Body Positive Group Munch

Greetings All!

I'm pleased to announce our next Brickhouse Betties Munch to be held at JB's Restaurant @ 7:30, April 1st.
This month’s speaker is the renowned belly dancer Bastet who will be speaking about being fat and body positive through Belly dance.
Bastet is well-known throughout the United States for her dynamic, double fan dances, a whirling fan
technique she began developing nearly 9 years ago and that she continues to develop today, emphasizing 3-dimensional layering of belly dance movements and fan technique, and making her a
much sought-after instructor. More recently, she noticed the similarities between her fan technique
and those of Chinese fan dancers, and now seeks to incorporate Chinese fan and dance technique into
her own repertoire.

Bastet’s style is constantly evolving. Her continuous training in multiple styles of belly dance
including Egyptian Cabaret, Raqs Sharqi, Tribal Fusion, and American and Improvisational Tribal
Style (ATS and ITS), as well as Chinese dance and modern pop-n-lock, open the doorway for exciting
and unusual new forms of fusion. You never know what Bastet will pull out of her hat, but you won’t
be disappointed.

More info on Bastet can be found on her website: bastetfusion.com/
Clips of Bastet’s amazing performance style can be found at:
www.youtube.com/watch
www.youtube.com/watch
www.youtube.com/watch
www.youtube.com/watch


Brickhouse Betties is a fat and body positive group that provides a safe space for fat identified people and their admirers to openly discuss matters of sensual, sexual, and emotional health without fear of judgment.
Brickhouse Betties is a group that is Fat Positive not Skinny Negative and our intention is to focus on the beauty and uniqueness of our bodies without disparaging the uniqueness of others. We at Brickhouse Betties welcome people of all genders and gender expression and are lgbti and leather inclusive. Our Yahoo Group:
groups.yahoo.com/group/Bri...e_Betties/

We hope to see you there!!


The address for JB's Restaurant is:

10300 Hotel Ave NE, Albuquerque, NM‎
(505) 296-6940‎

It's in the Holiday Inn Complex

Post Turkey Day Fat Girl Inspiration:Scorpio Version( It's XXXtra Prurient (Dirty)...hee hee!

Being the libidinous and ultra squishy Scorpio that I am, I began to think of better ways to deal with the so-called "trauma" of the extra luscious layers that many of us gain during holiday feasting. First a little song sung in melody of that classic "C is for Cookie by the timeless composer Cookie Monster Esq.


Ahem.....here it goes! Sing along people!

F is for fucking, that's good enough for me (3X)
Oh, fucking, fucking, fucking starts with F

F is for flogging, that's good enough for me (4X)
Oh, flogging, flogging, flogging starts with F

F is for Frottage, that's good enough for me, yeah!
F is for Fattie, that's good enough for me (2X)
F is for Fluffy, that's good enough for me, yeah!
F is for Fucking, that's good enough for me, oh boy!
F is for fetish, that's good enough for me
Um-um-um-um-um-um-um-um-um-um-um-um-um


That's right ladies and gents let's consider the other alternative to what to do with your holiday curves.....Enjoy 'em! I myself enjoy nothing more than watching, teasing, and caressing the invitingly,juicy, wobbly, succulent bits on women (and a few startled men) that tend to gain circumference during the holidays. So before you hit the manic fitness machine, take some time to honor the beauty, softness, and warmth within those newly acquired folds, valleys, and bulges of yours and eagerly waiting and the lucky curve worshippers' around you :) To quote Boccaccio:

"There's no misfortune is a mouth much kissed
It prospers, rather, like the waxing moon"

Why Bessie Smith and I Can't Ride the "Shortbus"- Long Winded Venting Post :)

DISCLAIMER: THIS ISN'T A CRY FOR HELP OR ATTENTION. THIS POST IS MY WAY OF VENTING AND LETTING OFF STEAM. THIS IS MY BLUES WOMAN WAIL


To stave off the sick chick boredom blues, Beloved and I sat down and finally watched the much praised movie 'Shortbus'. I was really excited about seeing it because all of our friends' and various acquaintances had sang its praises as a movie that was beautiful and touching in its sexual honesty and complexity. The movie, they chirped, was unique in it's depiction of real sex with real bodies and would leave me feeling affirmed and uplifted......nerts to them.

