Gender Trouble

I got in gender trouble today
(can I get an "Amen" from all the Femme Girlfriends out there)

See, I was registering L* and I for a conference,
and I got to the part of the form to indicate gender.

(This itself is the result of a long struggle, so that when new folks join organization, they aren't confronted with the immediate male/female binary)

And the choices are
o-Male
o-Female
o-Other ____________

So after finding out what L* wanted put in her slot, I filled out my own and checked Other, and wrote in "Femme"

Some time later, L* contests, "I don't think you should get to put 'Other'"

It takes me some moments to actually understand what she's saying. Does "you" mean "one"? "people"? "I don't think people should get to put Other"? Or does "you" mean "you, Ktrion"? Indeed, it's the latter:

"I don't think you, Ktrion, femme, should be claiming transgendered space."

I hate being in gender trouble.

"I wasn't intending to appropriate transgendered space," I explain. "I was striving for a multiplicity of genders. In the vein of Anita Tijerina Revilla's research ¹ on the Raza Womyn de UCLA" "In spirit of Solidarity" I add.

L* allows that this might be OK.






¹See "Raza Womyn Re-Constructing Revolution," Ph.D. Dissertation, UCLA: 2004.

Hot flash

L* has been having hot flashes.
She's in chemo-pause, since
the chemo drugs brought her ovarian cycles to a screeching halt.
But sometimes she gets these hot flashes.

Time to bust out the chillow--
this chilly pillow with water in it to help her cool down
Right after we bought it, the weather turned cold
and the hot flashes went away
and the chillow spent the next three months under the bed.

The hot flashes are interrupting her sleep,
she wakes up and throws off all the covers
fanning herself.
(Much to the dismay of the the cold little ktrion, who wraps herself in blankets like an enchilada)

The other morning we were drinking our coffee in bed
and L* was hot flashing. She starts nudging the cats away from her
and flings back the blankets.

Ktrion says, "not for real, but in a story?
It would be funny if you--the character--
thought she was having hot flashes
and it really turned out that it was just the heat
of all the cats
snuggling up against her while she slept."

L* said:
"funny if you've never had a hot flash, maybe."

Meanwhile, back at the ranch....

Since last we posted, many, many things have happened. We're not necessarily ready to go into all the details here and now, but we do want to assure our friends and fellows that we're still kicking.

L* is now teaching a unit on hate speech in her class.

I'm trying to write a poem a week. In two of my classes, I'm currently teaching Beloved and Dawn, and its all starting to blur together in my head. With science fiction, i try to push my students in the "what would you do in her situation" direction.

Oh, Monday, you know, is the day of Remembrance for the internment of Japanese Americans. I use a unit from an old multicultural lit anthology which tells the students to imagine that they're government has just ordered them and their families to report for immediate relocation. (That is--the book I use has some really good material--poetry, photographs, fiction, memoir, government documents--but also includes really stupid "discussion questions.")

I actually tried to use this as a writing prompt back in the day when I was teaching al lit course. Many of my students were young Anglo men. The asserted that they would resist, even unto death. That is, that they would go down fighting. (and take as many as they could with them)

A similar thing happened recently in class discussion of Dawn, where several female students said that if they found themselves in Lilith's situation (captured by aliens who have "saved" humanity only to hybridize it through gene mixing) "I guess I would kill myself" one student after another said. (Actually that happened a little bit last semester, too, when I was teaching Parable of the Sower. Students said that, when confronted with a "hopeless" situation, they would kill themselves. (rather than trying to make a way out of no way). I'm both disheartened and amused. Disheartened that the young people--our hope--are so afraid and hopeless they would rather die than change. Amused because it seems to show how young they are still.

Two people have made the following mistake: they thought Ktrion was the one in the skinny jeans.

Against the cult of thinness

(with apologies to the two friends)

L* is the one in the skinny jeans.

