And I will be hanging out with Jessica Mills, the author of "My Mother Wears Combat Boots".

I will have a short, acoustic set: "Butch Hooker", "I'm a Pimpin' Bitch (But I Ain't No Ho)" and "SuperGenderBender".
More info:

The Anarchist Cafe will happen this year on Friday March 12th from 7-10pm, the night before the Anarchist Bookfair.

We will have food, coffee, tea and performances indoors and a covered hang out space outdoors. We are serving dinner until 9pm or until the food runs out, whichever comes first, with music from 7:30-10. As in past years, the cafe will happen at 225 Potrero Avenue in San Francisco. We are asking for a donation of $5-20 at the door, but no one will be turned away. Door proceeds will go towards the book fair (which has to cover extremely increased rental fees this year) and the Davenport, IA grand jury resisters (see http://davenportgrandjury.wordpress.com for more info).

Please no drugs or alcohol. Note the earlier ending time, so don't show up late and get disappointed.

If you are interested in volunteering at the café contact Mike at mikee1051@yahoo.com and include what you would like to do (make food, do dishes, or work the door) and the approximate times you can be available for.

Performers can email marcus@midnightspecial.net. Please include in your email a brief description of what you would like to do, for how long, your experience and any amplification needs, etc.

See you there!

The @ Café Collective

Friday, 12 March 2010
19:00 - 22:00
225 Potrero Ave @16th Street
San Francisco, CA

Watch this and you will feel AMAZING!

A friend of mine became a grandma recently. She was pregnant at the same time I was pregnant with L-Dawg. In fact, her oldest is about two months younger than L-Dawg. And that little girl, who I used to babysit, and, in fact, used to strap into her cradle board (Navajo family), just had a baby this week. My friend, the mom/grandma told me yesterday. Trying to wrap my brain around this.

Like page 288.
http://books.google.com/books?id=r7f_WZOqVS0C&dq=my+mother+wears+combat+...

http://andiamnotlying.com/2010/types-of-bitches/

I played viola in an orchestra concert today. It's my first orchestral outing on the viola in almost 20 years. We played a Dvorak and a piece by Mary Watkins (http://www.oaklandopera.org/FANNIEMAY.html for more info on this amazing woman) and an Aaron Copland piece (haven't played Copland since I was in high school). Here's a video of Copland conducting the LAPO with Benny Goodman on the clarinet (Goodman commissioned the work back in the day). This is the first part, the slow part.

Here's the 2nd part, the fast part:

Then I took my kids out to dinner, then we came home and I got to help T-Dizzle do her Chemistry homework. They are doing Stoichiometry. I also have not done Stoichiometry since high school. It's math you use to figure out like if you combine 5L of hydrogen and 5L of oxygen, how much water are you gonna get? Yeh, so I was having a total nerd out today. According to my calculations, it was fun!

PS My conductor informed me that if I come and play violin or viola for an event with the Gay Men's Chorus (which she also conducts-- http://www.sfgmc.org/) that she may also call upon me to play the guitar part for "Horse with No Name". Oh, and L-Dawg's musical partner (our neighbor Den) is playing guitar and asking me to identify the chords he's playing from across the room. I am a nerd.

Firstly, thanks for the nice comments to the skool post. Today I called Mills and said, basically, that when I was in high school I was a super-good student, but I don't know how, as an adult, I demonstrate that quality to schools. The nice lady on the other end of the phone suggested that I come to a transfer student information meeting next Tuesday. It's free, and they serve lunch. I can get a tour of the campus and talk to counselors and start whatever process needs to be started. I happen to have a light load next Tuesday, so I signed up. They asked if I wanted to bring a guest, and, since I am a mom who gives a shit about my kid, I said I'd like to bring L-Dawg (if she can switch shifts at work).

