Sunday, March 25, 2018

Truth for Four

Today is March 25, 2018.  Four years ago today was my first day of living my Truth.  I would never again be "Lance."  I began my life as Sophie.

What am I doing today to celebrate?  Nothing.

I've had a bad cold the past few days.  And my roomie/bestie Linda has to be up at 2AM to go to work, so that scrubs any dinner plans, unless I go by myself.

Which I still might.

That means take Linda to work at 4, and my workout is at 6:30.  I can do that.

What has four years taught me?  I mean, after all, four years is enough to get a University degree!


Then and Now.  This was also my last day wearing a wig constantly as Sophie.



Four years has taught me who my Friends are.  I mean Really Are.  90% of my friends from my male days are gone.  They just... disappeared.  As expected.  After all, I'm playing for the other team now, right? 

Trans friends have come and gone as well, but I still have a solid core of friends, without whom, I would've been dead long ago.  So blame them that I'm still here bothering you.

Above all, I have had reinforced how truly awful this world can be.  When I transitioned, there was Hope for transgender people.  There were adults in the White House who recognized us as human beings.  We were starting to win against the forces of Hate.

That has all changed.  Hate has swept into all nooks of American government.  To uproot it will cost lives.  I have said this many times- I will not survive this regime.  They will come for me.  I hope that my country survives it.  I have my doubts.

Today, as I have the past few days, I feel sick as a dog.  Nasty cold?  Flu?  No idea.  But right now, I feel very down.  All I want to do is nap.  I may still go out later, but not right now. 

Maybe I'll feel better later, after a nap.

Be well.





Men of the Skull Chapter 18: Lil' Sister Happies

I mentioned "little sisters" in an earlier chapter.  Skull had a Little Sister program, but it wasn't as active as the Crow little sisters.  They were like a sorority that didn't get to choose its own members (the brothers did that.)  Some of them were best friends, while others just flat out didn't get along.

Just like any organization, really.

That said, I know of no other Little Sister organization which held gatherings for themselves.  I still think that was cool.

This was the first time I'd heard anyone have a negative opinion of Skull, and, as the only Skull in attendance, I felt I had to defend my House. It was a bit of a helpless feeling, as I was taking heat for something I had nothing to do with, but that was a familiar feeling as well.  I'd been doing that my whole life.

Looking back now, all these years later, I remember how comfortable I felt there.  I was an intruder in this party in so many ways- wrong gender, wrong fraternity.  Yet I felt at ease.  Maybe it was my Inner Truth asserting itself a little.  I don't know.

I coached the Crow team the following fall.  They made it to the finals and lost- barely.  But it was fair.



Me, coaching the Crow Little Sisters at Chug Offs, Skullympics '87



************************************************************************


Chapter 18: Lil’ Sister Happies

Friday, October 24, 1986 Roofers Union Leaders, 2 Judges Indicted in U.S. Bribery Probe

            I was invited to an “exclusive” party by Judy and Virginia: “Lil’ Sister Happies.”  That was where all the little sisters of AXP would get together and drink, talk, and bond.  I think it was “attendance mandatory.”  Great idea on paper.  I wonder if their brothers realized what and who they talked about.  “Lil’ Sister Bitch session” would have been a far more accurate name.
            I didn’t know all that at the time.  All I knew was that I was going to be the only guy in a party full of women and that Judy wanted me there.  Good enough for me!
            The party was held in someone’s room in Cedarbrook Apartments, right next to Beaver Hill.  I wore nice pants and the purple and black plaid shirt that Julianne gave me.  I wanted to look as good as I could for the ladies.
            Judy and Virginia stopped at my place to “pick me up.”  Judy wore a blue sweater over an oxford while Virginia wore a nice navy and red outfit. 
            “Remember to be nice, Lance.  We will out number you there,” Virginia said.
            “When am I not the picture of manners and civility?”  I said.
            Both of them laughed.

            The room was dark when we arrived, lit only by a few candles and the streetlights outside through the windows.  The sisters were sitting and laying everywhere.  I think there were around twenty but from what I overheard not all of them showed.