And we rejoice, not because she's skinny--

chemo made her skinny--
chemo is why Ktrion screams at the television
when those diet commercials come on and say
"the pounds will just melt away"
I'll tell you what makes the pounds melt away
cancer and chemotherapy,
yes, the chemotherapy diet can work for you
take that appetite right away
you'll no longer be tempted by chocolate,
by carbs, by forbidden foods
by any foods at all
Ktrion is sweating now and turning red

We rejoice because the skinny jeans fit L*'s new form,
hug her new body, and say here we are in the here and now,
not in the suit, jeans, jacket, shirt that doesn't fit anymore.

We do not follow the cult of thinness
Whatever size L* is wearing (x)
Ktrion is wearing 10+x

We will love whatever size jeans
hug L's body
and give her back her mojo
and put her in the driver's seat

a fridge poem from oakland

a fridge poem, for andie, amy, and L*

La Suegra

L* got home around twelve last night.

As usual, la Suegra surprised us all with her strength and her good sense. She did need to be with her husband last night after the surgery. He was disoriented coming out of the anesthesia, and she was able to comfort him and ground him, and let him know that even in all that confusion, she was there for him and wasn't going anywhere.

I'm constantly amazed by her at times like this. Just in the last six (oh, my god, 6 ?) months I've seen her come through like this, where she goes from being the really nice, well-mannered, friendly nana we all know and love, and it's like she moves aside this curtain and you see the mastermind has really been running the show all along. You might think she's just puttering around in her garden, dispensing amiable advice to a generation who only rarely attends, and then you see that she really is rock solid, and braver and more together than you could possibly feel.

At times like that it seems as if the rest of us go from the sensible practical people we believe ourselves to be, to a slightly hysterical swarm of bees, alighting on one branch and then another, frenzied and confused, and she just shakes her head from behind her beekeeper's veil and goes on with what she has to do.

What the surgeon said

the
cancer
itself
produces bone

I
just took
my
time

Family thoughts

L* and her two brothers are waiting at the hospital with her mom today. It'll be an all-day wait. Her dad is having surgery, and it's expected to be an eight-hour affair. He looked real good this morning, and mi suegra was real confident after meeting with the whole team (surgeon, anesthesiologists, neurologist, fellows, nurses).

I'm carrying a little pocket rosary and praying in Spanish every few minutes. Not 'cause I'm scared, but just 'cause I want to send el suegro good thoughts.

I came into the office to work on my course readers. I'm brewing up some green tea, so I won't be too sleepy. I am, though. We got up at four this morning.

As we drove across the Bay Bridge at five-thirty, I thought of my mom in New Mexico, and how she might herself have been on the road, driving to work. It would be six-thirty in mountain time, and she does like to go into the office early. I thought of telephoning her just to say "I'm thinking of you" and afraid that an early morning call would worry her, and how maybe if I call her more often, she won't have to "worry" just because she hears from me.

La suegra wants to sleep at the hospital tonight with her viejo, and we're all wondering things like "should we allow this?" and "who-the-hell are we to 'allow' a grown woman to do anything?"

If you have a minute today, send a little prayer or good thought on behalf of my suegro, father-in-law, or, as my loquera says "since the law's not on your side, call him your father-of-the-heart."

Update
Surgery went great. El suegro is in recovery. oraciones de gracias

Choosing poems

I'm choosing poems for my lit course. Every Friday is going to be "Poetry Friday" when we take a break from the work of the novel and dip into some great poems.

Choosing poems is a tough proposition, because I sit down with a book of poetry and start reading---Today I was reading Lucille Clifton's Blessing the Boats and Chrystos' Not Vanishing. Two such amazingly different writers, who make you feel so much with words.

I realized today that Lucille Clifton writes a lot of poems about her dreams. I want to start doing that!

Skinny jeans

Write Stuff

Big Brown Girl wrote how her new years resolution to "honestly work on my writing." That's what I like to hear!

I've been trying to work more on my writing and work more on getting it out there. So if any of you out there have connections with a theatre company, Have I got a Play for you! This year, I'm really going to see if I can get my play, Familia is a Story We Make Up produced.