I am thinking about returning to school. (FYI, I don't have a degree, not even an AA, not even an AAA--I get roadside rescue through State Farm, ha ha). It's not that I have some career in mind. I'm not trying to get into nursing school--that does not interest me; I'm not trying to get a business degree--I already run a business.
It's more that I miss being in an environment where being intelligent is a good thing. Where being smart is appreciated, even rewarded. I miss letting my nerd flag fly. I'm tired of being the struggling single mom.
Earlier this year, I purchased a candle from the local witchcraft supply store. A candle for change. I didn't have a particular change in mind, just wanted to open myself up to possibilities. I haven't lit the candle--that's how resistant I am to change! But it's right by my bedside, and the changes are happening anyway. The candle itself may not have any power--it's mostly symbolic. The act of buying it created the atmosphere. I've been buying and not lighting candles for a looooong time. They work anyway.
So, this is the first time I've put this thought out into the world. I think I want to go back to school. I'm opening myself up to the possibility. I want to flex my brain. I am tired of wasting brain power on worrying about survival. I want to go to school and stay in school and get some kind of degree out of it (unlike the 4 other attempts). I want to find a supportive atmosphere. I want to find a good school--enough of this community college bullshit (no offense community college, but I've been a member of Mensa--and at nearly 42 I think I can safely say that I am too smart to waste my time at community college.)
So there, world. I have invited learnin' upon myself, and an environment of support, and a school that will expand my brain rather than my stress level. [[[[[[activate]]]]]

http://www.oregonlive.com/clackamascounty/index.ssf/2010/02/bobs_red_mil...

http://selleckwaterfallsandwich.tumblr.com/

DISCUSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was in this band, and we had a teeny moment of almost fame. I wasn't just in the band, I was the founder, the singer, the main songwriter, the myspace maintainer, the tee-shirt printer, the person who talked to the press, the booking agent, etc. for the band. We were known for being a "mom band", I guess. There's this festival that we helped put on the map, and in turn, the founder treated us like crap. Probably because we were too "activist", and they just thought we ruined their wholesome "We're moms, and we can rock....too!" image. I thought it was best to walk away entirely and do what was right and true for our band, but my bass player at the time *said* she wanted to get all subversive and turn the west coast version of that festival into something that celebrated moms of color, queer moms and even teen moms. I still wasn't into it. But she went ahead and started down that path, or so it seemed.
I think she wanted to one-up the festival founder or something.
I was fine with having a different sort of thing, our own thing, or getting together with other activist people here and putting something together, but that bass player--she drove things till they were almost out of control.
She had done that with another project related to our band and other "mom bands". She wanted to make a compilation album to raise money for UNICEF, which was great in theory, but shitty in reality because none of the other "mom bands" tied to this festival were actually any good musically, and no-one had heard of any of these bands, and nobody had any ties to the industry, blah blah blah...but she went ahead with that and I think she lost about $500-$1000 doing so.
But, back to the festival. She wanted to have an inclusive show, and she wanted to hold it in E. Oakland. I thought she should contact this particular large church for outreach and maybe to use their space. But no, she decided to contact our local city council woman and talk it up, and that lady put the bass player in touch with the guy who runs a three-day, very large outdoor music festival in downtown Oakland, and the next thing I know, the bass player had me and this poor other mom from some other band and City dude and her in a meeting, like we're going to have some huge festival in the big plaza downtown. Huh? what about the teen moms? What about being subversive? And the dude put a not unreasonable, given the scope, pricetag of $10,000 on it. But bass player had written her own stupid contract with the festival, so that for every dollar we spent on the festival, we had to donate the same amount to a particular charity--which meant a $20,000 price tag, and she thought we could do this in....wait for it....2 months.
If I could raise $20,000 in two months, I sure as shit 1) wouldn't be raising it for a "mom band" festival and 2) wouldn't be working as a fucking housecleaner!
And it wasn't just the money, it was the contracts with the vendors, it was the sound system, it was booking the show, it was advertising, and even showing up and playing. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
So I blogged about it, here. And she read my blog, after one of her friends essentially tattled on me.
And this woman, who thought she was capable of creating a festival out of thin air, couldn't even talk to me about it. No, she waited until our next gig, which was advertised as a kid-friendly gig (and she showed up wearing, I shit you not, a see-through shirt. She had to put stickers over her nipples!) and, after our set, in the middle of this crowd of people, including her kids and other kids, she screamed at me about "publicly dissing" her. She went on and on, basically about how much I sucked, etc. etc. because of my blog.
And she quit the band.
And, because she had access to them (but not ownership, not by a long shot), she dismantled the band website, e-mail hosting site and cafepress site.
(As far as the band goes--I went back to playing bass. With my two remaining band members, we created a nine-song set in three weeks--and expanded to about 18 songs. We played 25 shows in 6 months, including the Dyke March to 50,000--mostly topless--lesbians, we even recorded a CD and got some of it played at Burning Man. There have been a couple other line-ups for that band, but it may be done now, I don't know.)
Really, I think that she was embarrassed and she blamed me for it. But, what if I had said nothing? What if I had let her go on? She really thought she could pull it off. Or she thought she could convince me to pull it off. What if we had signed contracts with the City of Oakland? With vendors or sound people or the charity or....? It would have been more than embarrassing. It would have been a big fucking lawsuit. I saved her ass. I saved my own ass, which is the one I really care about, of course.
I spent some time feeling bad, like maybe I should have talked to her rather than blogging first. Or maybe i should have toned it down a bit, my rant about the sitch. But no. The moment she took it public and local, we were more than even. And when she destroyed the multiple websites, she took it too far. Plus, she gets to enjoy not being sued amd not having to deal with those stupid mom music festival people (who we both just hated beyond words) anymore, so I really think she should thank me.
It's probably not going to happen. So I will have to write a song, maybe called "Ego Tit".

