SELECT title FROM cont_articles WHERE id='' LIMIT 1 Santa Fe Reporter

Morning Word: Trump Irreverent at Protested Rally

Morning WordWednesday, May 25, 2016 by Peter St. Cyr
Trump Irreverent at Protested Rally
After a brief break from the presidential campaign, Donald Trump, the GOP’s presumptive nominee, was back on the trail in Albuquerque on Tuesday night.
Outside the event, police confronted scores of protesters who tried to rush the doors of the convention center about the same time Trump took the stage. Protesters also threw bottles and rocks at officers on horseback, lit fires and overturned trash cans, prompting police to fire pepper spray. 
The event turned somewhat violent inside, too, when protesters who had sneaked in were escorted out, often by force. Protesters continually interrupted Trump’s hour-plus speech, but the crowd seemed to feed off the commotion, and Trump himself basked in it, creating an atmosphere that at times resembled a mixed martial arts or professional wrestling show.
Governor Targeted
Political blogger Joe Monahan was at the rally and says the crowd seemed stunned the Republican front-runner criticized Gov. Susana Martinez' leadership. 
By throwing Martinez under the bus Trump was not only extracting his revenge for her shunning him but also putting Republican elected officials across the nation on notice that if they mimic her behavior they will be getting some of the same medicine. It was yet another political low point for Gov. Martinez. She was coming off a big weekend loss at the state GOP convention where her favored candidate for GOP national committeeman--Pat Rogers--was trounced by her ardent critic Harvey Yates. Combine that with her falling poll numbers and all that blood in the water proved irresistible to Trump who cuts jugular veins with glee.
Dems Welcome Bill Clinton to New Mexico
Former President Bill Clinton was in Española for a rally to boost support for Hillary Clinton on Tuesday. He told the peaceful crowd that his wife is the only candidate "truly qualified to be president" and would unify, rather than divide, the nation. The former president will be in Albuquerque for another rally today.

Johnson in Double Digits
Former New Mexico Gov. Gary Johnson, who hopes to become the Libertarian Party’s nominee this weekend in Orlando, is gaining national momentum. He’s polling at 10 percent in a new poll.

Abstract Asset
The Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe will soon be showing off one of the artist’s early but less known abstract barn paintings. Last week, the museum paid $3.3 million for her 1926 piece, The Barns, Lake George.
The painting, which has not been publicly exhibited in 50 years, portrays three rustic barns that surrounded the Alfred Stieglitz family property overlooking the shores of Lake George in New York. Stieglitz was an impresario, photographer and gallery owner. He and O’Keeffe married in 1924. The pair regularly vacationed at Lake George while they lived in Manhattan.
UNM Bids on Sandia Management Contract
Dennis Domrzalski reports that the University of New Mexico plans to bid for a share of the $2.9 billion contract to manage Sandia National Labs. It could be a good fit, as more than 2,400 UNM grads work at the lab.

No Field Trip for Chan Jurors
The judge in the Tai Chan murder trial in Las Cruces denied a request from prosecutors to take jurors to the hotel where the fatal shooting took place. Defense attorneys have not said if they plan to call the former Santa Fe County sheriff deputy to the stand when they get their turn to argue self-defense.

Booze Boom
It looks like there’s a liquor boom in Lincoln County, as commissioners approved a slew of new beer and wine licenses.

Case Managers Owed Overtime Pay
“The U.S. Labor Department said Tuesday it ordered Molina Healthcare of New Mexico to pay more than $700,000 in overtime wages to 409 of its case managers,” reports Uriel J Garcia at the New Mexican.

Crimestoppers Money Missing in Alamogordo
The former treasurer of the Otero County Crimestoppers group faces a third-degree felony embezzlement charge after members reported their account is missing money.



MetroGlyphsWednesday, May 25, 2016 by SFR
Russ Thornton is a Santa Fe local who has replaced his first passion, cooking, with a new love interest, the weekly SFR comic he's created called MetroGlyphs. Reach him at

7 Days


7 DaysWednesday, May 25, 2016 by SFR


This isn’t like Breaking Bad at all!



