Halloween Highlights

* Coming home from work to see Astrid dressed in tight black tights, a Batman (or Girl) t-shirt, tiny yellow shorts, and thigh-high black boots.

* Buying treats at the local health food store and offering one to a kid dressed as Spiderman as we were walking home. (He recoiled - don't you know you're not supposed to take candy from strangers?)

* Making out with Astrid in her tiny yellow shorts and tight black tights on the couch, waiting for guests to arrive.

* Eating chocolate and drinking whiskey at the same time.

* Seeing Dave dressed as his own Facebook page.

* Talking to Calisto about the racist, classist, and basically totally fucked up doctrine of a certain Russian-turned-Texan physics professor...

* ...And then getting a text message from Spider in Seattle who was, at that moment, witnessing what she described as a "straight man dressed as a leather daddy," performing the song All my Exes Live in Texas at a karaoke bar.

Happy Halloween, y'all!

Good Eats

Been eating pretty healthy the last couple weeks. Lots of veggies, no fried food ('cept tortilla chips, which are mandatory when eating at a taqueria!) and the most important thing: I've been stopping when satisfied instead of busting my gut. If I can just get this one thing down and stick to it: I never have to overeat. Just because food is there doesn't mean I've gotta eat it. It's like listening to really bad lesbian folk music: just because they're dykes doesn't mean I need to support 'em. It's a nasty habit, indeed. So, I dunno how I got up to 224 - maybe it was water weight - but I'm back at 220. Already my pants feel less constricting.

Shameless Self-Promotion

I really had some momentum for a while with updating, but it's been several days since my last post, and I've lacked inspiration. I've been working on the blog in the background, though, doing some promo and working on entries to be posted at key times in the near-future.

Has anyone seen my Toothpick Labels around San Francisco yet? I've been sheepishly sticking these 1x4" promos all over sign posts, bike racks, and Muni stops in the Mission, TriBeSa, and the Lower Haight.

I imagine it's a hilarious sight to see me engaged in the petty defacement of public property: I pull a label from the backing, looking around to case the situation, and stick it on as quickly as I can, walking away as nonchalantly as possible. A tiny little adrenaline rush occurs which I attribute to paranoia and the thrill of doing something naughty. I don't know whether this will improve my readership, but it's fun! Definitely let me know if you spot one! I'll be expanding into the upper Haight, Castro, and various other neighborhoods as my schedule allows.

A totally legit way to help me promote my blog, if you're also on Blogger, is to become a public Follower of Toothpick Labeling. Quick and painless, and that way you get updates on my posts directly in your Blogger dashboard, and I get to know who the hell's reading this thing.

And lastly, I'll take this opportunity to remind my loyal readers that, oh yes, the 2008 Wrap is in heavy production mode, and will be posted as soon as possible after the turn of the year. That's a scant couple months away, so do be titillated, by all means! If you're new to Tlab and don't know what this "Wrap" is of which I speak, click onto the 2007 Wrap in the Faves section on the right and get yourself acquainted!

Thanks for being out there, youz.

xo
Bree

Vintage Bree: Where were you during the Loma Prieta earthquake?

October 17, 1989, San Jose, California, early evening. I am sitting at the desk in my bedroom, my senior year of high school, and my mom is in the room next to mine, playing Boggle on our now ancient Mac. I am working on a homework assignment (I don't quite recall which) when the house begins to shake, and shake. My mom and I both yell, "Oh Shit!" in unison, and then I scream, "Get into the doorway!" and we stand there, in the doorways of the rooms side by side, waiting for it to be over. The quake kills 63 people, injures more than 3,000 and leaves even more homeless. The Bay Bridge and the Cypress structure collapse.

Ten years later. I work at a natural foods deli in Santa Cruz, and I'm fetching some items from the case for a customer who looks familiar to me, a friendly middle aged woman, all smiles and silky grey hair. I figure she's a regular. My co-worker and I are having a conversation on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the Loma Prieta temblor. "Where were you during the quake?" I ask from behind the counter, including the shopper in on our chat. The customer thinks on it, and then offers in good cheer, "I was giving a pelvic exam at the Women's Health Center!" We all laugh, and then she and I beam at each other in embarrassed recognition.

Tuesday Evenin' at Home

Astrid and I had tender conversation over fresh rice paper rolls tonight. Now we're buying tickets to travel to the Mojave to visit her family for xmas, my second year with Astrid's folks on the holiday, and my third celebrating it with her. Even though I'm a secular atheist-leaning Jew, I've really come to love celebrating xmas in the desert with Astrid's once-fundamentalist and still conservative parents: not the exorbitant gift-buying, or the huge heaps of sugar, really, but just the being with them, the warm exchanges, the awkward exchanges, all the relating through chit chat, and playing dominoes, and long silences, and the buzz of Astrid's rowdy toddler nephews, and the love.

