November 21st, 2016

A bit of interesting history for you coming at you today.

Did you know that Eleanor Roosevelt was gay?!

A gay First Lady of the US! Why the hell hasn’t this been made into a tv show yet? Instead we have to watch the likes of straight white men such as Fitzgerald Grant III and Frank Underwood. They could make Mellie or Claire gay. Omg what a show that would be! What a show!

Anyway, so Eleanor was the wife of Franklin Roosevelt, who was the president during WWII. She’s actually pretty amazing. She was a fierce feminist, she fought for gender and racial equality, and of course, she was gay. Best part of all. She was gay.

And someone just released a bunch of letters between her and a woman named Lorena Hickock who was also gay. Hickock’s nickname was Hick, and she had several girlfriends over time but Eleanor was probably her longest running girlfriend.

The letters are fascinating. They’re fascinating and they’re brimming with love and adoration and even a little lust. Like, it’s actually a bit sexy to read them. It’s a bit sexy and I feel a bit like I’m intruding on a couple’s love life. Like I walked in on them doing something. Not sex, necessarily but discussing something very personal. Like discussing sex. How they each prefer kissing, where their ticklish spots are, what their safe word would be. Except I don’t think Eleanor and Lorena ever needed safe words. They don’t really seem the very adventurous types. But I guess they had to have been somewhat adventurous to be a First Lady and a highly regarded, pioneering feminist journalist in a sexual relationship.

So insane.

Torrid.

I was reading about the two of them, and a little bit about the First Lady herself, and I just had to come write an entry for you in this here book thing because I don’t know. I think I thought of us. It’s clear how much they love each other, and I know how much I love you. Maybe that’s where my train of thought ended up going. Their relationship isn’t totally the same as ours though because, for the most part, their relationship was forced to be a secret (obviously. Scandal does not happen in real life.) and because of the nature, it was also long distance. And just to top it off, Eleanor wasn’t just a First Lady who kept to herself and picked out the china and did nothing more. No, she was actually super political and arguably did more work in the White House then good ol’ Franklin did. And after he died, she continued to be political and was actually the first US United Nations delegate. Isn’t that just wonderful? Don’t you feel like you have a new hero now? And knowing this, doesn’t it kind of make you feel like House of Cards could soon be based just as much off of the Roosevelts as the Clintons? But with a modern twist? Eh maybe not.

Ok so I also wanted to include a passage from one of Eleanor and Lorena’s letters. It’s just crazy how much language has changed in the last 83 years. At first it just seems so tame and gentle and loving, but for the time, maybe it was the equivalent to some of our text messages to each other.

So this one was from Eleanor Roosevelt to her journalist girlfriend, Lorena Hickock, December 5, 1933:

Only eight more days. Twenty-four hours from now it will be only seven more – just a week! I’ve been trying today to bring back your face – to remember just how you
look. Funny how even the dearest face will fade away in time. Most clearly I remember your eyes with a kind of teasing smile in them, and the feeling of that soft spot just northeast of the corner of your mouth against my lips. I wonder what we’ll do when we meet – what we’ll say. Well – I’m rather proud of us, aren’t you? I think
we’ve done rather well.

How detailed is that? How utterly lovely? I mean, she went and gave actual directions for the soft spot on someone’s face! The soft spot that she found with her lips! Goodness! Is it me or is it getting hot in here?

And it’s so fascinating that it’s the soft spot on her upper lip that she finds sensual and worth pointing out. Me? My first thought? “Soft spot on Lina? Hmmm, well the outside edge of her areola is soft.” Nipples, Lina! I think of nipples. Appalling.

I’m such a perv.

The outside edge of your areola really is soft though.

eleanor
She does look a little like a butchy lady who pines after the soft spot on a lady’s face, doesn’t she?
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