DRINKIN’(AND DRUNKEN) BEAUTIES - PART TWO!!!

Friday Morning – It all began at 8:30 AM

Arriving late at Ms. S’s house, I’ve had too much instant cappuccino mix and I’ve forgotten the cookout table. Nothing out of the ordinary there. After loading her into my truck, we headed over to Ms. T’s house which is the meeting place for everyone and has been since the beginning of time. As usual, I’m one of the three chosen drivers and somehow we’re going to fit all of our gear plus our twelve sorry asses into two SUV’s and a mini-van. I transported five of the twelve ladies. The other SUV had two ladies and most of their gear plus a little bit of everyone else’s and the mini-van carted the remaining five ladies.

A car full of chatty and excited women can be difficult to manage therefore my first self-imposed requirement was to drink at least two beers before heading out. Please see the picture. This is what was in my back seat (from left to right: Ms. S, Ms. A, and Ms. E – not pictured Ms. T – she was shotgun). Now you understand the beer and why this is where things begin to get fuzzy for me. I didn’t drink while I drove; I drank only at the stops, thereby maintaining some sort of sobriety until we arrived at our destination.

Take a hard stare at these young, vibrant, beautiful, unassuming, innocent and angelic looking women. I’m sure it’s impossible to believe that the conversations which came out of these ladies could’ve made even poor John Holmes (God rest his soul) blush. Oh yes, I did joyously partake of the iniquitous conversations and contributed to them by providing the joyous sounds of a cheesy romance novel on audiotape.

In my excitement of such luscious talk, I began to rush things by speeding down the highway at 80 mph and I passed a state patrol car as it pulled out to probably pull me over. The speed at which my friends hid their beer cans and drink containers was faster than I’d ever seen them move, ever. Luckily, I didn’t get stopped but had he done so, he would’ve smelled our well pickled fragrance and it could’ve been very bad. I cannot even imagine the possible comments which could’ve poured out of the back seat while the man in uniform would do his job and write me a ticket. Imagine hearing a quiet giggle then ‘oh my, look at his thrusting and turgid pleasure rod’. It probably would’ve have sent me over the edge and straight to jail (and then hell).

In retrospect, I think we scared him. I think he knew better than to mess with us that day. Us ladies…the big scary lesbians.

I’ve only covered Friday morning. There still is Friday night, Saturday and Sunday to cover.

Hang in there as there is much much more to be continued…

DRINKIN’(AND DRUNKEN) BEAUTIES - PART ONE!!!

Introduction and ‘You think we’re what?’

This past weekend I survived yet another one of our annual Girls Only weekends. As usual, I learned a lot about the lives of other women and I learned a lot about myself. Granted, there’s a tremendous amount of alcohol consumed which always enhances our many philosophical discussions as well as our many not-so-philosophical discussions and unfortunately I end up forgetting what the hell we talked about by Sunday night. A wicked side effect of alcohol, I’m afraid.

Recently I mentioned to the ladies that I would eventually write a book encompassing all of our past adventures and put them into a one long weekend story but I’m beginning to think this may be impossible. We’ve had too many adventures, mishaps and revelations to make my one-weekend story believable. I’ll get it all creatively combined one day and it’ll have to happen soon because as the years move along, the list of stories is becoming overwhelming.

It didn’t occur to me until now that my blog can include at least a tiny portion of the experience.

I spent the past 3 days with a most eclectic, intelligent, strong-willed, open-minded, loving, charismatic, humorous, witty, stubborn, talented, creative, independent and powerful group of women I’ve ever known. These weekends always leave me in awe not to mention greatly humbled. Our group of twelve covers just about every type of woman in any stage of life. Some of the ladies are single, married, cohabitating, some with children, some without children, some grandmothers, menopausal, pre-menopausal, not even close to menopausal, and some wishing we were menopausal. Some of us have very few tattoos to none at all while some of us are very well inked and others of us are working our way to well inked. I would continue but I think I’ve covered the gist of us.

Keeping in mind the above description, we’ve now been labeled by the last two campgrounds as ‘that group of lesbians’. Whether or not we have lesbians amidst us is of no importance. What is important is the fact that we’ve been labeled as such and it has led us into the discussion of why. Why is it assumed we are all lesbians? Because we are able to camp, grille out, hang out, tease, talk like sailors and have a good time without the assistance of men? Is it because the male campers in the surrounding area fantasize and wish we were lesbians (of course because we’re all beautiful!!!)? On what basis does the label come from? I’m personally not insulted because I don’t care what people think but I’m fascinated by the assumption.

