description of the two men as being gay, my first thought was that perhaps they were gay. It’s a little like trying to show how completely not prejudiced and bigoted you are by describing the one black person in a room as wearing a red shirt or something. Sometimes, merely describing someone by their obvious features cuts through a lot of confusion.

    Good luck on the boob smashing today. I’m sorry about all that and hope it goes well and that you get only good news as a result!

  4. You handle life’s little lumps with aplomb.

    I’m old enough to remember when gay meant happy, but I feel like a kid again after doing nothing but studying and practicing yoga every day since the beginning of June. One week down on my 200 hours!

    A certain yogini
    Who goes by “Our Vicki”
    Has a crush on her guru,
    though he’s gay.

    His adjustments she longs for;
    He’s buff and he’s strong! Lord,
    Perhaps we should pray
    he’s just fey?


  5. I was going to do a post on the two male mallards that had taken to visiting our yard in the mornings, going for a float in the pond, and then ambling about looking for things to eat. They were an adorable pair. I did a little research on mallards and found that something like 20% of the male mallard population pair off together. Roger and I have a lot of gay friends, but I couldn’t figure out how to say that without saying, “some of our best friends…” So, I gave up the idea of the mallard post, even though some of our best friends are paired-off male mallards.

    Good luck on the smashing. Hope it all goes well.

  6. Hope the smashing goes, well….smashing 😉
    It was a pun I couldn’t resist. Enjoy the taxi ride through the loop.

  7. I thought you looked like you were having an absolute blast, and found nothing wrong with your gay guy comments.

    FYI, it’s Therapy Night (of the alcoholic kind) tonight. My friends and I are meeting on the patio at Emil’s — NE corner of Washington & Wacker — after work. Feel free to join us, especially if you’re already in the Loop!

  8. I just wrote this on my blog (before coming here)(and have had the same frets about it):

    “We watched Notes on a Scandal Sunday night. It was great– boy, does it get any better than Dame Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett? But now when I use my new fountain pen to write in my journal, I wonder if I am going to turn into a batty old British lesbian… Not that there’s anything wrong with any part of that except the “batty.””

    So, I feel your gay pain.

    Maybe Rich could just take care of the lumps for you? He seems to have a knack. Wishing you a truly benign experience.


  9. A very good name for a mammography center: Mountains Or Molehills!

    I wish you smashing good results, Vicki, and I do mean benign ones.

    The Takin is an animal I’ve never hard of before you, and he is darling! I am sure that his family are relatively like the Himalayas for him, at least for now….LOL

  10. Aren’t you supposed to say “… the two gay guys (not that there’s anything wrong with that) next to me …”

    Really, mammograms and their near kin always bring to mind the old saying about putting your tits in a wringer! Hope it was more pleasant than that and brought good news.

  11. I never heard of Takins. And I didn’t know they played King of the Mountain, either. They must like Chicago, though, for I hear it gets colder’n a brass monkey’s pair, which cold is what Bhutan is like, too.

  12. Drinking that much wine would make someone happy … is that what you meant?

  13. Oh, I hope you’re the right kind of “smashed” at the moment.

    As for loving Miz S best. Uh, I thought that was a given by all of the internet. (Seems to me I read that very thing on your blog recently???) And I ADORE you! I’d profess my undying love on the internet if that would help. Oh wait, I DID! I even WROTE that in a freakin’ blog post just as recent as last Thursday, but you were too busy drinking wine with the gay guys to notice! (Not to busy to leave comments for MIZ S, but as we all love her best, that’s forgivable!)

    You are still linked on my blog, but when you changed your blog name I changed the name on the link to reflect your new image. Ahem.

    I’m not going to take any of this delusion seriously, as you’re lumpy and entitled and. . . ADORED. Kiss, kiss. (And of course I’m fickle. I thought that was the prerogative of youth?)

  14. Nice save, Wende. Vicki knows she is Mrs. Babette’s favorite blogger. No convoluted explanations needed.

    Vicki: I held handstand in my teacher’s training today!!!

  15. I am much maligned these days. Good thing I adore all of you. Especially those of you with SMUDGE on your noses. 😀

  16. Ok… I am a white Mommy of a black son. I absolutely “love” it when folks ask me (in a whisper) if it is okay to refer to my son as black. What I want to reply is… “Ummmm…. well, yeah…. that IS what he IS. Duh! I guess I never realized there was something wrong with being black until you felt the need to whisper it! Dumbass.”

    So, gay men are gay men. Period. All is well. No harm done.

    God, I hate this politically correct crap.

    Thanks for giving me an opportunity to rant 🙂


  17. I think Wende had been drinking when she proclaimed me her favorite blogger, so no worries there.

    Good luck at the Fancy Breast Care place. I always weep quietly and discreetly in the little changing room because it’s all so stressful.

    Bonnie IS incredibly cheeky. Always has been. I know I’ve mentioned this before but I am still in shock: once she made a m@strbati0n joke in my comments section. Really, she did. A mother of thousands. A good Lutheran. It’s shocking.

  18. I have decided that now that I am an Old Faht™, I can relax a little, worry less, be cheeky. And I am sure I will start to do that one day soon. Yup. I will.

  19. So at this center, care is provided for Fancy Breasts?

  20. I’m late here…hope your visit to Fancy Breasts went well. How in the world can you be so incredibly funny at 6am?

    I didn’t get the whole gay thing. Gay is gay. A few of the best friends of my life are gay men. They’re more honest and sincere than any female friend I’ve known…

  21. If men had to have “testiculograms” the same way women had “mammograms”, I guarantee a new method for detection would be available within a year! I thought there was a new method, where said boob wasn’t smashed but rather very comfortably left hanging in a special table…..although after writing that, it doesn’t sound particularly fun either. Hope things went well.

    Here we are into the deep muscle bruising phase of the knee or leg injury. It is swollen, it is itchy, it is red and purple and yellow and blue. Thank goodness I never wear mini skirts anyway!

    Love the little Takin…. reminds me of “Trakin”, the mystical world on Dr. Who where the princess “Nyssa” lived. No I am not kidding.

  22. Hoping that your trip to the FancyDancingFancyBreastCareCenter went well. I lived with a Gay (Not That There’s Anything Wrong With That) Roommate for three years. We would get some of the funniest questions. I miss him so much. Who else writes to me about Squirrel Fishing? Nobody.

  23. For some reason I’m thinking of Rachel when she was three telling everyone in her class, “You’re my best friend.”

    And of course, she thought they all were.

    We’re all best friends, right?

    Anyway, I hope lumps R not you for much longer. And I hope you find a good gay man to help you through. If not, all of your best friends are here.

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