From the Daily Collegian, Oct 24, 1986

            We were greeted at the door by Doreen.  She had shoulder length brown hair and she was heavy.  Chubby.  Her face was very round and she had small eyes spaced far apart and her lips pursed constantly.  She had an attitude as well:  “Tough girl.”  Yeah, no shit.  Fuck with her and she’d sit on you.  She dated one of the Crow brothers.
            There were several cases of beer and I was invited to help myself.  Some beer was on ice in the kitchen sink.  I grabbed four: Judy, Virginia, Doreen, and myself.
            I was next introduced to bleach blonde that looked like a biker chick: Mandy.  She wore leather, had hard black lined eyes, and the attitude.  She was a party girl, no doubt.  She was also Virginia’s best friend.  Mandy was barrel shaped with a nice enough chest very sneaky smile that said “you’re in trouble.”  I immediately liked her. 
            Terri was a hot little Pilipino girl.  She dated a brother and if you weren’t a Crow brother she wanted nothing to do with you.  She shot me nasty looks the entire time I knew her.
            Heidi was tall: maybe six foot with an incredible body and a sweet face.  She had auburn poofy hair that went below her shoulders.  She also dated a brother, damnit!  She seemed like the loving type who would be a good mom by day and a wildcat at night in bed.  She had a great smile too. 




No less than SIX Skulls were in Jack Harper's Sweater Crew that year 

            There were so many others but they don’t matter.  Well, not now.
            So I sat on the floor with Virginia, Mandy and Heidi.  Judy and Doreen went into the bedroom to talk about something privately. 
            “So, you’re a Skull?”  Mandy said.
            “Yes” I said.
            “You don’t look like an asshole!” she said, then laughed, as did several sisters.
            “Give him a chance, Mandy!  He’s an asshole!”  Virginia said.
            “Thanks for the support,” I said.
            “Sorry dear,” Virginia said, smiling.
            “If I’m such an ass, why am I here with all you beautiful ladies?”  I said.
            “Maybe so we can tear you limb from limb?”  Mandy said.
            “Or at least get you drunk, strip you and leave you on the Campus Loop,” Heidi said.
            “You guys fucked us over at your Skullympics, and our coach didn’t even stand up for us!” Mandy said.
            Skullympics is our house philanthropy.  I’ll fill in the details later.
            “I’m sorry.  Who was your coach?”  I said.
            “He was very tall with a crew cut and a big gut,” Heidi said. 
            “That sounds like Beef,” I said.
            “Yes!  That’s it!  Beef!”  Mandy said, throwing her hands in the air.
            “That’s a strange nickname,” Heidi said.
            “Oh like our guys don’t have strange names?  Like Snake?”  Virginia said.
            “Oh, he’s strange.  He’s reeeeealy strange,” Mandy said.
            Most of the sisters laughed.  Mandy had a brassy loud voice that carried.
            “Why do you call him Snake?”  I said.
            Many sisters laughed again.
            “You tell him, ‘Gin,” Mandy said. 
            “We call him that because he is a snake.  He hits on anything with breasts.  Once he starts hitting on a girl, he doesn’t leave her alone for the rest of the night,” Virginia said.
            “I think he’s laid more of the sisters than they’ll care to admit,” Mandy said.  Some looked away, others blushed.
            “You?”  I said.
            “No.  I’m a fucking virgin!” she said, then laughed.
            “Really?”
            “Yep.  I’m saving it for the right guy, not him,” she said.
            “That’s cool,” I said.
            “’Gin’s fucked him” Mandy said.
            “Lying bitch!”  Virginia said, sitting upright.
            Mandy laughed hard.
            “So what exactly did Skull do to piss you ladies off?”  I said.
            “Our opponents in the chug offs cheated and Beef didn’t stand up for us,” Doreen said, sitting down next to Mandy.  Judy went to another part of the room to talk to someone, but glanced over and smiled.

