So I was sitting around mourning my life losses the other day,
lamenting closed windows and opportunities untaken, torturing myself by searching for the audition tapes of all the women who have lived and/or are presently living my personal life-long dream to be a writer/cast member of Saturday Night Live.
Yes, I have more than one personal life-long dream and yes, one of them is to rescue a family of goats, but I have it on good authority that I should aim high so…
If ever, by some miracle, I should one day “make it”, at the top of my acceptance speech list will be my parents, my children, my girlfriend, my agent, my manager, and The Deer Garden.
As I continued to surf the interweb of my broken dreams, one link leading to the next, and the next and the next, I suddenly I realized that somewhere I’d taken a very wrong turn. I was no longer watching audition videos, but scrolling through what may have been one of the most disturbing internet forum threads I’ve ever seen.
Granted I don’t really peruse forums much, unless they’re about word press plug-in compatibility issues, or DIY home remedies for anything that can be cured with tea tree oil, turmeric or ginger, so what do I know?
Did you know, that there are online forums crawling with bazillions of creepers who are obsessed with other people; talking about the things that they do or do not know about them and having actual virtual real-life arguments about them like they know them personally even though they don’t???
Do famous people realize that the people who wait outside for them, after a show, and ask for selfies and autographs and stuff, run home and post them in these weird underground stalker caves, where other stalkers sit and wait with bated breath to hear and argue amongst themselves about it???
Do. They. Know. That? If they don’t, You. Should. Tell. Them.
I’m not going to lie. At first I was somewhat fascinated.
Really? Her maybe-girlfriend is a clown…? Weird. Clowns are weird.
But the more it went, and the deeper I got, the more uncomfortable I became…
Okay wait… so you checked the twitter account of her maybe-girlfriend to see who she is following, and then you checked the twitter accounts of the people she’s following to see if they are following her back?? And you then did the same on Instagram??? And then you used this scientifically proven, highly respected and indesputibly reliable method of research to determine whether or not the two victims of your voyeurism are dating each other? For real? Actually?
She reminds you of your ex? How?? Did you also NOT know your ex in real life???
And also… you know “normal” “stable” lesbians?????????????
The more I read, the more nauseated I became. I felt guilty for ever looking at anything that was even remotely related to her, let alone intentionally googling her audition tape/youtube videos of absolutely every single sketch or interview she’s ever done in the entirety of her whole life.
but I kept scrolling, kind of like one might, when witnessing a traffic accident; with our head turned slightly to the side, hands over both eyes, but with one eye kind of squinting and peeking through the fingers.
I was amazed by some of the things that people casually announced, as though there was nothing weird or restraining-order-inducing about what they were saying.
No! No it is not okay. And neither is this:
You know why? Because Kate McKinnon is not Perry Como.
And can I just take a moment to ask you all what a “Fancy Dress Mask” is?
And can we please just take a moment to remember that these people you are talking about are actual human beings? Please? I mean, I can’t imagine how violating it would feel to see this kind of craziness about your own self?
Granted, I’ve never been famous, on account of those crushed dreams that I mentioned earlier, but if I could imagine what it was like, were I famous enough for people to dedicate entire forums to dissecting my life like it were on a glass slide under a microscope, I would imagine this would scare the crap out of me!
Think about it really. Take any of those lines and replace the celebrity’s name with your own, and just sit with how weird that feels.
Soft Butch……..? I was 7 years old in 1977 for God’s sake! What is wrong with you people?
Okay you know what? It was more like mid-march when word got out. And also, do you though? Do you hope it goes well? Because…
I’m not feeling’ it. And my girlfriend does not look like doom and gloom okay? She does smile and laugh, she’s just super shy, and also she likes to look super cool and aloof – It’s her thing. Just like your thing is being a creepy jealous weirdo.
Yeah… near/far, pretty much all of the above. I mean, I can kinda almost see properly in that space that’s right betwe.. wait. Who wonders that about a person???
Okay I can see how some people might think she’s my assistant but she likes to carry my luggage for me and I’m just joking when I call her my Burlesque Sherpa. Kinda…
People please! This has to stop. Right now!
