It’s November and Thanksgiving again, Poppets. The article in my head was about all the things for which to be thankful and then segue into the pain the families of the teens who have recently committed suicide and how they must be struggling to find a reason to be thankful this season. That would then lead into telling you about the suicide prevention sites that have either sprung up or gained more exposure as a result and urge you to support them, as a way of supporting our teens, so that no family ever has to struggle to find reasons to be thankful at Thanksgiving.
It was great in my head.
It sucked as I tried to write it.
Seriously. What sounded eloquent in my head is coming off as trite, patronizing, and condescending as I tried to get it on paper. You deserve better than that. These families deserve better than that. Those kids sure as hell deserve better than that. Because one more empty article written for the sake of pulling on heartstrings is the last thing that needs to be written right now. But these programs, these are real, these are anything but empty. So check these out; find the one you can support; and find a way to support it.
The newest and, honestly my favorite, is called the We Got Your Back Project. Love this project. Their mission spells out a commitment to inclusivity that many other projects may claim to have, but miss in subtle – or often glaring – ways. They acknowledge that the LGBT community actually, you know, includes Bs and Ts and not everyone is white and middle class. Daring, I know. They are new, so still just getting started. Still, the potential here is endless.
Possibly the best known program is The Matthew Shepard Foundation, created by the parents of Matthew Shepard following his murder in a hate crime driven by his orientation. Their online community and resource center is Matthew’s Place. It gives teens a place to gather, talk, meet…from wherever they are.
The Trevor Project offers videos, articles and information for teens struggling with coming out or being out. They also offer a 24-hour/7-day a week telephone hotline (866-488-7386) for suicidal teens. They have trevorspace.org, as well, which is a social networking site for young people ages 13-24.
All three of these sites offer suggestions for straight allies, as well. They also give suggestions on what to do if a suicidal teen comes to you for help. Vital reading for all of us.
Finally, there is the It Gets Better Project. A You Tube page devoted to videos from older members of the LGBT community. The ones who remember what it was like to be a Queer child and teen. Videos that speak directly to today’s teens, assuring them that It Gets Better.
If you know of another resource for LGBT or questioning teens, please drop me a line at lifeandtimesofbridget@gmail.com. I’ll do my best to get the word out. If you know of a teenager who is hurting, reach out to them. We never know where the nugget of hope that keeps a kid alive is going to come from. If you are a teen who is hurting, check these out. Talk to an adult you trust. Call on your local resource center. Or write me. Seriously. That’s my address, up there.
It’s Thanksgiving time. I promise you, there’s reason to be thankful.
Until next month, Poppets, give thanks for what makes you happy, and take care of you.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Friday, October 1, 2010
October 2010
It’s October, Poppets, my favorite month of the year. Autumn arrives in earnest; leaves crisp up; the snap in the air is perfect for sweaters and snuggling. All this and so much more – including and especially, Halloween. And here’s a secret, just between us, when it comes to Halloween, I really miss living in Northern Washington. There are just so many great events that night. Hell, when Halloween falls on a weekend, as it does this year, there are three nights of amazing events. Who wouldn’t want to be there? Since I can’t be, though, here’s where you can find some of the best parties in my stead. Just remember to lift a glass to me. (Note: these are alphabetized by venue; their placement on the list means nothing.)
* Club Vogue at 1509 Broadway, Seattle. Saturday, October 30th, from 9:00 p.m. until 3:00 a.m. Check out the All Hallow’s Eve party. There’s no official theme, so come dressed as you will. At midnight is a fashion show, so fabulousness encouraged. Of course, fabulousness is always encouraged because, well, it’s us. Use the front entrance of the club.
* Purr Lounge at 1518 11th Avenue, Seattle. Sunday, October 31st, from 7:00 p.m. until 2:00 a.m. The Sisters of the Mother House of Washington are hosting Nuns Go Bump in the Night II. Aside from being great fun, it’s also a breast cancer fundraiser, with a suggested $5.00 donation at the door. Halloween, nuns, and helping a good cause. If it gets better, I don’t know how.
* Rendezvous Jewelbox Theatre at 2322 2nd Avenue, Seattle. Saturday, October 30th at 7:00 p.m. and 8:30 p.m. The Urban Bombshell Burlesque Show brings a Halloween cabaret. May I repeat that? A Halloween cabaret. See why I miss the area? Tickets are $10.00.