I came away from this movie feeling unexplicably angry and ugly and then I thought about it..... How am I supposed to feel beautiful and uplifted after watching yet another movie that depicts a room filled with mostly thin, white (or if you're ethnic- acceptably fair-skinned), male-female sexual coupling as the height of sexual beauty? My real life experiences with the alterna-goth-poly-queer crowd have strangely echoed 'Shortbus' but it's not so lyrical and beautiful when you're the fat dark-skinned black chick that no one wants to touch or fuck. I have plenty of plenty who tell me that I'm pretty and that I "inspire" them to feel good about themselves but all that makes me feel like is a 21st century Mammy figure......there to inspire and comfort white people in a safe and aesexual way that makes them feel good about the fact that they don't look like me. How wonderful.

Please don't tell me that it's a figment of my imagination if you haven't walked in my shoes, looked in my mirror, or caressed my stretchmarks. Even among my progressive and sexually experimental lesbian friends I'm something of an anathema in that most of them don't know how to deal with women of color and I'm instantly lumped into the "your cool like Oprah" untouchable category. Take the "Shortbus" my ass.

New Mexico will always be my home and my heart but I'm realizing that it sucks to feel like a goddamned exhbit at the zoo with no one wanting to get really close to the Africanus Americus. Being the "cool black chick" that you can tell all your problems to because you find her as safe and sexually appealing as your left thumb isn't fun. It hurts. It's tiresome. It's lonely.


I don't want to inspire...I want to be desired
Being a big black woman dosen't mean I'm made of steel
It does mean that it hurts like hell when you make that assumption

So for every fat, black, poly, queer, and dark-skinned chick out there who can't take the "Shortbus"

This one's for you

Beautiful

decided to take an extra dance lesson Tuesday because I didn't have time for much dancing last week with all of the prep for Pride weekend and by the end of the lesson I was in tears and I found myself unable to stop crying. The tears started when my teacher pointed out that as I was dancing, I was either constantly hunched over or my arms were hanging at an awkward position by my side. She said that this was an indication that I was feeling a sense of shame and discomfort about my breasts and pelvic region and that I was to dance the piece until I could let go of my sense of shame and let my inner beauty come through. I wanted to quit because the idea of letting go of the pain I had been holding in all weekend just hurt too much.

It all started Saturday afternoon and just went downhill from there. Saturday afternoon, I was backed into a corner about a situation that I wasn't emotionally equipped to handle at the time. It was done with such anger and accusation that I was left feeling hurt, drained, and like the scared 7 year old me who thought I was too ugly to make friends and only felt comfortable talking to my stuffed animals and books. I felt tired and sad. I just wanted to feel Beautiful.

That evening Beloved and I decided to attend our first ever sensuality party that we had been invited to and I was really looking forward to just kicking back and letting my hair down. I even did a little impromptu dance in the corner for Beloved to her favorite song because I love it when she tells me that I'm Beautiful. The look in her eyes as I danced told me that something was off....was it the room? Was it me? Why wasn't I Beautiful? The rest of my evening was spent feeling awkward as every attempt at conversation was met with a questioning glance as they wondered if the fat black chick was trying to pick them up. On the t.v. there was a hot lesbian porn playing filled with frolicking and happy skinny white chicks getting their brains fucked out because in the dyke world being skinny and white means that you're fuckable and Beautiful. I just wanted someone to talk to me and tell me I was Beautiful.

I carried these feelings with me as we began dance class Tuesday. I carried all of the hurt, lonliness, and insecurity into my dancing and it showed in my less than enthusiastic performance in front of my teacher. She told me to dance again. So I took a deep breath, stepped out over the edge and let go. As I finished, I couldn't stop crying because for the first time in a while, I looked inward and found myself to be Beautiful.