From the Daily Collegian, Oct 24, 1986  The BEST pizza at Penn State while I was there

            Chug-offs are kind of different at each school.  At Penn State they are also called canoe races.  You get four or five people per side of a table.  Each has a beer (sometimes two).  Starting at one end of the table, the person chugs.  When the person indicates they are done, usually by slamming the cup on the table or holding it upside down over their head, the next person goes.  It’s a chugging relay race.  It goes until the last person finishes.  Winner!  Now if people have two beers, that last person chugs two straight, then it comes back the opposite direction:  An “up and back” relay.  Skullympics was one beer each, as it was a multiple heat contest.
            “How do you cheat in a chug off?”  I said.
            “You flick the foam off, put fingers in the beer to warm it- lots of stuff,” Doreen said.  “Beef saw it, but he didn’t care.”
            “So all Skulls are assholes because of this?”  I said.
            “Yes!  Well, no, but we’re not going to do it next year because you guys just don’t care,” Doreen said.
            “I can’t say what did or didn’t happen…”
            “Don’t make excuses for your brothers.  They fuckin’ suck!”  Mandy said, then laughed.
            “As I started to say, I can’t say what did or didn’t happen because I wasn’t there.  I was home that weekend.”
            “Your brothers wanted the Acacia girls to win so they could fuck them,” Virginia said.
            “That’s possible.  I mean, you ladies are far more moral and would never have a one night stand,” I said.  I don’t think I could’ve been more sarcastic. 
            The girls all laughed.
            “Well, tell you what.  If you want, next year ask for me as your coach.  I’ll fight for you,” I said.
            Heidi smiled.  “That’s very sweet of you, but what if you’re an asshole too?” she said.
            “He is, trust me,” Virginia said.
            “Thanks,” I said.
            “Anytime, dear.”
            “I can’t be too bad.  I mean, I’m here, right?”
            “He’s got a point.  Why are you here?”  Doreen said.
            “Judy and I want to get him drunk and take advantage of him,” Virginia said.
            “What about Rich?”  Heidi said.
            Judy looked over.
            “Oh well!  More for me!”  Virginia said, and toasted with Mandy.
            Doreen stood and got beers for us all, and we started playing drinking games.  Judy never came very close to me the entire night, but she couldn’t could she?  I mean, not and maintain our little illusion.


Sunday, March 18, 2018

My Rabbit

I wrote this as a writing challenge.  "Write about your first car- what was it and how did it drive?  350 words minimum."


***********************************


            My first car was a 1975 Volkswagen Rabbit.  It had a five speed manual transmission, and was painted a faded avocado color (puke green.)  Seriously. 

I bought it in June 1985.  The engine sputtered a little, and it had an oil leak, but it ran, and the price was right: $500.  I bought it with money borrowed from my dad against the money I’d make from painting my then girlfriend’s parents’ house.  It had a couple of rust spots, and bumper stickers saying “This car climbed Mount Washington” and “South of the Border” when I got it.  I tore those off immediately.


Picture taken during a snowstorm. December 1986

It ran rough, and always smelled like burning oil.  I had to put at least a quart of oil in it every week, but, as it was good on gas, I didn’t mind.  As with all VW cars of the time, the engine made noise when driving- like a big lawnmower.  What I didn’t know at the time was that 1975 was the first year the Rabbit was produced, and it had a reputation as having a bad transmission.

I found out how bad on August 14, 1985: the day of the Bruce Springsteen concert at Veterans Stadium.  The ramp from 202 to the Schuylkill Expressway was under construction then, and was surrounded by concrete barrier, narrowing the roadway as I drove through the construction zone.  The Rabbit stalled in the middle of bumper to bumper traffic.  And it wouldn’t re-start.  The cars behind mine started honking their horns.  I was getting frantic.  My girlfriend of the time and I pushed the car twenty or so feet until it was off the exit ramp and into the construction zone itself.  The transmission was dead.  Fortunately, friends of mine saw us, were also going to the show, and gave us a ride to and from the event.  A refurbished transmission cost $1200, and they put it in backwards.  Cost another $500 to get that fixed.  So much for my painting and co-op money!



The only other notable thing about that car was that its backseat was where I lost my virginity in August 1985.  Tight quarters, but we made it happen.  I was only 5’6” back then and she was very flexible.  I know- too much information.

The Rabbit met its end in January 1987, while I was at my second semester at Penn State.  My parents let my brother “borrow” the car while I was at school, and, according to my dad, the front right wheel broke off the axle while my brother was driving it.  As my brother had, and still has, a nasty habit of crashing cars, I don’t think that was the whole story.