Oh my GOD STOP! You really think I’m funny AND smart? Really? Thank you sooooo much. I think you’re pretty too Bekah. Well, if you look anything like your avatar that is…
But seriously people, you actually need to stop. You need to ask yourself why you are so freaking obsessed with these celebrities. Ask yourself what they have that you don’t. And go get whatever that thing is, because I promise you PROMISE you A) That person isn’t who you think they are, B) If they knew you were talking about them that way, they (unless they are Taylor Swift) would be horrified and want nothing to do with you, and C) The internet is not real life.
Except for the cat videos. Those are real. 100%.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s crazy to have a little celebrity crush. Or somebody who inspires you to the point where you may or may not have added this first ever lesbian action figure to
my your Amazon Wish List…
I’m just saying… Step away from the computer. Stop living vicariously through somebody else, and start living your own actual real life. You can hate me right now if you need to, but if you follow my advice, you’ll thank me later. When I’m famous. Right?
I want my body back!!!
I’m not really a baby, I swear, and if any of these things would just happen alone I wouldn’t even be whining about it. REALLY.
I know it could be worse.
I know half of the world has it harder than me.
I know all of that but I REALLY want my body back.
If it was just the mutant cold.
Or just the monstrous self-impregnating cold sore that has been eating my face for a week.
Or just an injured bicep tendon and rotator cuff.
Or JUST the freakish infection that has decided to play house in my calf.
I promise I wouldn’t be complaining. For real.
But if you could just take a minute to imagine the vision of beauty that I am right now.
A drooling, runny-nosed, coughing, confused, limping, face-herpes victim with a big dark red spot encircled by a giant red lump on the back of my leg, with a black circle drawn on it in felt pen.
All I’m missing is a hump… and a mole with a hair growing out of it.
Honestly, I disgust myself. I’ve hung sheets over all the mirrors in the house.
The cats won’t even look at me anymore.
If my girlfriend wasn’t too drunk weak from whatever plague I infected her with, to get up off the couch, she would probably pack up and move out.
Naturally, since I’ve been injured for months and sick for weeks, I can’t remember the last time I actually worked out.
And in case my trainer is reading this, yes, I know I worked out but I mean like for real.
More than once a week, and actually working.
I mean not just half halfheartedly lumbering around the gym like a drunk bear on a tricycle.
I mean breaking out into a sweat – not breaking out into hives ( I’ve apparently developed an allergy to physical exertion and general warmth).
I’ve basically gained a trillion pounds, which doesn’t do much for one’s moral.
I tried fighting it for a few days. I made an effort, you know?
Showering, make-up etc… but then I realized that between the incredibly low lighting in our house, and my early-onset middle-aged blindness…. I looked less polished than I did like an elderly drag-queen troll doll.
Especially since my hairdresser had the audacity to go and get herself knocked up with child and stopped colouring my hair (roots) months ago. Honestly, some people are so selfish…
So I gave up. I’ve stopped brushing my hair and quite honestly, it’s been liberating. I have so much more time in a day now – better spent obsessively checking and re-drawing the black circle that the doctor drew around the infected area of my leg.
“The redness shouldn’t go much beyond this line, or you need to be seen again right away.”
The doctor who told me that one of the side effects of the antibiotics he prescribed me is…
“I really wish you hadn’t told me that”
“I have to. As a doctor, I’m obligated to warn you of all potential side effects. But don’t worry, nobody that I’ve prescribed this to has ever come back to me infected with it”
“Of course they haven’t! They didn’t go BACK to you! They went to the hospital! JEESUS!”
Okay, so where does that leave us?
Ah yes, a trillion pound, plague infected, physically challenged, itchy, limping, grey-haired, mutant-mouth with an angry target drawn on her calf… So basically, I’m this guy right here:
Tune in tomorrow for yet another awe inspiring look into the life of a glamour queen and, if you’re really lucky, an update on the status of the ring around my calf.
xox JJ xox
On December 5th, Jo found a tiny kitten on my deck.
The poor thing was scared and tried to hide from us behind a palette. We chased her around for a while before catching her, which I’m pretty sure we only accomplished because she kept banging into walls. It was clear that she couldn’t see.
She was tiny and sickly and her eyes were crusted shut.
We were so very proud of ourselves for being the saviours of the day.
Until a little later the same day, when we heard Mama-Cat at my back door, crying for her baby. And she had a second one with her.
When we went outside to approach them, they both ran.
After walking up and down the the alley, knocking on doors and questioning the neighbours, we came to learn that Mama-Cat is pretty much always pregnant but that this time there only seemed to be two kittens in the litter.
