Note: I HATE that I can’t really describe anyone because people will get mad. That’s why I don’t though.
Thursday.
Sometimes the Foundation sucks any remaining energy out of me, but sometimes it’s one of the places that makes Milwaukee uniquely Milwaukee. Thursday nights there are good because the Riverwest freaks and regulars are more populous than the UW queer frat-hippie hybrids. DiNo and TC were sitting at the bar when I walked in, which was great. I expected the only person I knew would be Skeletor Madman--have I nicknamed him yet???--and that’s ok sometimes, but approaching 10pm he’d be pretty hammered, most likely, and those types of conversations aren’t exactly relaxing. DiNo was jumping and squealing due to her excitement upon discovering a kickass house for rent in Bayview. That lady certainly can convey excitement/spazz out on a level equal to my own. Sometimes I think she surpasses it!

When they left, Cheezit was done with his shift so he sat down. I try not to talk to him at rapid fire speed for at least a half an hour after he gets done because I understand he needs to chill a bit after serving drinks to both amiable social drinkers and obnoxious alcoholics for several hours. Note that I didn’t say I don’t talk to him at all. I really don’t know who can just be sitting with someone and not say anything for that long, especially me. Man I hate how I feel like I have to throw in these self-deprecating remarks. Anyway. The vodka these days has been not been provoking the high energy buzz it used to, and I was thinking of just jetting, but then Yells A lot arrived, which was really surprising because Thursdays aren’t a night she goes out, generally. Some gay boys were flittering around her. That’s when things began getting fun.

But before that, oh damn--the nicknames--my Vacillating Arch Enemy, I guess, he came in. I could sense him behind me, there was a finger…in my ear….half way in there but bam! I grabbed it and pushed it away. I whirled around, gloating that’d I thwarted his wet willy attempt. I am the QUEEN of thwarting the wet willies, and I am also the QUEEN of distributing them. VAE has some sort of ADD and maybe Turrette’s, for fuck’s sakes. He can not stay one place for long. He’s definitely not the type to just sit on the bar stool for hours. He moves around the room, poking this person, chatting with that person, yelling in my face that my haircut fucking sucks because I can’t make it into two ponytails that protrude reservedly from my head like how I wore it in seventh grade. Cheezit, I pleaded, my haircut is cute. I guess, Cheezit replied skeptically, even though he told me earnestly and honestly that it was cute three weeks ago when he also told me to grow some eyebrows. Of course I reminded him of this in my shrieky voice. So then VAE is asking about our internet connection and suggesting strongly that we go download some footage from this Minutemen movie that had shown earlier that evening. I’d forgotten about it and Cheezit had to work. Two seats opened up next to us. Let’s move our chairs! I instructed Cheezit, so that Yells A lot and her friend could sit next to us. I shouted for them to sit, and they did, but then this lanky pale hair dyed black hipster with hat blocked the space for our seats. Then some other hipster fool got in the way. Cheezit easily grows impatient during such situations. We sat. Then hipster two left. Go Jen go! Cheezit prompted. We pulled our stools just two spots down the bar.

The two short skinny gay admirers admired Cheezit while I reported to him my latest boy news and that I’d gone to a counselor. He hoped I hadn’t paid for that shit, because, as he put, if I did I should just be paying him. I really can’t do anything but laugh in those situations. I asked him if he thought I owed him a chicken dinner. Quick, earnest head nod. He wasn’t joking, I could tell, because his eyes were not smirking. A lot of people probably owe you chicken dinners! I asserted. Quick, earnest head nod. Then he’s conversing with someone else and the crinkly eyed gay I didn’t know introduced himself. I remembered him from 1997. He said so, he’s your boyfriend, referring to Cheezit. NO! He’s NO ONE’s boyfriend! I said, the honest truth. Well I saw you holding hands, the gay said. Oh my god! I shouted. You must be projecting your feelings onto me bigtime, he and I would NOT be holding hands. Oh he said. I said you’ll have to fight Peaches Fan for him. Crinkly eyed said I have to fight everyone for him. I have to fight him for him. Hahahahhahahaa! I laughed. I leaned over to gesture to Cheezit, and Crinkly Eyed freaked out. Don’t tell him don’t tell him don’t tell him! Like he can’t sense it, I thought to myself. I won’t! I promised Crinkly Eyed, not even bothering to try to explain how it came to be that I was allowed to sit next to John and babble seductively (haaa!) in his ear.