In any case, to compensate me, my dad bought me another car: a beige 1977 Ford Mustang II (considered by every car expert to be the WORST car EVER made.)  My brother drove that one into the ground before I graduated college- he called it “Shitty Shitty Bang Bang.”  I nursed it until late 1989, when it finally died.


Car pics taken from my scrapbook of the time.






Friday, March 16, 2018

So It Begins

Before the election, my conservative friends and readers accused me of being too liberal and paranoid about what a Trump administration would do to transgender Americans.  After all, his running mate was Mike Pence, whose pathological hatred of LGBT is well documented.  (I heard a comedian say that "Pence is so far in the closet, he's giving blowjobs in Narnia.")

Please note, that almost all the links here are from well known, Pulitzer Prize winning sources (one is blog.)  Or in GOP speak: "Fake news."


Source:  UCLA Daily Bruin  5/11/16


Secretary of State Rex Tillerson was fired by tweet.  You remember him- CEO of Exxon who had no prior government experience.  I'll bet Exxon made out like a bandit!

In any case, Mike Pompeo, current head of the CIA, has been named as his successor.  "So what?" you say?  Pompeo also has a well documented hatred for LGBT.

Sarah Margon, the Washington director of Human Rights Watch (HRW), an international civil rights group, said there is "great reason to be concerned" about Pompeo's past record on LGBTQ issues.

"There could be some very serious consequences both here in the U.S. and also around the globe," she said. "Tillerson didn't really go after the LGBT portion of foreign policy. Now you're going to see someone who, if confirmed, is explicitly anti-LGBT, and I think you're going to see reversals in policy. It's very dangerous." (source above)

Pompeo is in the pocket of the Family Research Council, an SPLC "Hate Group" dedicated to the eradication of LGBT people's rights, if not the people.

How nasty could it be?

Brynn Tannehill, a respected journalist who is also trans and who has connections in DC wrote the following on Facialbook:

This has been rumored for months. It's also devastating news for transgender people in the US. Mike Pompeo is strongly aligned with the Family Research Council. One of the top goals of the FRC is preventing transgender people from getting government ID with accurate gender markers.

I have confirmed with contacts at State that they can, and do, know how to track which people have changed their passport gender markers in the past. At a minimum, I expect the current passport gender marker policy to be done away with in the next year. At worst, they are perfectly capable of revoking the passports of transgender people in the US who have changed their gender markers.

If Pompeo moves to do the latter, run.  Just, get out, there's nothing left to save.

On October 5, 1938, the Reich Interior Ministry revoked the passports of all German Jews.


Add to this, the Attorney General, Jeff Sessions said that communities should pursue "involuntary commitment for people who suffer from mental illnesses as a crime-fighting tool."  That means they throw you into a hole somewhere until they deem you sane again.   Both Sessions AND Pompeo have said that LGBT people are mentally ill.

Oh, and the new head of the CIA is Gina Haspel, who played a major role in the CIA's torture program.


Children wearing concentration camp uniforms shortly after the liberation of Auschwitz by the Soviet army on 27 January 1945. Photograph: SUB/AP



Lots of dots there.  I'll connect them for you in a possible (probable?) scenario.

So.  Passports revoked.  LGBT "involuntary committed" to places where they can be legally tortured ("Conversion therapy" camps) before being disposed of at the convenience of the GOP.

The only question is, will we be rounded up before or after Latinos?  Of wait, there are Latino camps already.

When the Nazis started the roundups, the first to go were "Political prisoners:" intellectuals, teachers, "gypsies" (people of darker skin, usually slavic,) other liberals, and LGBT.  It was these people who built the camps.  There were few survivors.

Given the GOP's support of the Nazis, tacit approval of racism, and their hatred of LGBT here in the US, it's only a matter of time.