And seriously, don’t even try this on a Friday afternoon.



I know, huh?



Especially the sunbern.



Wake us when it’s over.



Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!



All of it on Tindr.

Paz on Earth

Growth in hip-hop and what it means to self-examine

Music FeaturesWednesday, May 25, 2016 by Alex De Vore

Pablo Paz, aka Adrenaline Truth, aka DJ Shatter, wanted to be an animator once upon a time. “But as I went along school-wise,” he says, “I realized I wasn’t really artistically inclined in that way, but I still wanted to make stuff.” Music, specifically hip-hop, had always been a creative respite for the Omaha-born, Santa Fe-raised Paz, however, so when he returned home after receiving a degree in creative media from the University of Hawaii and training under an audio engineer who he would “rather not name,” he re-enlisted with his old crew, Dezert Banditz. “The Zs are just for fun,” he jokes, “and we were—or we are—one of the bigger crews in the state.” Indeed, like a New Mexican version of the much-ballyhooed Wu-Tang Clan formula, Dezert Banditz remains a loosely connected tribe of groups, MCs, DJs, beat-smiths, producers and various hangers-on. If hip-hop is the product, Dezert Banditz is the factory.

For his part, Paz’s MC and DJ efforts are certainly available for any and all performers, but the bulk of his best work seems inextricably linked to SUBLMNL RNSONS, a three-piece with which he performs alongside Cas Uno (Leroy Cardenas) and Mr. UnXnown (Jose Granados). They’re well known to Santa Fe’s hip-hop elite as prolific writers and producers, and rarely will a show within that genre take place without one or all of them onboard.

“It’s been the project that I’m usually the most focused on,” Paz says. “But lately I’ve really wanted to shift that focus more to the craft of production.” He speaks of his DJ alter-ego, Shatter, a party facilitator who exists in stark contrast to Paz’s soft-spoken and almost shy nature. As a person, Paz is clearly very intelligent, but it would appear he climbs into his own head about how he presents himself to the world at large. As a DJ and performer, he comes alive and takes on an almost completely different persona. Still, he’s nothing if not self-aware of his own potential artistic growth.

“SUBLMNL has songs from over the years that people still like, and we’ll still play those songs because people like ’em, and I get it, but I’m not sure how much I still agree with the message in those anymore, [and] anyway, I’m not writing lyrics as much these days,” he points out. “I’m more focused on DJing, not just because I want my co-MCs to get more of the spotlight—and I know I can count on them to show up and fill in those blank spaces—but because when I step up to the mic, I want to have something to say, even … it doesn’t matter if it’s not important to the rest of the world, it still has to be important to me.”

During his informal mini-hiatus, he’s sharpened his DJ skills and broadened his repertoire by performing at various regional hip-hop showcases. “They can be really long and teach you that you have to know all kinds of styles,” he says. “So I DJ with a rapper’s perspective because when I was doing more MC stuff, the DJ was always the wild card, and they should be the conduit through which all the music flows.”

His refreshingly communal-minded philosophy from within a field that seems to foster a single-player mentality has obviously served him well, as he appears among this year’s SFR Best of Santa Fe-nominated artists in the DJ category and also helms the decks for a massive show Friday at The Underground, which features NYC artist Ricky Bats, Rill, Nspire, Ben Davis, SBLMNL RNSONS and others.

“I’m all about figuring out what’s feasible, and when you get a little older and think about how maybe you didn’t reach whatever level of success you thought you would … I mean, I have some cred, but I just don’t see myself rapping for another 20 or 30 years,” Paz notes. “This city’s got a vibrant music culture right now, and I could easily continue rapping, but DJing had me right from the get.”

Rill, Nspire, Ben Davis and more
9 pm Friday, May 27. $5.
The Underground.
200 W San Francisco St.

