During the summer between ninth and tenth grade, in July of 1997, Danielle's parents very generously allowed me to spend the week with them in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We spent seven days in this beautiful, enormous oceanfront home and I never wanted to leave. Danielle and I shared the bedroom on the bottom floor. It had sliding glass doors that led to a screened-in patio, and we spent most of our time lounging together on the hammock there.

One morning her mother called down to us that there were dolphins in the water, and you could see them from the upstairs balcony. We rushed up with cameras, I reached the balcony first and Danielle snapped this picture in the sun. Her mom was right, there were in fact three tiny dolphins playing and jumping around in the water close to the shore. We watched them for as long as they stayed, though eventually they returned home. At night we would stay up til two or three a.m. talking and laughing. I was writing a story at the time, in a blue spiral-bound notebook that I still have. I did most of the writing as we swung slowly together in the hammock, and Danielle would encourage me to read the parts I had just written aloud to her.

We were fifteen and we knew we probably shouldn't leave the house alone, but Cheryl had never explicitly stated as such, so one restless night we decided to sneak out and go for a walk on the beach. I still have the note we left behind on our nightstand in case her parents wandered downstairs and we weren't there. Went for a walk on the beach together. Be back soon. <3 Jac + Dan We took the private path to the ocean and spent an hour in the dark sand. At some point that week Danielle's father, Ken, was gracious enough to pay the obscene fee, for both of us, so that we could go parasailing together. The guy driving the boat took us soaring, then dipped us low into the water so our toes could touch the sea. We went jetskiing as well, again thanks to the extreme generosity of Cheryl and Ken. I was too afraid to steer but Danielle was fearless. She took control, zipping through the choppy waves of the bay and daring towards the ocean while I wrapped my arms around her and hung on for dear life. The rocking waves mixed with the hot summer sun had a soothing effect on me, and eventually I fell asleep with my cheek on her back.

I'm struggling for more memories of those days. We rented bikes and rode in the shade, went shopping with her family, played Monopoly with her younger sister Lynda, but what else? What did we say to each other, what made us laugh, what kept us up past midnight and how did we spend the eight hour car ride to and from the beach house? I know there was more. I know one day we were in the upstairs portion of the house, the main area that consisted of the living room with the balcony where we saw the dolphins. There was a smaller TV room up there that was full of books. We started glancing at the titles and I came across Jonathan Livingston Seagull. "Hey," I said. "Have you ever read this book?" Danielle said that she hadn't; neither had I, but I recognized the title. "It was one of my mom's favorites growing up," I explained. "She said it was the first time anyone had told her she could be whoever she wanted." We sat on the floor and read it together then, and read it again several times each before we had to leave later that week.

If there's ever been a synchronicity in my life, it's the one I'm about to tell you. Yesterday afternoon, my Danielle and I passed by an antiques market on our way home from New Hope and decided to stop in. It was like an indoor flea market, but most of the stores had already closed for the day. Upstairs a lady was selling books and children's toys from as far back as the 1930s. Everything was piled together and we had to dig to get through most of the books. I was looking for something that would make for good art journaling when I pushed aside some dolls and uncovered the same slim, dark blue volume I had seen in North Carolina. Jonathan Livingston Seagull. At the time, I didn't associate it with Danielle and the house in NC, I just bought it because I remembered always wanting to own it. It wasn't until this morning, when I was looking through the spiral-bound notebook that still holds the story I was feverishly writing while swaying in the hammock and the note about going for a walk together on the beach, that a loose sheet of paper fell from between the pages. I recognized Danielle's distinct handwriting immediately.

It was a drawing she had done, replicating the cover of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, the seagull gliding through the deep blue sky. Next to it she had written in capital letters her favorite quote from the book:

"You have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now. And nothing can stand in your way."

Tags: danielle babo, memories

I only remember a few stories from it.

One, which I believe had something to do with the title of the book itself, involved a girl(?) who built a model of the solar system and watched Mars eating pomegranate seeds. Yeah.

Another was a guy who accidentally picked up an alien suitcase and started growing another arm.

Another was about time travel and something called the Burgess Shale. Don't exactly remember what but it involved trilobites.

Another was a couple of kids on vacation and the little brother...turned into a tornado? Fuzzy on that.

Any help would be appreciated, it's been driving me nuts.

