I'm always startled every year when someone who does not know me wishes me a happy Mother's Day. I know that in their own mind they are being nice, but it really annoys the shit out of me that woman=mother=that's what We All Are, that's Our Job. My standard response was that I thought I was getting some flowers for my cats; they were trying to keep it a secret, but I could tell they were up to something.
My friend Beth and I went to The Music Box to see a Mother's Day screening of "Mommie Dearest." The audience was a smattering of cool moms and daughters, and about 85% gay men. We got our pictures taken in the lobby with two men in drag dressed as Joan and Christina. Joan, who was am amazon, gave me a big smooch and I squeezed her fake boobs. And of course I knew the guy who played Christina; show me a man in heels, and chances are we've crossed paths.
Will post the photo once the photographer has it online (you order from his site.)
The pre-show included a costume contest, and The Joans, a band singing some Joan-Crawford/Mommie Dearest tunes, including their own song, "I'm Not Mad at You; I'm Mad at the Dirt." The lead was Lobby Joan, now changed into a black side-slit sequinned dress. It was a blast.
The movie was hysterically campy, of course ("BRING ME THE AXE!"), and we had a great time.
There was a lot of audience interaction. "I've never been to a movie before," laughed Beth, "Where a baby is hissed."
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