Essential to the intimidating effects of the terror was the willingness of many German citizens (whether out of conviction, greed, envy, or vengeance) to denounce their fellow citizens, Jewish and non-Jewish, to the police. The Gestapo could not have exercised such control over German society without the benefit of this steady stream of denunciations, many of which were entirely unfounded.  (source)

And

The pink triangle designated homosexuals in the camps where, with characteristic German thoroughness, each category of inmate had his or her own symbol. Persecution began right from 1933, under the infamous Paragraph 175 of the legal code, which had been little enforced until Hitler came to power. All it took was a lingering look, a pick-up in a bar or a history in the police files... Lesbianism wasn’t on the Nazi statute books: Kinder, K├╝che, Kirche (children, kitchen, church) was felt to be enough to keep wayward women in line. In all, 50,000 homosexuals were officially sentenced and between 5,000 and 15,000 were sent to concentration camps where the death rate was as high as 60%.  (Source)
Concentration camp identification: Homosexual (ibid)



So.  Who will help?  Will there be sanctuary in churches?  Maybe some, but certainly not in the "evangelical" churches- they'll be eager to turn in the "abominations." I assume homeless shelters will be scoured as well.  Any bets on how much the bounty will be on any LGBT person, especially of color?

We live in Dangerous times, dear reader.  For LGBT, for the American Experiment, and for the World.  If the US can be plunged into fascism, it's possible anywhere in the world.

Who will stand against it?

I have written many times that I don't expect to survive a 45 presidency- that I will be killed.  I see that coming true.  But I will stand, and I will fight.  Maybe by my fighting, someone else will be able to escape.

Be Well.





Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Men of the Skull Chapter 17: "Surprise!"

Ahhh lamour!

Sometimes it strikes when you least expect it!  And sometimes you're too stupid to see it when it's right in front of you.

I've always had that problem- not seeing what's in front of me, romance-wise.  Or seeing it and not believing it.  It was the story of my dating life.  At my 30 year high school reunion, three different girls told me that they had crushes on me back in school.  I never knew it.  I would've dated ANY of them.  Of course, when they told me, I was wearing a polka dot dress.


Night of the 30th Reunion: November 2014

You see, I hated myself- deeply and desperately.  I knew I was different, and I knew other people back in the 80s would shun me if they knew... if they knew I was really a girl inside a boy.  I swore no one would ever know, so I built walls around myself.  I wouldn't let ANYONE close.  Problem with walls is they isolate.  I was desperately lonely.

The line I heard most through my dating years was "I don't see you as a guy.  I see you as a friend."  Of course, I didn't WANT to be "friends"- I wanted to be a lover.  The women were very perceptive though- I wasn't a guy.  I was pretending.  Trying my best to live up to what was expected of a Man in the 80s.  Especially a Skull.

The girl in this chapter (I won't give it away) knew exactly what she was doing.  She knew how to flirt.  Guys don't learn that skill.  In fact, guys don't talk about such matters except in the crudest terms.  "Yeah, I banged her."  I always wondered if girls growing up discussed the art of flirting.  During sleepovers or whatever.  That's one thing that I, as a mid-life transitioned transwoman, will never know or experience.

I haven't dated as a woman (I'm still married,) and I have NO clue how to flirt.  That brings up a point about being trans.  Some people think that transpeople are just "super- gay."  Not so.  Sexuality and gender are two different things.  Sexuality is who you want to have sex with- Gender is who you want to have sex as.  Before transition, I was heterosexual.  Since transition, I'm not.  My preference hasn't changed; just my gender has been corrected.

In any case, this was a major event in my college years.  I explore why as the book goes on.

*********************************************************************


Chapter 17: Surprise!

Tuesday, October 21, 1986 Crash kills head of Mozambique

            “She’s not into me” I said.
            Judy and I were walking back from the library to her place.  The leaves crunched and floated through the cool autumn afternoon. 
            “Just because you didn’t get a goodbye kiss doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you.  Perhaps she’s shy.  You told me she’s very religious- maybe that’s a reason” Judy said. 
            “She’s Christian, not a nun!  No, I think she just wants to be friends” I said.
            “What’s wrong with friends?” she asked, looking up at me.
            “Nothing!  I mean…”
            Judy smiled at me.
            “Oh, you know!  I’m tired of being ‘just a friend.’  I’m always ‘just a friend.’  I wish I someone was interested in more” I said.
            We walked for a minute in silence.
            “So you never told me about your weekend.  How did it go?”  I asked.