Of course, the minute Crinkly Eyed went to the bathroom, I turned and reported the conversation to Cheezit, who completely delighted in hearing about it, especially the line about how he’d have to fight himself for himself. Ah, to be so coveted! By so many people he doesn’t have any romantic interest in. That must be a real pain in the ass. (Seriously--it can make you feel awkward. I know this from limited experience.) While all of this was happening, VAE engaged in THREE more attempts at wet willy-ing me and I thwarted them very very well. Once I felt him looming behind me and turned around just in time. I don’t remember the third time anymore, and the last time was when he was on his way out. I just sort of casually glanced over my shoulder, and there he was with his finger in his mouth. I pointed, hahed! I doubt he will try that again. But I wonder what else he will do. He better not talk shit about my hair anymore, though.

Easter Weekend

Friday: Worked a half day because I put in more hours on Thurs because classes were canceled for Easter. 80 degrees in Wisconsin in April. Managed to be somewhat productive and took my car down to an independently owned shop to get an oil change and a tune up. Sassyj and I checked out two girlie stores on Farwell but I didn’t see anything that I liked.

The hot weather was making me so antsy, but I was so tired. I went home afterwards and rested for a bit, then made a very mediocre, nutrition less meal and got in a quick walk down to the lake and back. Couldn’t decide what to do. I hate that feeling. Call this person, call that person, go to this same place I always go, go to that other place I always go, stalk friend who works at bar. No, not appealing. There was someone I really wanted to hang with but something made resist making the call. Just not a very fulfilling day, although I did talk to someone else who seems somewhat fun on the phone. Seems. Don’t know yet.

Saturday: Woke up to a missed call from Sassyj, who was about to take her about-to-turn-four-year-old-son to the zoo. Then, she suggested, we could go shop at H & M, as we hadn’t checked out the new store at Brookfield Square yet. I had to race to get ready--didn’t even get in my morning poop! On a Saturday--but it was worth it. I got to feast on some leftover Dinotots (Dinosaur shaped hash browns featured on the kids’ menu at Baker’s Square, but I’d recommend them to anyone) and macaroni and cheese. I hadn’t been to the Milwaukee zoo in 10 years at least, maybe longer. It was not aesthetically pleasing because the leaves haven’t sprung from the trees yet, but it was cool watching Ben react to the animals and I LOVE bears and got to see a black bear--it woke up just as I was about to leave--and the tiger was really cool. I always slightly cringe at zoos because really the amount of space these animals have is way too limited, but I still think it’s good for kids to learn about animals.

I spent way too much money at H & M. I enjoyed doing so, don’t get me wrong, but I still feel a little guilty. Oh well, let’s see if I can hold out and not go there again until fall. We ended our long day by chowing on some Taco Bell. Bad! But gooooood!

I was soooo tired after being outdoors in the very pleasant high sixties weather and experiencing the there‘s-so-much-I-want at H & M rush, so I rested for awhile when I got home, then went to Blockbuster to rent Crash, and Stage Beauty, starring Ms Danes (it’s average--it’s set in the 1800s when women weren’t allowed to act on stage, and Billy Crudup’s character was a well known actor who played Desdemona in Othello, and his whole identity was called into question after the King reversed the order and Claire’s character and other women were allowed to act on stage. Of course it was more about the man’s identity confusion, but it was still pretty interesting, and slightly amusing at times) and my phone starting ringing and vibrating--2 calls and 2 texts in like 15 minutes! I ended up meeting up with a friend from Racine who was looking very cute, and we had some drinks at Comet, with another boy from Racine I recently met who is very Racine-like (sassy mouthed), and hung out at Riverhorse, Foundation and Uptowner.