* Showbox at the Market at 1426 1st Avenue, Seattle. Friday, October 29th, at 9:00 p.m. until 2:00 a.m. Bump Fire + Ice equals a light show, DJs, and a costume contest with a $1000.00 prize. Plus, it, too, is a fundraiser, supporting Gay City, the Seattle Women’s Chorus, and the Seattle Men’s Chorus. Ticket packages are available, starting at $35.00 for a single in advance/$45.00 at the door. But see www.gaycity.org for all the group and VIP options. And remember, there’s the official after-party, Grind, too!
* Triple Door (mainstage) at 216 Union Street, Seattle, brings back the Can Can Halloween Spectacular for the fifth year. Oooo, Poppets. Six shows over three nights. I would be at least one of these. Maybe two. Each night, the 29th, 30th, and 31st, has an all-ages show at 7:00 p.m. and a 21+ show at 10:00 p.m. Tickets are $20.00 in advance/$25.00 at the door.
Five choices for one particularly eerie and wonderful evening. Splurge and overlap some. Or make it a whole weekend. You know you’re worth it, your friends are worth it, and dressing up to match our wildest imaginations is certainly worth it.
Finally, before we go, Poppets, it is October and I am me, which means I need to remind you that it’s Domestic Violence Awareness month. If you or someone you love needs support or help, there are people who will listen, who can help, who understand that domestic violence isn’t just a heterosexual, straight problem. The Northwest Network in Seattle can be reached Monday through Friday at 206/568-7777. Skagit Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault Services can be reached 24-hours a day, 7 days a week, at 888/336-9591.
Have fun, be safe, and until next month, Poppets, take care of you.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
September 2010
Can you handle one more month of political stuff, Poppets? I knew you could. Recently, a friend of mine had to call out a woman who claimed to be an ally of the LGBT community. It didn’t go well. The ally got defensive, started deflecting, and ended up losing all credibility as supporter of the community.
It got me thinking, though – what is the difference between an actual ally and someone who has taken a diversity training or has a lesbian co-worker? Is it that they never screw up? God help us if that’s the case. No, I think it’s more about how a person responds when they do screw up. So, without further ado, I present you Bridget’s Guide to Screwing Up With Style:
* There is no such thing as a perfect ally. This is a tough one for those of us who really do care to learn. It is, however, true. You will screw up. Accept it. Learn it. Live it.
* People in the LGBT community will be understanding of the (very) occasional screw up. Where the trouble will come is if you try to justify the screw up. When you try to make the screw up about them. When you get defensive over being called out for the screw up. Odds are good that you didn’t set out to be offensive, duh. Explaining that fact doesn’t win you too many points, because, well, duh. Getting defensive when your intention doesn’t give you a pass on your impact loses you points. Fast.
* If someone calls you out on being offensive, it means you were offensive. This isn’t rocket science. You have screwed up. Apologize. Shut up. Listen. Learn. And remember, listening isn’t the same as staying quiet, waiting until the other person stops talking.
* Your one gay friend or your lesbian college roommate doesn’t speak for everyone. Just because he doesn’t mind if you use that phrase or she found it funny when you did that impersonation, doesn’t mean you aren’t currently being offensive. Don’t use them to defend your current situation.
* Online icons, club memberships, Pride attendance, etc. only go so far. These don’t make you bullet-proof. Hell, even reading (or writing for) The Betty Pages doesn’t make you immune to screwing up. Don’t hold any of these up as ways to deflect from the fact that you have just made a mistake.
And there you go. Mostly, it boils down to own your shit, rather than trying to pass it off. Remember, if someone is calling you out, you have hurt their feelings or made them angry. If you meant to do so or not, this should matter to you. Other people’s feelings should matter to you – especially if you are holding yourself up as someone who cares about their feelings.
There’s more than just these five, of course, but start here. Keep listening. Keep learning. And until next month, Poppets, take care of you.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
August 1, 2010
Three years, Poppets. As of last month, I have written for The Betty Pages for three years. It can’t possibly have been three years. And yet, it has been. In light of this, I decided I would re-introduce myself. After all, we have new readers who weren’t around three years ago when I first did so, and it would be easy to ask why this straight, cis-gendered woman writes this column every month. Why this straight, cis-gendered woman refers to “us” and “we” and “our” when talking about the LGBT community. Sure, if you’ve read me frequently or met me around town or asked Betty or Brian, you could get an answer. But what if you haven’t? Who the hell am I to be writing here, using the words I use? You deserve an answer.