Small Bites

Eat at Paper Dosa and #SFRFoodies

Small BitesWednesday, May 25, 2016 by SFR

Paper Dosa

Jou Godfrey
Indian food doesn’t have to be a pile of indistinguishable mush, and the whole concept of assembling your own dosa proves that it can also be fun as an evening of DIY if you go to the right restaurant. Located just a door down from Maria’s, Paper Dosa couldn’t be a more opposite approach to City Different dining. Order a dosa, of course, and be treated to a paper-thin, Indian-style crepe that’s so big there’s no way it fits on the plate. Can’t choose? Try the traditional masala, potatoes blended with turmeric, caramelized onions, red chile, mustard seeds and cashews ($10). Each comes with two housemade chutneys, a mint-green coconut concoction and a tomato basil rendition, along with a cup of spicy lentil soup. A definite don’t-miss on the menu is the onion pakora, fried onions and jalapeños served with an eggplant sauce ($8). And as you’re wondering whether you’ll need one or two Tums on the way home, calm down your gut with Rasmalai ($5), a fresh cheese dessert drenched in sweet cream with rosewater and cardamom. Nom.

-Julie Ann Grimm

551 W Cordova Road, 930-5521
Dinner Tuesday-Sunday


Come across a dish worth commemorating, like in these tempting pics? Share it on Instagram using #SFRfoodies.

Capital Idea

Stellar service and seriously fun food make this place a special treat

Food WritingWednesday, May 25, 2016 by Gwyneth Doland

People often ask food critics: What’s the best restaurant? It’s incredibly frustrating because this question is almost impossible to answer. It’s like asking someone to pick a favorite pair of shoes. Shoes for what? Dancing, golfing, hiking or looking devastatingly sexy? The better question would be more specific: What’s the best place for really hot red chile, the best pad Thai, a cheap lunch downtown, the prettiest patio, a restaurant where no one will mind if the kids run around or the best place to celebrate a special occasion (especially if someone else is paying)?

Well, if I had an occasion to celebrate this week, I’d ask you to take me to State Capital Kitchen (500 Sandoval St., 467-8237). The food is creative and interesting, the atmosphere is relaxed and charming, and the service is lavish and pampering. It’s perfect for making someone feel special, but the food is so good that it can turn a regular Tuesday night into an occasion.

This is what I’m talking about: Almost all of the tables were full when my date and I showed up about 15 minutes early for a 7:30 reservation one recent night, so we were invited to have a seat in a cozy banquette in the foyer. Sitting on a low table in front of us was a tray holding a bottle of bubbly and a dozen flutes. They must be expecting a party, we thought.

Then a cheery server came by and offered us some cava. She popped the cork and filled two glasses, and we toasted to a much-needed kid-free date night—but then I had a pang of paranoia: Do they recognize me? Do they know I’m here to write a review? Why else would we get this special treatment?

For the first half of the evening, I was sure I’d somehow been found out. Why else would all these people be so attentive, so nice? What else could possibly motivate the bartender to leave his perch and swing by our table, pick up some dirty plates and refill our water glasses?

Over the course of the meal, though, we came to believe we weren’t being treated any differently. Other tables seemed to get the same level of attention: kind and knowledgeable, indulgent but not obsequious.

State Capital Kitchen offers unusually good service and the food to match. The menu is full of dishes that present familiar ingredients in novel ways, such as a plate of perfectly bronzed scallops that came plated with soft pillows of ravioli filled with foie gras ($33). Cooking melts the filling so that a fork, piercing the pillow’s exterior, causes a minor geyser of molten foie gras to erupt on the plate.

It’s fun to pop the foie gras balloons. By the third ravioli, however, one does wonder whether the best use of foie gras is having it Jackson Pollock all over a plate and leaving a diner to mop it up with pieces of ravioli that are not particularly absorbent.

(A similar trick is employed with more success in the exploding passion fruit balls from the dessert menu: bite-sized alabaster spheres of white chocolate that immediately melt to release a burst of sweet-citrusy passion fruit liquid. They are marvelous.)

A generously sized starter of duck liver toast involved a thick schmear of mild, smooth liver. The nest of frisée that topped the toasts was a surprisingly good foil for the richness of the liver. And the mushroom ragout topping was very tasty, although camouflaged on the similarly colored liver. We only wished that the toasts were thinner and toastier.

