The demi-goddess' new clothes

Time for an overhaul, I thought.
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The L word S. 5 Ep. 10 'Lifecycle'

Given that most of this week's episode screamed Camp Winnelesbo, this review will focus on just that.

First, let me remark on the fact that it took Mama Chaiken a whole 11 episodes to do the honourable thing and give some credit or mention the early and unnecessary demise of Dana. 11 episodes, Ilene! Ah Dana, we miss you. And a shout-out to my SO's Aunt Donna, who is a breast cancer survivor!

By the end of this episode, however, it was obvious that Team Dana would never ride again. In the meantime, we had more than 30 minutes of dykes on bikes (yeah, yeah, easy, I know). And how well equipped these damsels came. Bette, kitted out to the T and even speaking tour de lesbo speak (pull up, to your left). Kit, fit, and on a bike. At least she had some screentime this eppy. Even Shane managed to get that wiry puny body of hers to accelerate.

Speaking of Shane: this relationship with Molly is just the next in a string of one-way streets. Meanwhile young Nikki has already let her beady eye roam along the non-existing curves of Shane's bod. You just know that we are heading for a fall. I'm also worried about the Tasha and Alice storyline. Of course, it's the L Word and we've had five seasons of this, and a sixth in the making, so we've come to expect this, but still... And did you know that there was segregation in gay clubs? I guess that maybe I haven't been riding the bus long enough to know.

But on to more exciting things because this is definitely the season in which the L Word discovered sex. I can just picture it now: meeting in board room - bunch of suits around the table talking to Mama Chaiken. "But Ilene, you need to think about the male demographic". Yeah, their and my hormones were surely in a tizz as Nikki girded her loins in the Taj Mahal tent after which Jenny added a nice purple penis to the already quite pretty picture of Nikki in a harness. I had to pinch myself to remind myself that this was American TV.

And American TV wouldn't be quite complete without ads. At some point, this episode edged conspicuously nearer to a Tampax ad. It had chick flick written all over it. Although when Alice and Shane joined Tina in her tent, beer bottles in hand, and Alice said 'What the fuck?", for a moment there, I definitely had a case of déjà vu. Remember the wassuuuup ads for Budweiser?

Cue campfire delight. For a moment there I thought that they were going to play spin the bottle and already I could visualise some interesting kissing combos. Alas, it was a game of 'I never... ' and well, I never would have guessed that the Bette/Tina/Jodi showdown was going to happen there and then. But as the discussion focused on the definition of cheating, the shit hit the fan, and Jodi stomped out of the magic circle leaving Bette and an unhappy Max in her wake. SO at that point reflected on the fact that Bette doesn't "really" have any friends (except Shane maybe).

Jenny's summing up of the situation reflected our thoughts exactly. She really is Mama Chaiken's alter ego. Bette and Tina belong together. Word!

* Props this episode to Kit for making some hideous headfashions work anyway. Girl, we miss your fro!
* Quote of the day: my pussy is so numb(Jenny). It will be even sorer tomorrow, dear, from all that riding.
* Rose Rollins and Jennifer Beals have the best laughs. So infectious.
* I *like totally* didn't know The North Face created such palatial tents or I would have actually gone on a camping trip before. This of course hinges on there being a socket in the tent to plug in a hairdryer, in which case I would consider roaming the wilderness.

And finally: I wanted to illustrate this post with a pic of Nikki's pretty buttocks in all their strap-on lusciousness, but I thought that would be rather NSFW. I'm sure that you will be able to find the image somewhere in cyberspace to satisfy your wicked curiosity.

Belgium's candidate for the Eurovision Song CampFest

Catchy tune, eh? What do you think, zero or douze points?

9 March - Vita Sackville-West's birthday: the book of Revelations

"I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn't even feel it. And yet I believe you'll be sensible of a little gap. But you'd clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become."

Vita Sackville-West in a letter to Virginia Woolf, Jan. 21, 1926


A second girl child will be named Dora.

We've visited Sissinghurst on several occasions. I wouldn't mind getting married in its White Garden.

I own several books on the Bloomsberries.

