The WWF was back this morning and I guess because they are a week older and larger they brought a referee, a very large pigeon from the attic. So the sounds this morning were bang, bang, chitter, chitter, whhhuh whuuhh bruoooo. At 6:40 am on a Sunday this is disturbing to say the least and rather ironic to be disturbed by wildlife while reading a book on Gerald Durrell.
I’m home from the boobie mangle. OWWWWWW! I’m glad I have something to put in it but OOWWWWW! I have cystic breasts and it feels like it’s all going to bust. Why, oh why, do they have a target on the outside of the machine? I know it’s where they orient the poor dear girls but it is rather distressing to see a target. How about a really silly happy face?
I don’t have yard long gazongas now but it feels as if I should. Like I could walk on my knuckles and they would swing back and forth in some sort of martial timing.
I did discover one thing, the tech doing it said that most women are more tender in the left breast than the right and that no one knows why. They think it’s because it’s closer to the heart. Why the hell don’t they study this? If they can do a lot seemingly silly research why can’t they find out why it hurts more to mash the left than the right. This is important research people!
People at work were appalled yesterday that I wouldn’t say breasts, I said tits. Well sorry folks, all mammals have teats/tits and that is the proper biological term for all mammal’s milk dispensors but they also don’t like it when I say I’ve been spayed. I also pointed out that a whole mountain range is named Big Tits and they should just deal with it. What the heck did they think the Grand Tetons were?
I was going to treat myself with a trip to the Huntington after but they didn’t open til noon and I wasn’t going to sit in the parking lot for 2 hours even with a good book. Plus Alison is home sick with vertigo and I needed to stop at Rite-Aid to get more Benedryl.
Tomorrow is “T” day. I have a mammogram. I haven’t had one in 3 years because I didn’t have any insurance for a bit and because I hate the thought of vice grips on tender parts. I realize it can save my life. One saved my cousin’s life. I just don’t like seeing what looks like miles and miles of my flesh squished painfully between 2 planes of glass. Oh, yeah and standing there shirt and bra off in the cold while they develop the film is so much fun. Because then you have NHOs and they want to take another. Or the year I stupidly was reading a book with a lesbian sex scene and got a little hot and bothered when they decided they wanted another view, boy, was that fun. NOT!
I have this awful fear that once they have stretched out they won’t snap back and for the rest of my life I won’t be able to go braless on the weekends because I’ll trip myself and fall. And if Alison isn’t home they will find my rotting carcass with the stretched out boobs and laugh. Or that I will be able to jump rope with them. I’d have to invent some sort of rollup device to winch them back into a bra. And what if it broke? Would they go flapping around like the “walloping window blind”? It’s bad enough now that I can’t run braless or I would give myself 2 black eyes and knock myself out.
No woman designed that machine ’cause if men had to put their tender parts in one no way that machine would have gone on the market. The only revenge we get is when a man has to have them because the less you have the more it can hurt.
So, I’m going.
I ‘ve been reading this book and laughing my butt off. I find it hysterical that as a native and some one born in Hollywood I have the same beefs that he does. But as a native who has seen the city change over the last 50+ years. I ascribe it to a lot of the yahoos that move here from other places. When I was a kid people were a lot more polite. If 4 people came to a stop sign they kept pointing to each other to go first not try to slide thru when it wasn’t their turn and give you the finger when they got honked at.
Hollywood has really changed. For one thing it used to be a safe place not any more. I spent a lot of time in Hollywood as a kid. My parents belonged to Hollywood First Presbyterian Church and I belonged to the gang of many small hooligans. The church hooligans were the PKs, TKs, MKs, CKs and EKs, and none of us were without sin. ( translation for those not brought up in a church: MK = Missionary’s kid, PK = Preacher’s kid, TK = Teacher’s kid, EK = Elder’s kid, CK = choir kid) We spent 3+ days a week there and knew every inch of the church and a lot of the neighborhood. We used to escape during second service to the liquor store to buy candy until the neighborhood changed in the late 60’s and 70’s and our parents found out. We climbed the bell tower to see who could stay there and not have to leave because it hurt. We found out we could climb up behind the organ pipes in the attic and look out at the congregation during church. We knew how to find our way into hiding places that adults had long ago forgotten about and we used that knowledge all the time.
But Hollywood became the center of Hippie and drug culture and the neighborhood around the church changed. The day some guy tried to solicit me when I had walked to a bookstore on Hollywood Blvd Mom lost it I was about 16 at the time and wearing a white mini dress with tiny red roses and mary janes. ( It was in at the time). Some guy was honking and waving at me and asking me how much and I had no clue what he wanted so I went back to church and asked. Can you say naive and stupid, boys and girls?
Now a lot of people in LA are rude. They come here to be famous and act stupid. One hit wonders stand in grocery stores and hope someone recognizes them. Natives don’t care. LA is full of one hit and never hit wonders. Waiters and shop help who think their going to be the next big thing and they get bitter and nasty. People come from other places and set up their own ghettoes here and act like natives are intruding.
On the other hand, there are nice people here if you can find them. Marvelous things to do and places to go. Good weather and lots of variety. I just wish people would mind their manners. LIke not reading the directions on your car alarm so you can set it in the middle of the night without honking the damn horn. Or praying loud in Hebrew at 3 in the am outside my bedroom window. Or the silly queen next door with the harem of drunk fag hags who can’t tell the difference between midnight ( the time he thought it was [ at least he was funny]) and 2:30 on a Monday morning when we get up at 5:30am.
Anyway, I’m enjoying the book.
Last night we had a horrendously loud and close thunderstorm and I remembered what else happened in the Summer of ’77. I got struck by lightening. I’ve carried a charge ever since. I used to love thunderstorms but not after that. Ali likes to tease and ask me to go look out and see if it’s raining. She thinks I’m a spoilsport when I make her turn of the TV because of the cable in a thunderstorm. But gee, if you aren’t supposed to be on the phone you probably shouldn’t have the cable on either. It struck something because we heard it and then we heard the sirens. Exciting night.
I rarely look at the top of the bookcases in my bedroom. They’re 8 ft tall and I have my old stuffed animals up there. How often do you look up when you already know what’s there? Anyway tonight I did. And the bear on the end made me smile.
That bear had a very hard time getting to me. In 1977 I was working at a Girl Scout camp for the first time up at Big Bear Lake. About half way through that strange summer,( by strange I mean it was the year Elvis and Lady Baden Powell died and other weird shit) a UPS truck pulled into camp. That didn’t happen very often. Anyway, I never got CARE packages so I knew it wasn’t for me. So I went out to the Arts & Crafts hut and didn’t think about it. When I got back from teaching a class I went to get my mail. Surprise for me! I had a package. A very, beaten up box. It looked like it had been sat on by gorillas after being in a football game. Inside was a bear. Cam had sent me a bear for no good reason other than he thought he should. But it had gotten lost and it took them 3 tries to find the camp.
I got the bear down tonight and gave it a hug.
yanked from in the woods Continue reading