We decided that the plan was to wait to be absolutely sure exactly how many kittens there were, then attempt to trap the entire family, nursing them back to health and hopefully having the mother sterilized.
In the meantime, we made an appointment for the the kitten that we did have, at the vet.
“Sharon” was aged at about 5-6 weeks. She was sick and feverish and her eyes so badly infected that we weren’t sure if she would ever see. She was prescribed several doses of various antibiotics and drops, de-worming, and flea medication.
Every few hours we washed around her eyes and hand fed and medicated her.
At first I was worried it was going to be difficult to tame her but it only took a couple of hours for her to go from being a terrified kitten trying to hide from us, to a little purring mush-puddle in our arms.
We set up a bed, water bowl and litter box in a dog crate in my office, as Sharon’s new condo.
And every morning, afternoon, and night, we left the back door open for a little while, leaving a bowl of wet food in the door way for her mother.
After a couple of days, Mama-Cat brought baby number two back to my house, and I lured him into the office with a trail of treats.
He was easily fooled but entirely feral and literally jumping up the walls and clawing at the door to get out.
When I finally managed to trap him in a corner, I put him in the crate with his sister, who was so happy to “see” him, that she ran right over and sat on top of him.
“Jack” wasn’t nearly as easy to tame, probably because, unlike his sister, he had perfect vision.
He hissed at us, and ran and hid every time we came in the room for almost a week. I was starting to feel discouraged and worried that I’d made a big mistake by bringing him in the house, but slowly…
Jack’s love for snuggles outweighed his fear of everything. The first day he purred, I actually started to cry.
We took him to the vet also and he received a clean bill of health. We de-wormed and de-flead him.
Sharon, on the other hand wasn’t doing quite so well. She seemed to be responding to the medication, and her eyes finally started opening. She even started to see a tiny bit, mostly shadows I think, but we were getting really excited.
Until her body started rejecting her seeing eye. It turned out that the infection was too far gone and had created too much damaged behind the eye, for her to be able to support it, so it had to be removed.
It was so hard to see such a tiny fragile little thing go into surgery but she was amazing and pulled through like a champ.
It was touch and go with the second eye, but it’s been almost two weeks since the surgery and it looks like she’ll be able to keep it.
Unfortunately she seems to be completely blind now.
Fortunately it really doesn’t seem to bother her in the least.
Sharon has finished all her medications and has her last post-surgery vet visit this week and we’re pretty optimistic that she’s fully recovered.
For the first two weeks of this rescue mission, Mama Cat camped out on my back balcony almost full time, and she came in the office for meals and visits with her babies in the morning and the evenings.
Our plan was to try and tame her enough to adopt her out but we simply didn’t have enough time before moving day. We would like to go back and get her, to at least have her sterilized but the winter has really set in now and it would be hard on her to be released into this, without proper follow-up care.
We spoke to the next door neighbour before moving and he agreed to let us move the shelter she’d been sleeping in, from our balcony to his back yard. Last we saw Mama-Cat was sleeping in it with her boyfriend (he is clearly the father of the two kittens) and an one of the older kittens from her previous litter.
We already have two cats and two dogs at home and we live in a two bedroom duplex, so there is clearly no way we can keep the kittens, which breaks my heart to pieces.
I can’t believe that after everything we went through with them, we’ll have to say goodbye to them, but whoever does take them on is going to be the luckiest cat-owner in the world.
It would be most ideal if whoever adopts them could take them together, as they are deeply attached to each other and Jack is not only Sharon’s big brother, but her seeing eye-cat.
If that’s not possible, she would do best in a family that already has a cat, who can show her around, and her new forever family will have to be sensitive to her needs. We learned quickly that petting her or picking her up with out warning startles her, and that moving the furniture is really disorienting and upsetting to her. She bumps into things constantly but learns quickly what’s where.
ALSO! The vet said that Sharon is a little miracle and actually does have some, albeit rather limitted, vision in her existing eye – and, while she is still cautious and pretty clumbsy – she is starting to learn to tilt her head in order to see a little bit better… kind of. We’re so excited for her!
All adoption inquiries can be made through Pussy Patrol Cat Rescue
(www.pussiepatrolcatrescue.com), who I have to thank a million times over for all the help and support through this, as well as Dr Veronik Auger and Dr. Jade Zollo and their team at the Clinique Vétérinaire Plateau Mont Royal who were absolutely AMAZING with all of their help and reassurance.
