Weighty Matters - 4 - 3 -99 to 4-7-99

"Coming Soon To A Theater Near You!", "Blasphemy, Blasphemy, All Is Blasphemy", "Looking Out Windows"

April 3, 1999
With the success of the IE explorer upgrade, I thought I'd go to the website for Hot Dog. They were bound to have some upgrades since version 1.0024. Oh yes, they did. A program called Hot Dog Express had things in 'modules' and 'even let you look at the coding'. This doesn't inspire confidence. The professional version, designed for those advanced beyond beginner stage cost $129, or $199 for a souped-up model. Maybe I don't need all the 'souping up'. I've been doing quite well with the old 'jalopy'. Anytime I see a trick that impresses, I view the source code, copy and paste, adapt, and the trick is mine. Okay, I have no whiz bang java, cascading style sheets, dynamic html and so forth. Just basic stuff. But it gets me where I want and I like it. Do I sound 'old fashioned', like I view a person who prefers using DOS over Windows Explorer? Probably. But I like the knowledge that if all I had was Word Perfect 6.0 to work in (saving in standard ascii format), I could manage.

"What If...A Movie of the Triad!"

"It Only Gets Better With Time"

(Coming Soon To A Theater Near You!)

The question:
"Suppose a movie is being made of your life, and (now we're REALLY in the realm of fantasy) you have been given artistic control of the film. Who would star (as you and other principal characters)? Who would you want to direct? Who would you pick to write the music? And most importantly, what would the film be called?"

This is a fascinating question. Who would play the central characters in my life? There are three, as you may know. But we're pretty odd characters, so finding suitable actors is a bit of a go.
I don't think anyone could capture Laura's subtleties. She's a multi faceted person, and any actor out there could at best capture only a few. Yes, I did say actor and not actress. I hated it when one movie of a transsexual (Renee Richards) used a female to play her role. Oddly they'd used a male to play the before-transition persona. Who could capture the bright smiling look Laura has when full of herself after using her wit in some fashion? Who could capture the way her face becomes radiant when holding a baby? Hmm, Robin Williams has a zest all his own, and did all right with Mrs Doubtfire. Maybe he would do. But could he capture Laura when 'righteously' angry? I know Mel Gibson could, after seeing his portrayal of legendary Scottish knight Sir William Wallace in Braveheart as he fought for his country's freedom. But then, that's taking two people. No, I keep with my original statement.

(Note of March 19, 2006)
I change this choice now, and pick instead the actor that Laura chose, Leonardo di Caprio. In his recent movies, he's proven himself an actor of versatility and strength. It's not that I don't think Mel Gibson is a strong actor, I think he's proven by the movies he's chosen to do that he has a different value system than what Laura did, and hence would have great conflicts playing her. I sense this and respect the difference. Nevertheless, he was a fierce one one in Braveheart:

Laura when 'righteously angry'
And no one could do Julia. First off, in general appearance, there are no male actors with hips that large. In fact, there are few female actresses with hips that large. So, whoever, in whatever gender variation, would need lots of hip padding. Julia has a unique form of spontaneous word punning that no script writer could come up with on their own. Julia couldn't even do it, for these things spew out at the moment, and are quickly forgotten. But the best that I can think of is one half Ginger and one half The Professor from Gilligan's Island. Julia has a ditsy sort of femininity similar to Ginger's, while her unique and vast knowledge of historical and linguistic matters would rival his character.
Imagining who would play me turned up a blank. So much of my life is lived in the mind, and it's hard to step outside and have a look at myself.
I was curious to see what Laura and Julia would say to this question. Laura's sometimes fantasized that her autobiography would be cast into a movie someday. Who would she want to play the three main characters? Her answers surprised me. To play herself, the best, of course, would be a true gender variant. But there's so few who are in the acting field. The actor/actress has to portray both Laura's strong feminine and masculine sides. The only female that might manage believeably would be Rosie O'Donnell. However, she thought Leonardo di Caprio would be excellent for her younger years. He'd look good all prettied up and he needs a role to challenge him. For her later years, she thought Anthony Hopkins would be able to depict all aspects. And Hollywood makeup could do wonders on his face. Julia seemed to agree.
Both Julia and Laura thought Julie Newmar could play Julia. I think this is because Miss Newmar has such long legs. Julia does have some long legs.
And, my, oh my, who did they think could portray the essence of me? I had to laugh - Ellen DeGeneris - but it makes sense, she WOULD be right!
Who should direct? Well, my first thought was John Waters, but he does only comedies. Perhaps he could work with Dino di Laurentiis and have the right mixture of humor and high drama. Julia suggested that John Williams could do the music. What would the movie be called? Something zippier than my journal titles, " A Tale Told With Time" or "Weighty Matters", that's for sure. Would I filch Laura's title, "In the Arms of a Rainbow"? No, I'll go with "It Only Gets Better With Time", for I've found it true.