Noah's Arc Cancellation Rant

Noah's Arc Rant


It was announced today that Noah's Arc was cancelled and I strangely feel like I've been kicked in the stomach. I'm angry, frustrated, and sad because it feels like once again the needs and issues queers of color have been shuffled to the background by mainstream (ie white) gay hollywood. In a day and age where anti-black admitting policies are still being practiced by gay clubs everywhere and people still credit Madonna with voguing (Madoona and countless other artists stole their sense of style from the Ballroom Scene...know your queer history), queers of color are inundated with the message that it's our culture and not us that people want around.

I know that as a lesbian, I'm supposed to enjoy watching the L-Word and Will and Grace, but after watching these shows for an episode or two , I came to the conclusion that it's just bad for my blood pressure. I can only watch so much pandering to a heterosexual audience ON A GAY THEMED SHOW before I lose my top. 'Will and Grace' portrays it's gay characters in a safely sterile almost aesexual light that's a far cry from how their heterosexual co-stars are portrayed which indirectly feeds into the myth that the only reason gay men exist is to provide entertainment and uncondiontal friendship to straight women. The L-Word panders to the het. audience on so many levels it's nauseating but that's not my biggest issue with them (as of this writing). My biggest issue with the show can be summed up in the fact that the creators are so culturally reactionary that they truly believe that casting a non-hispanic/latina/chicana woman in a hispana/latina/chican role is no big deal as long as you slap big earrings, dark lipstick and/or give her a stereotypical name. It's like watching a lighter shade of blackface. I'm not disparaging induviduals who enjoy watching these shows but it's just not my cup of queer T.

It should come as no wonder that in the queer entertainment sea of white, rich, and skinny lesbians and aexual white gay men Noah's Arc would provide a buoy of sanity and joy to people like me. The DL mythology has further demonized queers of color within our community filling many of our youth with an incredible sense of self-hatred, shame, and depression when it came to their orientation. Noah's Arc was a trailblazing show because it showed queer people of color in a positive light and that there was nothing to be ashamed of. By just being on the TV screen, it gave queer youth of color everywhere something to hold on to. Everything about the show spoke of the uniqueness and joy that came with our culture from the way that the characters spoke to the cultural references from swap meets to fierce Ballroom shows. And now it's gone. So now I'm going to have a good rant....

(ahem)

NOAH'S ARC WAS OUR ELLEN

DON'T TAKE FROM OUR CULTURE IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE REALITIES OF THE PEOPLE WHO CREATE IT

GAY MEN AREN'T PUT ON THIS EARTH JUST SO FAG HAGS WITH LOW SELF ESTEEM AND LITTLE FASHION SENSE CAN HAVE SOMEONE TO ENTERTAIN THEM AND SHOW THEM HOW TO GIVE A PROPER BLOW JOB

QUEER MEN AND WOMEN WHO ARE FAT, DIFFERENTLY ABLED, OF COLOR, OLD, AND POOR ARE JUST AS HOT AS THE ONES WHO AREN'T...WHO CARES IF HETEROSEXUALS AGREE WITH THAT OR NOT!

NOT ALL BIRACIAL LESBIANS ARE TRAGIC MULATTOS DEALING WITH ISSUES OF "PASSING"..HOW GODDAMN ANTIQUATED CAN YOU GET!

FUCK GLAAD FOR MAKING THE CAST OF NOAH'S ARC SIT IN THE BACK DURING THE AWARD'S CEREMONY AT THE "COLORED TABLE"

FUCK LOGO

I feel better now

Still Standing: A Big Brown Gal's Birthday Musings

At midnight I turn 30 and truly become a woman. For a large part of my life, I was sure that I wouldn't make it to the big 3-0, and there were times when I honestly didn't want to. The age of 30 has always held a certain kind of magic to me and I can't believe that I've made it. My temperament has always been an intense fusion of morbidity and merriment, and I usually fell into a deep state of depression on my birthday. But this feels different.

