Greetings From The Undergirl!: Shit, Piss, Dicks, Tits and Elderberry Jelly!

Quick introduction: I thought up Greetings From the Undergirl! last week, for some reason (even bought the domain names), and thought it would be a fun way to write about more than one topic at a time – a sum up, really, of the things I have learned and am learning about the world around me. It’s sort of like Greetings From The Underground, or Greetings From The Underdog, but from the perspective of a female, and not just any female, mind you, but a female quite developed in physical and streetwise ways, but way underdeveloped in mental and emotional ways, a female trying desperately to catch up with her same-age-group peers. There is so much to learn, so much to write about, and it is happening every damn day.

I don’t understand…

I heard on NPR News last night that there was some serious debate about whether or not minors deserve lesser penalties for crimes just because they are minors. Several points-of-view were laid out, but the prevalent one was that they might be somehow more susceptible to rehabilitation because of their age. This sort of struck me as odd. You know, fifty years ago and more, children might not have been so prone to committing crimes, on a whole. Factor in the overall population by percentage, and there probably weren’t as many crimes committed by children, especially felony crimes like rape and armed robbery. But… times change. A culture, a society must change with the times. I don’t like the prison system the way it is, I don’t necessarily think they cater to rehabilitating criminals, but if you have more minors committing crimes, it’s probably time to adjust the rules. I also don’t understand the thinking that because they’re younger that they’re more apt to see the error of their ways. If they are acting on their baser impulses at a younger age, it might indicate that they are less capable of learning from their mistakes. My thinking might be wrong on this, but an older man committing a crime, someone who may have been able to repress his impulses to rape for a number of years might be more apt to process and learn from the punishment than someone already acting out before they are legally considered an adult. I have no resolution to this bit of contemplation, but I would be curious to know what other people think about it. I do think if you’re going to punish them at all, if they are capable of committing “adult” acts of violence, etc… they should probably get an “adults” punishment. I want to think about that a bit more and write about it in depth.

Inspiration…

I want to see Carry Fisher’s one-woman show around her book of memoirs entitled, Wishful Drinking. Absolutely brilliant. Even if it is not absolutely brilliant, the concept alone begs for reverence. I want to bow down to The Princess on one knee and extend a martini to replace the empty one in her hand, on her billboard. Head face down, you can see her Princess Leah buns and I am once and for all in love with Carrie Fisher and her visual and honest artistry. I may never actually get to see the live performance, but one can be wishful about more than drinking. Fortunately, drinking is very accessible, where tickets and lodging in Manhattan are not.

Ruminations…

A fan wrote to me and told me that he was put off to find out, through my website, that I don’t enjoy sex. I did not know I had written such a thing, though I will not say I didn’t, and I promise to really not try and find out because I’m lazy, but it’s not true! I do and did enjoy sex, just not the way some enjoy sex. My friend, Chloe, is the kind of woman who pioneered extreme, eyes-rolling-in-the-back-of-the-head, out-of-body-experience sex, and I can appreciate that some people get lost in their feelings and the sensations of friction between genital parts. My approach to sex mirrors who I am, as a person. I am cerebral. What made me happy doing scenes was engaging my scene partner through being very aware of that person(s) and everything going on. In fact, the only few bad experiences for me happened when my scene partner wasn’t mentally present. Fact is, if I had gone on to do scenes longer I would have probably made the jump into bondage, as a dominatrix. It requires mental presence. But, I knew that and I also know that I am too gentle for that, and got out of performing right when I wanted to. I hope no one out there thinks that I didn’t enjoy my scenes just because I didn’t engage in bitch-slap scenarios with spitting and whatnot. I don’t understand the thinking that there is only one linear way of enjoying sex. It takes all kinds, and I do and always have enjoyed the pleasure of human contact… albeit, as a happy, smiling and good-time Texas gal. No choking and no hair-pulling, unless you want a finger implanted into your eye socket, thank you, kindly. 😀

Shit, Piss, Dicks, Tits and Elderberry Jelly!

Last night I got into a car accident – no one was hurt – but it was weird. It was a four-car pileup in Chatsworth, i.e., Hell. You know, where everyone drives around with fish and Jesus paraphernalia all over their transportation receptacles. (I lived in Chatsworth years ago and I hate it more than unfermented grapes.) Then I went home, crawled into bed, and awoke to my husband on the phone with our landlady’s son, no doubt, threatening to kill us. The man was completely trashed at 7:30am and telling my husband that he would kill us for… suing his family? We’re not suing anyone. Fact is, we have spent the last week avoiding these people altogether because trying to be nice to them will extract the same reaction as trying to put them in their place – a firm kick in the head. Hell, it is quite obvious that one need only leave them alone and even that is just cause for harassment. I don’t have enough to deal with in my grating and strange life and I’m getting death threats for no reason at all? It’s not worth it if I haven’t at least maimed someone! I’d settle for tying someone up and burning “I’m A Waste of Human Space” onto their face with a lit cigarette.” I guess it would have to be a Capri cigarette… to fit all the dots so even a child could read it with little trouble. Oh… my husband has just informed me that the way to do it is to use a razor blade to cut the words into the forehead and then douse the wounds with ink. Hmm… It would take a lot of anesthesia, then. It’s still a lot to write into someone’s face and you don’t want them writhing, lest it not be clean and neat handwriting. Useful information. “Thanks, honey!” I also know how to dispose of a body with a tub of lard, a blanket, lighter fluid and gasoline and some empty warehouse space, preferably out in the middle of nowhere, if anyone is interested… I usually save that infromation for tupperware parties, but I’ll make an exeption here.

What I learned this week…

I wrote last week that it is important to carry a digital recorder around just in case you need to make notes about something and defend yourself in a phone conversation. What I learned this week, after the car accident, is that it’s important to carry around a little portable camera. Most phones conveniently have picture and video-taking capabilities. I was able to jump right out of my vehicle and snap off quite a few pictures of the accident. I always carry a pen and paper, as well, because you never know when you’re going to need to write down information. Incidentally, I carry a large computer bag to fit all the tedious things I like to have at my fingertips, but it’s obviously not for nothing. Now I am waiting for the crazy son of my landlady to approach me one day out in the parking lot so I can turn on my video camera and politely warn him that if he kills me I will be recording it. Of course, if he kills me, he might take said video camera and then it won’t matter. My hope is that, since he is prone to drinking at 7am, he will be drunk and will forget the camera. I cannot fucking believe the week I’ve had…

And finally… a quote:

“I like your Christ, I don’t like your Christians.” – Mahatma Gandhi    …    Amen and Hallelujah to that!

– Julie Meadows