A simple green salad was exceptionally good, with big pieces of beautiful baby lettuce lightly dressed and topped with a quenelle of chèvre ($9). My date wished the cheese were spread all over the salad, but I liked spearing a few leaves and then dragging them through the soft chèvre.

The chicken roulade ($29) was remarkably moist inside, maybe because it was wrapped with crispy chicken skin. It came with a golden shredded potato cake that tasted as if it were made by someone who admires McDonald’s hash browns but wanted to make a real version.

The restaurant bills itself as “artisanal American dim sum,” and a cart does come around the dining room to offer small plates. The night we were there, the cart didn’t seem to come around often enough to count on it for making a full, timely meal, but do not miss sampling its delights as a supplement to whatever else you order. Prosciutto-wrapped dates filled with blue cheese offered a sweet-salty pop. Deep-fried bites of brandade had a mild flavor and silky texture not often found in a dish made from dried fish. And delicately deep-fried quail legs were delicious, dipped in a thick red curry sauce tinged with vanilla. The plates are small, but so are their prices (all under $10).

It may take serious effort, but do try to save room for one of the clever desserts. The chocolate sphere is an orange-sized brown globe that transforms as the server pours a warm pistachio sauce over it, causing the top to melt away and reveal a filling of chocolate mousse and cherry ice cream ($9). It’s a big dessert, and the flavors are almost overwhelmingly intense, but it’s worth it for the presentation and fun of discovering the contents.

The “experience” factor here is high, and that makes SCK a worthy destination, but it wouldn’t be successful if the presentations weren’t backed up with high-quality local ingredients so skillfully prepared. How many literal explosions (foie gras, passion fruit, chocolate bombe) are too many for one meal? As a gimmick, maybe it gets old, but thankfully the kitchen doesn’t rely on just these technical surprises.

We left feeling like we’d overindulged, but we wouldn’t have wanted to miss anything that came to the table. For $125, we had two starters, two mains, one big dessert and two dessert bites, plus three plates from the dim sum cart and two glasses of wine. Looking at the bill later, it appeared that the server forgot to charge us for the dim sum, but the options change nightly and run $2-$6. It was a lot of food for the money and made more worth it by the inventive food and indulgent service. It’s a good value for such an enjoyable experience.

5-9 pm Tuesday-Thursday, 5-10:30 pm
Friday-Saturday, closed Sunday and Monday
Best Bet:
Tidbits from the dim sum cart
Don’t Miss:
Exploding passion fruit balls

Play Nice

Gosling and Crowe try their best to be funny

OkWednesday, May 25, 2016 by Alex De Vore

It’s only fair to give kudos to Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling—actors who generally tend to take serious roles—for their attempts at slapstick, but the overall cheese factor of The Nice Guys, the newest film from director Shane Black (Iron Man 3), keeps it from ever achieving the levels of cool to which it so obviously aspires. It’s 1977 Los Angeles, a smog-laden playground for criminals and “filmmakers,” a world wherein porno theaters are still a thing and Jackson Healy (a straight-faced yet enjoyably ridiculous Crowe) can be hired to break the arms of all your problems. When a client hires Healy to help her lose a tail, he is unwittingly thrust into a corrupt world of pornographers, politicians and assassins, and when the client goes missing and the villains come a-looking, Healy teams up with Holland March (the comedically acceptable Gosling), a widower and former cop who tackles private detective work for lonely old folks. March knows better than to take advantage of the elderly but does so anyway, in order to support his daughter Holly (yet another precocious teen played well by Angourie Rice) who, when asked, tells her father that yes, he is a terrible person. What begins as Healy’s quest for answers quickly escalates into a multifaceted mystery involving missing persons, LA’s seedy underbelly and murdered pet fish.

Though fun to observe the ragtag teaming of such colorful characters at first, the ultimate issue with The Nice Guys is that it just isn’t that funny. Gosling has his moments now and again, and there is absolute chemistry in the father-daughter relationship between his ne’er-do-well alcoholic persona and the too-smart-for-her-own-good Holly. He is definitely trying to be a good parent, but she still walks all over him, mostly because he’s too drunk to keep up.