Parental (di)stress part II - going that extra mile

I've been reading a lot of other blogs lately, seeing a lot of friends lately.

What shines through in all the blogs, books, discussions is that we all feel that we are coming up short when it comes to our parenting skills and practice. Think about all the things we worry about:
- are our kids getting enough sleep, food, love? Are they potty-trained, and when should they be? Are we making them the right lunches? Are they getting their fish oil and vitamin intake? Did we give them too many cookies today?
- what about their interaction with other kids, i.e. are they being bullied, are they nice, are they bullying, do they have friends, etc.?
- performance at school or in playgroup? Are they happy, well-balanced, or stressed out and tired? Are we expecting too much from them?
- are they wearing the right outfit for carnival? Did we spend enough hours making a fantastic outfit? Did we bake the right amount of cakes?
- are we giving them the right answers? Are we helping them on their way through to life? Did we make the right choice when making the choices that we did?

I could go on.

Did our parents worry like we do? Or is this just typical behaviour of parents in this century? And are all parents confronted with these worries?

And what about news items like these:
- Florida mom uses car power washer on toddler
- toddler force-fed liquor, had broken arm
- 4-year old shows up to elementary school drunk

So let me hear your thoughts on parenting, being parents, worries, etc.

Why do we worry in the first place? I'm beginning to think that we are all doing a fine job. So three cheers to us, because it seems as if we could all do with a pat on the back.

Commoditization

Did you know that my time costs money?
And that keeping four vials of sperm in some weird container also costs money?
And that to use them you also have to pay money?
That to sit down in an office with a famous doctor of reproductive medicine for 15 mins. also means you need to get that roll of twenties out?
The world is all about commodity: who wants what, who's got it, who'll give it to you in exchange for something else.

You might have guessed that I'm tired, overworked, irritated, aggravated, and annoyed or I wouldn't be so ironic about something which matters so much to me.

Anyway, there you have it. I had my last hamburger today for the next five months. I will be gradually relinquishing coffee, wine, raw meat and fish, double cream and a slew of other favourite foods in coming weeks to prepare my body. I will even go take that Pilates class on Tuesday evenings (unless Fresco can convince me to take a Latin dance class instead).

Because in June, project baby is on the rails and we only have four more goes left at getting it right.

My body is a temple. Repeat: my body is a temple. Repeat: my body is a temple.

Can I have a glass of wine now please?

Dainty shoes

Charlie Chaplin, The Gold Rush (1925)

For another dance scene featuring Chaplin, point your mouse towards that famous excerpt from the Great Dictator, where he dances with a globe to Richard Wagner's Lohrangrin overture.

Thanks, but no thanks: on a change of sexuality

One of the topics on LesbianLifestyle.com this month is the following:

If your fairy Godmother told you that you could be a heterosexual tomorrow by the touch of her glittery wand would you allow her to change your sexuality and why or why not?

This was food for thought as this is a question that I’ve been asked many times over the past years. My answer is usually a firm no but I never really took the time to think about the underlying reasons of my answer, which is why I thought it would be good to do so today.

The first and only thought that surfaces is that I really have had an easy deal. Unlike other men and women, my coming out (if any) was not a complex, harrowing, draining process.

I must have been seven when I (subconsciously) experienced my first infatuation with a woman. The location was the Langelinie Pavillion in Copenhagen, she wore a hot pink evening dress and her name was Elise. Over the years, many women would take this first woman’s place. And yet, I never questioned my feelings for these women. They were there, I attempted to deal with my feelings for them for the most part and continued to gossip about boys, neck with them when the opportunity presented itself, date them and later sleep with them.

This was all to change in 1993. My best friend at university, who had been in love with me at one time but never told me about it, and whom I subsequently fell in love with, one evening confessed to me that he was gay. I became his date on his forays into a world that was relatively new to us: the world of gay men and women. After ten months I told him that I couldn’t take it anymore and that from now on he was on his own. Maybe this was the sign for him to get moving, because that evening he found himself a date (the beginning of a ten-year relationship). As I was roaming the venue, trying to entertain myself, someone stood out just that little more than the other women. There was nothing show-stopping about her, except the irresistibly seductive twinkle of her eyes. Next thing I knew, I was kissing her. It was as if a floodgate opened.