PS: Adoption isn’t the only way to help. Pussy Patrol accepts donations of any amount. Every dollar donated counts, and goes directly towards saving, rescuing, rehabilitating and socializing feral and abandoned cats and kittens.
Where your funds are going:
-Emergency vet care
-Medications and tests
-Feeding and Fostering
No profits are made from donation or adoptions and work only to recover vet costs and provide assistance to our foster families.
Sharon’s existing eye is kind of funny looking but she has full recover of her vision and is able to see!! She’s super happy, affectionate and active – She would probably thrive best in a home with another cat, but is quite independent.
Jack is a sweetie-pie and loves snuggles but prefers the company of cats to humans. He would be best adopted with his sister as a duo.
Here he is with his surrogate mama (my cat Phoebe)
A big GIANT HUGE thank you to everyone who supported, encouraged, animated, participated and/or showed interest in the Women’s Workshop Weekend this past weekend. We are motivated and inspired and excited to start working on the next session, for March 2016!
Stay updated by subscribing to our newletter here: www.womensworkshopweekend.com
A big thank you to the Ambaa Yoga studio for sharing their beautiful space full of good energy, for the workshops.
And thank you also to Lucie of I Love Healthy Lucie, for the tasty treats and coupons for our participants.
Ever find yourself wandering from room to room of your apartment, dressed in a tutu and eating cracker-jacks while singing Peggy Lee’s “is that all there is” over and over again on a loop ?
I think I might have just the thing…
Longing for inner adventure and self discovery?
I do! I have the workshop for you!
Remember the Women’s Workshop Weekend that I put together in the spring?
Well it’s back!
And I’m giving a workshop that I think you should be there for:
Me Myself & Mine is a unique personal growth workshop designed to give you the tools necessary to unearth and clearly define some of your subconscious or neglected desires, and to discover and balance some of the elements you may be missing in your life. You will also learn a simple goal setting technique to help you channel your energy towards meaningful activity and a deeper sense of purpose.
Register here: http://www.womensworkshopweekend.com/shop
And bring an open mind and comfortable clothing…or your tutu.
Other workshops offered include Burlesque, Foraging, Self-Defence, and Habitadaptation, so check out the web site for more info: WomensWorkshopWeekend.com
Dear Lady’s Lounge lovers, supporters, and loyal readers.
You have been so amazingly amazing, it’s amazing. Really.
With your help, we were able to raise enough money to pay the $195 randsom to godaddy for the blog posts of Lady’s Lounge Past.
Of course, it wasn’t as simple as just paying and presto having my posts back but I’m working on digging through the labrynth of files and databases that they have given me access to, and while it remains to be seen, whether or not it’s all there, I will try to repost at least one post per day until we’re completely up and running again.
I thank you again a million times over and I love you bigger than the whole wide world.
Some of you may have noticed that all the posts, photos, and music you have grown to know, love and listen to, here at the Lady’s Lounge, are missing.
You click on links, on the facebook page, leads you to an ugly error message…
Oops! That page can’t be found.
Pangs ache from deep within as your heart crumbles.
Why? Whyyyy??? You cry to open skies.
Because The Lady’s Lounge files are being held hostage by godaddy and they want a randsom of $195 before August 31st or they cement the feet of every post I’ve written since 2009, wrestle them into a burlap sack, and toss them in the river, never to be seen again.
Scroll down for the long boring version of how this came to be.
In the meantime, for the cost of a cup of coffee a day you could have a cup of coffee. But for a dollar… provided there were 195 people reading this with interest and the driving desire to contribute to what I like to call artistic expression and/or entertaining the masses and/or ranting and blabbering about the trials and tribulations of being me…
YOU can single handedly (all 195 of you) help save The Lady’s Lounge from being lost and gone forever!
Also, if any of you just happen to have any of my posts archived in one of your readers/apps/shrines etc… pleeeeeeeeeease can you do me a favour and forward me a copy to firstname.lastname@example.org
I know some of the posts seem silly but they are everything I have written for the last 6 years, so any of it that can be salvaged would mean the world to me.
godaddy changed the hosting platform that I was using and consequently all of my sites that were hosted on the old system were were taken down.
godaddy is willing to do a disaster recovery of my files… for $195 per site.
I have talked to several representatives at godaddy. I have begged and pleaded and menaced and stalked.
They all said the same thing. Some also tried to sell me more products.