Crowe’s performance, on the other hand, is not bad, per se, but lacking. There is humor to be found in a bruiser who casually explains to his victims the medical specifics of their impending broken bones, but he never mines deep enough to strike comedic gold. It comes across as one-dimensional and, when played off of Gosling’s stab at goofiness, highlights this nagging feeling that they turned one good character into two just OK characters. And this is frustrating, because The Nice Guys comes pretty close to awesome more than a few times, like when a neighborhood teen tells our heroes that he’s got a big dick or when Gosling dreams of gargantuan talking Africanized bees.

Kim Bassinger stops by for a pointless role as the head of the Justice Department, but her overall application to the plot is so telegraphed that when we reach what was supposed to be her “Oh damn!” moment, it actually comes across as “Oh duh!” White Collar star Matt Bomer does bring a certain panache to the enigmatic (read: not fleshed-out) and ruthless assassin, John Boy, but he is so under-utilized that he sort of fades from memory when he isn’t onscreen, which actually makes clear the film’s most glaring fault: There never comes a time when Healy and March are so threatened as to make us worry.

Of course the good guys always win, but it’s always fun to reach that cinematic moment that makes us wonder how they’ll get out of whatever situation alive. Sadly, this never comes, but that’s ultimately just fine, since The Nice Guys is really more of a time-killer than a foray into powerful film. But we knew that, right? Of course we did. We really only went to see the thing because it looked kind of goofy, and we thought it would be fun to see usually dramatic actors get silly. If this was the goal, then they nailed it. Otherwise, it would be wise to take this thing at face value, have a few yucks and then forget about it forever.

The Nice Guys
Directed by Shane Black With Gosling, Crowe and Bassinger
Violet Crown, Regal 14
116 min.

Once a Marine

New raw documentary exposes the difficulty in reintegrating after military service.

YayWednesday, May 25, 2016 by Julie Ann Grimm

Let’s just assume that Memorial Day means something more than a coveted three-day weekend in the first fair days on the edge of summer. Because it does. And let’s agree that spending $12 to see a Hollywood blockbuster wherein Mark Wahlberg sports a dirty face while he rolls around the hills outside Santa Fe doesn’t quite cut it either. Here’s your mission: Sit in this theater. Listen to these dudes talk about real war and real homecoming. Watch their eyes glisten and their lips tremble and their faces go back to hard again. What they have to say is something every American should witness. Once a Marine is far from polished. It opens with the eerie green glow of a night-vision camera, accompanied by the sounds of war: loud booms followed by celebratory yells, dogs barking, screamed commands and admonition, choppers circling, bullets cracking. This footage and that of the other overseas scenes was captured not by some embedded media hack, but by fellow infantryman Stephen Canty, deployed a second time to Afghanistan and involved in the 2010 offensive in Marjah. He captures the surreal pinks and reds of poppy fields along with raw images of the wounded in battle and jarring jostles of muddy furrows. Two weeks after the battle, Charlie Company returned home. And after that, Canty visited several of his fellow soldiers for intimate interviews. These are rough-cut interviews with amateur lighting and marginal sound. Several men swill from beer cans while they talk. One cleans up a bedroom in his mother’s house that’s littered with empty heroin bags and cigarette butts. As is true for many of our fighting men and women, the reintegration did not go well. Their physical and emotional wounds have not healed. Those latter ones might not ever. Canty, who hails from Virginia and made a home in New Mexico two years ago, will offer a Q&A alongside featured Marines Xavier Zell, Geoffrey Heath and Darren Doss at the film’s free showing at 8 pm on Memorial Day. 

Once a Marine
The Screen. NR,
57 min.

Love & Friendship

Finally. A period piece that isn’t boring as hell.