From the Daily Collegian, Oct 21, 1986.  I always wondered if anyone actually met from the Personals

            She unlocked her apartment door and we walked in.  The room was getting dark as the sun set.
            “Where’s Virginia?”  I asked, looking around.
            “She’s at class.  Why?  Would you rather see her than me?”  Judy said while we took off our coats.
            “No, I was just wondering” I said.
            “Lance, you look depressed.  What’s wrong?”
            “Nothing really.”
            “Don’t try to kid me.  Here, sit down” she said.  I sat on the edge of the couch and she sat down next to me, to my right.  She put her hand on my thigh.
            “Now” she said, “what’s bothering you?”
            I looked at her.  Judy was wearing jeans and a heavy grey sweater over a white turtleneck.  A small gold charm hung out from the turtleneck.  It was a Hebrew letter, but it looked like Pi to me.
            Did I really want to tell her?  Leave myself open?  Sound like I’m whining?
            “It’s like I said.  I don’t know anyone that’s interested in me.  I have a lot of female friends, but they’re just friends.  I don’t dare try for anything more because I don’t want to risk the friendship.”
            “I can’t believe you think that” she said.
            “It’s true” I said.
            “You’re just not looking hard enough.”
            “You know something I don’t?”
            “I think you’re not looking hard enough.”
            “Well I don’t know anyone at all who’s interested!”
            “Oh come on!”  Judy sounded a little frustrated.
            “You know someone who’s interested.”
            “Well… yes.”
            “Who?”

            “Me” she almost whispered.
           
            Wow.  I thought she was going to mention one of the other Crow little sisters or maybe Virginia.  But Judy?  A dream come true!
            “But you already have a boyfriend.”
            “Are you interested in me?  She asked.
            “Yes!” 
Way to be over-enthusiastic, dork!
            She smiled and we hugged.  Then we looked into each others eyes and kissed.  Tenderly at first, then just a little more passionately.  She allowed me to guide her to her back and we laid on the couch kissing and holding each other.  I ran my fingers through her hair.  The sun was setting and the room kept getting darker.
            We paused.  Judy caressed my cheek.
            “So what are we going to do about it?”  I whispered.
            “I don’t know” she whispered back, and kissed me again.
            I started to work my hand up under her sweater.  We kissed again, deeper.
            “What about Rich?”  I asked.  DUMB!
            She looked down for a moment, then back into my eyes.  “I don’t know.  I love him.  But you…”  She kissed me again, holding onto the back of my head. 
            After a couple of seconds, minutes, who cares, we stopped and looked at each other.  We were both breathing heavily. 
            “Don’t tell Virginia” she said.
            “Why would I want to?” 
            “I don’t know.  She’d tell Richard.  I know it.”
            I was about to ask why when the door lock jiggled and clicked.  We both jumped up, me to the other side of the couch, where I grabbed a book opened it and pretended to read.  Virginia came in and started taking off her Crow jacket. 
            “Hey guys!  What’s up?”  Virginia asked.
            “Oh, nothing.  Just studying.”  I said.  That’s when I noticed the book I was holding was upside down.
            “How was class?”  Judy asked.
            “Ok.  By the way Judy, what are we doing for dinner?”  Virginia said.
            “I don’t know.  We have that huge can of ravioli that’s too much for the two of us.  Lance, do want to stay for dinner?”
            “Sure!  I’ll even make it!”  I said.
            “Ooo!  Ravioli de la Lance!  Should we dress formally?”  Virginia asked, smiling.
            “No.  Come naked” I said.
            “In your dreams” Virginia said.
            “Hey, can’t fault a guy for trying” I said.
           

From the Daily Collegian, Oct 21, 1986
           
I stood in the kitchen watching the ravioli cook in the saucepan.  It was one of those huge buy-it-to-feed-an-army sized cans.  I even set the small table!  Judy walked in and whispered that Virginia was in the bedroom getting changed, and we started kissing aggressively.  She wrapped her arms around my neck and I picked her up off the ground.  I put her back down and she smiled.  Then we heard Virginia coming, so she went over the table and re-set it a different way.
            “Oh, my way wasn’t good enough?”  I asked.
            “Judy is very set in her ways” Virginia said, walking into the kitchen.
            “I am not!  I just prefer the fork and knife on opposite sides of the plate” Judy said.
            “He had them both on the same side?  Who taught you to set a table?”  Virginia asked smiling.
            “The same person who taught me to open a can of ravioli: no one.  I just made it up as I went along” I said.


