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Just a quick note: I am once again simply, justlikejessejames.com (that is to say, no need to type ‘wordpress’ to get here. ) Tis’ all.
Amongst all of the nicknames, cute and not so cute, that Violet has for me, one of the more regular is “good little boyscout.” Now, we all know this can’t be literal as I am not a boy and also, the boy scouts do not permit faggot lesbians to join their little club, but you get the point.
And Violet knows, because of all of my daily woahs, that one of my most frequent heartaches is constantly witnessing situations where I see a human make the conscious choice not to help where clearly help is needed or could be, you know, helpful. It breaks me really, on any level, and it happens a lot.
So anyway, I hate the cold weather but the best thing about the dawning holiday season is watching folks try a little harder to care, to be kind. Whatever the motivation is, I don’t care, I just sleep better watching someone need and someone give, just like that. I was downtown today and saw it a few times. It won’t last, I know that, and I would like to say I am prepared for that, but that isn’t true. Regardless, I will take kindness where and when I can find it, which, amongst all of the things I can’t stand about this time of year, really makes me smile.
There is no official video for this Cher song but this one is a nice collection of things and the song itself is a good one. It’s simple, to the point and it is CHER for gawd sake. She knows what she is talking about.
Hey you! Happy Cherday! Happy Friday-eve.
A phone call yesterday:
::ring ring::
Violet: Oh hi mom and dad.
Dad: Hi Violet. Are you still planning to go on vacation to Mexico to learn Spanish?
Vioet: Um, well yes but probably not until January.
Dad: Well, you know, December is the best time to hike the Grand Canyon.
Violet: Oh. Ok. No, I didn’t know that.
Dad: Ya, it is. There was an article about it in the New York Times today. So, I was thinking, instead of going to Mexico, you and I should hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon together…
Mom: Well Violet, I don’t think you are going to learn a whole lot of Spanish walking the Grand Canyon with your father…
Dad (interrupts): Oh no, a lot of people speak Spanish there.
Violet: Um, wow, ok, well, can I think about it, talk with jesse and see when I might be able to consider this?
Me (whispering in the background while flailing my hands): Go, go go! Oh my lord, Violet, just go!
Dad: Sure, ok. But I have reserved a couple of plane tickets and our stay at the bottom of the canyon for next week. They also provide our food. I ordered you the stew.
She smiled big. She loves stew… and her dad.
How did this end, you ask?
She leaves next Wednesday.
Several years ago now, I was in France visiting Violet. In France a lot of bathrooms have this strange set up where both men and women walk through the same door only to land in this tiny area that serves as a sort of bathroom-purgatory, if you will. This is the place where the sinks, mirrors and towels are. So, both men and women stand there together while waiting to pee or what-have-you. I found that generally to the left is the womens stall and to the right is the mens. So as it goes, we all stand there, men and women together, waiting for our binary gender appropriate door to open and to then be freed to let us in and be relieved.
So I am in France visiting Violet, looking more masculine than feminine (which is not to say that I think I looked more boy than just me but more than not the French thought I was a guy.) She and I are getting lunch at a cute little bistro and I have to pee. I walk into the French bathroom purgatory area and I wait. Both stalls are busy. I am in this bathroom purgatory with one man. As we wait, in walks a woman.
And then there were three.
A thing I noticed about France (this I learned the hard way again and again): Out in public, women don’t tend to smile at folks they don’t know really. And if a man smiles at a women or vice versa it isn’t unfair to assume they might be flirting a little.
So, I’m in France waiting to pee in the bathroom purgatory with both a man and a women. What I have yet to mention is that when the woman walked in I smiled at her which led her to give me a very awkward and blatant scoff as she turned her whole body away from me. So, either she caught that I am just a stoopeed american girl OR I am crammed in a little room and just accidentally said to some random woman, “Oh, oui!? You like my smile, no?! Well zen… hough hough hough! (that is my impression of a french laugh, it offends Violet to no end.) A second later she mumbled something casual sounding to me in french which led me to respond according to her tone, ” Ah, oui.” And I did what I could to not smile.
At this point, speaking almost no french, I had taught myself how to answer a french question or statement with “oui” or “non” simply by interpreting the inflection of the sentence. I was usually pretty good at guessing correctly.
Maybe it was the bathroom purgatory pressure or maybe I was just doomed to do nothing right, but as that woman looked me right in the eyes and said, “vous la pue de la la de dee da fou le gwagh pa nui hough de le sweegh doo!?!” I had NO idea if I should go with “Oui!” or “Aaaaah, non, non, non!” I went with “oui” again, which was clearly the. wrong. answer.