I will not go into as much detail about what followed. What is important is that I realised right away that I had always been in love with women but simply never had the opportunity, in my extremely straight surroundings, to exercise that love. From one day into another I swapped men for women. I didn’t give it much thought and I expected the people around me to follow my example. For the most part, they did. I can count on one hand the people who could not deal with my decision. The oldest person in my life, my gran, said ‘as long as you’re happy’. My mum had a meltdown and hated the girlfriend. My youngest sister said ewwww.

My life has continued much in the same vein: my mother adores my partner of 11 years, we have a child, are considered a couple by my family, my SO’s employer and the school, our neighbours. We don’t consider ourselves the ‘only gay in the village’ and we are not in your face gay either. I never made any statements about my sexuality, I simply steamed on.

In Italian they say ‘Icche’ c’e c’e’: whatever there is, there is. In hindsight, it pretty much sums up my attitude to life and being gay. I take it at face value, dealing with whatever is coming right at me. My recommendation to my fairy godmother would thus have to be that she needs to reserve that fairy dust for worthier purposes, such as a second baby, maybe?

The L Word S5 Ep 9 - Liquid Heat

Was this episode an homage to the Coppola family or what?

Starting with the L-Word version of the Godfather, with Don Bette and Sonny Kit as her sidekick. All we needed was a horse’s head in Bette’s bed once Jodi finds out what’s really going on. And the end of the episode only required different lighting since the music was already there, et voilà, a Sofia Coppola movie. OK, I’m exaggerating, but still.

Let’s get down to business. Literally. As the last 5 minutes or so were all about getting down (and dirty?).

Welcome back Max for starters. Maybe I won’t be making friends here but I actually thought that was hot (to quote next season’s new guest star, Paris Hilton). I admit to being puzzled at first: let’s face it, Max made his entrance into the L-world as Jenny’s boyfriend, then transitioned, then did Billy (albeit under the influence of the hormones), then shifted back to Grace and now is with Tom. And for the first time, also a bottom instead of a top, as was the case with Billy. I had the odd sense that for Max it was quite liberating to be with somebody who really was interested in him, after overcoming the whole gender issue.

On to Alice and Tasha: it is getting hotta in here. Alice is seemingly back to normal again and it is quite cute to watch them. Especially the scene where Tasha is ‘feeling’ the humdrum noise of the rush hour. Mind you, if I lived there, I’d have to move. Waaaay too much noise.

I really felt sorry for Shane at the end. This is the straight crush that won’t go away, but it has also put Shane on the receiving end for once. Her just desserts, some might say. Do you feel as if she is nothing else but a sexperiment for Molly? Who just wants to drive her mother back out of the lesbian world and into her father’s arms? We’ll see.

Jenny/Nikki/Adele: teen sex and an incredulous Nikki locking lips with Adele. A lot was made of the letter that Jenny had written, but what if Adele had re-written it?

Kit is in overdrive this episode, although the scene where manages to keep her baby sister under her thumb and immediately reads Bette like an open book is quite touching.

Jodi is getting the short end of the stick, whichever way you look at it. In that sense, this episode was rather strange, if you look at Bette’s scenes.

The scene by the pool: Jodi leaps into the pool, liberated as she is (visions of Marlee Matlin in children of a lesser god). The scene with Bette and Jodi by the pool was cruel. I can see why she wouldn’t be so happy about Jodi’s attentions, excessive as they are. A bit of overacting there, I think. That said, saying ‘I love Tina’, while knowing your lover can’t here you, is downright unpleasant. The scene in the elevator is quite revealing at another level, as they don’t actually discuss feelings, but limit themselves to superficiality (you surround yourself with beauty, we have the same friends, etc,). I also have a pair of comfortable slippers, but at the end of the day, I’m not married to them, if you see what I’m getting at. A relationship is about much more than that, and the ‘I love you’ seemed so hollow, and added on an afterthought. Also note that Tina says affair, while Bette wants to come home. Add to that that Tina is still chatting up the AD and what do you get? Two ships in the mist, albeit some hot mist.