Tonight at midnight my witching hour begins and I can truly begin my life's journey as someone who has finally earned the status of WOMAN. A woman who is still standing stronger because I survived.......


years of emotional abuse at the hands of family to the point of being suicidal


guilt over being fat, queer, and nappyheaded

feeling shame about my sensuality and being afraid of the power of my cunt

Sexual abuse at the hands of trusted ones starting before I was old enough to be in kindergarten.

Being told that dark-skinned girls aren't pretty by people of other races

Being told that dark-skinned girls aren't pretty by people of my own race

Guilt over loving women

Guilt over loving men

Guilt over loving more than one person

That little voice that still whispers to me that I'll never be worthy of the love, lust, and life that my mind, body, and soul constantly crave.

I MADE IT!!!!!

Tonight I can truly sing the lyrics to my favorite Koko Taylor song because they now echo the fierce joy I feel as a big brown gal who's just turned 30:


oh yeah, oh yeah
everything, everthing, everything gone be alright, oh yeah


When I was a little girl Only twelve years old
Couldn't do nothing
to save my dog gone soul
My mama told me.
the day I was grown
She says "Sing the blues child, Sing it from now on".

I'm a woman,
oh yeah
I'm a woman, I'm a ball of fire
I'm a woman, I can make love to a crocodile
I'm a woman, I can sing the blues
I'm a woman, I can change old to new
Spell w o man,
Oh yeah
That means I'm grown

I'm a woman, I'm a rushing wind
I'm a woman, I can cut stone with a pin
I'm a woman, I'm a love maker
I'm a woman, you know I'm an earth shaker



I'm a woman, I'm a rushing wind
I'm a woman, I can cut stone with a pin
I'm a woman, I know my stuff
I'm a woman, I ain't never had enough

I'm going down yonder, behind the sun
I'm gonna do something for you, that ain't never been done
I'm gonna hold back the lightning, with the palm of my hand
Shake hands with the devil, make him crawl in the sand

I'm a woman, oh yeah
I'm a woman,
I'm a ball of fire
I'm a woman,
I can make love to a crcodile
I'm a woman,
I'm a love maker
I'm a woman,
you know I'm an earth shaker
OH oh oh oh
I'm a woman

The Feast

The world beneath your sheets is a place for feasting

An oasis far from the harsh and unrelenting judgment of others who view you with eyes unseeing and hearts unfeeling

To the unique and powerful beauty that you posses in all of your deliciously unadorned glory

The world beneath your sheets is a place for feasting

Upon the exotic delights of your sensuality and how they set your lover's mind, body, and soul on fire

The way your form quenches the eye's thirst for the delicious complexity found in true beauty.

The world beneath your sheets is a place for feasting

Upon the lusciousness of your tantalizing folds and valleys or delicate sweetness of your slender form

To let every delicious stretch mark, wrinkle, scar, and freckle sing the praises of your life's journey

The world beneath your sheets is a place for feasting

Upon the tantalizing scent that calls to your lover during the heat of passion filling the air with the musk of pleasure

Learn to delight in the erotic banquet of sensations, scents, and sounds of a night well spent.

The world will always be filled with people who will look at you with eyes unseeing and hearts unfeeling and deem you unworthy

To savour how deliciously intoxicating it is to love, live, and laugh without regret or reservation

Never be afraid to make the world beneath your sheets and in your heart a place for feasting.

Eve bint Malika.....Saying goodbye

Yesterday I said goodbye to my mom. I wrapped up all of my past grief, anger, and unspoken hopes at a reconciliation in a tear stained letter to her and sent it along with a bible she tried to give me, back to her in Florida. I love both my parents fiercely, but my relationship with my mother has been horribly tempestuous to say the least since I came out to her 6 or 7 years ago.