April 4, 1999

Happy Easter!

What A Fiend We Have In Cheeses
What a fiend we have in cheeses,
All our tummy griefs to bare,
What a price to pay so hi - gh,
Thus the gluttoness despair!

It's 1:28am, and I am not doing well. That cheese sandwich I had earlier was a mistake. I took a prescription strength Tagamet, but it's doing little good. I should learn that I do not do well with cheese. Should learn! Oh, my tummy hurts.
Meanwhile, all this insomnia has been grist for some deep thoughts:

" That It Not Have To Be Worse"

As I laid in bed, tossing and turning with queasiness, my thoughts got increasingly louder until I got up and took some medicine. It's Easter and my thoughts turn to family. I know I'm in their prayers today.
They're far away, and seem far away emotionally (with the grateful exception of my Mother). But I know they think of me. I know they are all glad I was born. I don't have the pain that comes from not being wanted or being thought a burden.
My Mother has lamented that her relationships with men didn't turn out the way she had hoped. But in compensation for those pains, she's been glad of the children which resulted. She's often said the two best things in her life has been her children. As the years go by, and the years between us seem smaller, we've become friends. She gave me a magnetic plaque for the refrigerator which says "You're good at being my daughter, and even better at being my friend." When we talk on the phone, each of our voices raising with excitement, we do seem more like two mature women sharing thoughts, feelings and events of the day, than mother-daughter. It's one of the blessings of time.
The Mother of one of our friends had told her child, after learning of her transsexuality, that she wished her child had never been born. Such wounds cut deep and rarely heal. I know my Gramma never felt like that. I know Aunt June and the rest of my fundamentalist family don't feel that way. They pray mightily that I see the error of my 'chosen lifestyle', and be 'born again', but I know that never even once did such a life negating thought enter their heads. They think of how my talents could be used as a mouthpiece for the Lord and really do tremble and fear for my mortal soul. So on this anniversary of their Risen Lord, they are praying with increased fervency for my redemption.
I DO know things could be worse.
I wonder what sort of Easter those people over in Yugoslavia are having. Bombs landing in Belgrade, the roughly 600,000 driven from their homes, and even tortured. Oh, yes, I do know things could always be worse.
I pray that it not have to BE worse.

April 5, 1999
One has to feel sorry for people who belong to Terribly Repressive religious sects. They live, possessed of the idea that all of us Godless Heathen are conspiring against them
Any such person slumming about in this here journal is now peeved at me because I've 'ruined' one of their favorite hymns. They'll never listen to "What a Friend We Have In Jesus" without thinking of the hazards of cheese.
The whole world is a minefield to them. Last night's "Simpson's" proved it. Marge, Homer and the kids are at church for Easter Services. They fall asleep during the sermon and, oh the hilarious way their dreams retell old Biblical stories. "Blasphemy, blasphemy, all is blasphemy," their disheartened souls cry.
Yes, one does understand why they give up TV, never frequent restaurants that sell booze, never go to movies, never dance, never listen to rock and roll . . . The world is a dangerous place to them.
They do have such a limited parameter in which things feel safe.
I know the woman Julia, Shayna and I met yesterday in the restroom of a good non-booze serving family restaurant thought she was safe. The three of us had entered the restaurant solely for bladder relief. I'm not sure how the conversation got started. Maybe it was earlier when Shayna was telling about purchasing new bras. Searching for brasseries that hook in the front, she was amused when the clerk had called them 'front loaders'.
Anyway, as we were washing our hands in the restroom, she was bewailing that at twenty eight, she was already droopy. I was assuring her that my breasts were much droopier, and that if they were bra-clad, and thus held out parallel to the ground, they'd proceed out in front of me to an amazing degree. If my body were compared to a city, my breasts would definitely have their own zip code. At this point, Shayna lifts her sweater, pulls up her bra, and lets her boobies drop.
Enter said woman of Terribly Repressive religious sect! She was about fifty, wearing a white skirt and navy jacket. If anyone remembers Jane Hathaway from Beverly Hillbillies, there was a certain resemblence. Imagine Jane Hathaway ten or fifteen years older, and possessing an Extremely Tight Lipped expression. All of her psychic porcupine quills bristled stiffly when she laid eyes on Shayna's naked breasts. I started howling with laughter. I thought my diaphragm would bust, I laughed so much. Tears were running down my eyes. Julia, still in the stall, demanded that we tell her what was so funny. "Later, Julia, we'll tell you later . . .
The three of us followed The Lady out of the restaurant. She walked as if something had been inserted into her to insure an upright posture. Her moral rigidity had been severely tested.

