This is hypnotic: [link]

THE CALL GIRL WHO CLAIMS SHE’S A VIRGIN (Nov, 1959)

She was a lesbian teacher. They could not prove she was a call-girl.

The article is, of course, homophobic and the writer is annoying, but it's still an interesting depiction of lesbianism in 1959.

We’re referring to Ginny’s favorite type of hangout — those little side-street cafes in Greenwich Village that would strike the normal person as being a trifle weird, to say the least.

The kind of place where men are strictly off-limits, where girl-meets-girl, to dance together, cheek-to-cheek, snuggled tightly to each other’s bosom, hardly moving their feet to the sensuous music, completely oblivious to anything or anyone around them, on dance floors so small a fair-sized automobile would hardly find room, and so dark it would barely be seen if it did.

These are the hush-hush lesbian dives, where waiters are deep-voiced girls, with short-cropped hair, dressed in natty tuxedos. Where girls from the local bohemian set and from uptown cafe society mingle together to enjoy the intimacy of their own set.

(Ginny has often been quoted as saying she prefers “offbeat” people to “normal” ones.) Girls from the Social Register are found here, too, their foreign runabouts parked in gleaming splendor under the street lamps. Young daughters of doting dowagers whose blue blood would turn sickly green if they knew where their little Brendas and Leonoras were spending their evenings — and the gender of the creeps with whom they were passing their nights.

Many of the girls who make these bizarre bistros their home-sweet-homos actually hate men, or simply dislike them to the point of loathing. Others are afraid of anything in pants that isn’t a girl.

All the true habitues have one thing in common: Where sex is concerned, they prefer their own.

My car doesn't know words.

But it now has a new window.

And my brastrap just broke.

I give up.

Jason Alexander apologizes in epic fashion:

[link]

Seriously. The first half had me all "so we were interrogating your text from the wrong perspective, hmmm?" and then it took a whiplash inducing left turn. Good on 'im.

I give up.

Well, at least you're not having radium-enhanced giant frog legs for dinner.

Did your insurance cover the car window?

It makes me nervous to even ask about the method of administration, though. Some doctors and nurses feel that drawing out the process is their responsibility, so I try and refer them back to the time I got admitted so they could administer push while I was hooked up to All The Monitors, and that doctor gave me the thumbs up, as well as my migraine guy requesting it. Fingers crossed. This past visit they came up to me with the bag, and I dared ask that they give me the drugs push, and *then* hook up the fluids. And it worked...

Yeah. Since you are dealing with pain meds, it must be weird to seem to knowledgable about pain meds. With Grace, at least, we are dealing with nutrition, though I may single handedly rip out the next person's esophagus who suggests that we use formula and allow a straight bolus gravity feed. I hate being questioned, as if they know more about this as it pertains to her. I'm sure that's the same for you.

Jason Alexander apologizes in epic fashion

That's a really good apology. Although I find it astonishing that he actually had to talk to his gay friends to understand why what he said was offensive. How is this new to him?

Is he extra insensitive?

Oh, here's some good news (I guess?): the 9th Circuit decided not to rehear en banc the Prop 8 decision. [link]

That means the only way the lower court ruling can be challenged is by taking it to the Supreme Court. Of course, with this slate of Justices, I don't have a good feeling about this.

Maybe we'll get lucky and they won't grant certiorari?

Fingers crossed.

Facebook's "People You May Know" is currently suggesting Toto George Meek and Seabiscuit Sprinkle.