We always spoke a different emotional language, she being an ardent stoic who viewed showing certain emotions as a sign of weakness and me a constantly changing tempest of emotion....but I always loved her and desperately sought her fleeting approval. Coming out of the closet meant that I would never be the well behaved upper-class black girl that my parents had raised me to be. I stopped living for the "good of my people" and started living for myself. This also meant that all of the hopes and dreams that my mother and I had for each other and how would relate as I became an adult had to change. Conversations became strained and sometimes filled with shouts of hurt and anger as we struggled to understand each other to no avail.

I will never go back to a life filled with misery, self-loathing, and confusion over feelings and desires that are as natural to me as breathing and my mom will never be able to cross that wide gulf of religious beliefs standing between us to ever completely embrace and accept me. Despite the wide gulf that now stands between us, I always look up at the night sky and picture my mom with her fierce eyes full of unspoken dreams and hopes and I wonder if she looks up at the starry sky and see's me dancing there and thinks of me too.

Hair and Hips- A Nappy Girl's Manifesto

I love my hips the way I love my hair

They are full and fierce with thickly coiled and curved defiance

They are a reflection of the women in my line who came before me

Dark skinned, full-lipped and wide hipped

Dancing, working, loving and birthing under the skies of sun-parched lands

I love my hips the way I love my hair

How they have stood in direct challenge to my attempts at taming them

Starving, torturing, burning, and hiding them to dull the pain of imperfection

The "imperfection" of being too fat, too nappy-headed... too queer

I love my hips the way I love my hair

How they are soft and alluring to an experienced lover's touch

Writhing, wanting, and needing

The pulling, guiding, thrusting, and licking of a night's good lovin'

I love my hips the way I love my hair

They are a reflection of my life's joy as I admire myself in the mirror

Dark skinned, full lipped, and wide hipped

as I dance, work, and love under sun parched skies.

Copyrighted by Me

Shimmies and Dreadlocks make me happy (part 2)

The Altar Scene left me really shaken and freaked out so I decided to go to Hastings (a multimedia superstore) and grab a couple books to drown myself in a bibliophile's stupor until my nerves got better. As I entered the store I said a quick Femme Dyke's Prayer that I wouldn't get bothered by another straight guy who when he's sweetly but firmly told, "I'm a lesbian, I'm not interested" interprets this statement as "I'm a lesbian only because I've been saving myself for you!", like the last time I came to Hastings for my regular geek fix. Happily my prayers were answered and I sat down in large and squishy chair with Dita Von Teese's Fetish/Burlesque photographic art book and mini autobiography and a wonderful photography book dedicated to the beauty and diversity of "dreadlocks" and the people around the world who wear them.



I love reading Dita Von Teese's book because I look upon it as one of the almighty books that a femme-dyke should read at least once because Dita is a woman who enjoys talking about the empowerment that comes with embracing all things feminine within yourself and honing this pride into a fine edge of sensuality and self-awarness. Besides, she's a hot chick who has brains, confidence, and dresses in leather....what else could you ask for? Femmes kick such ass!



The book on locks and those who wear locks around the globe was also an enjoyable read, because it made me really stop and appreciate the beauty and power of that this "hairstyle" can have. I thought about the first time a woman let me touch her locks and how the touch of them reminded me of soft wool and the intoxicating smell of them reminded me of something earthy and softly sacred. I still love the touch and smell of 'locks' but I respect that most wearers of locks that I've encountered rightly view their hair as something personal and at times sared and not an exhibit, so I usually keep my curious hands and nose to myself. When I see a femme with locks I view her regal and breathtaking beauty as the ultimate expression of confidence, defying the world and it's insistance on the monochromatic spectrum of what should be viewed as beautiful. When I see masculine women with dreadlocks, their hair seems like a glorious lion's mane. A signifier that the wearer is fiercely aware of all the strength they hold.

I agree with India Arie that "I am Not My Hair", but I think locks will always still hold an element of magic to me.