YayWednesday, May 25, 2016 by Jeff Berg

Although delightfully uneven, and heavy with both dialogue and horse-drawn carriages, period piece Love & Friendship is thoroughly enjoyable and well made. Directed by Whit Stillman (Metropolitan, Damsels in Distress) from the novella Lady Susan by Jane Austen (which was not published until 1871, long after her passing), we follow Lady Susan herself (Kate Beckinsale of Underworld fame), a recent widow in search of new husbands for herself and for her daughter, Frederica, played by Morfydd Clark (Pride and Prejudice and Zombies). We meet Susan as she moves to new quarters with her former brother-in-law, Charles (Thor 2’s Justin Edwards) and his quivering wife Catherine (Emma Greenwell, also from Pride and Prejudice and Zombies). Possible candidates for matrimony include the dull but handsome Reginald (Twilight alum Xavier Samuel), another woman’s husband named Lord Manwaring (King Arthur’s Lochlann O’Mearáin) and the buffoonish Sir James Martin (Tom Bennett), a man who doesn’t understand that “Churchill” is one word, not a place called Church Hill. A steady flow of letters, delivered by long-faced but impeccably dressed servants, helps to keep the movie moving, with parts of the text of said letters appearing onscreen at times, like self-mocking subtitles. This works well and adds plenty to the gentle humor that runs throughout the entire film. Lady Susan also has a crisp tongue, which she is not afraid to use on most anyone, including the cads and bounders who try to catch her eye and Chloe Sevigny (Big Love) who plays her best friend, Alice. Suffice it to say that Lady Susan will probably get her way, no matter who or what the obstacle might be. Stillman’s casting is terrific, and the film gets extra boosts from costuming and cinematography. Some might find the film too talky, but if one listens intently, the dialogue flows freely and with a certain amount of charm. Love & Friendship offers little of either but hits the mark just for that reason. 

Love & Friendship
CCA and Violet Crown,
92 min.

Savage Love

Identity Cards

Savage LoveWednesday, May 25, 2016 by Dan Savage

I am a 40-year-old woman; I came out when I was 16. When I was 17, I met M and we dated for eight years. M was a horrible human being—emotionally and occasionally physically abusive. M still sends me the occasional (creepy) e-mail, wishing me a happy birthday or giving me updates on people I don’t really recall. I don’t respond. A few years back, I got an e-mail saying that M was now “Mike.” I think it’s important to use the pronouns people want you to use for them. But Mike wasn’t Mike when he was in my life. Changing his pronoun when describing him feels like I’m changing my identity—my first real long-term relationship was with someone I thought was a woman. Mike caused a lot of damage in my life—does he get to fuck up (or complicate) my identity, too? It’s not like the subject of Mike comes up daily. When it does, I feel like a liar if I use “she,” using “he” makes me feel like I’m lying about myself, and stopping to explain everything derails the conversation. And it’s not like I’m being a great trans ally when a conversation gets sidelined by something like: “Well, random coworker whose only trans reference is Caitlyn Jenner, my ex is trans and he’s a psychopath.”

-Mike’s Hard Lemonade

Block Mike’s number, block his e-mail address, block him on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, LinkedIn, Periscope, Kik, FuckStick, WhatsApp, CumDump, etc., etc., etc., ad infinitum.

And stop talking about Mike—don’t discuss him with random coworkers, casual acquaintances, or friends. If you absolutely, positively must discuss him with someone—a true intimate with a right to your relationship history, who needs to be sensitive to the abuse you suffered—you can be a good ally to other trans people (not your abusive trans ex) by carefully using nouns and descriptors in place of your asshole ex’s preferred pronouns. So instead of “I met him when I was still a teenager,” you say, “I met the abusive piece of shit when I was still a teenager.” Instead of “It took me eight long years to get away from him,” you say, “It took me eight long years to get away from that asshole psychopath.”