It's also got a lot of cool monologues in it, so you Latina y Latino actors looking for something new to do for an audition, drop me a line.

I was also really inspired to find out that this film about transgender Latinas, Some Reasons for Living, was actually produced in a Visual Anthropology class at SFSU: film students and anthropology students collaborated to produce these films. That's so rockin. Maybe I can start something like that with performance.

A whole lot of silliness from us

I was going through a "quiz" spell a while back--you might've noticed. What's your gang name, what's your accent. I finally stopped posting them after a while. It seems like cheating to post something that doesn't actually involve writing.

But this one has been spinning on and on in email, so I'm going to move it to here.

I took the quiz, What tarot card are you? on November 29.

You are The High Priestess

Science, Wisdom, Knowledge, Education.

The High Priestess is the card of knowledge, instinctual, supernatural, secret knowledge. She holds scrolls of arcane information that she might, or might not reveal to you. The moon crown on her head as well as the crescent by her foot indicates her willingness to illuminate what you otherwise might not see, reveal the secrets you need to know. The High Priestess is also associated with the moon however and can also indicate change or fluxuation, particularily when it comes to your moods.

Team Julien did it and Bendypalm was the Moon (and quite sure she should have been the High Priestess), and the Psychonueropharmacologist took it and she was the High Priestess. And so, I finally talked L* in to doing it, and so you see...

L* is The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

Now I'm starting to wonder. Four women. two cards. How many cards are there in this quiz, anyway? Are there enough variables? Or are is there more going on here. Does this actually have some deeper significance?

I'll go ponder in the bubble bath.

The Road of Good Intentions, Part II

When last you left us, we were in Vegas, planning a flight to Albuquerque Saturday a.m.

6 a.m. found us with a room service breakfast.

By seven, we're at the airport for our 8:30 flight. Which has been cancelled. As have the earlier flights to ABQ. They're doing them one by one, though. We stand in line for an hour and a half. During which time, we call Southwest airlines and book a flight home to Oakland.

Ktrion has been talking a lot on the phone with her mom, Doña Leora since yesterday. Doña Leora is very disappointed but keeps advising us not to come. She doesn't want us to go through all these obstacles only to be stranded at the albuquerque airport or somewhere on I-40.

Much subdued, we book a 1 pm flight back to Oakland.

By the way, did I mention we're getting by with only one cell phone?

L*'s cell phone came to grief on Thursday, when, in a suicide mission, it hid in the pocket of a hoodie destined for the washing machine. When it surfaced Thursday evening, there was water behind the windows, and no sign of life.

Ktrion had meant to change the outgoing message on L*'s voice mail, but never actually got around to it.

So late Saturday morning, as we're kicking our heels in the airport, we call in to check L*'s voicemail to hear that her father's in the hospital. Many phone calls later we find out that he's actually ok. It was a scare, and a side effect of one of the medications he's on, and they kept him overnight.

With that extra bit of excitement, we do finally get on our plane and fly back to California. Ktrion resists the temptation to kiss the ground.

A really nice woman from Southwest airlines has us fill out a form regarding to our mislaid luggage (which she confirms is prob'ly in Vegas and awaiting a trip to Albuquerque.

We cook one of our favorite comfort dinners, green tea soup with tofu. L* gets an email from her folks that they to have arrived home at last.

We watch The Girl in the Cafe and Ktrion weeps profusely.
We go to bed early.

Sunday morning, L* goes to Bikram yoga, and Ktrion goes to monkey yoga.

Ktrion calls Doña Leora, and once she's off the phone, begins weeping again, just because mom is so loviing and accepting.

After las dos get cleaned up--with Ktrion living up to her nickname of La Pokey, and L* providing the necessary prodding--we head out to Berkeley with a short list: cell phones, elephant pharmacy, andronicos.