[20] The L Word Icons

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Just wondering - have any of you ladies noticed that when you sleep with a woman who's significantly taller than you, she automatically starts playing the more dominant role (more or less).. ? I'm pretty average in height at 5'6", but I've noticed that of all the ladies I've been with who are more than 4-5 inches taller, they start taking the dominant role in bed and in relationships. It's made me feel more attracted to taller women now, since I really like the feeling of being treated and protected. In general have you guys noticed this same trend? When you're in a relationship with someone significantly shorter, do you find yourself tending to wear the pants of the relationship, so to speak? It's really interesting, but maybe my situation is a coincidence.

http://tarhearted.typepad.com/my_weblog/2008/05/faggot.html

It's a beautiful New York day so The Boyfriend and I decided to attend our annual block party. Grand Street is a lovely area of Williamsburg full of restaurants, art galleries and independent boutiques and every year they close it off to traffic so that bands can play in the street as people peruse outdoor vendors. We were a little early and not too much was happening so we decided to walk up to McCarren Park.

There was a lot going on; sun bathers, kite fliers, and for some reason a kid's marching band. We had stopped at a gallery on the way where we struck up a nice conversation with the woman who worked there, and The Boyfriend commented on how everybody in the neighborhood was being unusually friendly. It was true. Williamsburg did seem unusually low on pretense.

And then we saw them.

There was a grandpa in jean shorts, a bulldog looking father, and a filthy little kid. The bulldog looking father was shouting at a hipster girl on a bicycle in thick Brooklynese.

"Don't get in my fucking way! I'm from New York fucking City, bitch!"

As far as I could tell the girl had simply ridden past them, but these things happen. As much as I'd like to pretend otherwise, I am part of the population that gentrified Williamsburg and took it from people like this family. I understand their frustration, as now the neighborhood is being taken from me by rich people with condos.

Anyway, we rolled our eyes and decided to give them a wide girth. The Boyfriend had to go to the public men's room to pee while I waited outside. Annoyingly, grandpa in jean shorts had to go as well. He came out just before The Boyfriend and did a charming impression as he walked down the stone ramp.

"Dis is how faggots and lesbeens come out, " he said as he fluttered down the ramp, adding in his best effete voice, 'do I get an award?" His family laughed as if this was the best impression they'd ever seen. I was less amused. Faggots and lesbians act totally differently, and what's this about awards? They give out awards? I've been overlooked for twenty-seven years!

As The Boyfriend came out to join me and we walked away the entire trashy family shouted as us in Brooklynese; grandpa in jean shorts, bulldog looking father, and filthy child.

"Fucking faggots! Go back to California!" So on and so on. There was also something shouted about pepperoni, but I didn't quite catch it. Folks from Brooklyn love pepperoni.

It was clear that this family had come to the park specifically to spend the day baiting hipsters and faggots and the like. Funny, my family always went to Sears! Anyway, as we walked away The boyfriend was seething with anger for not fighting back. I get his point, but why bother? It didn't really anger me, which was surprising. This sort of thing happens every so often and usually I do feel angry or hurt, but this family was so pitiful it didn't affect me. They are part of a dying breed, and good riddance.

Those who are against gay rights say that we are trying to change their way of life and, at least for my part, that is absolutely true. It is time for people to change. It's time for people to throw out their old fashioned prejudices, their religion based fears, and their hatred of intellectualism. It is tired. Not just in New York, but all over these United States, gay rights is just one part of the move towards what a lot of people, not just fags, are fighting for: sanity.

As for us faggots... we can probably expect a lot more incidents like this in light of the Supreme Court decision in California this week, and that's fine. I quietly smiled to myself today because I know that my time is coming, and sooner rather than later. And when it does the enemies of sanity, equality, art, intellectualism... these folks will all have to shape up or quietly fade away. I know deep inside that we will win, and when we do, girl...

You better work.

xoxo
Joshua Conkel
A Faggot

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 For anyone who is interested or is going, it has just been anounced that Laurel will been joining Jennifer Beals as a guest at the L5 convention this November :)

I for one am sooooo excited about the prospect of both of them being there and I will be down on my knees praying everyday that nothing happens to prevent either of them from being able to make it !

**Runs off very very excited**

Anne Ramsey has also been announced as a further guest

Wow, thanks so much for all the comments on my last post! :D

Here are some more photos, various self-portraits this time. Far from all these are very authentic vintage-looking, but I think and hope they fit the theme enough to be welcome anyway.



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I remember nothing except: at one point, a girl and some friends are jumping up and down, waving their arms and shrieking.

They explain to someone (brother?) that they are playing at being the flying monkeys from "The Wizard of Oz."

FOUND: "The Changeling" by Zilpha Keatley Snyder