I had the extreme pleasure of taking our little fireball Aurora to the vet a couple of days ago, and honestly, if she had been a human child and I her mother I would have been terrifically embarrassed by her bad behavior.
She was okay going there – seems to like the car ride, actually – and even in the waiting room and waiting in the exam room. After sniffing out the whole place she actually laid down on the exam room floor, not a care in the world. Of course the vet did show up eventually, and then… the fun began. For everyone. Aurora is apparently of the mindset that if she’s going to have a bad time then everyone else is, too.
She hisses and spits and lunges to take bites. She kicks with her clawed back feet and smacks with her front declawed paws. She growls and grumbles and howls and twists and spins and will not stay put. The vet had to listen to her heart rate between low growls (ie, when Aurora had to stop growling a moment to breathe). She hissed when she checked her ears, and then – oddly enough – was quite still when they put the thermometer in her butt. (Betty thinks she’s just smart, and knew she’d hurt herself if she moved too much while it was in her!)
Now this is a 10 lb. cat. Two adults had her triply wrapped in a towel, with one adult, experienced tech holding down her front half (the poor woman) and the vet herself holding down Aurora’s hind quarters with one hand & trying to alternately draw blood/give her shots with the other. What should have taken all of five minutes took about 20, and other techs and vets kept coming to the windowed door of the exam room to find out who was torturing that poor cat.
Ah, she is a redhead.
The good news is that she’s now fully vaccinated and all her bloods are good, which means: she is a healthy 2 or 3 year old (we’ll never know for sure). And I’m pleased. She is not one bit grateful, but she is letting me touch her and pet her today, so apparently she forgave me my part in it.
But wow. For cat lovers out there: she really was something to behold. I couldn’t help but feel a kind of perverse pride in her for taking no prisoners. But we’re also quite proud of having nursed her back to health, and having her become a healthy, cantankerous, fireball of a kitty.
Now I will make sure to make an appointment with the same vet for the boys, as a kind of consolation prize, since they are the most calm, mellow kitties a vet ever examined.
Go Oprah
She’s doing a show about class tomorrow, Friday 4/21. I never thought I’d see a show about class on American television.
Wolfpit Shows Left
Since it’s already a couple of weeks into Wolfpit‘s short run, I thought I’d post a reminder that you should get tickets now!
The remaining shows are:
April 20, 21, 22, 27, 28, 29 at 8pm
April 16, 23, 30 @ 3pm (Sunday shows are the only matinees)
May 4, 5, 6 at 8pm
So do buy your tickets now.
If you need more convincing, there’s the NY Sun’s good review, Gothamist’s expectations of a good play, and another good review from www.nytheatre.com.
Pretty Boy Voice
So Betty & I both agree that Steve Miller Band is really fun music to listen to, and maybe the kind of music that people wouldn’t expect us to like. But we do, pretty regularly, & everytime we listen to him I’m struck by how damn sexy his voice is.
But today I also noticed – while once again noticing how sexy his voice is – that it’s damn high-pitched for a guy. You might even say it’s a pretty voice. That’s his singing voice I’m talking about; I have no idea what his speaking voice is like.
Put that next to Kathleen Turner’s voice, though, and you’ve got a deep woman’s voice that’s also considered very sexy. My point? None in particular, but if I can encourage more transwomen to drop the high pitched voices I’d be pleased indeed (& in good company, finally).
Turn of the Century Tranny
The photo is of three Yale students, c. 1883, which I found courtesy of Staci’s blog, Passing Interest, where she notes that:
A Yale dean ruled that no member of the Yale Dramatic Association could impersonate a female on stage for more than two consecutive years ‘because continued impersonation tended to make men effeminate.'”
Slippery slope, indeed.
You can find more history of crossdressing at Yale at the Larry Kramer Initiative site. I recommend reading the whole of these archives of LGBT history at Yale, but if you don’t have time to read the whole thing, do at least check out the entry about two trans Yale alums.
4/17/06 = #16
NCTE’s 52 Things You Can Do for Transgender Equality:
#16 Adopt a Highway.
Trans-Trans Relationships
At the IFGE was the second time recently that I was reminded that when talking about trans relationships, I had failed to mention trans-trans ones. (The first time was at my TransNYC presentation.)
My apologies – I’ll try to get my act together on that one. I’d love to hear from any of you who are trans and who are in or who have been in a relationship with another trans person, no matter if it was a sexual relationship along the lines of a one-night stand or a LT platonic relationship/living situation, or anything inbetween.
Men in Skirts
As usual, Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments is on just in time for Easter. I love it for all its corniness, and I’ve seen it more times than I can count, but if it’s on – I still get sucked in. My favorite exchange is when Nefertiri (Anne Baxter) tells Ramses to bring back a sword with Moses’ blood on it, and Ramses (Yul Brynner) replies, “to mingle with your own.”
But for anyone who thinks men look effeminate in skirts, I might recommend you check out some of it – at least the beginning, where you get to see Yul Brynner in a skirt.
That’s about as far from effeminate as I can imagine.
And if you really want to get to know Yul, you can see him in all his glory. Yep, I’m a fan, and have been since the first time I saw The King & I.
Molly the Cat
A cat got herself stuck in the walls of a building in the West Village. She’d been missing two weeks – and presumed stolen because she’s a pretty cat – but then the walls started meowing.
With the help of remote video cameras, a whole fish donated by a nearby restaurant owner, and a guy named Kevin Clifford, Molly was rescued.
What caught my attention was that Kevin Clifford was described as a miner who extended his workday to help get Molly out, and I couldn’t imagine what a miner who lived in NYC could possibly be doing. But it turns out, Kevin Clifford isnt’ a miner per se, or rather, he’s a very special kind of miner called a sandhog. (I confess, I’m really antsy to get back to working on my novel that concerns – you guessed it – both miners and sandhogs.)
But either way, he loves animals, and Molly is now hiding/resting under furniture in her owner’s apartment after time in spent of flashbulbs, chaos, and crowds. Hopefully everyone’ll go away shortly so that she won’t want to find a new wall to crawl into.
Please Donate
If you can, please donate to help us keep doing what we do. Thanks to all of you who have contributed in the past.
Last month I was asked how much money I needed, and what it was for, so I thought, for the sake of my newer blog readers, I should explain a little. I’ve put a longer explanation of why we ask for donations on the “please donate” page, but mostly I’d love to encourage people to do a monthly subscription fee – especially if you’re a regular board user (lurker or active poster). Some of you are doing so already, and I really appreciate it.