THROWBACK THURSDAY: TODDLERHOOD IN KOLKATA, 1957-58

This is me playing domestic in our big living room in Kolkata, India. It's so early I haven't gotten dressed yet. 

I don't remember the broom or matching mop. The toys I really longed for were the boy's things given to my older brother: a Carroms game, erector set, cap guns. Even more, I longed for thick black socks instead of the wispy white ones I had to wear, and sturdy shorts and T-shirts instead of petticoats and sunsuits. I want to move without limitation and no worries about staining or tearing my attire.

 I wanted boys' freedom, not the sex itself -- which even then I was smart enough to know had NOTHING to do with the rules being handed out.

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LOLCATS WEEKLY ROUND-UP 28 MAY 2014

Here's the weekly best of what I've gleaned from I Can Has Cheezburger efforts. There are some really creative folks out there.

 

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THROW-BACK THURSDAY: ADOLESCENCE OF A SEXUAL ABUSE SURVIVOR

Throw-Back Thursday: Six photos from age 12 to age 18.

In the first of these, at age 12 [1967, 7th grade, Dilley], my molestation had stopped but could recur at any point. I took steps that autumn to remove myself from his reach by siding with my father against my mother and demanding we take a job offer in Brazil. I was still wondering if I could have gotten pregnant. The dress I am wearing here represents a class shame I simply cannot write about.

The next one [9th grade, 1969], after our return from Brasil, was in Stoneburg where I experienced my first real freedom.

The third, at age 15 [10th grade, 1970, Stoneburg -- I made the dress I'm wearing], was when I was falling in love for the first time with a girl.

The fourth [age 16, junior year, 1971, Stoneburg] was after I'd started being mistreated by that first love (of course whom I chose turned out to be a sexual predator of children -- not long after this, she later raped my little brother).

In the fifth one [age 17, senior year, 1972, Stoneburg], I had just become lovers with someone new, five years my elder and very controlling.

In the sixth, my second year of college [1974, age 19, Denton], I was still emerging from a nervous breakdown brought on by poverty, shame, and being cheated on by my second lover with my first. Feminism was just arriving in my personal world to help me make sense of it all.

 These are hard memories and tough years. Recovery was a long way off and 2000 miles away.

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LOLCATS WEEKLY ROUND-UP FOR 20 MAY 2014

Here's the weekly best of what I've gleaned from I Can Has Cheezburger efforts. There are some really creative folks out there. {NOTE: Final image is arachno-blatant.}

 

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THROWBACK THURSDAY: DYKES WITH KIDS

This is me in the summer of 1977 with the child I helped raise, as so many of us did in those years, sans any parental rights or safety net. Taken in a photo booth in Denton, Texas. The red-and-white striped cap she's wearing was mine, bought on a trip to Durango, Colorado where I was checking out the wimmin's land collective I joined at the end of the summer.

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LOLCATS WEEKLY ROUND-UP 13 MAY 2014

Here's the weekly best of what I've gleaned from I Can Has Cheezburger efforts. Extra LolHistory takes this week, and one LOLCat I captioned myself. (The obscure one.)

 

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OSENTO WOMEN'S BATHHOUSE, SAN FRANCISCO, 1980's

Osento was at the heart of the wimmin's community that stretched along Valencia during the heydey of actual lesbian ascendency in SF -- our neighborhood rather than the boys' Castro. In the bottom floor of a beautiful old Victorian, owned by Summer (who lived on the top floor), was an entry room where you paid the two bucks fee, a general disrobing room with lockers, a toilet room which also had the shower you were asked to take first, a large tiled room with a very hot pool lined with wide rims on which you could sit or lie to cool off/chat, a small back room with pads to lie on, and a small outdoor patio with a cold plunge.

 It was most definitely not a sexual environment. It was dimly lighted, we were encouraged to keep our voices soft, no making out or fondling (it was very public), and I often fell asleep there after soaking my bones and spirit. I always went weekly, sometimes several times a week.

One of my favourite memories was when two friends from out of town came to visit from Dallas and Los Angeles respectively. We had all lived in Denton during the 1970s and this was a reunion weekend.

The Dallas friend, Mary, had been out to SF many times and was well-acquainted with Osento. She was also a talented prankster. The other friend, Jean, was shy, had never been to any sort of bathhouse, and was, to put it kindly, very gullible.

 As we walked up the steps to the front door, Jean stopped nervously and asked me to swear this was not going to be a den of hot throbbing lesbian sex. We both reassured her, and I said it was a perfectly discreet place, no one was going to ogle her. But Mary, seizing the opportunity to tease Jean, added with a straight face "We do have to give a password at the front door, to make sure it's just dykes coming in."

Jean looked startled, and after a couple of beats, Mary turned to me and said "Did you call to get this week's password?" I grokked what she was doing and said the first thing that came into my head: "Yep, it's 'beans and franks'". Mary nodded and repeated in a whisper "Beans and franks."

We contrived to position ourselves so that Jean reached the door first. Mary and I stood back a pace, watching the sidewalk behind us, as Jean knocked on the door, her face pale. When Summer answered, Jean leaned toward her and whispered "Beans and franks."

Summer said blankly "What?" Jean cleared her throat and repeated the nonexistent password. Summer gaped at her for several seconds, then looked beyond her, saw me, and said "Oh hey, it's you, come on in."

But Mary and I only barely made it in the door before we were convulsed with laughter. Jean realized she'd been had and went beet red with embarassment. We explained our joke to Summer, who also found it hilarious, and within a few minutes, the whole place was giggling and murmuring "beans and franks" to each other. It became a beloved joke between the three of us; sometimes we'd begin phone calls with "beans and franks" before sliding into giggles.

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