Progress Report # 3ish

So, not surprisingly, with outbursts like last weekend's fried food extravaganza, and owing to my slacking off from gym and bike alike (my brand new bike is broken at the moment), I've gained more weight in the last couple months. I'm now 224, four pounds more of me since I started this here blog. All in all, up 9 pounds from where I was about a year ago, which is roughly about 20 to 30 pounds more than I'd ultimately like to weigh. I'm telling you, the goal here is not to be thin, the goal is to feel physically and emotionally better about my relationship with food and excercize, take some weight off my bad knee, and eat more healthfully (and ecologically-friendly).

So how have I not been accomplishing these goals? I'm overeating, per yooszh, dining out too frequently, and not exercizing nearly enough. I was getting really consistent with the gym for about three months there, but as school wound down and my brief summer break and subsequent two-month job search began, I lost focus. Then, sometime in August, I got a new bike and I think getting back on it distracted me further from the additional exercize regimen of gymming. So I'm looking forward to building in a routine where I'm both biking and gymming, as well as getting more of a handle on the food situation. It's a lifelong process. I'm hoping at the very least to get back down to 215 and then see what happens from there.

Sigh.

Preach Beyond the Choir: NO on Prop 8

The following is an email I sent to a conservative person in my life who is very dear to me. Please consider writing your own message, or cutting and pasting this message into an email and sharing it with your conservative or religious friends, family, and colleagues--especially those you think might vote in favor of Prop 8. We need the message to reach beyond the converted.

Hi ____________,

The reason I'm emailing you is because I want us to have a conversation about marriage rights for same-gender couples. As you probably know, the California Supreme Court recently made same-gender marriage legal. But now, there is a State Constitutional amendment on the ballot called Proposition 8, which will write into the California Constitution that marriage can only be for a man and a woman. If it passes, it will permanently ban marriage rights for same-gender couples. Most people I know are already committed to voting NO on Prop 8 to protect marriage equality. But I suspect that many people you know will be voting for the proposition.

I'm asking you a favor: will you watch the video below and consider voting NO on Prop 8? And will you pass this message along to your friends and family so that they can hear a humane message from the "other side" as well? The video is a message on same-gender marriage from clergy and faith leaders. I just watched it this evening, and it was so powerful, it made me cry!



A link to the video is here:
http://noonprop8.com/multimedia/video?id=0001

You don't have to tell me how you're voting - I respect your privacy. But I can't in good conscience not make an effort to reach people beyond the little bubble of San Francisco I live in.

Okay, that's enough for now. I really appreciate you taking the time to read this message and watch the video. Please let me know what you think and if you have any questions. I like talking with you! And above all, please know that I love you and respect your decision to vote however you like.

Wishing you the best,

--Bree

Opening Up*

L's visit from Germany is now a few weeks passed, and both Astrid and I are in a good place about all, but it was somewhat of an emotional blender while she was here. The blender contained the following: major portions of sexiness, excitement, love, and wonderful communication, one part confusion, a generous dose of longing and disappointment, dash(ed) expectations, and a pinch of loneliness. And I'm not just describing my feelings being in the spectator role of Astrid's renewed connection with L., but the collective feelings of Astrid and I as they mingled together in the rich concoction we created together with her.

It had been a long time since Astrid or I had had other lovers. My last significant involvement was with Dax, which ended about 2½ years ago when she entered into a more or less polyfidelitous relationship with a couple, and then wound up in a monogamous relationship later on with her current sweetie. I had had a make-out and one awkward date sometime after that, but nothing noteworthy. I think it had been about three years since Astrid was with another lover. And since then, we have developed and deepened our relationship, and we have been discussing our feelings and dreams about polyamory and nonmonogamy quite consistently, the identity and style of loving being at the core for both of us. "Opening up" as a theme is very apt: the opening up of possibilities between Astrid and I; the opening of our hearts to new loves; the opening of our bodies to a new vibrancy and new experiences of pleasure; the opening of our spirits to loving each other in an even more intimate and honest way.

The week didn't progress in the way either Astrid or I had hoped it would, based on the excitement of Astrid's interaction with L. the first couple days. When L. arrived in town, she and Astrid got to reestablishing their rapport and becoming lovers again very quickly. The energy between them was high on the night of Astrid's poetry reading, and after we all got home, they stayed together on the couch while I went to sleep in my bed. When I woke up at about five a.m. to pee, I heard wonderful moans coming from the living room and felt this amazing mixture of vicarious arousal and joy for Astrid, as well as a subtle anxiety that I knew I wouldn't be able to process in such a sleepy and excitable state. When Astrid joined me back in bed not long after that, it felt warm and sexy and connected between us as we snuggled and talked a little about everything that was happening. I was thrilled for her, and so turned on, and felt very grounded about giving them space to be together. And then the next day, L. and I had dinner and talked for a long time about the situation, and I made it very clear to her that everything was cool with me, and that she should feel free to be affectionate with Astrid around me and essentially entitled to take up more space (in fact, in the interest of full disclosure, I told L. it'd be my pleasure if she were affectionate with Astrid in my presence. I got a chuckle out of her on that one--I'm an unrepentant voyeur, it's true.) She said the situation was very unusual for her, and she felt a lot of discomfort with it, having no exposure to open relationships, but said she was really impressed with how Astrid and I were handling it, and that she was learning from it. I assured her we were learning too.

