We’ve changed the name of the column to “Ask Helen,” but my 2nd column is up at ourchart.com, and it’s all about how couples meet each other and end up in relationships.
Sunday Night Shimmy
An old friend of mine is in town, and she was asked to guest drum at a bellydance performance tonight. As I’ve rarely gotten to see her drum, I went, & dragged my sister with me. (Betty, sadly, is not very mobile). I’ve seen bellydance performed before, but tonight, on top of my usual introverted discomfort, I kept thinking about how I was supposed to be in that room.
The dancers were all lovely. The first act, Sri Devi, was (I’m guessing) still pretty young to dancing, but she was fabulously talented and funny and fun in her performance. She seems like the type of performer who has a real star in her.
The final performance, by Hannah Nour, was really a hit out of the park. She had what I call “sea legs” for a performer – the way sailors are more comfortable on a boat than on land, some people are more comfortable performing than not. (Betty was that kind of actor.) She showed no self-concsiousness, seemed like she was really engaged and enjoying herself, and was technically stellar. And her clothes! Like a Hindu Love Goddess, all light blues and greens and whites and pinks – like a female version of the traditional representation of Rama.
Because on one level bellydance is a seductive art, sexual, exhibitionist, and yet it’s also social. It’s not burlesque. And I couldn’t figure out how to watch, at all. Most of the guys sit there just kind of ga-ga (in a more or less sexualized gaze) and a lot of the women were other dancers who were there to cheer on their friends or learn or just to appreciate the art.
But I was just there, looking like a dyke in the corner, and now that I’m aware people see me as a lesbian, it’s all I think about. I suppose if I actually desired women, I’d sit there like most of the guys, enjoying the sensuality & beauty of the ladies dancing without feeling weird about it. But because my desire, per se, is not engaged, I just sit there wondering how to watch, because it’s still titillating – dance is innately seductive, no?. I find myself tied up in knots, and kind of uncomfortable despite the performers being very comfortable with themselves and the dance form.
(I know, I know; I’m self-conscious & I think too much. Tell me something I don’t know.)
But despite my own silliness, DO GO see bellydance if you can! It’s a cool art form. The night I saw tonight happens every Sunday (thought with different performers, I think).
Bloodied
This image is, I think, the reason Barack Obama raised $150 million for the month of September. We’ve already voted, with our wallets; we’re tired of being embarrassed to be American, when we really are a great nation that has acted shamefully these past few years.
Broken Betty
Just because this year hasn’t sucked for Betty enough medically, she broke her foot yesterday while helping create the media installation at JFK’s new (not yet opened) JetBlue terminal.
We spent 8 hours in the emergency room today waiting to find out if it was broken, getting x-rays, and then having it splinted. She’ll get the cast proper later this week.
*sigh*
Mountain Mama
I’m back from West Virginia and exhausted, but the event went really well & I really enjoyed meeting the students and other panelists (hi, if any of you are reading!).
If anyone sent me an email that you’re awaiting a reply to, just know that my email access was spotty while I was traveling, & I’m currently a little swamped, but I’ll get in touch with you as soon as I can.
Not a Goomba*
I was just bitching on the MHB boards that nearly all the only portrayals of Italian-Americans is mafia related, and people pointed out a few others – like did you know Elaine on Seinfeld was supposed to be Catholic? Nice try, but she wasn’t. Other than Ray Romano, Fonzi and Al from Happy Days, there seems to be a real dearth of the rest of us that isn’t Sopranos-esque.
* Goomba, or goombah, is a term used to describe a stereotypical Italian-American, & in a few dictionaries, implies a connection to the mob. & Yes, it’s also the name of one of the bad guys in Super Mario.
I didn’t have any goodfellas in my own Italian family, and we’re even Sicilian / Calabrian. I tend to describe my dad as “the other kind of Italian” because he is – more Joe DiMaggio than Godfather. Mostly if it’s not mafia it’s about food, or more likely, it’s about both. But honestly, is there a culture where the food isn’t important? My Big Fat Greek Wedding got closer to my experience of being Italian-American than any of those goomba movies.
& These days, in New York, there’s about three blocks left of Little Italy; Chinatown has been encroaching for years, and Italians left the city – for everywhere. (Though the midwest could use a few more, because finding inexpensive, good Italian food in Wisconsin leaves you at Pizza Hut. ugh.) But at least now there’ll be a museum of the whole Italian-American experience, located where Little Italy used to be.
(Thanks to Nettie, Caprice, VM, & Donna, all of whom put in their two cents.)
Growing Up Stupid
This study, about how Americans discourage the highest level of math genius, is far more interesting than all the ink we waste on the differences between boys’ and girls’ math skills. To me, this is the great American tradition of anti-intellectualism at its worst. My guess, of course, is that the lower you go on the socio-economic scale, the more pervasive these ideas are.
I had friends stomp on my report cards. Me and other smart working class kids weren’t exactly encouraged. I feel very lucky that my emotional needs to be smart outweighed all the discouraging influences; as with other kids from big families, being smart got me attention from my teachers, attention that was a little lacking at home. Because otherwise, being good at math came with major social stigma, and most of the young women I’ve met at colleges seem to have developed a reflexive “fuck you, I can do math” kind of attitude that keeps them safe.
That they should need it is the sore point. We celebrate athletic prowess, the people who make the top 1%, but not in intellectual arenas. Oh, this country. Maybe having an actual smart guy for president will change that & start to filter down, & kids might want to grow up to be something other than an NBA star.
De-gendering this stuff really points up actual real problems that need to be dealt with.
(h/t to Lena for sending me the article)
Tonight at WVU
I’ll be speaking at West Virginia University’s Morgantown campus tonight at 8:30 PM, so if you’re anywhere nearby, please do come, as the event is open to the public (& only an hour from Pittsburgh, if you’re wondering).
- Place: Greenbrier Room in the Mountainlair at West Virginia University
- When: 8:30 pm 16 Oct
- Open to everyone – the more the merrier!
- Sponsor: Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Mountaineers (BiGLTM)
Trans for Obama: More Entries
We’ve added a blog entry by a currently-transitioning trans woman, and a Transmissions column in the Bay Area Reporter by the incomparable Gwen Smith of rememberingourdead.org.
Both go a little more into the whys of Obama (for those of you who haven’t made up your minds).
& We’ve now raised nearly $15k for Obama’s campaign to be president. It makes me positively tingle.
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