What I’m gonna say next will get me slammed on Twitter (heavens), MHL, but I’ve learned not to read my @s, so here we go…

If using male pronouns when referring to your ex is gonna complicate your life—really complicate it—if the “transitioned later” part is likely to get dropped during a game of interoffice telephone, if the qualifier about your ex having identified as a woman while you were together is likely to get dropped too, and if either of those drops could lead coworkers or casual acquaintances to assume something about you that isn’t true, i.e., that you’re into dudes and therefore gettable by dudes, and if that erroneous assumption could result in your having to deflect awkward and/or unpleasant advances from confused males, or if having your status as a Gold Star Lesbian questioned could induce orientational dysphoria… I don’t see the nontheoretical harm in you—and only you—misgendering Mike on the rare occasion when a convo about him can’t be avoided. You don’t live near him, no one you know knows him, and the misgendering is unlikely to get back to him. The adage “no harm, no foul” applies here.

But it would be simpler, easier, and ally-ier if you sidestepped the issue by not speaking to anyone about your asshole ex ever again.

I am a fortysomething bi woman happily married to a newly transitioned 50ish trans woman. I have a history of putting myself about a bit (safely) before our relationship, but we have been monogamous since we met (except for a disastrous threesome). My wife hasn’t put herself about and has slept with only myself and one other to whom she was also married—and that threesome. She understands that I have a high libido and mostly she doesn’t. Our sex life is loving and good mostly, but I do want more. There have been discussions on opening up our relationship—but essentially I want to and she is resistant. I want to do this with transparency and with men (mostly), but I don’t feel this is realistic emotionally for her given some conflict we’ve had over this issue. Is cheating the only answer here?

-Never Overly Terrified

I can see how it might be emotionally tricky for a recently transitioned trans woman—that would be your wife—to cheerfully sign off on her second wife sleeping with men (mostly) and with transparency (ethically). But if you absolutely, positively can’t commit to sleeping with only her for the rest of your life, NOT, and you can’t get her permission to sleep with others… then, yes, there’s cheating. There’s also fantasy, masturbation, repression, sublimation, self-sacrifice—and divorce.

I’m a queer woman. When I entered my 30s, I realized that I was more queer/bi than I had previously allowed myself to be, and I started exploring my attraction to cis heterosexual men. Five years later, and I’m in an incredible GGG relationship with a cis het male. He’s everything I have ever wanted in a partner: sexy, funny, feminist, and smart. We have full disclosure about sexuality and kinks, no complaints there. What I do have trouble with is navigating his family and friends, twin social circles composed of heterosexuals who fall into stereotypical gender roles. I spent my teens and 20s fully submersed in queer/trans circles with like-minded feminist hippies who are not hung up on the gender binary. My partner’s friends are fundamentally good people, but they see nothing wrong with “old fashioned” misogyny. I am often interrupted, talked over, and “mansplained” by my partner’s male friends. And while I am a pretty friendly person, I can’t get a foot in the door with the women in his friend circle. My notions on feminism and equality are way too out there, so I tend to keep to myself in a corner during parties in order to avoid starting an argument. How do I navigate this weird heterosexual world that I don’t understand? I’ve tried to explain my feelings to my partner, but I think he has a hard time relating, as he is a heterosexual cis male and was raised as one. How do I keep from losing my cool when someone starts to mansplain to me? I may be in a heterosexual romantic partnership, but I am still a queer lady at heart.

-Bi Lefty Encounters Cis Hets

Some people “fall into stereotypical gender roles” because that’s who they are, BLECH, and what you perceive as the thoughtless embrace of the gender binary can in some cases be an authentic expression of gender identity. That doesn’t excuse misogyny and mansplaining, of course, but not everyone who embraces seemingly stereotypical gender roles is a dupe who needs a good talking to from the new queer girlfriend of an old straight friend.

That said, if going to parties with your cis het boyfriend’s gender-normative friends makes you miserable… don’t go to those parties. Or if you must go, drag along a leftist-hippie-queer friend who can sit in the corner with you and marvel at the mansplaining manmuggles and their clueless lady friends who aren’t interested in your thoughts on feminism and equality.

On the Lovecast, it’s our 500th episode! With weed expert David Schmader:
@fakedansavage on Twitter
Morning Word: Trump Irreverent at Protested Rally

© 2016 Santa Fe Reporter. All Rights Reserved.
Powered by WEHAA.COM
Regular Site