This is a new term I learned today.

The kid who's trying to sue me. The one with the tagging on the walls who thinks he should get his entire deposit back. Another suit.

Is being treated decently a luxury only enjoyed by the rich? Had another shit-tastic run-in with Kaiser, no, make that TWO. In the same week. One for me, and one for L-Dawg. And I got to thinking that the majority of my run-ins with them are shitty. And then I took L-Dawg to see my acupuncturist. I paid out of pocket, as Kaiser doesn't cover acupuncture, unless you exhaust all the Western meds AND can find a Kaiser doc who not only thinks that acupuncture is benign, not only thinks it's safe, not only thinks it's a good idea, not only is willing to refer you to an acupuncturist, but is also willing to go to bat for you against the corporate Kaiser to make sure that your acupuncture treatment is covered. Like that's going to happen.
My acupuncturist is in the Glen Park area of San Francisco. Very nice, very chi-chi. It's like spa day for me. I take the BART and walk a block to the office. Nicely decorated. All soothing. Nice background music. Dr. Heidi is a super nice lady, too. I get my treatment, then I walk to the Glen Park branch library, get a couple of books, go to the fancy little grocery store, maybe do a little window shopping, or if the weather is nice, I walk around the 'hood and look at the fabulous Victorians, then I take the BART home. Everyone at every shop I go to is super nice. Helpful. Kind. Not like shopping at the Grocery Outlet or even Safeway, not like going to Kaiser.
And so I wonder: is this a money thing? Do you have to have cash, or the appearance of cash, to be treated decently? I'm not talking about being fawned over, I'm not talking about people being obsequious, I'm just talking about receptionists who don't roll their eyes at you (yes, that really happened at Kaiser). I'm talking about NOT being herded around like cattle, not being talked to like you're an idiot, not being stared at like you're going to steal something.
When I was on Welfare, I understood that being treated like shit was part of the deal. I hated it, but I knew the score and I needed the cash, and I put up with it. But I am not on welfare anymore. Am I still too low on the totem pole? Is there a breaking point, a green ceiling? Do I have to flash cash to be treated decently? And if so, ICK.

http://trueslant.com/johnknefel/2010/02/24/utah-criminalizes-miscarriage...

1. We can see who else is online with us. That is fun.
2. Our signatures are part of our posts, not just our replies.
3. The graphic at the top appears to have a queen of hearts, and in the background, an ace of spades, where the spade is placed directly over what looks like a picture of the White House. Hardy har har. That is some funny shit.

http://quirkyalone.net/

Discuss.

this is totally like the old old old version where we could see who else was online with us! I missed this feature. Of course, now I miss my most recent posts, cuz I was going to grab that Crisis of Conformity video.

http://www.facebook.com/notes/aesop-dekker/tiger-woods-open-letter-to-am...

That Tiger Woods had an affair? Amazing. A grown man with wealth and power actually had sex with someone who is not his wife. That never happens, right?

If there's a way for my teens to opt out of receiving military recruitment mail?
1. There's no FUCKING way they are ever joining the military.
2. It's a waste of paper.

Ugh. I will bounce a check today. I'm pretty sure of that. If not today, then tomorrow. And I don't have any way to make it any different. I don't know, maybe not. Skin of my teeth-- I might be able to pull something out of my ass. I'm tired of this--squeezing in-between the lines bullshit. I deserve better than this.
I was at a viola sectional last night at the home of one of the other viola players. She also tunes pianos. She has a fabulous house in the Oakland Hills. She is married--I guess her hubby rakes it in or something. I'm jealous. I really am. She is the person who has the cool diagonal viola. But, and this is what chaps my hide, she SUCKS at the viola. I play in an all-volunteer, no audition orchestra, so there are players of all abilities in it. I'm cool with that. I'm cool with her not being very good, yet totally dedicated to the orchestra. I'm cool with her having money and time to be the new member intake person and all that. BUT I am, as always, frustrated by my life situation. I am a damned good musician. Damned good on the viola, the violin, the guitar, the bass and singing. I am talented and I love to make music. But I am a solo single mom. I am poor (sometimes I try to kid myself about this). Really, though, it just isn't fair. I should have a nice viola. I should have time to practice. I should be in the SF Symphony, or doing other great music instead of practicing in a cold garage, or cleaning houses to make just enough money not to bounce a check today, when I'd rather be making music. Call it hubris if you will, but I also think the musical world loses out by not having me fully in it.

