Fifty odd years ago I said to the mirror, "This is way too complicated." and I abandoned any attempt to establish a meaningful relationship with another woman. Translate "meaningful" to "any" relationship. For 30 years I lived with a succession of rescued Scottish Terriers. My friends were all uncomplicated straight. Social life was dog-walking in various local parks, dinner at the beach, discussions about books, movies, and family ups and downs. I was about as content as I had ever been.
Then one day, I said something kind online to someone who was having trouble. And all the relationship BS floated to the surface. Again. And guess what? It's still way too fucking complicated.
There is a familiarity to these posts of days long ago when I was too ignorant to realize just how complex queer life was out in the real world. Not all the bars I went to were in basements, but they all looked the same, smelled the same, and had pretty much the same patrons. It feels good to revisit that without all the internal sturm and drang of my baby butch days. Ask Elaine. She's younger than I am but probably went to the same types of places back then.
A few days ago you wrote a more upbeat piece. I really enjoyed that one. I know that we are in the toilet right now and upbeat is hard to come by. but it was a welcome change of pace.
You have assembled a captivating cast of characters, each with their own spin on things, and a unique setting that is still recognizable to many people. (Cheers comes to mind for all of those characteristics.) I've noticed, too, that there seems to be an uptick in comments which is always a good sign. So I guess my answer to your question is:
Hell, yes, Wendy, keep writing these. If they give you pleasure to write them, it certainly gives me, and hopefully others, pleasure to read them.
Your narrative embraces, engulfs, surrounds and is like a giant protective hug from the earth mother energy as are the physical walls of the basement pub which feel like more than just bricks forming a protective space.
This was beautiful. ❤️
Faith. Huh.
Fifty odd years ago I said to the mirror, "This is way too complicated." and I abandoned any attempt to establish a meaningful relationship with another woman. Translate "meaningful" to "any" relationship. For 30 years I lived with a succession of rescued Scottish Terriers. My friends were all uncomplicated straight. Social life was dog-walking in various local parks, dinner at the beach, discussions about books, movies, and family ups and downs. I was about as content as I had ever been.
Then one day, I said something kind online to someone who was having trouble. And all the relationship BS floated to the surface. Again. And guess what? It's still way too fucking complicated.
So you think I should keep writing these?
There is a familiarity to these posts of days long ago when I was too ignorant to realize just how complex queer life was out in the real world. Not all the bars I went to were in basements, but they all looked the same, smelled the same, and had pretty much the same patrons. It feels good to revisit that without all the internal sturm and drang of my baby butch days. Ask Elaine. She's younger than I am but probably went to the same types of places back then.
A few days ago you wrote a more upbeat piece. I really enjoyed that one. I know that we are in the toilet right now and upbeat is hard to come by. but it was a welcome change of pace.
You have assembled a captivating cast of characters, each with their own spin on things, and a unique setting that is still recognizable to many people. (Cheers comes to mind for all of those characteristics.) I've noticed, too, that there seems to be an uptick in comments which is always a good sign. So I guess my answer to your question is:
Hell, yes, Wendy, keep writing these. If they give you pleasure to write them, it certainly gives me, and hopefully others, pleasure to read them.
Your narrative embraces, engulfs, surrounds and is like a giant protective hug from the earth mother energy as are the physical walls of the basement pub which feel like more than just bricks forming a protective space.
So you like the stories?
Yes, it’s like falling into an overstuffed couch at the end of the day.🤗
I love it. Your style of crafting words is unique, raw, unfiltered, and flows like a river. This was amazing Wendy;)
Thank you Much.
Yw❤️
Damn. You use language like a goddamn switchblade.