April 6, 1999
I followed temptation and did buy the latest Rockapella album when we were out Sunday. Those five guys make an amazing sound, using nothing but their voices and bodies. I absolutely adore good choral music. They made my work day yesterday so much more pleasant.
So I was quite curious when an email I recently received announced GAYBC Radio Network Presents New Choral Music! Perhaps I could hear it with the Windows Media Player. One thing lead to another.
My curiousity about the latest technology and consequent downloading of Internet Explorer 5.0 has inspired Laura as well. She thought we might hear these streaming audio radio broadcasts even better with the latest edition of Real Audio. This wasn't a freebie, but seems quite worth it. We were listening to radio from around the world. Kiss100 from the UK, chanting nuns from the Vatican, stations from Japan, Germany, Switzerland . . . There are more stations available than we have on our regular radio. Truly the world is getting 'smaller' all the time. But one thing that has been true, long before modern media communications existed, and will be true as we pass millenium to millenium:

The world is only as big as your mind.

Big thoughts often consume me, but so often small ones do as well. I've noticed with the passing of time I'm not on the New list at Mining Co's Journal section. So I looked in their list of Online Journals. I'm not there! How can this be? So I nosed around and found my link in the Health Journals section. Whew! I'm not saying I live for linkage (I might 'starve'), but my ever growing ego seems to have developed a taste for it.
That insecurity relieved, all hasn't been well, for my sinuses have been dreadfully paining me. Laura suggested I take some time off to go shopping with her. I didn't argue very much against it. We went to an art store. I'd used up all my good drawing paper, so I got two new books of it while there. There's something joyous about the promise of all those clean sheets. The extra smooth and heavy vellum paper begs for my colorful streaks.
When we got back home, Max wasn't excitedly waiting to greet us. He's at the vets for a teeth cleaning, toenail clipping and to see what's wrong with his ears. A teeth cleaning on a human isn't a big thing, but for a dog, it is a major task requiring anesthesia. The ear thing is really hurting him, too. This morning he was starting to look rather listless and out of it. Laura's on hold with the vet now to learn about the ear. He may not be ready to come home for a while, though. They only finished the teeth cleaning a half hour ago.
We also received bad word about Cynthia and the twins. She had to be taken to the hospital for premature labor. It doesn't look like they have much of a chance of making it.
Laura at last spoke with the vet. Max's right ear was so densely impacted, just a rinse would not clean it out. They had to dig it out. It wasn't ear mites at all that was bothering him. He has a YEAST infection in his ear! So the vet put him on antibiotics, ant-iinflamatories, and pain pills. Max will need to return next week, to make sure the infection is all gone. No wonder he was so listless.

In the evening. . .
Max is home now. He's feeling pretty woozy. But the latest news concerning Cynthia's twins is really bad. Only a miracle would save them now. The only positive news is Cynthia is young and strong, and future attempts at children should be successful.
Of course, I've still got the sinus headache. So what am I doing to get my mind off of things? I'm trying to play with a java trick. Have a look at Max's photo if you can. I've got it to work in Netscape 4.0 and 3.0, albeit without the orange text when the mouse 'hovers' over its link, but still I'm told there's an 'syntax error in line 20'. The Internet Explorer handles it with no such complaint. Oh well, I'll study this further.

April 7, 1999
The wretched sinus headache is still bad. I finished the last of the necessary sewing and am lazing for the rest of the day. There's still no definitive word on the twins. They flew Cynthia to Good Samaritan's, in Phoenix central, because it has the best prenatal unit.
Max is looking better. The painkiller is helping him. I think I'll go lay back down.

I find myself looking out windows, at the moving clouds and wind-tossed trees

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