On the way back to our cars, this fucking Arab guy slapped me on the ass so hard it stung for about an hour. I really should have punched him or at least kicked the fuck out of his shin--what else can a short, petite girl do?!?!--but I just cussed him out. I was pleased the guys didn’t get all macho, but was amused that one of their main concerns was “How could he do that when she’s with two dudes?” Men and their egos! ;)

When I got back to my house, I saw the bunny that hangs out in my courtyard all the time--no surprise but still pleasant--AND I saw a hunchback raccoon leisurely hanging out! I love animalz!!

Didn’t get a lot of sleep but somehow managed to get through Easter Sunday at my grandma’s. It was the usual--my uncle farting at the dinner table and throwing insults in my grandma’s direction, to which she responded “Up your ass, buddy!” Oh, grandma! My role model! I ate half a fucking rotisserie chicken, two servings of potatoes, carrots, green beans, two helping of that really bad for you fluffy pistachio pudding shit with fruit which queerly tasted so good, tons of olives and celery, a piece of cherry pie and a smidgeon of apple pie, and later I even tasted the dead pig! Ham! Man I just want to eat a lot of meat.

When we were leaving, my grandma offered some of my deceased (hi grandpa!) grandpa’s wildlife/nature/etc books. I took the two I remember frequently perusing as a child-- Hamond Nature Atlas of America and Birds of America. I don’t need any more books, but memories of my grandpa, I’ll take.

I like the Utne Reader. This issue’s features focused on the evolving ‘definition’ of love. The editor’s note was nicely written. Her observations that “a good [relationship] is based on self-respect, clear intent about priorities and purpose, and commitment to growth. But even with a relationship built on the best foundation, the fact remains that love is essentially risky. Our only safety lives in gratitude for the lives we share and for the miracle that we continue to love, against all odds” is not particularly original, but well said. We have to respect ourselves and our mates/friends/family members and communicate. COMMUNICATION. It’s so crucial. Why do we not know how to do this well? Such reminders are well warranted.

I learned, from the magazine, that $10 billion is spent per year by the UN, while $1.04 trillion is spent on military expenditures. Again, not too surprising, but the numbers are pretty insane.

This might be embarrassing to admit, as a feminist and leftist, but I never knew why people adorned their cars with those hateful Jane Fonda traitor bitch bumperstickers until I read this issue. I knew she participated in something anti war, but I didn’t understand why she was individually such a target of hatred; well, I guess it’s because she led that FTA (Fuck the War) tour during the Vietnam War. Hmm, so people hated on her, even though thousands of people, including GIs, attended? Typical. The woman’s got to take all the blame. Fucking unpatriotic heathen whore. So dumb.

This really set me off--A single person working a minimum wage job would have to put in 72 hours per week to earn $19, 223 a year. We all know min wage isn’t shit, but, again, to have it all laid out like that--that’s so scary and sad. Even if it were a married couple each working such a job, and they only worked 36 hrs per week, that ain’t shit, especially if they have children. This country makes me sick.

There’s a really cool sounding documentary called Desire that follows a group of teenage girls and highlights issues of class, race, gender, the usual stuff, but it sounds really interesting because apparently the girls and the filmmaker experience confrontations. I want to check it out and maybe show it to a class.

Billy Bragg is cool. I liked his comment, “The left just reacts to things as they turn up rather than having an overarching ideal for what society could be.” How apt and succinct. The left does need to get it together. The right has their skewed vision. We have to compromise, come together, and shape ours.

There’s a bunch of stuff about democracy in the iss I haven’t read yet, too. Very informative, articles aren’t too long. I used to diss the Utne for just being a compilation of previously published articles, but now I find it convenient. I don’t want to search all day on the internet trying to find digestible news. I want it to be presented to me.

Tangentially, an all white Milwaukee jury voted that the cops that beat the hell out of a biracial man last year were not guilty today. And the cops may have turned up the dead bodies of 2 young black kids who’ve been missing awhile. Someone probably will get shot tonight because the weather turned warm. This fucking city….