Next thing I knew a man came out of the mens stall, washed his hands and left. Now there was an empty stall for a man with the three of us staring at the door. And then both the man and woman in purgatory with me looked at me wondering what I was going to do… and so did I!
The purgatory man looked at me, opened the stall door, like a man might do when he’s holding a door for a lady and probably wouldn’t do for another dude that needs to pee, and used his other hand to make the motion of “after you.”
At this point I realized how utterly confused our situation was:
The man that was holding the door for me was there first, so even if I was a guy it was his turn. And clearly he knew this and he knew that I knew this and now I had realized that he knew that I was a girl BUT when this other woman entered our bathroom purgatory both the man and I silently agreed that she clearly thought I was a man and totally mistook my smile for a french, “Hey, how yOu doin? Eh?‘” On top of that, the man that was in the purgatory bathroom before me not only got that I was female and that I was being mistaken for male by an uptight french woman who I had unintentionally flirted with and then answered two of her questions incorrectly BUT he knew I needed some help. SO his reaction was to attempt to save me by giving up his spot in line and escort me into the mens room.
Totally confusing, no?
I gave him an “I don’t know about this” look and he smiled at me and I smiled back while reluctantly walking into the stall. And really, that might have been the record holder for “most innocent smile exchange between the sexes in all of French history.” I walked through his held open door, to which the woman thought nothing of and I peed. Finally.
I walked out of the stall and saw the man that had held the door still waiting, the woman that kind of hated me was now in the womens stall. I stopped, smiled, and held open the door to the mens room for him. We both laughed and as he walked through I said quietly, “Mercy” and through a very thick french accent he said, “You are very welcome, madam.”
Ok folks, riddle me this: Who is sweet, funny, talented as all get out, some kind of seriously good looking, goofy, with a big ol’ Broadway voice like nobody’s business, and has a name to match a personality that was born to be a star? (And yes, of course the answer is Cher, but no, not in this particular case) You get three guesses…
Guess #1: Winona Ryder? Not sure about the voice but good guess. I love her and have always imagined that she would play a love interest of mine in my made for TV movie: “The Life And Times Of A Faggot Lesbian Who Stole Nothing But Hearts.” I was going to call it “Going Rogue” but, once again, Sarah beat me to the punch.
Guess #2: Me? Stop! Fair enough, though. I mean, I can see where you are coming from. Good guess, but no.
Guess #3: Haviland Stillwell? Your third guess is Haviland Stillwell?!? Damn you’re good! You are correct! Yes, indeed, Haviland Stillwell, Miss Stillwell, The Haviland, if you will.
I will start by admitting that I just discovered this fabulous woman and can’t get enough. I am a late bloomer in some areas and finding Haviland is one of them.
Ok, so now you are wondering about me, because you care about me and you want to know why I am so excited about Haviland and how I discovered the many talents that are Haviland Stillwell, right? Well, the very shortest version is this:
My second post on going to my old high school’s new GSA club meeting was up for a few days when all of a sudden it got a big ol’ spike in attention (this is in humble blog standards, mind you) and so I checked to see where the traffic was coming from. And to my blushing surprise, my favorite fabulous online magazine, Autostraddle, linked to my post (once again, I am after an article about Sarah P.) Secondly (and this will all come together eventually) I was getting some traffic from a facebook page and I found this odd because I don’t even have a facebook page. So, I clicked on the facebook link only to find a photo of this beautiful woman who had a gazillion and twenty three fans… eh hem, I mean friends and so I emailed her this sheepish email asking her if she might know why folks are landing on my blog via her facebook page. “Have you even heard of my blog?” I wrote, totally confirming that I am absolutely nobody.
Well, well, folks, not only is she beautiful and famous, she was also kind enough to respond. Turns out she had also linked my second GSA post to her facebook page (that too will make more sense in a minute.)
And so, totally flattered and curious, the Haviland Stillwell web stalking began. I spent hours looking things up, and as it should turn out, she is pretty incredible and has done a lot of incredible things. And here is just SOME of what I found:
Not only was she in Les Miserables and Fiddler on the Roof on Broadway… on Broadway, folks. She also has her own concert that she performs, has been dubbed “the modern day Scarlett O’Hara,” sang on the Rosie Cruises with Rosie, and has an escalating TV and film career, with a movie on its way. And apparently she has 42 hour days, and so in her spare time she teaches, consults, and produces. Oh, and did I mention her recent recurring role on the TV show Eastwick?… And for those of you who are not catching on to how this all goes back to Cher, which by now you should realize that everything good in this world will somehow lead back to Cher, in 1987 Cher starred in the movie Witches of Eastwick, and this Eastwick TV show is an adaptation- meaning, it rocks.