What is/was interesting is that once I decided to write this article this month, once I started thinking about explaining myself to you, I started to get scared. This is a scary issue to address. People are wary. Legitimately concerned of being led into a trap. People are suspicious. With straight, cis-gendered privilege comes the ability to walk away if it gets too hard. Comes the straightsplaining. Comes the straight guilt. Because, let's be honest, the Special White Woman is just as insulting and degrading as the raging bigot, and worse because she tries to lull you into a false sense of security. You know it. I know it. And here I am, trying to find the words to explain why a straight, cis-gendered woman writes about “our community.”
And there’s the rub. The rub is, for me anyway, the words. Yes, words have specific definitions and that’s all fine and good. But words also have emotional meanings for us. I know people who cringe at the word “activist.” Yet, I also know people who relax once they hear it. Some people don’t want to hear an explanation at all. You either live it or you don’t and your words don’t matter. Other people need the words before they can trust the actions. As a writer, I am well aware of the importance of a properly turned phrase, and the dangers of a poorly turned one. So how do I find the way to explain to you who I am? To re-introduce myself to you? Say too much, and I sound like the Special White Woman. Say too little, and we go back to the who the hell am I, anyway, question. It’s a dilemma. It’s scary. It’s worth a shot.
The fast answer to why I consider myself a part of this community is that my husband, David, is gay. No, he’s not bi; he’s gay. He lived closeted for years, before finally coming out to himself and a handful of close, trusted friends. Neither one of us expected to fall in love. He was terrified of making another mistake that would send him back into the closet, and probably divorce court. I wasn’t the least bit interested in being a beard or a cover of some sort. We fell in love anyway. He’s not back in the closet and I’m not a beard. We are lucky enough to have been able to fall in love with people instead of just genders. As his spouse, his issues are mine. From the ones any couple faces like finances and employment and an aging father and a rebellious teenage son to ones that are more unique to our community like decisions about coming out and a legal system that doesn’t recognize him as truly equal to straight, cis-gendered men. These are my issues, every single day. Anyone who would try to tell you otherwise has never been in love.
Another fast answer is that human sexuality, orientation and identity is so vast a spectrum, it’s difficult for me to place myself on one fixed spot on it. Am I straight? In that I am not sexually attracted to other women, yes. Am I cis-gendered? In that I do not need to give up my female-ness to be in a male body, yes. But I do not believe, since we are being honest among ourselves, that our answers - our sexuality, orientation and identity - are that cut and dried. Western society in general, and American society specifically, is distressingly closed-minded about these issues. Americans like to pretend that because we acknowledge LGBT options, we’re being inclusive. But the spectrum is greater than the five points that make up Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered, and Straight. And it’s certainly about more than who we want to fuck or who we want to be when we fuck them. Straight and cis-gendered define me because I have no other options, because once again, I am trapped by my words.
Since there are fast answers, it follows logically that there is a not-so fast answer. That there is, perhaps, a downright convoluted one. Never let it be said I am not logical. I consider the LGBT community “my” community because it is the only community I have ever known. Bear with me if you will…I walked into my first drag club when I was twelve. It was New York City and my friend knew the stage manager of the show. I’ve often wondered how they got away with having me there, in what was in essence, a bar. But it was the early-80s and it was NYC and maybe all that played into my favor. The point is I was there. And for the first time in my young life, who I was was…fine. From the bar backs to the stage crew to the performers, I was accepted. Looking back on it now, I have no doubt they were highly amused by the short, round little girl from the small Southern town trying so hard to be city cool – but they didn’t show it. They didn’t treat me like a problem to be solved or an outcast to be pitied the way most other adults in my world did.
From there on out, straight, mainstream culture never resonated with me. Whenever I would move, which was often, it was within the local LGBT community that I found friends, love, acceptance, and family. It was here, in these clubs, community centers, theatres, bookshops, reading groups, and cafes, where I was welcomed as exactly who I was, instead of being expected to change if I wanted to be allowed in. I was never treated as an outsider. Hell, I was never even treated as just an ally. I have been wrapped up, given cookies, and brought into the fold. This is my community, our community, because I have been assured it can be.
This community is my home, my family. Like all families, we can laugh and joke – and make each other crazy. But we do so with the knowledge of shared experiences and respect, love and yes, constancy. And that’s why I write for The Betty Pages.
Until next month, Poppets, take care of you.