Yesterday and today, T-Dizzle's girlfriend and I spent a good deal of time pulling weeds in the backyard. Common mallow, to be specific:

So, these are pernicious weeds. I know that some people grow them on purpose, just like some people grow dandelions or bamboo on purpose. I do not. They share a characteristic with dandelions: you can't just cut 'em down. You gotta dig 'em out. I did not know this, so when I spent hella time last fall cutting them back, all I was doing was creating more work for myself this weekend. Also, like dandelions, they can have very long (2' or more) roots. Unlike dandelions, they are very woody, so you can't just chop 'em down with a lawnmower (if you are feeling lazy and you want to make more work for yourself in a few months). You HAVE to use trimmers--or like we did today, a pick-axe and brute strength. The good news is that if you catch 'em early, they come pretty easily right out of the ground. And we had the advantage of very wet soil.
So, yay to the GF and me. T-Dizzle said, "You need a lesbian around for these kinds of chores." And you know, she's right. I've tried to get men and teen boys to help with the yardwork in the past, and it's been like herding cats. They do all the shit I DON'T need done, and I end up doing stuff like this by myself. They can't focus, or they can't plan ahead; or they can't accept that I can focus and I do plan ahead, I suppose.
Gosh, maybe I should find a lesbian regular gardener type, too....

A form letter. Generated by a computer. I know, because I got one almost exactly like it a few months ago. Remember how I didn't want to get a LEEP done, because, well, it just seems so barbaric? Electrified wire loop scraping off cervical cells. And the "info" pamphlet didn't really have much info, more like pastel drawings of virginal-looking Stepford-wife-esque ladies cavorting, presumable post-procedure, but maybe more like deer in the sights of the OB-GYN hunter. I don't know. I've had so much "work' done on my girlie parts (tee hee hee. sounds like plastic surgery. had an ovary lift) that I DON'T WANT ANYMORE. The colposcopy was awful. The doctor seemed SURPRISED that it was emotionally brutal for me. I guess she didn't read my chart where it said I'm a sex abuse survivor. I guess she didn't listen when I said I'm a sex abuse survivor. I guess she didn't take me seriously when I said I had grave concerns about the procedure.
Anyway...
A few years ago, I wrote a paper for a cultural anthropology class about the cultural reasons for the high c-section rate in this country. The culture of Western Medicine, and obstetrics--the way that med students are taught to look for pathology, how they don't really know what "normal" looks like, how they are sold a bunch of machines that may or may not do what they are supposed to, how they are trapped in a quagmire of protocols, etc., etc. And the God Complex that so many doctors have. Ugh. Which is more of why I don't want a LEEP. So, I've been doing my acupuncture, and changing my lifestyle, and as of the past couple of weeks, I'm beginning to feel like the "last" phase of my own, personal treatment is beginning. The harder work of positive affirmations, particularly in regards to my girlie parts--more on that later.
Back to the letter.
So, the letter is sort of like "oh, we noticed you missed your appointment" (didn't miss--canceled the first one. They made a second one FOR ME, which I did NOT agree to). You really should take care of your body. Being a good girl and cooperating with our protocol will make you healthy. We care. Signed, your doctor who can't remember who you are, and the general message line for Kaiser.
I've gotten this letter, like three times or something. This time there was an added, personal message. Saying that I should at least come in and get another colposcopy to make sure I don't have cancer. WTF? The nurse who wrote that part told me, when I was freaked out about the colposcopy, that cervical cancer is slow-growing. Like, 5-10 years. These people don't know what the fuck they are talking about. It's all threats and fear-mongering, and shoving women around like cattle, and making money off our fear. You might have cancer, but this procedure will make you okay and bathed in soft, pink light. Not, of course, you might NOT have cancer. You might never get cancer. And this procedure might fuck you up, physically and emotionally, not to mention financially.
Argh!!!!

raw sauerkraut. good for the tummy.