Uh-oh. Ladychat leads to all sorts of new trouble!
Anika is trying to tempt me to chop off my very long hair – without any planning or consideration! I haven’t worn it short since 1996. What do do, what to do?
Luckily she couldn’t find a salon with open appointments – saved by lack of planning!
Though I am now seriously considering the Complete Massacre of Hair, if I’d done it today then I would have missed out! Laura decided that I needed an Eighties Flower Girl do, and proceeded to implement this fantasy in the front row of Bus Stop while Ade intoned over the microphone I can’t believe Bee is getting her hair all done at karaoke.
When I left near closing Ade made the whole bar shout Bee, you are a traitor!
Though fully half yelled Bee, we love you! as a follow-up.
The Bookatorium opening was remarkable in many ways, not least of which was the pure, brilliant, and innocent enthusiasm of the organizers.
It was also very much an underground punk event, Portland style – rare in this city! When I turned up Nikki clasped her hands together and said We just met and you’ve only been gone a few hours, but I missed you!!
Oh, Pacific Northwest – I love you! The main attraction was Benny, and it was honestly worth the whole hassle of downtown on Art Walk to see him working.
I asked David if he wanted a balloon hat and he looked at Jody and I all kitted out and replied No, I had a happy childhood, unlike you two!
Good point. The majority of my early life was given over to secrets, scandals, strife, and sorrow. Those are not the themes of this summer. Give me carousel rides and balloon hats!
The other day I had a late breakfast at Glo’s with a group of people of indeterminate sexual orientation who identify as women – albeit the sort who do not have any relationship whatsoever with mainstream beauty standards or similar.
When I described the Learning Ladychat project a bike messenger in the crew was openly horrified and asked Why the hell would you bother?
I explained my admittedly quite esoteric reasons and she looked appalled, but then pointed at my mouth and asked Is that MAC lipstick? — and we were off!
The whole group fell into proper Ladychat for approximately four minutes before we realized, recoiled in shock, and did big congratulatory high fives.
Then we went back to talking about our more usual topics, like maggot-infested leg wounds.
This would be my primary challenge with learning – I never actually hang out with ladies!
Sasha is one of the few women I know with allegiances in both camps, but the last time I saw her she kept telling me that I’m welcome to rub my nipples on her eyelids any time I like. I presume such invitations do not constitute Ladychat, though I could be mistaken.
Yesterday I went to a Seafair party with the Himsa crew and found myself in a very (as the kids would say) hetero-normative crowd, split cleanly down gender lines as people lounged, played football, and went out on a jetski.
I hung out with Natalia, a lady to her very core, and had quite a fascinating conversation about life as an expat (she is married to a Spaniard and they go back and forth), raising kids, haircuts, and the fact that Byron does not look like a ladykiller. Just another example of why you should never judge by appearances!
We laughed and laughed for hours and at the end I asked for a review of my developing Ladychat skill set. Natalia opened her eyes wide and said It wasn’t at all unnatural or forced!
Sarcasm? Compliment? Either way, highly entertaining!
Last night at eight Dawn Riddle called to say Want to go swimming?
This was of course a baffling plan since she was supposed to be setting up the gallery, but she is a Portland person – time works differently down there!
I grabbed towels (the punks never think of these things) and headed for Mobius, where an hour passed with great hilarity and some impatience as various people joined and then wandered away from the group.
It was dusk when we finally made it to Madison Park. Dawn looked around and said I only have a bra and panties, these people look like a bra and panty crowd! before stripping off and racing into the water.
I sat on the grass as the sky changed from dusk to night, watching the stars shine and my friends cavorting.
Dawn and Jesse needed to clean up and wash clothes after so we headed back to my very odd apartment, where we gathered around the refrigerator, collectively amazed by the automatic icemaker.
My living situation this summer involves matching cutlery! A toaster! The amenities of grownup life I have never known! I could offer them seltzer but sadly nothing else – my cupboards are bare.
Marisa called around midnight to say she had run into my daughter watching The Gossip show at Berbati’s. Yes, it is true – my social life has now officially been invaded by marauding offspring! I told Marisa that my apartment was full of Portland punks and she replied What are you going to do tonight? Buy some PBR and sit on a porch? Did they arrive by bicycle after spending a lot of time talking about which bridge to take?
Hilarious! That would have been the usual scene but I decided it was much more entertaining to corrupt them with karaoke at the Crescent. We were talking and laughing so much I felt like I had dislocated my jaw.
At some point the issue of birthdays came up and I said something about January birthdays being singularly sucky. Jeff said I celebrated your birthday!
Sophie rolled her eyes and commented You mean on her birthday you thought ‘shit, I’ve gotta write Bee email’!
I replied Because myspace prompted you! Whereas, if you recall, I flew from England to hang out with you on your birthday last year!
Jeff tipped his hat, laughed, and said I’m working toward manifest destiny on a big guilt wagon! Go west, young guilty one!
This made me laugh so hard I nearly fell off the stool. Just then Jeff and Sophie fell victim to love jail once again and the rest of the crew made wretching sounds or covered their eyes:
The Learning Ladychat research has thus far included a long conversation with a makeup artist who accurately guessed the brand and name of my lipstick and eye makeup, several discussions with assorted people at parties about topics so banal I could not keep track long enough to take notes, and – get this – an actual dinner party.
My observation is that the ladies mostly like to talk about exercise or beauty products (sometimes a combination of the two). They are also given to intoning things like I have horrible cramps over the dinner table.
People, that is a phrase I have never uttered! Beyond that, I do not want to know about your menstrual cycle, no matter how complicated and grotesque the details!
No offense intended to the ladies in the crowd – I am merely a novice at understanding your mysterious customs. This is not a LADY issue. It is a body issue. I similarly do not want to know details about your intestines, or testicles, if you have them. Ick.
Luckily Jody showed up to rescue me before I stabbed myself in the eye. We drove around the city half the night talking about proper subjects like literature, religion, and where people purchase crack (the venues have changed since I moved away).
Not because I would ever need to know. I was just curious about what my aunt might have seen in her last days.
