there are xmas tree pine needles in my water bottle.

[raybear]

I just got done with my meetings. Yee-haw. So now I get to wax philosophically in my livejournal. Today's random moment which I spontaneously relived during my meeting is dedicated to stuey (since she was present in the memory) and also to wearemany who will undoubtedly share in the joy of my recollections.

I am prone to attracting Intense Personalities Who Latch^TM and I partially enjoy their company if they're interesting people, but largely fear for my life around them. My senior year of college was the year of Slutty Gay Orthodox Jew Millionaire Boy Genius. But that's a story for another day. Today, I'm remembering Hanson.

Hanson was actually a derisive, behind-her-back nickname that some other friends of mine called her, because she did look somewhat like one of Hanson brothers. Though she was acutally a 30something California lesbian. Not a San Fran dyke. More of an L.A. one. Hanson was originally from Michigan and went to Northwestern University for undergrad. She came out to her family her junior year, who kicked her out of the house, so she dropped out of college, moved to California, had all sorts of adventures, and now, 10 years later, she's back at Northwestern to complete her senior year. Hanson told this story fairly often -- usually within the first few minutes of meeting her at a party.

Today during a meeting on updates to the help desk database, my mind started remembering apartment-sitting for her the winter of my junior year. She had a huge one bedroom apartment in Rogers Park with two ugly cats. The first night I was there, I dragged stuey along with me, and we were in her apartment when the phone rang. I didn't answer it -- why would I? But I happened to be standing next to her old school answering machine (it had two full size audio cassettes), and it was her ex-girlfriend raving about the money Hanson owed her for her American Express bill from a Carribbean vacation they took together. This ex-girlfriend was supposedly a highpowered closet dyke working for Viacom (or, "the Blockbuster company" as Hanson put it). And was supposedly calling from Brazil. I was fascinated by Hanson's stories of the women she dated and the drama that usually ensued. I was also suspicious of how Hanson was consistently always the victim in the story. Then I later wondered how much she was a compulsive liar.

During that time, I had a pager. Hanson paged me all the time. I rarely returned the call. One time she 911 paged me. To tell me she had received a card in the mail from a woman in California and former next door neighbor she shared a hot tub with (who would later go on to become Hanson's new wife). After Texas Friend accidentally dropped my pager in the toilet of GirlBar, I didn't rush out to replace it, since I learned that the people who I hoped and wanted to page me never did, while people like Hanson would do it often.

The next year I tried to warn a 'friend' of mine to stay away from her, but they became quick and close buddies anyway, possibly even having some sort of sordid affair. Which was convenient, since that friend was also treading the water of Intense Personalities Who Latch^TM and later makes an appearance in my transition memoir as the former friend who asked the most inappropriate questions regarding being trans. She also was telling folks I was on hormones months before I actually started -- why she felt compelled to start this rumour, I'll never know.

But when I think of Hanson, I mostly think of one thing:
"Yeah, when I first saw 'Claire of the Moon', I didn't like it either. But actually having the experience of falling in love with a straight woman and having her fall in love with me....man, that movie is amazing. It's right on."

I wonder if she's in San Diego right now living with her hot tub former-straight wife.

Comments

spank me

[stuey.livejournal.com]

that was the most entertaining thing i've read in awhile. i love thinking about such things, the things you recalled in your *memory* because, well, they make me feel healthy and sane. and, really, like an all-around better person.

how selfish of me.

oh, the totally did have a sordid affair. don't you remember finally getting the details? were you there when the *friend* compared their relationship to an amusement park? interesting analogy.

p.s. i still have the black sweatpants i took from her over-organized closet.
p.p.s. actually, i lied. i think claire might have them. or i left them in iowa city. or evanston, even. who knows...
p.p.p.s. didn't we watch *georgia* that night? i think i fell asleep. but now i own that movie. i love mere.

Re: spank me

[raybear.livejournal.com]

I was entertaining myself with that entry, but even happier that people would be reading who were THERE for parts of it.

And NO, I wasn't there for the amusement park analogy. She was big on analogies, wasn't she? Like she could never say anything outright. Part of me wants to hear more of these sordid details because it would be funny now. Scary at the time. But funny now.

Yes, we watched Georgia. And we did fall asleep, because it was late. Plus, it was a Blockbuster employee copy, so that stupid message kept scrolling across the bottom of the screen....

I forgot about the sweat pants!! Excellent. She had an excessive clothes collection anyway, which I believe is why I recommended you take them.

granted I was 18 when I first watched the movie, but....

[supergoat.livejournal.com]

Oh dear god!
Claire of the Moon?

That is, quite possibly, one of the worst and most melodramatic movies that I have ever seen in my life!

Talk about drama with 30-something literary snob lesbians!

Re: granted I was 18 when I first watched the movie, but....

[raybear.livejournal.com]

precisely why her comment is so hi-LAY-rious.