In the last twenty four hours, my neighborhood has needed me in strange ways.
Last night around 9pm I decided I needed a Sprite and onion rings. I drove a few blocks from my house to a fast food joint (yes, evil, but still). There was a young man and his teenage friend standing at the order speaker. They stepped away, and the young man asked me if I could order for him, he'd give me his money, because the interior was closed and the drive through wouldn't serve him if he wasn't in a car. I said sure. Seemed like an easy way to help a neighbor out. He ordered a burger and sprite for himself as well as 4 kids meals with apple juice. I pulled up to the window and he handed me his money through my window. He said he was getting some late dinner for his two kids and his babies' mother's two kids. He worked a day shift, she worked a night shift. The whole thing seemed benign and normal for a in-town city neighborhood. Once I finished handing him his juice boxes, he said, "Baby girl like you has got to be married." I said, "No, not married." He responded, "You gotta friend?" "Nope," I said, "no friend." He smiled, "You looking for a friend, baby girl? 'Cause I'm a good man. Not trifflin like the other brothers on Troost." No, I said to him nicely, I wasn't looking for a friend, but I was happy to help him out tonight.
This afternoon, I stopped by the Wild Oats to pick up some vegan burgers for Roommate and me. A man in a wheelchair, pretty scruffy and dirty, with both legs amputated at the knee asked if I could push him the three blocks up to the top of the hill. Sure, I said. So I pushed him up to the top of the very steep hill. Along the slow walk we chatted a bit. His speech was really slurred, and he wasn't making a whole lot of sense. "Hey," I thought to myself, "after I take my nighttime meds I get slurred speech, nonsense, and stumble around. Who am I to judge him?" He could be drunk or high or have brain damage or be whacked out on pain meds or be on some heavy anti-psychotics or any number of things. I tried hard to understand what he was saying. He got a big laugh when I said, "Damn straight its easy for folks in this neighborhood to not help you up the hill as the cruise up it in their 4-wheel drive SUVs!" When we got to the top of the hill, I shook his hand and said, "Well, sir, I hope you have a good weekend." He pulled me in for a half-hug, and proceeded to nuzzle his mouth into my neck, kissing me several times, thanking me and telling me he could "pay me back for being so sweet." I had to pretty forcefully push him away, at which time I smiled and told him to take care of himself.
Both seemed like such odd yet totally normal city moments. Helping out your neighbors when they need it. I don't have much of any money to give anyone, especially considering my new agency wide pay cut, but I can do what I can. Yet... there is something disturbing that each interaction turned into a sexual innuendo. Do men think they can have any piece of ass that offers them a kind word or gesture? Or do men, particularly those marginalized by race, ability, and/or socio-economic status, also feel the need to offer their sexuality in exchange for the goods and services they and their children need to survive, a desperate need and obligation known to women so acutely?
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Sex(ualiteit) Werker
Ik ben een sex werker niet, maar ik ben een sexualiteit werker. I'm not a sex worker (exactly), but I am a sexuality worker. I spend a good portion of my working hours researching and teaching the finer points of human sexuality to the young and the old (senior citizens are the fastest growing population of STI cases in the US). There is a certain joy when I take my laptop to the IT guys and don't bother to erase the bizarre semi-pornographic website that are considered research in my line of work. I have to know what those crazy kids are doing, after all!
A recent highlight: I regularly visit Robin's Nest, the independent/transitional unit at a local behavioral and mental health residential facility for adolescents. Robin's Nest has 12 girls in house ranging in ages from 15-17. I meet with them (and their LCSW) once a week to teach from our curriculum- contraception, STIs, healthy relationships, gender and sex 101, pelvic exams 101, consent, etc. This past week was my last session with the girls for a few months. We did a go-around in which each person had to say one thing they had learned in the past three months. Carrie loudly proclaimed, "I know now that I shouldn't call people hermaphrodites, I should call them intersex." Good, Carrie, good. Someone else mentioned they had learned about dental dams. The lovely LCSW asked with total innocence and curiosity, "I don't understand. When would you need to use a dental dam on a man??" This put me in the situation of (ever so delicately) explaining rim jobs to a group of girls who think pelvic exams and oral sex performed on a woman are the "nastiest" things they have ever heard of. As you can well imagine, the rimming conversation had the young women falling off their standard-issue institutional, very uncomfortable "day room" furniture.