What is/was interesting is that once I decided to write this article this month, once I started thinking about explaining myself to you, I started to get scared. This is a scary issue to address. People are wary. Legitimately concerned of being led into a trap. People are suspicious. With straight, cis-gendered privilege comes the ability to walk away if it gets too hard. Comes the straightsplaining. Comes the straight guilt. Because, let's be honest, the Special White Woman is just as insulting and degrading as the raging bigot, and worse because she tries to lull you into a false sense of security. You know it. I know it. And here I am, trying to find the words to explain why a straight, cis-gendered woman writes about “our community.”
And there’s the rub. The rub is, for me anyway, the words. Yes, words have specific definitions and that’s all fine and good. But words also have emotional meanings for us. I know people who cringe at the word “activist.” Yet, I also know people who relax once they hear it. Some people don’t want to hear an explanation at all. You either live it or you don’t and your words don’t matter. Other people need the words before they can trust the actions. As a writer, I am well aware of the importance of a properly turned phrase, and the dangers of a poorly turned one. So how do I find the way to explain to you who I am? To re-introduce myself to you? Say too much, and I sound like the Special White Woman. Say too little, and we go back to the who the hell am I, anyway, question. It’s a dilemma. It’s scary. It’s worth a shot.
The fast answer to why I consider myself a part of this community is that my husband, David, is gay. No, he’s not bi; he’s gay. He lived closeted for years, before finally coming out to himself and a handful of close, trusted friends. Neither one of us expected to fall in love. He was terrified of making another mistake that would send him back into the closet, and probably divorce court. I wasn’t the least bit interested in being a beard or a cover of some sort. We fell in love anyway. He’s not back in the closet and I’m not a beard. We are lucky enough to have been able to fall in love with people instead of just genders. As his spouse, his issues are mine. From the ones any couple faces like finances and employment and an aging father and a rebellious teenage son to ones that are more unique to our community like decisions about coming out and a legal system that doesn’t recognize him as truly equal to straight, cis-gendered men. These are my issues, every single day. Anyone who would try to tell you otherwise has never been in love.
Another fast answer is that human sexuality, orientation and identity is so vast a spectrum, it’s difficult for me to place myself on one fixed spot on it. Am I straight? In that I am not sexually attracted to other women, yes. Am I cis-gendered? In that I do not need to give up my female-ness to be in a male body, yes. But I do not believe, since we are being honest among ourselves, that our answers - our sexuality, orientation and identity - are that cut and dried. Western society in general, and American society specifically, is distressingly closed-minded about these issues. Americans like to pretend that because we acknowledge LGBT options, we’re being inclusive. But the spectrum is greater than the five points that make up Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered, and Straight. And it’s certainly about more than who we want to fuck or who we want to be when we fuck them. Straight and cis-gendered define me because I have no other options, because once again, I am trapped by my words.
Since there are fast answers, it follows logically that there is a not-so fast answer. That there is, perhaps, a downright convoluted one. Never let it be said I am not logical. I consider the LGBT community “my” community because it is the only community I have ever known. Bear with me if you will…I walked into my first drag club when I was twelve. It was New York City and my friend knew the stage manager of the show. I’ve often wondered how they got away with having me there, in what was in essence, a bar. But it was the early-80s and it was NYC and maybe all that played into my favor. The point is I was there. And for the first time in my young life, who I was was…fine. From the bar backs to the stage crew to the performers, I was accepted. Looking back on it now, I have no doubt they were highly amused by the short, round little girl from the small Southern town trying so hard to be city cool – but they didn’t show it. They didn’t treat me like a problem to be solved or an outcast to be pitied the way most other adults in my world did.
From there on out, straight, mainstream culture never resonated with me. Whenever I would move, which was often, it was within the local LGBT community that I found friends, love, acceptance, and family. It was here, in these clubs, community centers, theatres, bookshops, reading groups, and cafes, where I was welcomed as exactly who I was, instead of being expected to change if I wanted to be allowed in. I was never treated as an outsider. Hell, I was never even treated as just an ally. I have been wrapped up, given cookies, and brought into the fold. This is my community, our community, because I have been assured it can be.
This community is my home, my family. Like all families, we can laugh and joke – and make each other crazy. But we do so with the knowledge of shared experiences and respect, love and yes, constancy. And that’s why I write for The Betty Pages.