The young woman of color who helps us at the cell phone place is pretty nice and doesn't even laugh at how hip we aren't. She tries to talk us into ringbacktones. We're too embarrassed to tell her that one of our goals is to downloand "Survivor" by Destiny's Child for L*'s cell phone.

It's after four when we get to elephant pharmacy. Ktrion has been feeling ache-y all day, but attributes it to tiredness and yoga. Elephant Pharmacy is a really fun place to check things out: alternative medicine, organic cotton baby things, cruelty-free cosmetics, you name it. Ktrion keeps feeling dizzy, but finds the water cooler which dispenses free hot and cold bottled water, and sets about rehydrating herself.

Ktrion's makeup is all safely god-knows-where in her luggage. So L* suggest that Ktrion get new makeup at Elephant pharmacy. Alas, the makeup artist has just gone on break, and the woman at the makeup counter admits that it would be better to wait till the makeup artist gets back.

L* and Ktrion stroll across the street to Andronico's where they purchase shrimp. L* has in mind a new year's eve dinner of stuffed organic anaheim chile's. The stuffing will involved shrimp and perhaps quinoa. Some details are yet to be worked out. In the produce section, Ktrion's dizziness manifests as being on the verge of throwing up. Yikes!

Back to elephant pharmacy, which really, our two are now too tired to deal with, but the makeup artist is a young woman of color not unlike our hip students, and so we decide to tough it out. Ktrion sits in the tall director's chair provided and all of her symptoms immediately disappear. No nausea, no body aches, no sensitivity to light, no dizziness.

L* takes the opportunity to slip out to the cart to try out her new cell phone by calling her folks. "Buy whatever you want," she admonishes Ktrion.

L*'s folks are home and tired and a little blue.

After these adventures, we are feeling really exhausted. Perhaps too exhausted to cook this sumptuous meal. And so: Thai food to the rescue. And we are, of course, appropriately humbled when we order our food "medium" spicy and it kicks our (collective) ass. It's so hot, Ktrion feels her ears itching. "Holy Mother of God!"

A cute toddler is fascinated by L*, and then by the open flame on the table keeping our soup hot.

We get home and play with our cell phones for about an hour, then tidy up and prepare for our evening ritual. L* lights the new, clean-burning candle at the altar. We take turn reading the novena's worth of poems sent to us by Dr. CPE last week. Then we talk about 2006 which has been a harder year than we ever could have imagined.

L*'s brother died this past June. This has been the first Christmas without him, and the whole family is struggling to find its footing and to reconfigure. His birthday will be January 2nd.

L*'s cancer--you know about. The detection, surgery, chemotherapy, aftermath. In the movies, they would always talk about "her cancer is in remission" or "he's cancer-free," but it's not like that in real life. There are no tests done that will then find "no evidence of disease."

L*'s dad has been living with cancer for ten years now. I'm willing to bet there's not a man with prostate cancer in all of Santa Cruz or Monterey counties who doesn't know L*'s father. He's done patient outreach, especially with the Latino community, and really taught patients to be their own advocates. Indeed, he and L*'s mom are our inspiration as patient-activists.

With these somber thoughts, and wondering what the new year will bring, we turn in early. Ktrion is now having chills and body aches, and continues taking the Chinese remedy "cold-stop" pills.

At midnight, we awaken briefly to the sound of firecrackers and gunshots, and neighbors hooting and hollering "Happy New Year."

At 2 a.m. L* has now manifested her own symptoms to whatever the two of us have caught: she's throwing up. And continues to do so throughout the night.

Sunday morning finds us sick as dogs. L* is sipping ginger ale and coke. Ktrion is drinking tea. Perhaps our bodies are trying to purge themselves of 2006.

We both bathe and put on loungewear, and Ktrion does a masque and then puts on her makeup, having realized how central it is to her feeling of well-being.

Ktrion spends some time programming numbers into our new cellphones from both our address books. She is struck by how rarely she calls anyone.

We hope this is merely a 24-hour bug, and that we'll be back to our normal selves tomorrow.