Love in an elevator(1): I know, I know, give me one chocolate and I want the whole bar. It had been built up in such a way that I expected a major explosion. It was a minor bang. The previews led me to expect more, for some reason; there have been better scenes between these two in the past. But as my SO remarked: I hate the Tina character, but I find that I can watch her when she has onscreen time with Bette. These two are simply made for each other.

And finally: double D’s rumble at She-Bar. I’m not familiar with Miami customs but I did find this scene a bit strange. Does this mean that you can’t survive in WeHo if you’re not in with Bette and her crowd? I also got the feeling that Fuck no, Denbo was still in the driver’s seat as the new kid on the block. Although her lover Cindy seems to want to dispute that. Laughed at Jenny’s comment (she’s pyschotic).

Weirdness:

- Nikki’s nipple tape.

- Molly’s ‘weird, boobs’ comment.What a major turn-off.

- Visions of Olivia Newton John in Grease every time Jenny was in the picture. And what’s with the identical shoes for Adele? Is Jenny that blind?

- How interesting to play a lesbian in a lesbian series, and watch your real-life daughter acting getting her freak on with another woman, while both of you are straight?

- Fun: the shot of Phyllis upside down from Molly’s perspective.

- A thought: looking at the excess fabric around Laurel Holloman’s waistline, could it be that she is once again with child? (Which is why we are careening towards a happy end for Bette and Tina, going for baby number two in the next season?)

* A shout-out has to go out to Joyce Wischnia for wearing that tank top and giving Phyllis a dose of her own medicine.

* Refrigerator scene: how many of you wanted to be that tub of ice-cream!

!! Photo courtesy of Dorothy Surrenders.

(1) Aerosmith brought out this song 13 years ago. I'm feeling very old all of a sudden!

Little Red is back in da hood!

The munchkin had started chanting the song of Little Red Riding Hood this week, prompting me to finally open that cardboard box replete with Ladybird books, fairytale books and many more treasures of my childhood.

I have been raving about these books since I was a child, because the artwork, to me, was quite beautiful, although highly romanticised. The princesses looked like real princesses should (Ancien Régime style) while the men looked like burly hunters in medieval dress. Go figure. But they were hugely appealing and they seem to be working for the munchkin, who naturally pounced on Little Red Riding Hood with glee.

SO and I though found ourselves reading this book with a certain degree of discomfort and a running ironic commentary.

Little Red takes her grandmother cake and a wine, because grandmother is ill and according to her mother, they will do her good. Sounds like someone is a wino, no? She is expressly told to walk carefully and not to run of she will break the bottle and have no wine for grandmother. Wow. Call AA presto.

The wolf is a dashing large dog, who, in human form, would be reminiscent of a winking Lothario or even Joey from Friends: 'hey, how you doing?". He subsequently tells her to smell the roses, instead of walking straight along the path. Of course, the guileless creature caves in under such manly pressure and makes straight for the grasslands carpeted with flowers. Can you blame her (with such pretty illustrated daisies)?

However, when Little Red has gathered so many flowers that her arms were full, she begins to think of her grandmother again and returns to the path. Harrumph.

Arriving at grandmother's cottage, she has some up close and personal time with el wolfo, who then gobbles her up in one mouthful. SO clearly had forgotten the lunch and dinner part, and said incredulously: "Nooooo, what do you mean, he gobbles her up?". Enter the burly woodcutter, aka Little Red's Big Daddy, who kills the wolf with one fell swoop of his dangerous axe. Sharp objects around children, tsk.

And out of the wolf's humongous stomach jump Little Red, and her grandma, who is miraculously revived after a bottle of wine. See, I told you, definitely a raging alcoholic or a very fine wine.

Red then goes on to swear to her mother that 'As long as I live, I shall never again leave the forest path when you have warned me not to do so'. Yeah sure, until you're a teenager and your hormones kick in and you're not even capable of thinking clearly for the next ten years at least.

I tell you, fairytales never quite have the same magical effect when you're an adult.

The munchkin, of course, lapped it up like cream.

Next installment: Rumpelstiltskin, the fairytale equivalent of Michael Jackson, in preparation of our visit to the puppet theatre on Wednesday.