Until next month, Poppets, take care of you.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
July 1, 2010
Recently, Poppets, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about privilege. See, in many ways, I carry a lot of it. I am white; I’m straight; I’m cis-gendered. All of these give me privilege here in the US. Now, because I am aware of my privilege, I try very hard to check it at the door, so to speak, and not abuse it, consciously or unconsciously. This is not to say I’m perfect, but I do try.
So what has me thinking about privilege recently? Because I have also, recently, been living without it, in many ways. For several months, I lived with someone who could’ve asked me to leave at anytime – and I would’ve had to leave. Currently, I get to be where I am “as long as no one complains.” So while the living arrangements are indescribably better, they are still dependant upon others’ approval and acceptance. Let me tell you – the threat of homelessness will change what you do and say mighty quick.
I’ve also been, in case you haven’t put this one together, broke, broke, broke for a few months. Did I mention broke? All my morals and values around shopping locally, not giving my money to certain conglomerates, voting with my wallet as well as my ballot – Gone. Apparently, the ability to do that comes with economic privilege. Who knew? On the one side of the line, even if money is a little tight, it’s important enough that one can easily say well, the prices aren’t that much more here than there and I support the politics here so…and pay the extra dollar or two. But there’s a difference between having enough money or even money being a little tight and being broke, broke, broke. When you are broke, you are on the other side of that line. Having now spent some time there, I have come to realize how lucky, how privileged, I have always been to be able to take that stance, to have economic values.
We as a community are facing a shift in privilege, as well. Quite frankly, if we’re not careful, I believe it could be as divisive as anything else we’ve faced. On one line is the privilege of being safely out. On the other is the knowledge that “safe” and “out” are mutually exclusive.
For members of the community who are safely out, or who are straight allies like me, it’s easy to judge people who remain closeted. I know I have, in the past, been too blasé about encouraging people to come out, without taking their situations into account. After all, it’s a different time now, and it was easy to assume my experience with and knowledge of acceptance would be universal. We have leaders, bloggers, journalists, and activists who feel it is not only acceptable but it is a responsibility to out the closeted. Now, I’m not talking about hypocrites who work to legislate and continue to oppress LGBT people while living secret lives. Suddenly, everyone should be outted, regardless. And this, Poppets, is about privilege. The privilege of the safely out.
Should we live in a world where everyone can come out and be out safely? Absolutely! Must we keep working toward that end? Umm…duh. But we’re not there yet and outing people, regardless of their situation, doesn’t get us there. As much as we’d like it to be otherwise, there are people who are not and can not be out safely. They know their situations better than we do. The safely outted and the straight allies have privilege not everyone has yet. We need to remember that, over here on our side of the line, and yes, check it at the door.
Until next month, Poppets, remember I can be reached at lifeandtimesofbridget@gmail.com … and take care of you.
So what has me thinking about privilege recently? Because I have also, recently, been living without it, in many ways. For several months, I lived with someone who could’ve asked me to leave at anytime – and I would’ve had to leave. Currently, I get to be where I am “as long as no one complains.” So while the living arrangements are indescribably better, they are still dependant upon others’ approval and acceptance. Let me tell you – the threat of homelessness will change what you do and say mighty quick.
I’ve also been, in case you haven’t put this one together, broke, broke, broke for a few months. Did I mention broke? All my morals and values around shopping locally, not giving my money to certain conglomerates, voting with my wallet as well as my ballot – Gone. Apparently, the ability to do that comes with economic privilege. Who knew? On the one side of the line, even if money is a little tight, it’s important enough that one can easily say well, the prices aren’t that much more here than there and I support the politics here so…and pay the extra dollar or two. But there’s a difference between having enough money or even money being a little tight and being broke, broke, broke. When you are broke, you are on the other side of that line. Having now spent some time there, I have come to realize how lucky, how privileged, I have always been to be able to take that stance, to have economic values.
We as a community are facing a shift in privilege, as well. Quite frankly, if we’re not careful, I believe it could be as divisive as anything else we’ve faced. On one line is the privilege of being safely out. On the other is the knowledge that “safe” and “out” are mutually exclusive.
For members of the community who are safely out, or who are straight allies like me, it’s easy to judge people who remain closeted. I know I have, in the past, been too blasé about encouraging people to come out, without taking their situations into account. After all, it’s a different time now, and it was easy to assume my experience with and knowledge of acceptance would be universal. We have leaders, bloggers, journalists, and activists who feel it is not only acceptable but it is a responsibility to out the closeted. Now, I’m not talking about hypocrites who work to legislate and continue to oppress LGBT people while living secret lives. Suddenly, everyone should be outted, regardless. And this, Poppets, is about privilege. The privilege of the safely out.