So, as you can see Haviland is amazing, Haviland is beautiful, Haviland has some connection to Cher, doubly confirming her fabulousness and Haviland is EVERYWHERE… which is to say that my late discovery of her doubly confirms that my address is in fact, Under A Rock, Seattle, WA.
Ok, back to me for a second (tis my blog after all.) So, my GSA post was linked on Haviland’s facebook page only to find out two more amazing things 1. She just happens to be friends with oh, you know, the woman behind the moment that I realized I was gay, Sophie B. Hawkins, and she sent her my post 2. At one point in time, Miss Haviland Stillwell, being the PL that she is (that’s Power Lesbian, yo), was the president of her high school’s GSA club… that’s right folks- who’s all perked up and paying attention NOW!?!
Wait, what’s that? Oh, you want more Haviland? Ya, well, get in line, sister. Also, you’ve come to the right place. I am going to do an interview with her fabulous self and will be posting that sometime in the near future. So, stay tuned for more of the mighty fabulous Haviland Stillwell on this blog… and everywhere else. (If you have questions for or about Haviland the Fabulous, either leave a comment or send them to my email, jessejamesblog(at)gmail(dot)com, and if the question doesn’t suck I’ll ask her, and if she doesn’t think it sucks, she might just answer… and just remember, there are no stupid questions, unless it is.)
Until I post our interview, here are some of my favorite online Haviland Stillwell finds:
No on Proposition 8: “We don’t like our gay friends, we support gay marriage”
Haviland as Sarah Palin? Really? YES.
Haviland does a Dolly song… sing it girl!
If Cher had even the slightest clue that Thursday was her day according to the queer elliptical spin of jljj world, I am sure she would be proud to share today’s spot with the fabulous Haviland.
Happy Cherday, everyone! Happy friday-eve!
The response to my GSA post- the emails, the comments, the conversations I am having, I couldn’t have imagined. Just by bringing this up, folks, adults, are realizing, reopening, saving, reviewing, repairing their own experiences of growing up queer (or whatever words you use to define yourself) and sharing them with me. Reaching out. Reconciling.
I have received amazing emails and they have meant the world to me. Some younger than me, saying, “I don’t want to do it like you did.” One email in particular (and you will most certainly know who you are) sent me an epic email. An entire chapter of her life in my inbox. The parallels between us made it hard to breathe and made me think to believe, “You don’t have to do it like I did.”
I think most of us have that moment, where you wish you could go back and tell the younger-you something. I had no advice for this girl, except to continue reaching out, which I was most afraid of doing. This epic email was like time travel, where I looked my younger self right in the eyes and said, “To answer your question, jesse, the one that won’t ever let you rest, you are not crazy, you are wonderful, and the dark gets light, I promise.”
How is it that every single high school in this entire country isn’t talking about this? There is not one school, there is not one class in any school, anywhere, without a kid or two or three or four or five or six, that would benefit just by knowing that support was there.
I don’t know if I would have gone to the meetings when I was in high school. I was so afraid of my town and so afraid of myself then. But had this club, a GSA, even existed, like I’ve said, would have saved me from a million demons. Sometimes support is just knowing there is support to be found. In high school I use to tell Marie I felt like the last unicorn. Sophie B Hawkins’ song saved me a bit, from that fear. I believed she meant what she sang. There was certainly nothing to gain from singing *that line back then.
(*I lay by the ocean making love to her with visions clear…)
These kids in this new GSA club in my old highschool, in that small town, sit in a room, once a week, after school and talk to each other. And that might be their only commonality. And it might be there only safe place. And that might be all it takes for some kid, a lot of kids, not to give up, in all of the ways there are to just. give. up.
I gave up. When the rumors started, I looked my best friend right in the eyes, in a hallway in my old high school, with my hands on her shoulders, and said, with all of my might, “I am not gay. It’s all a lie. I promise.” I was trying to save her too. Matthew Shepard haunted me. I had to give up a lot to survive.
I am going to another GSA meeting with my sweet GSA kiddos at my old school this month and will continue to as often as I can. I want to make sure they can see that support is everywhere. I want to make sure these kids, all of them, know they don’t have to do it the way I did. And I will continue to write about here (I promise to write about other things here too, I am well aware that Violet and the Seal are way more popular than I.) Also, I am looking for folks, with stories different from mine, like the fabulous woman who will get Cher’s spot tomorrow… stay tuned.
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