We are thankful that we are not now in eastern New Mexico, throwing up and anticipating a day of air travel on the morrow.

The Road of Good Intentions...

Despite our best efforts to be in New Mexico with Ktrion's familia for the new year, L* and Ktrion are at home in the 'hood.

We left OAK bound for ABQ on Friday morning, checked our luggage with all our clothes. We had one carryon bag, a tote bag full of knitting, grant proposals that L* is reviewing, all of L*'s medications (since she, unlike Ktrion, knows better than to put her meds in the checked luggage), a ziplock baggie full of carrot muffins, and some snacks bestowed upon us by our super-special neighbors (chex mix and honey roasted almonds).

About the time we were expecting to land in Albuquerque, our pilot announced we were turning around because the Albuquerque airport was snowed in, and they couldn't keep one runway plowed wide enough for planes to land. But we weren't turning around and going back to Oakland. No, we were landing in Las Vegas.

By the way, if you're from northern New Mexico, like Ktrion is, you already know that it rarely snows and NEVER accumulates in Albuquerque. It's a standing joke in the state that if there's an inch of snow on the ground, they have to close the freeways, because the Abq drivers are fishtailing their camaros all over the place. Not today. No, today is the all-time record for snow in Albuquerque. 11 inches in one day.

Now, we had some rather complex plans in place already, as Ktrion's Tía -- flying in from ShakyTown earlier in the day--was to meet us at the ABQ airport , and then we would rent a car and drive the 3-4 hours to UFOtown, New Mexico.

L* was dozing when the pilot made the announcement. When she woke up, I told her the news. There was a long pause and then she said, "If we're stuck in Las Vegas, I want a great hotel room, I want to shop, I want to gamble, and I want to drink hard liquor."

(That kind of attitude, I can deal with.)

She tells me to ask the Texas lady sitting on the other side of me, which casino in Vegas is smoke-free.

(I was too chicken to do it)

The first thing they did when we landed in Vegas, was take the unaccompanied minor out of the plane. I mean the absolute first thing.

The customer service representative (who so didn't want to walk into our plane and talk to us!) announced that our flight was officially cancelled, and we should go to the nearest gate to book a flight to whereverland, but that no planes were going to Albuquerque for the rest of the day.

Furthermore, the customer service guy announces, there are no hotel rooms to be had in Las Vegas. All the hotels are fully booked for New Years celebrations.

Despair lurks.

When my cellphone starts working, i see that Don Fon (my dad) has called and left only a PLEASE CALL message.

We disembark (or deplane, as they like to say now). L* and I are phenomenally fast, as it happens that we have the aisle and middle seat in the very first row. We slip out while other people are still asking "WTF?"

Ktrion calls Don Fon, who announces that Interstate 40, the main route from ABQ to all of eastern New Mexico has been closed because of snow. He mentions that Tia's flight was delayed out of Shakytown but there's been no news.

L* gets us on Standby for the 4pm flight to El Paso, Texas, in the hopes that we can rent a car there and then drive up to UFOtown (about 4 hours). And maybe we can stay with Ktrion's sister in Las Cruces, and eat a good dinner at La Posta. (Don Fon endorses this plan as there won't be snow on that part of the state.)

Tia calls in from Midland, Texas, where she has been re-routed. She wants us not to worry our little heads about her, as she has a friend nearby she's gonna call.

We subsequently learn that no matter where we decide to fly to, our luggage is going to Albquerque. Next the car rental company informs us that they will not allow us to rent a car in El Paso and then return it to Albuquerque.

The airline then announces that we can go down to the ticket counter and wait in line for an hour and a half and if the need is urgent, the agents will get us our luggage.

We're starting to wonder if we should phone Ktrion's cuñado, who frequently acts as travel agent for the extended family. (When the comadres go on their cruises, el cuñado books the ship, the flights, and any hotel rooms. And if any little thing goes wrong, he bears the brunt) However, L* and Ktrion haven't really spoken to el cuñado since an ill-fated visit to the midWest in 2004, and are hesitant. We spy one of those little internet terminals, and L* is off and running.

