Images of women flaming like torches adorn and define the borders of my journey, stand like dykes between me and the chaos. It is the images of women, kind and cruel, that lead me home—Audre Lorde, Zami
I had to rent a vehicle today after my water pump blew and wound up with a big-ass Dodge king-cab truck. Sent an email to my pal Tuscaloosa describing my ride and she wrote back “I would pay good money to see you driving that truck, Ms. thang.”
I blasted Lucinda on the way to class because, well, it just didn't feel right to play Mozart in a big-ass truck. Was also thinking about the fact that anyone who really knows me already knows that I am just a redneck dressed up in prof clothes at heart.
Example: If you make me froggy enough, then I am always gonna jump, damn the consequences.
And I’m always thinking “Huh, wonder what would happen if I attach a hook to that doohickey and a cable to this doohickey and jump on it” or “Bet I could jump off that thing and land on my feet” or “Wonder what would happen if I attach this steering wheel to that motor and stick a couple of wheels on the thing, then strap myself in, wind 'er up, and go?”
And finally, I swear on a stack of girl scout cookies that I once successfully outraced a cop on a rural red clay road while driving my extremely fast and highly modified 350-small-block, big Holley four-barreled, posi-track rear-ended Camaro way, way back in the day of my extremely mis-spent and thoroughly lived youth.
Plus, apropos to nothing at all except the fact that I just thought of it, my ex Tree can vouch for the fact that, for the first several years after we bought a two-story house, I climbed out a bedroom window onto the top of our one-story garage, did a chin-up onto the second-story roof, then flipped up onto the roof backwards to clean the gutters.
(This worked fine till the first time I slipped on pine straw; then we bought a decent ladder.)
Okay. What I meant to write before I went off on that tangent is that I am a member of a hilarious secret lesbian sex society called Delta Phelta Thigh and would like to report that, during our founding initiation, we made a list of all the women with whom we’ve slept (or at least as many as we could remember).
Since many of the initiates have lived in the same place since grad school, our list wound up resembling the interlocking sex chart on The L Word. And, since several couples were initiated together, I can report that I know of at least two affairs were not documented at all.
I’ve been in two long-term relationships for most of my adulthood but had a few wild bar-hopping years before that, so my list is relatively shortl. It’s quality, not quantity that counts though, right? : D
Meanwhile, the first line of Euclid's Elements is "A point is that which has no part" and I'm sure that I must have a point here somewhere!
BEST BUMPERSTICKER: Greed Pollutes.