Today I tabled at a University health fair. Thankfully, I was not seated next to the Spiritual Health group, but rather KC Free, a local totally free health clinic that also does STI education and HIV case management. I sat alongside their Youth Prevention Specialist. To our fellow tablers, we surely sounded like freaks. We discussed the finer points of hepatitis b transmission through fecal matter; our anger the Saran wrap now comes in "vegetable steamer" variety, which means we now have to caveat when we tell the kiddos they can use Saran wrap as a dental dam; the lack of general knowledge that flavored condoms really shouldn't be used for vaginal or anal sex; and whether we prefer to use bananas or dildos for correct condom use demonstrations.
Ah! Yes! All in a days work!
A recent highlight: I regularly visit Robin's Nest, the independent/transitional unit at a local behavioral and mental health residential facility for adolescents. Robin's Nest has 12 girls in house ranging in ages from 15-17. I meet with them (and their LCSW) once a week to teach from our curriculum- contraception, STIs, healthy relationships, gender and sex 101, pelvic exams 101, consent, etc. This past week was my last session with the girls for a few months. We did a go-around in which each person had to say one thing they had learned in the past three months. Carrie loudly proclaimed, "I know now that I shouldn't call people hermaphrodites, I should call them intersex." Good, Carrie, good. Someone else mentioned they had learned about dental dams. The lovely LCSW asked with total innocence and curiosity, "I don't understand. When would you need to use a dental dam on a man??" This put me in the situation of (ever so delicately) explaining rim jobs to a group of girls who think pelvic exams and oral sex performed on a woman are the "nastiest" things they have ever heard of. As you can well imagine, the rimming conversation had the young women falling off their standard-issue institutional, very uncomfortable "day room" furniture.
Today I tabled at a University health fair. Thankfully, I was not seated next to the Spiritual Health group, but rather KC Free, a local totally free health clinic that also does STI education and HIV case management. I sat alongside their Youth Prevention Specialist. To our fellow tablers, we surely sounded like freaks. We discussed the finer points of hepatitis b transmission through fecal matter; our anger the Saran wrap now comes in "vegetable steamer" variety, which means we now have to caveat when we tell the kiddos they can use Saran wrap as a dental dam; the lack of general knowledge that flavored condoms really shouldn't be used for vaginal or anal sex; and whether we prefer to use bananas or dildos for correct condom use demonstrations.
Ah! Yes! All in a days work!
Monday, September 24, 2007
Business + Art = Porn
Here at KCDC (K-City Dyke Central), we have some very loud upstairs neighbors. Their very large dog barks, on average, 3.0 hours straight every evening between the hours of 5pm and 12am. Occasionally the small dog friend will join sporadically. If we are REALLY lucky, the yappy dog upstairs next door creates a lovely trio. They thump in extremely loud, even more random patterns at unpredictable hours. In addition, they have a lot of loud sex. Usually the loud sex consists primarily of a rhythmic squeak and thump above Roommate's Room, dinning room, living room, or library (aka sun porch). They keep very odd and irregular hours.
Several weeks ago Roommate and I determined they must be harboring a fugitive giant. Much hilarity ensued. However, tonight Roommate hit the nail on the head: They are running a web-cam porn site from their apartment.
Oh yes! The landlord did tell us the women were a business owner and an artist. Brilliant, woman, brilliant! Sex at random hours of the day and night? Porn site! Not a lot of human sex groans? Porn site! Thumping? Porn site! (Switching to the Mormon Trail set is probably quite a production!) Irregular hours? Porn site! (What time is it in the London public library?) Loud dogs? Well.... lazy pet owners! Yes, yes. We all know that business + art = porn.