But then, sadly, for the rest of the week, L. was distant from Astrid, and I found myself there in Astrid's disappointment, feeling it with her, and feeling the years of my own start-and-stop polyamorous leanings being dashed. It is not wise to put all eggs in a basket, as the cliché goes, and so wisdom knows that L. was no wicker for our whims. When Astrid came to bed the next night, curling into herself and feeling rejected by L., I felt disconnected from her and alone, knowing it wasn't me she wanted that night. We slept lightly and proceeded awkwardly through the next day, and then Astrid and I took a walk together up to Dolores Park late in the evening, and had a radically honest talk about everything we were both feeling. How glorious it was to share my intimate joy and pleasure and sadness and fear with her, and to be fully open to hearing Astrid's specific pleasures and pangs, even as they were about another woman.

But radical honesty is more multifaceted than glorious: it's tiring. It's exposing. It's relentless, and once you start, you can never stop, because anything less feels inauthentic and flat. This is the precious and frightening underside of opening up.

________________________________
*This entry is named after the new book of the same title on nonmonogamous relationships by Tristan Taormino, out now on Cleis Press.

Biting the Hand, Part One

Friday was my first day at CompuTrap*, the new company of my employ (yes, I got a job, after two months of looking.) It is helmed by Doug Muñoz*, a Type-A overworked middle-aged golf enthusiast who seems very chill as a boss excepting his ease in letting me know his business philosophy up front: I am to be his right-hand man, as it were, reporting everything I hear from the rank-and-file and encouraging a workplace culture of secrecy around issues such as compensation and employment status. He says our salaries are no one's business, and as the bookkeeper-slash-office wonk (he is generously calling me the Office Manager) I will be privy to all that top-secret information, so I need to keep a lid on it (which I will), and let him know of any rumblings (which, if I can help it, I won't.) It sets the teeth of my inner union agitator on edge. I don't think this is a big feature of the job; mainly, Doug hired me to do the accounts payable, stay on top of billing and collecting payments from clients, and to take all the busy work off his desk so he can focus on finding new clients and growing the business. I'm perfectly willing to do this, especially since it's in a casual environment, a fifteen minute bike ride from my apartment, and he's giving me the hours and pay I need to eek out a living in the next year while I continue working at the clinic.

As Morrissey once said, "I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now." I get no end of pleasure in this quote. I'm so grateful to be learning to do the therapy work that allows me to find so much personal growth and meaning, and gives me a future to look forward to beyond the crunching of numbers. But, goddamnit, I was really ready to kiss bookkeeping good bye. If nothing else, I feel this year is the home-stretch.

________________________
*Name of company changed so's I don't get fired.
*Name of boss changed so's I don't get sued.

Fried Food Frenzy

Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. Except that I'm not Catholic, and my father is dead, so I don't think he would mind that I've had chicken strips, french fries, and breaded, fried cauliflower today (eating this last delicacy as I type before you now.) Yes, all in one day. Maybe this has to do with my vegetarian girlfriend being out of town, thus I'm eating to alleviate my missing her, and eating decadent meaty things 'cause, really, I just can. It feels wonderful momentarily and then feels awful, physically, not long after such binges. I should really be asleep now, but this cauliflower is fucking tasty.

Does it exonerate me when you know that I breaded the cauliflower in matzo meal?

Back in the Swing?

For those of you who missed the 13-episode run of Swingtown, a racy and stylish homage to partner swapping and finding yourself in suburban Chicago in the '70s, now's the chance for you and everyone you know to throw your keys in the bowl and join the action. The CBS summer replacement series that couldn't pull enough viewers to stay on the air passed its first season arc is going to be rebroacast on Bravo this month. Please watch it and if you dig it, tell CBS and Bravo that you want the series to continue. Though I think the CBS run suffered from uneven writing, the premise--a conventionally stifled couple moves on up to a nicer suburb and across the street from a pair of swingers who school them not only in free love but also in how to honor their deeper desires for authenticity--is a winning one. Likewise, the characters, the excellent acting, and the amazing sets and costumes are exactly what this series needs to see new life on a cable network that can take the provocative material and make it juicier. Check out the Save Swingtown site to get involved in the fan-driven effort to keep the show in production and keep positive portrayals of open relationships and unconventional lifestyle politics on the air!

Peace & Love,
Bree