            “That was a great dinner, Chef Lance!  Thanks!”  Virginia said, chewing.
            “Don’t eat with your mouth full” I said, also chewing.
            “You’re one to talk!”  Judy said, smiling.
            “I don’t eat with my mouth full” Virginia said.
            “You don’t eat with your mouth full?”  I asked.
            “Jerk.  I mean I don’t speak with my mouth full” Virginia said.
            Judy laughed.  “At least she uses proper grammar” she said.
            “I have gooder grammar than either of you!  I’m gonna teach English!”  I said proudly.
            “Whatever.  I have to go study at the library tonight.  What are we doing later, if anything?”  Virginia asked.
            Judy looked at me.  “I have some homework to do- some reading and an outline.  What about you?”
            “I have some chapters to read and I should start studying for my Medieval History test Friday.  How about when you get back from the library, you guys call me and we’ll do some drinking.  I’d like to see you two drunk again.  You’re funny!”
            Virginia laughed.  “You just want to be attacked by two drunk women!”
            Judy laughed as I threw up my arms in mock disgust.  “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”  I said.  “Oh well.”
            Virginia helped clean up, then headed out for the library.  As I didn’t have my books, I walked with her as far as Beaver Hill, grabbed the books I needed, and headed right back down to their apartment.


From the Daily Collegian, Oct 21, 1986

            As soon as the door closed behind me, we started making out.  A moment or ten later, I backed away to take off my coat.  Judy walked into the living room, where, on the floor, her books were spread out as well as a couple of pillows from the couch.  She had taken off her gray sweater, leaving the white turtleneck.
            I followed her into the room sat on the couch and pulled out my medieval history book. 
            “How much do you have to do?”  I asked her.
            “Not too much.”
            “Why don’t we do homework for a while, then take a study break?”
            “Reading this stuff is hard.  I may need some moral support.”  Judy said, sitting next to me.
            “Like what?”  I whispered.
            Our lips touched delicately- softly.  We kissed slowly, quietly.  This time I was on my back.  As we kissed, she ran her fingers through my hair.  I massaged her back at first, slowly working around to her breasts. 
            Remember, at the time all the girls I’d been with had fairly small ones.  This was my first time really feeling a girl with big breasts.  I was fascinated and absolutely enthralled.  I couldn’t believe she was letting me do this.  She moaned quietly.  I was in Heaven. 
            After a few minutes, I started trying to remove her turtleneck.  Judy pulled herself away, readjusted her top, and lay on the floor.
            “Study time!” she chirped, smiling playfully.  She was right- we both needed to get work done.  There would be other times- this was only beginning.  Hopefully.
            Maybe ten minutes later, the door handle rattled and Virginia came in. 
            “You guys are sure quiet!” she said, taking off her coat.
            “That’s not true- I can hear Judy’s lips move as she reads” I said.
            “Very funny” Judy said, then she threw a pillow at me.  “You’re back early, Virginia.”
            “I got bored, and the library was packed.  You guys feel like doing anything?”
            “If you two wanna study, I can leave or find something to do” I said.
            “Oh yes!  You’re such a distraction!  I can hardly keep my hands off of you!”  Virginia said dramatically.  Judy rolled her eyes.
           
We studied for a while, then broke out the bottles of schnapps and rum that they had from homecoming weekend.


Next Entry

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Men of the Skull Chapters 15 & 16: "The Rules" and "Typical Day"

These are two short chapters which if this were published, would be cut.  The idea was "completeness."  Chapter 15 would be worked into other parts, but 16 would just go bye bye.  I could work in a couple of details to other chapters.

The reason I'm posting them here, aside from "you get to see it all" is because I'm interested to hear if, when you played drinking games in college (assuming you did) or where ever, if you used similar rules, different rules, or any rules at all.  The drinking game rules seemed fairly consistent across the fraternities and apartment parties I attended during my time.  I mention drinking game rules in an earlier unrelated blog entry as well.