She finds plenty of hotel rooms to be had for the money, and after shopping around, books us at the Bellagio.



We book a Saturday a.m. flight to Albquerque.

We go downstairs to look at the hour-and-half line of people begging for their luggage and decide to skip it. We get a shuttle and head to our hotel.

The Bellagio is swank. Our room on the ninth floor has a king bed and a truly fabulous bathtub.

We head out to shop. First stop: urban outfitters, where L* tries on several pairs of skinny jeans. So cute! So hot! She looks like a rock star. Ktrion talks her into buying 2 pair as well as several cute little t-shirts.

We browse a lot because we're looking for a 2 oz container of bubble bath, pajamas para las dos, chones tambien, calcetines for Ktrion, toothbrushes, and bottled water. In addition to these we find a pair of fabulous maryjanes for Ktrion.



We get caught up in our quest for a black skirt for Ktrion to wear with her new shoes, but are unsuccessful. (not a flared skirt, not even a pencil skirt, really. a straight skirt. above the knee.) The gap provides the right gender of chones para los dos.

We're pretty walked out by this time, and are ready for dinner. Yeah, two vegetarians in Vegas. We finally decide to take it easy, and stop at a cheeseburger place to see if they have gardenburgers. Indeed they do, along with a tofuburger, and many other things we can eat. Ktrion starts consuming large amounts of diet coke to carry her through.

Then back to our hotel room to unload all our purchases. Then down to the casinos. Then...What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas...

Let's just say there were Blackjack tables and a High Rollers' Lounge.

Why didn't anyone tell me?

In the latest entry on Alicia's Story, she talks about the way the Cancer Center works, and the way that individual patients can slip through the cracks.

A few weeks ago, as I was sitting in the lobby of the ...infusion center, a woman stepped up to the check-in desk, in tears. From what I could hear, she was from out of town, and it was her first chemo treatment.

The receptionist was telling her she couldn't have the chemo -- her infusion -- without first seeing her oncologist, and he was booked the rest of the day.

The woman had made the infusion appointment before an appointment with her oncologist. That's not how it works. Doctor appointments are much harder to make, so patients make those first, then infusion appointments. Anyone who is a regular at the Comprehensive Cancer Center knows this. This woman wasn't, and didn't.

She stood at the desk, wringing her hands, saying over and over, "I didn't know. Why didn't anyone tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

The receptionist said, "Honey, I'm sorry no one told you this before, but this is how it works," and then told the woman the exact order in which she should plan her appointments.

This really hit home for us. Different people will give you incomplete information or tell you contradictory things. Like during the first chemo treatment, our nurse told us we didn't need to make an appointment or check in to come in for L*'s neulasta shot the next day. Then, we came in the next day, she said hi. We sat waiting for her to come give the shot for about twenty minutes before asking one of the other nurses where she was. "Oh, she went to lunch." This person then set us up with another nurse to give the shot and clarified that advance arrangements and check-in are necessary, and you should set that up during the chemo visit. That sounds pretty calm as I write it down right now, but really, cancer patients and their families are often at the end of their emotional rope, and it's just so wrecking when you're trying to do everything right, but you keep coming into these situations where it feels like you don't know what's going on and nobody tells you.

And it is really heart-breaking when you here the people around you stuck in these impossible situations. (I mean, unless you get all on your high horse about it and say to yourself "I knew to make the appointment! I did it the right way!")

What's more you also hear the people around you who are going through similar treatments but have to go to work tomorrow, or have to drive themselves home from chemo, or who are all alone in this. It makes you cling tighter to each other, but later (like now!) it makes you think about what you can do to help some of those people who need help.