Should we live in a world where everyone can come out and be out safely? Absolutely! Must we keep working toward that end? Umm…duh. But we’re not there yet and outing people, regardless of their situation, doesn’t get us there. As much as we’d like it to be otherwise, there are people who are not and can not be out safely. They know their situations better than we do. The safely outted and the straight allies have privilege not everyone has yet. We need to remember that, over here on our side of the line, and yes, check it at the door.
Until next month, Poppets, remember I can be reached at lifeandtimesofbridget@gmail.com … and take care of you.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
June 1. 2010
It’s June, Poppets, and June means Pride. And what a Pride it could be. We have an openly transgendered woman on the presidential cabinet; the military is taking steps to end DADT; and the president has changed the laws regarding hospital visits and medical decisions. We have so many reasons to celebrate this year!
In the past, I have been supportive of Pride in all its forms. Noisy political rally? Go for it. Dancing in the streets? Sign me up. Sexy, colorful costumes with more feathers than material? Oh yeah baby. Even an exchange of shouted insults swapped with teabaggers has been cool with me.
This year, though, I have a different idea. This year, let’s put away our signs and our feathers. Let’s save our sexy costumes and snarky comments about the extreme right for our private after parties. In other words, let’s show the world who we are, not just who they think we are. Who they are afraid we are. Because you and I both know what they are afraid of.
They are afraid of what they think they know. That we are overly sexual, flamboyant people. That we are angry, belligerent people. And those might indeed be part of who we are. They are hardly everything we are, despite what our opponents “know.”
During the one month the world is really watching us, let’s show them the part of us they don’t know. The part no one can possibly be afraid of. Let’s turn out dressed well, not just street legal. Let’s be well-spoken and articulate, not just loud. Let’s hold hands with and kiss the people we love, not just grope the people we lust.
This is our time. We are closer than we have ever been. But the sad truth is we are not there yet. People still hate what they think they know about us. This year, let’s give them a chance to know us. Let’s show them not only that we are Proud, but why we are Proud.
Until next month, Poppets, enjoy Pride and take care of you.
In the past, I have been supportive of Pride in all its forms. Noisy political rally? Go for it. Dancing in the streets? Sign me up. Sexy, colorful costumes with more feathers than material? Oh yeah baby. Even an exchange of shouted insults swapped with teabaggers has been cool with me.
This year, though, I have a different idea. This year, let’s put away our signs and our feathers. Let’s save our sexy costumes and snarky comments about the extreme right for our private after parties. In other words, let’s show the world who we are, not just who they think we are. Who they are afraid we are. Because you and I both know what they are afraid of.
They are afraid of what they think they know. That we are overly sexual, flamboyant people. That we are angry, belligerent people. And those might indeed be part of who we are. They are hardly everything we are, despite what our opponents “know.”
During the one month the world is really watching us, let’s show them the part of us they don’t know. The part no one can possibly be afraid of. Let’s turn out dressed well, not just street legal. Let’s be well-spoken and articulate, not just loud. Let’s hold hands with and kiss the people we love, not just grope the people we lust.
This is our time. We are closer than we have ever been. But the sad truth is we are not there yet. People still hate what they think they know about us. This year, let’s give them a chance to know us. Let’s show them not only that we are Proud, but why we are Proud.
Until next month, Poppets, enjoy Pride and take care of you.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
May 1, 2010
Greetings, Poppets, from Alaska – where it's wild...where it's peaceful...where it's snowing. Yep. Snowing. At least it makes for good, albeit wistful, dreaming weather. And what am I dreaming about? Spring. Sunny days, warm breezes, green grass...The good news is that you get the benefit of my dreaming about what's happening in warmer climes.
Let's be honest, May is a gorgeous time to be in Washington. Plus, the festivals and fairs begin to help show off the state. Seattle offers something for everyone, all month long.
Feel a strong connection to the sea (or the men who sail it)? Be sure to head to the Seattle Maritime Festival May 6-8. It's at Pier 66/Bell Harbor Marina. Admission is free – and you know how much I like free.
Mother's Day is in May, but if your mom is anything like the moms I know, another brunch and heart-shaped necklace will only go over so well. Consider taking her – or your dad, or your best friend – down to Pike Place Market for the Flower Festival instead. May 8 and 9 the streets are brimming with flowers and bouquets. Enjoy just looking at the riot of color or splurge and buy. It's too beautiful to miss, either way.