Me and friends doing "popsicle" rule during a drinking game at a party.  2004


I mention the "It rule."  This references an earlier chapter, from when I pledged.  To quote:

We were no longer people, so we couldn’t refer to ourselves with any pronoun except as “IT”.  In fact, the long “I” sound was not to be uttered.  Any word that contained it would have that sound replaced by "it."  

We no longer had names- we had numbers.  I was number five, I mean f(it)ve.  

One of the few pledge brothers I am still in touch with was "four."  I still call him that occasionally, and he calls me "Fitve."  (Fit-vee)

The dates I put on these entries were just dates between other chapters, and are not significant.

Just the thought of how much I drank in college... wow.  Since my DUI in 2012, I've cut back to almost nothing.


************************************************


Chapter 15: The Rules

Sunday, October 19, 1986 Battered by rebellious aide, Aquino’s coalition totters

            Played a lot of drinking games in college, and that meant following a lot of rules.  Figured I’d explain them to you so you don’t get nailed and have to consume.

            There were three major rules for drinking games at Penn State:
  • No using the words “drink,” “drank,” or “drunk.”  (“Consume” was the most popular alternative, though “imbibe” showed up occasionally as well.)
  • No using proper names.  If you used the same nickname three times, it counted as a name.
  • No pointing.  Just like at Drexel, using an elbow was acceptable.

            At many parties, these rules were assumed to be in play.  When Dave and I played, even to this day, we declare them as “standard.”  That means when you get to make a rule, you say standard rules and all three are in effect.


From Oct 20, 1986 Daily Collegian

            Every house had its own pet rules.  At Skull, we had one standing rule:  Bull Moose- Never consume with your right hand.  It was always in effect.  One time Brother Trips made a pitcher of gin and tonics for some people at a formal, sipped it right handed, and was bull moosed.  The penalty for being caught?  Chug whatever it is you’re drinking.  And Brother Trips did it too.  (That was the end of the party for him, though.)  It was many years after college before I would consider drinking right handed, and years after that before I was comfortable doing it.
            One rule I called a lot was the “it” rule.  The long “I” sound was illegal- instead the player must say “it.”  Sound familiar?  Yeah, pledging was good for something.  I never had a problem with this rule.  Go figure.  Everyone else struggled with it.
            Other rules were fairly common, like “no cursing.”  Some were aimed at certain goals, like “For every queen dealt, girls lose a piece of clothing.”  There were toasts, taps, tinks, clinks, and howls.
            The usual penalty for fucking up a rule was a drink, however that was measured where you were.  It was usually a mouthful though.  If beer was in short supply, it was a sip.  It was never good for a guy to sip though- ever.
            I was quite a stickler for the rules, because I wanted the people around me drunk.  I guess it made me feel superior, I don’t know.  In any case, I knew the rules and I rarely fucked up.  I was probably not much fun when I got on a tear, but that’s life in the big city, right?


Chapter 16: Typical Fall 1986

Monday, October 20, 1986 Soviets oust 5 American diplomats

            A typical day started waking up way too fucking early to make an eight o’clock class.  I’m not a morning person so that was really hard.  If I was drinking the night before, pretty much forget it.  Class from 8AM-10AM, then I went to the house for lunch.
            Most days, I’d go from lunch to work at BK and work like 12-3 or something.  I’d then go home and shower the smell of pickles off me.  That was the strongest smell there- not grease, not onions, but pickles. 




From Oct 20, 1986 Daily Collegian.  I LOVED the Lasagna Shop

            Then off to class, then a half hour, then some days to a late class.  If no late class, then I had dinner at the house.  As time went on, I’d more often eat with Judy and Virginia.
            Thursdays were parties at the house.  Saturdays were football and parties.  Sundays were watching football on TV and homework.  It was all fairly regular. 
I tried not to cut classes because after all I was paying for all this.  If I had to cut a class, it was either the eight AM any given day or the five o clock Friday one.  I didn’t realize how cutting the five o’clock one would fuck things up.  I learned the hard way.