One thing Alicia mentioned in her post is the Cancer Resource Center, and the services they offer. It is really important to know what's available, but--we learned--it's also important to know what's not available. There are flyers for all kinds of support that just don't exist. Example: Support group for LGBTQ with cancer. Sounds right up our alley, right? We call the number. The group is currently defunct for lack of interest. The person coordinating is currently on vacation. OK, fine. L* really didn't want to make another trip into the city and meet strangers anyway. Support group for lesbian partners. L* hands this flyer to Ktrion with a wink and a nudge, taking care of her caretaker. Ktrion calls. The group is currently defunct for lack of interest. The person coordinating is currently on vacation. Okay, assuming this person ever comes back from vacation, how will they ever know whether or not there's enough interest to restart the group? (mumble, mumble, grumble)

One day while we were waiting around in the infusion center for the chemo nurse to come get L* all set up, I was looking around some of the other flyers. I got real upset when I found a flyer for a support group for husbands of women with breast cancer. I was full of self-righteous homosexual rage: "why do they get this resource and we don't". L* pointed out, with great practicality, that for all we knew, the husband group was no more "real" than the lesbian ones.

Knitting Desastre

Okay, so all this week I was working on a knit cap for my nephew who is stationed in ALASKA. (Brrrr! even colder than Hell). I was making this cool pattern known as Mark's Butch, Macho, Roll-Brim Seaman's cap.

To make it, I took apart one of L*s winter scarves from when we were in Hell. It's alpaca, which is warmer than wool. A real nice manly grey and black merle.

I knit on the BART on my way to my department meeting. I was an hour early, so after doing some window shopping in the 'hood (they had the same things there that they have in my 'hood) I went to the meeting space and asked permission to knit for a half hour. This originally caused much excitement, because some unknown knitting implement (I'm guessing it was a needle gauge) had been previously found in the meeting room, so the program director was hoping it was mine and that it could be returned to me. Alas no. It was lost again. Perhaps it was filed away.

Anyway, I knit on BART again on the way home. I knit while waiting to meet with the loquera on Tuesday, I knit at odd moments on Wednesday, like when L* and I were waiting for our haircuts. Finally, while giving a 3-hour final exam on Thursday morning, I finished the durn thing. It was pretty cold in the classroom, so I idly put it on my head. It seemed a little big, but I was definitely warmer. I noticed a couple of students staring at me as they handed in their exams, but I was assuming they were taken aback by my haircut (since I went shaggy through the whole semester. and the summer. and maybe the spring as well).

So before heading back to my office, I stopped at the ladies room to peek in the mirror. Oh, my, my. It looked like I was wearing a a giant black shako.






Rolling up the brim didn't help. The darn thing is big enough around to cover a basketball up to the eyebrows. Too big around and not long (deep?) enough. (Sigh) Back to the drawing board.

What's your American Accent?

I shoulda posted the first quiz, from a couple of weeks ago. It was How California Are You? and I found it on Xoloitzquintle's site. The quiz was pretty biased in favor of the southland but it was still a lot of fun. It kept me and L* and even YoMo pretty busy. This one, I'm pleased to say, came out exactly as I expected. (Although it's scary how close I came to the MidWest)

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The West   Your accent is the lowest common denominator of American speech. Unless you're a SoCal surfer, no one thinks you have an accent. And really, you may not even be from the West at all, you could easily be from Florida or one of those big Southern cities like Dallas or Atlanta.
The Midland
Boston
North Central
The Inland North
Philadelphia
The South
The Northeast
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

My Gangsta Name

I guess if I'd chosen having my hair done over my makeup, I woulda been Esa Loca HomeGirl.

What's Your Gangsta Name? Your Result: La Llorona No llores tanto...sonrie...always remember...smile now, cry later!! Hit up the homegirls and have a girl's night out. Forget bout them problms, just leave it all behind!!
Esa Loca Homegirl
Latina Homegirl
La Baby Face
La Sexy Dreamer
La Baby Girl
La Gata Gansta
La Borracha
What's Your Gangsta Name? Create Your Own Quiz

Day of Internet Solidarity with the People of Oaxaca