If you have kids in your life, or still consider yourself a kid, then the Seattle International Children's Festival is for you. It comes to town May 11-15. And don't deny yourself this one; it really is a treat for all of us. Borrow a kid and go.
Don't forget the perennial favorite, the University District street fair. Yes, it's been around forever, but there's a reason for that: it's wonderful. Wander through on the 15th and 16th of the month.
Also on the 15th and 16th, since you're going to be in town anyway, don't forget my favorite of all – the Seattle Cheese Festival. An entire festival devoted to cheese. At Pike Place Market. In May. Does it get better than that? Nope, I don't think so, either. Everything you ever wanted to know about cheese and more. While you're there, have a nibble for me, please.
If movies are more your style, you're in luck. The Seattle International Film Festival (SIFF) is in town. The launch party is May 20th and films continue through June 13th. Featuring over 400 films from 60 countries, it claims to be the largest film festival in the country. And it's right in your backyard.
Speaking of movies and film festivals, head to Three Dollar Bill's Cinema (1122 E. Pike Street, #1313, Seattle, 206-323-4274) for the Seattle Transgender Film Festival, May 13-16. It may not be as big or as well-known as the SIFF. As one of the only transgender film festivals in the world, it's just as important.
Are you ready to move out of the audience and onto the stage? That's an option, too! RPlace (619 E. Pine Street, Seattle, 206-322-8828) is holding Pride Idol 2010. The competitions are held several nights during the month of May. Winners get cash, prizes, and a chance to ride in the Pride Parade. More information and full details can be found at www.idol.seattlepride.org.
It's May, Poppets. The weather's drying out, the sun is shining and the flowers are in bloom – at least in my imagination. Shake off the rain and snow of winter, get out, and enjoy a little Spring for me. And until next month, Poppets, take care of you.
Let's be honest, May is a gorgeous time to be in Washington. Plus, the festivals and fairs begin to help show off the state. Seattle offers something for everyone, all month long.
Feel a strong connection to the sea (or the men who sail it)? Be sure to head to the Seattle Maritime Festival May 6-8. It's at Pier 66/Bell Harbor Marina. Admission is free – and you know how much I like free.
Mother's Day is in May, but if your mom is anything like the moms I know, another brunch and heart-shaped necklace will only go over so well. Consider taking her – or your dad, or your best friend – down to Pike Place Market for the Flower Festival instead. May 8 and 9 the streets are brimming with flowers and bouquets. Enjoy just looking at the riot of color or splurge and buy. It's too beautiful to miss, either way.
If you have kids in your life, or still consider yourself a kid, then the Seattle International Children's Festival is for you. It comes to town May 11-15. And don't deny yourself this one; it really is a treat for all of us. Borrow a kid and go.
Don't forget the perennial favorite, the University District street fair. Yes, it's been around forever, but there's a reason for that: it's wonderful. Wander through on the 15th and 16th of the month.
Also on the 15th and 16th, since you're going to be in town anyway, don't forget my favorite of all – the Seattle Cheese Festival. An entire festival devoted to cheese. At Pike Place Market. In May. Does it get better than that? Nope, I don't think so, either. Everything you ever wanted to know about cheese and more. While you're there, have a nibble for me, please.
If movies are more your style, you're in luck. The Seattle International Film Festival (SIFF) is in town. The launch party is May 20th and films continue through June 13th. Featuring over 400 films from 60 countries, it claims to be the largest film festival in the country. And it's right in your backyard.
Speaking of movies and film festivals, head to Three Dollar Bill's Cinema (1122 E. Pike Street, #1313, Seattle, 206-323-4274) for the Seattle Transgender Film Festival, May 13-16. It may not be as big or as well-known as the SIFF. As one of the only transgender film festivals in the world, it's just as important.
Are you ready to move out of the audience and onto the stage? That's an option, too! RPlace (619 E. Pine Street, Seattle, 206-322-8828) is holding Pride Idol 2010. The competitions are held several nights during the month of May. Winners get cash, prizes, and a chance to ride in the Pride Parade. More information and full details can be found at www.idol.seattlepride.org.
It's May, Poppets. The weather's drying out, the sun is shining and the flowers are in bloom – at least in my imagination. Shake off the rain and snow of winter, get out, and enjoy a little Spring for me. And until next month, Poppets, take care of you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
