Cowgirl Awe

Big storms here late yesterday. Weakened by heat and drought, lots of trees just threw themselves on the ground as soon as the wind picked up.

Starr Ann was saying she should ride over to Ms Jodie Diamond's place, since she's new to this part of the country, and check on her. No need. Right as Starr Ann was saying that, we heard boots on the porch and Jodie Diamond knocked at the front door. You should have seen Starr Ann's face.

To be accurate, it's Professor Jodie Diamond. Professor of American History on sabbatical from some university up in New England.

You wouldn't believe how much you can learn about a woman in the process of killing a bottle of Cuervo Gold. Jodie is our new idol. She left her job and bought that ranch so she'd have the time and a little quiet for recording the atrocities our country is committing around the globe. Recording them in a way that only a historian can.

I'll never forget one part of the conversation. Jodie said, "These cocksucking bastards are rewriting the facts AS THEY HAPPEN! And the bulk of this TV-watching, trans fat-avoiding, SUV-driving society slurp it up like it's the God's honest truth. So what in the fuck do you think the history books are going to read like in ten years?"

Main thing I'm thinking is Jodie doesn't talk like you'd expect a professor to.

Jodie continued. "You saving the rest of that tequila for a special occassion, Margo?"

"Um, sorry. No. Here you go."

Jodie continued again. "On the slim chance there's anything left of America - the America we loved - ten years from now, I'll be ready and waiting with a historical account that isn't overflowing with fear, bullshit and righteousness." She didn't wait for me to pour the next one, and after she threw it back she said, "God damn those motherfuckers for pissing all over my country!"

Jodie Diamond is our new idol.

A Little Look-see

My best friend Starr Ann doesn’t deal well with unsatisfied desire. Never has. She about drove me crazy yesterday, what with her barely talking most of the time (which, in Starr Ann, is not a good indication). Even when I did get a few words out of her, she’d lose the gist of what we were saying and re-route the whole thing back to our new neighbor woman.

I’m already so sick of the name Jodie Diamond I think I’m getting desensitized. Really desensitized - to the point that I didn’t get the radio turned down fast enough yesterday and accidentally heard Condi Rice’s voice and the usual wave of nausea failed to pass over me. Curse Jodie Diamond.

Anyway, early this morning Starr Ann tacked up Oatmeal, her swift trusty stallion, saying it’d be only neighborly to make sure Ms. Diamond was getting along okay.

Have I mentioned Oatmeal yet? Oatmeal is the fastest horse in the barn, but Starr Ann gave him that name and put it in big letters on a nice plaque on his stall door “in case Homeland Security comes and seizes our horses for their own use in a national emergency.” She figures they’ll pass right on by Oatmeal and take the ones with flashier names like Lightning Rod, Glory Hole, and Rock Hard Eleven. When I told Starr Ann she might be confusing the Feds with how the Yankees used to appropriate things during the discourtesies between the states, she just gave me that one look, kissed my cheek, and said she’d always protect me no matter what.

Hankering

My best friend Starr Ann and I were watching Saturday cartoons this morning when she sat forward on her end of the couch and put her bowl on the coffee table. And there was still plenty of cereal left in the bowl! If that fact doesn’t raise a bunch of red flags for you, then you just don’t know Starr Ann and you sure never saw her spoon her way through a box of Froot Loops.

Naturally, I was concerned. In fact, Starr Ann has caused nothing but worry lately. First, she disappeared for three days after hearing about Shrub commuting I Scatface Libby’s (remember him?) sentence. Soon as she got word of that she started in on how this just might set off the Big One. According to Starr Ann, there’s a platoon of rogue CIA operatives (led by beautiful ex-Agent Valerie Plame) who are planning a takeover of the White House. Starr Ann thought it would be best for her and me to go underground until the dust settled. I declined the invitation, and Starr Ann pouted a little bit, like she always does when I’m not paranoid enough for my own good. She got over it, though, and tacked up her trusty stallion, Oatmeal.

Long story short – she was gone for eight days. She showed back up on Thursday and I was so happy and relieved to be sitting there with her watching our cartoons like always, I guess I just didn’t notice there was something eating at her until she put that bowl down and her attention strayed from the TV right as Tweety Pie was about to set Sylvester’s uvula on fire.

Those big brown eyes of Starr Ann’s clouded up and she spilled the whole messy truth. She wants the new neighbor lady who just bought the spread two places over from here. Wants her bad. But if there’s any force stronger in my Starr Ann than the desire for a woman she’s got her heart set on, it’s her unshakable honor. And Starr Ann is absolutely convinced that the terrorists in the Oval Office have her near the top of some hate list and would target Ms. Jodie Diamond (that’s the new neighbor woman) if they got wind of Starr Ann and her “doing the fandango.”

Anyway, I think Starr Ann at least felt better after we talked it out, because she finished her Froot Loop sludge and got real interested when Road Runner came on. In fact, Starr Ann was wearing her Dalmatian PJs and from the corner of my eye I could see some of the dots moving on the front of her pajama bottoms. She paced herself perfectly, too. Her moment arrived just as Coyote accidentally ran over the edge of a cliff. And I tried not to hear, but I’m almost sure she called Jodie Diamond’s name at the very second Coyote splatted against the canyon floor.

Night Visit

My best friend Starr Ann climbed through the window and woke me up last night. She couldn't sleep for thinking about the Logo Presidential Forum we'd streamed earlier.

All while we watched - first Obama, then Edwards, followed by Kucinich, Gravel, Richardson (wonder if he thinks he was born Hispanic, or chose to be that'a way?) and finally the big cleanup by H. R. Clinton - the whole time Starr Ann kept shaking her head and saying, "Something just is NOT right."

First couple of times she said that, I got up and fiddled with the screen angle, thinking she meant she couldn't see it well.

That wasn't the problem. Problem, according to Starr Ann, was that she could feel herself discounting all the upstanding, forthright things Kucinich said as 'nice' but 'nobody cares' so let's move on to the beef. So about halfway through the forum, she calmed down and accepted this sad state of her own mind.

Then that headshaking started up again. Starr Ann said, "No, no, no. It's worse than that." She got quiet again for a while until smack dab in the middle of all us LGBTs getting Hillary'd, Starr Ann turns to me and says, real quiet, like you never want to hear Starr Ann sound, "Margo, we're just like the rest of this country full of K-Mart shoppers. Here we are, arguing our faces off over wanting the right to call ourselves married, practically begging these PROFESSIONAL POLITICIANS to invite, embrace, welcome us into the mainstream. Here we are, in this siloed studio, setting ourselves apart by ignoring all the broader stakes on the table right now, while we pin these suckers to the wall over what they're going to CALL our full rights under the law when we get them. We're setting ourselves apart while pleading to be included."

Starr Ann got up, kissed me on the cheek, took one more look at Hillary sitting there looking very at ease with the gays, and climbed halfway back out the window. Starr Ann paused to mention, "Coulda watched this whole thing and never guessed we're in the middle of a pre-emptive, imperialistic war. Blue Light Special on the LGBT aisle."