Several weeks ago Roommate and I determined they must be harboring a fugitive giant. Much hilarity ensued. However, tonight Roommate hit the nail on the head: They are running a web-cam porn site from their apartment.
Oh yes! The landlord did tell us the women were a business owner and an artist. Brilliant, woman, brilliant! Sex at random hours of the day and night? Porn site! Not a lot of human sex groans? Porn site! Thumping? Porn site! (Switching to the Mormon Trail set is probably quite a production!) Irregular hours? Porn site! (What time is it in the London public library?) Loud dogs? Well.... lazy pet owners! Yes, yes. We all know that business + art = porn.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
Mabon
It is the Autumnal Equinox. As a self-declared neo-feminist-pagan atheist, there are no gods or goddesses to celebrate and honor, but it is a time to mark change and self.
The light and dark are in total balance. However, summer is over and fall has begun. The harvests have been brought in, and we should be thankful for the plenty. We have enough. We are enough. Yet, things are beginning to die. The anticipation of the winter is acute, sad. At the same time that the death and darkness begin, the autumn growth are scattering their seeds for next years spring.
It is a time to give back, as simple as Roommate and I walking through the neighborhood at sunset picking up trash. It is a time to take in the last moments of summer sun, as simple as being aware of the sunset- tv, radio, computers all turned off. It is a time to honor those wrongly imprisoned, particularly those imprisoned for their beliefs. This is as simple as talking about Jena.
So blessed be for the autumnal equinox, the end of summer, the beginning of fall, the scattering of seeds, the blance, and the paradox.
The light and dark are in total balance. However, summer is over and fall has begun. The harvests have been brought in, and we should be thankful for the plenty. We have enough. We are enough. Yet, things are beginning to die. The anticipation of the winter is acute, sad. At the same time that the death and darkness begin, the autumn growth are scattering their seeds for next years spring.
It is a time to give back, as simple as Roommate and I walking through the neighborhood at sunset picking up trash. It is a time to take in the last moments of summer sun, as simple as being aware of the sunset- tv, radio, computers all turned off. It is a time to honor those wrongly imprisoned, particularly those imprisoned for their beliefs. This is as simple as talking about Jena.
So blessed be for the autumnal equinox, the end of summer, the beginning of fall, the scattering of seeds, the blance, and the paradox.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Zesentwintig, Vijfendertig
I am twenty-six. I have been to thirty-five states.
The Grande Birthday Roadtrip, was indeed fabulous. The time spent in the car far outweighing the time outside the car in terms of fun. Des Moines is, in fact, the pit of hell. However, we did find a rockin planned parenthood used book sale.
Omaha was its only little town of fun. Not only did we see the Mormon "Winter Quarters," but also the empty, fenced off field of the birthsite of Malcolm X. We had to hop a fence and make our way through tall underbrush filled with crawly thing to find the one small historical marker. Priorities, priorities.
More soon, just wanted to let folks now that I have truly seen the rolling plains- and they are not nearly as boring as people say. They have their own particular beauty in their difference from anything else I have seen.
The Grande Birthday Roadtrip, was indeed fabulous. The time spent in the car far outweighing the time outside the car in terms of fun. Des Moines is, in fact, the pit of hell. However, we did find a rockin planned parenthood used book sale.
Omaha was its only little town of fun. Not only did we see the Mormon "Winter Quarters," but also the empty, fenced off field of the birthsite of Malcolm X. We had to hop a fence and make our way through tall underbrush filled with crawly thing to find the one small historical marker. Priorities, priorities.
More soon, just wanted to let folks now that I have truly seen the rolling plains- and they are not nearly as boring as people say. They have their own particular beauty in their difference from anything else I have seen.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Lang Zal Ik Leven!