It’s inevitable that our happy little group of females will become infiltrated by some overly-curious male to whom we usually end up asking to leave after we’ve been rude and very blunt about our displeasure with his presence. It’s a Girls Only weekend after all. But for some reason, a waywardly male has to come and say ‘hello’. Is our rejection of such a male the reason for the lesbian label? Honestly guys, do you really think our rejection of you means we’re gay? If this is true, how egocentric can you be?

The reasoning behind these weekends is because we have enough men in our lives and we’d like to have at least three days out of the year of a completely different type of entertainment. No kids, no men, no Tupperware or whatever kind of chick party crap and no talking about our jobs (I honestly have no idea what anyone does for a living.). Just us ladies being who we are, saying what we like, chastising one another without worry of insult, and most of all the camaraderie and wisdom that each one of us provides to each other. And somehow this makes us lesbians. What a most fascinating accusation.

This is the weekend where I come back feeling justified in who I am as a person. This is the weekend where no woman is allowed to feel inadequate, dumb, incapable, fat, ugly, unwanted, or whatever other insecurities we all tend to suffer from. I’ll admit my faults are brought clearly into the open and made plain to me by Sunday morning but I’m never left to feel as though I’m less of a person because of them. I’m always left to appreciate the diversity of talent these women surround me with and I know I can call on them when needed. There’s much comfort in knowing that we all fill some kind of void in one way or another.

I think next time I see a group of men camping/hunting or whatever together, I’ll consider spreading the rumor that they’re a group of homosexuals and I’ll contemplate infiltrating their group but somehow this doesn’t seem like a good idea. I’m very tempted to cause this type of trouble but common sense tells me to leave the idea as it is…an idea only and no action required.

I will be posting more stuff about this weekend later this week. I have to sober up first and sort through some pictures. I may or may not post pictures and I most certainly won’t be revealing who anyone is. Someone in our group may want to run for office one day and I’d hate to ruin her chances. I'm sure, because of this post (and future ones), I will suffer some kind of chastise anyway. We're not known for holding our opinions back from one another. Let her rip ladies, I can take it!

To be continued…

TRASHY LITERATURE VS TRASHY TELEVISION

Yes, it's true. I'm a literature snob admitting the inconceivable.
I sometimes read trashy romance novels.
SOMETIMES!

Most of the time, if I'm not writing, I'm reading well written novels. The classics usually and the modern stuff occasionally.

As far as the trashy romance novels, about 90% of the time I listen to the audio books in the car during my hour drive to and from work and I'll listen to them when I'm doing chores around the house. I need mindless crap sometimes. When driving, I always try to remember to keep my windows up when I'm at a stoplight. I worry the surrounding cars may overhear the narrator speak about the lead male character's throbbing whatever and it embarrasses me to no end.

Very rarely will I read a trashy novel. It's usually because I don't like the person narrating and I've become addicted to a series. I should know better than to start a series...I know and I'm very sorry.

The radio stinks and I can only listen to my music collection so many times. Even satellite radio has me bored stiff. I also think reading crap is far better than watching television because it's more mind engaging. I still have to use my imagination to visualize what's going on.

I really do believe in my logic and I'm not trying to make myself feel better for reading/listening to trashy literature.

Here's why:
- I still get to use my imagination instead of having someone hand it to me.
- Ignoring the repetition and purple prose, sometimes the actual story is clever.
- I learn what NOT to do when writing.
- It's not porn but close to it (without the guilt!).
- It creates conversation. E.g. How do muscles of steel ripple? How does one make her breasts thrust? Why are the women usually virgins?

Reading trashy stuff has its downfalls though. Granted I'm not the best grammarian but I cannot believe how some of this crap gets published. Basic grammar has been thrown out the window and don't tell me it's the "writer's style". Creative writing doesn't mean you get to throw out ALL the rules.

If you're able to write creatively and break most if not all of the rules yet maintain an easy flow, then go for it. I have a feeling the people who are able to write that well are not on the bestseller lists. At least none of the modern writers I've seen listed lately.

So, in my opinion, reading trashy literature is better than watching trashy television. I have no guilt for this sad admission. My list of quality reading materials far exceeds my trashy list and as long as I keep it that way, I'm doing myself no harm.