Sarah Gee on the Occasion of Her 26th Birthday
Currently Reading: The Impossible Will Take A Little While: a citizen's guide to hope in a time of fear (Paul Rogat Loeb, editor)
Currently Drinking: "a fine Irish Creame Liquor" (aka knock off Bailey's)
Current Songs on iPod repeat: The One Who Knows (Dar Williams); Summer in the City (Regina Spektor); It Rains Everywhere I Go (Lynn Morris); Times are Not What They Used to Be (Ginny Hawker); Subconscious (Ani DiFranco)
Celebration Plans: Roommate and I will drive to Des Moines, IA at 6am to attend the Historic Farmer's Market in downtown Des Moines. Neither of us has ever been to Iowa. After lunch at the farmer's market, we will drive to Omaha, NE. Neither of us has ever been to Nebraska. We will check into our Econo Lodge and have dinner at the local/regional hot spot vegan/vegetarian cafe. We will later attend "Cowardly Old World: An Electronic Music Concert." Through Audio and Video visit various visions of the future- from Nostradamus to Al Gore to Jules Verne to the Italian Neo-Futurists. Visual projections on on all three screens of the UNO Planetarium will complete this program... After, we will visit three local homo hot spots. On Sunday we have brunch at the Omaha botanical gardens and head back to Kansas City.
Fashion Plan:
Saturday Morning - undergarments, jeans, tank top undershirt, long sleeve t-shirt, socks shoes, red flag.
Saturday Evening - undergarments, jeans, tank top undershirt, hot jacket, socks shoes, red flag.
Sunday - undergarments (set 2... maybe...), jeans, tank top, recovery hoodie, socks shoes
Saturday Morning - undergarments, jeans, tank top undershirt, long sleeve t-shirt, socks shoes, red flag.
Saturday Evening - undergarments, jeans, tank top undershirt, hot jacket, socks shoes, red flag.
Sunday - undergarments (set 2... maybe...), jeans, tank top, recovery hoodie, socks shoes
Packing List: scrap booking materials, 4 specially crafted road trip CDs, polaroid camera, plastic toy voice distortion microphones, moroccas, tape recorder, medicine, 2 house dresses (for Oske, of course, I swear), uncle eddie's famous vegan oatmeal cookies, dvd player from living room entertainment center, Season 1 Disc 3 Saved By The Bell
Lang zal ze leven!
zal ze leven!
Lang zal ze leven in de gloria
in de glo-ri-a
in de glo-ri-a!
Long shall she live
Long shall she live
Long shall she live in glory in glo-ry in-glory!
Long shall she live
Long shall she live in glory in glo-ry in-glory!
(The Dutch Birthday Song)
So, long shall I live in glory!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Enkle zal liefde binnengan
Well, it has been awhile. Over a month since a sincere blog, but since MK is perhaps the only one who reads, I think my blogging conscience can rest easy.
Enkle zal liefde binnengan. Only love shall enter. This is what my door says in red marker now. I went on a cross country trip, ocean to ocean, looking for love, sex, solace, family, home. I found a few of those things, and a lot of the unexpected. I'm slowly recovering from one of my most fierce episodes to date. Really, in the past month I have seen my doc 4 times. Most people go every 6 to 8 weeks. It has been a long haul.
Right now the new med doses and combinations are making me a confused, foggy brain most of the day and all of the night. But... the equinox is coming. My birthday is coming. Fall is arriving in its subtle ways. Keep on keepin on, as it has been said.
Enkle zal liefde binnengan. Only love shall enter. This is what my door says in red marker now. I went on a cross country trip, ocean to ocean, looking for love, sex, solace, family, home. I found a few of those things, and a lot of the unexpected. I'm slowly recovering from one of my most fierce episodes to date. Really, in the past month I have seen my doc 4 times. Most people go every 6 to 8 weeks. It has been a long haul.
Right now the new med doses and combinations are making me a confused, foggy brain most of the day and all of the night. But... the equinox is coming. My birthday is coming. Fall is arriving in its subtle ways. Keep on keepin on, as it has been said.
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