Help Women and Men

So, here I am, back and rambling. Feel free to scroll ahead if you get bored. I didn't end up going to watch "The L Word" tonight. We had a snowstorm and I just didn't feel like going over there. Brian and I were supposed to meet at Common Cup but some kind of presentation was going on and it didn't seem like anyone was getting actual food and it was pretty crowded, so we went to the Ranch House instead. I don't know, he's a nice guy but we have so little in common and are so different and not in a good way, and I was never interested in dating him-or anyone else since I met, uh, people rhyming with "bike"-in the first place. Dinner was okay, slightly awkward though. He's really shy but doesn't appreciate things aesthetically, so silence is just uncomfortable, totally the opposite of any silence I share with other people. It was weird because I know he likes me but aside from that I felt like I was eating next to a stranger on a plane with whom I'd previously gotten politely chatty. After dinner we were walking around and since the snow was really coming down, I was showing him how I'm an idiot and like to walk around looking up into all the flakes coming down, see how high up I can see them, and pick one and follow it down and try to catch it in my mouth. Meanwhile, I stumble all over the place. So I did that for awhile and we just started walking and talking a little, and then he said, "Where are we going?" I figured that was as good a time as any to bring up the point that I don't really want to see him anymore, at least not in this context, so I said, "You mean literally or something else?" And he said, "Both, I guess." Yeah, we were just wandering around outside so it was obvious that we were going nowhere in particular, and I told him that I have really liked getting to know him (we've hung out maybe three times now?) and would like to still see him sometime but I didn't want anything to happen with it. He seemed a little bummed but generally okay and I thought everything was good until we were back at our cars and he asked if he could have a kiss goodnight. What the hell?!?! I thought I just told him I didn't want anything like that! And I do appreciate his asking, as I think people should ask before a first or second kiss, but I still felt suddenly defensive as if I had to ward off a sexual predator, despite the fact that Brian is and has been in no way aggressive and in actuality I had no reason to feel threatened, violated, and pull back the way I did. But I told him sorry, no, but gave him a hug and we went our ways. He said he'd call me soon, and while I really wanted to say "No, please don't," I said "ok." I hate that. I hate that a woman has to feel uncomfortable after turning down a man who wanted something sexual, that a woman has to feel like she can assert whatever she wants and whatever she doesn't want and have it taken seriously, know that her body and personal space will not be violated. And it's so sad that women feel that way even among the nicest people, men who are probably like my brother and my boyfriend and would never physically hurt me or any woman or man, who would respect me and give me no reason to worry about my safety...but it happens, and that's how we have to condition ourselves to survive when all we want is to not be afraid anymore, have Mike hold me and tell me how beautiful I am and kiss me all over my body because he loves it and feels welcome there and like a treasured and pampered guest, not some kind of ruthless raider who comes to take and destroy. And I hate that in a room of 300 young women and about 5 young men, 299 of them will raise their hands when asked the question "Have you or has someone you know been a victim of sexual assault?" and when someone asks, "How do you know that at least 3 out of 4 cases go unreported," a new question was posed: "Out of all of you who raised your hands, how many of these incidents were reported?" and maybe 5 people put their hands in the air.

Order of the Phoenix

Sometimes I want to sleep with all of my professors, at least all the good/the interesting/the intelligent/the skilled, just so that through this act of fusion I will pick up some of their discipline, some of their knowledge, some of their enthusiasm, and in part, become them. I also want to sleep with all the members of the Order of the Phoenix from Harry Potter, but let's not get started on all the literary and fictional characters I admire...maybe I do live in a book and someone is reading my life right now.

No need to be coy, Roy.

I think that if I ever have a daughter, I shall name her Pangea. I can call her Gia for short, and she will be a bridge to the reunification of the world.

Now, on to other things, isn't toffee nice? Whou would have thought that the combination of butter and sugar and the right temperature could make one's mouth so savory? I think, perhaps, that one day I shall become a confectioner and open a sweets shop. How the children will love me! But seriously. Maybe people do need to sweeten up their lives, live their fantasies, spend time to spend time, slow down, feel the fabrics and smell the candles and taste the food around them. Drink tea, please. Drink it for me. And drinking for me will be more for you and for them and for everyone, because that's what we call love, that connected good-feeling that makes you want to spread it just so it'll come round your way again and it'll be your turn to make someone else feel so great, that's what love is.

Come on, feel the noise/Girls, rock your boys

Wow, I'm feeling very Air today. My St. Cloud excursion was...weird and very fufilling. I met Alex, who, by the way, is The Kool-Aid Master. Don't really know what happened except he and some tall guy kidnapped me to somebody else's place, and I made friends with The Mystery Machine whilst still in my nightgown, slippers, and Bri's robe. We played darts and I got turned on to rocks/stones/minerals...you know, the earthier elements and their properties and healing/magical qualities. Very cool. Nice to have all the friends back, well, all who are coming back anyway...Joe and I had macaroni and peas last night and Em's next to me right now; we just had Diet Coke and meds in TMC. Everything's good except for the side effect of extreme NERVOUSNESS and ANXIETY that comes to me unprompted. I guess I'd rather get nervous about nothing than something, because I know the crazy adrenaline rushes are chemically induced and will pass and it's nothing to worry about, but still, then I start to wonder if maybe I should be worried. Big deal, and who the fuck cares, because I'm gonna be taking harpsichord lessons and rocking the seasonal party scene.

"What the fuck is this? Beef flavored condoms? Dude, I knew you were a redneck, but come on!" --one of thems guys upon finding an empty ramen seasoning packet

Ten Years Ago...

Wow, this is great. I'm looking at old diaries and journals, and here's one from over ten years ago:

"11/29/95 Today was Heritage Sunday at my dad's church. We ate good food, but it sucked because Mom was upset. She was the only one who dressed up as a pilgrim, Hester Prynne, and she was embarassed [note: Heritage Sunday at this church the years before had meant the entire congregation and clergy dressing up in traditional, Puritan clothing. That church owned historical costumes and it was a lot of fun, like being in a big play...that year my mother must not have gotten the memo. Okay, back to the entry]. But at least she was a Lay Reader, so it looked like she dressed up like that just because she was Lay Reader. Mom gave me this book. She was sad & I could tell because she gave this to her mother in 1989 and asked her to write memories and stuff in it, but she never did. After she died, Mom looked for this, but found it, empty, and she cried. I'm scared because I get my big removal tomorrow. I hope It doesn't hurt. It could be cancerous, though probably not. Mom says it's better to find out what it is, because not knowing is even more scary than something bad. I hope I don't have to take off my shirt when they do it. Good thing I washed my sturdiest sports bra! I hope I get my period again soon. I'm sick of it being irregular. I love Bailey [our Basset Hound], but I hope the cat still loves me. Zeb gets mad at me sometimes, and vise-versa, but we get along OK. I hope he gets a girlfriend, because he takes stuff like that hard if they reject him, and he's got the Prom this year! I'm glad I'm popular now. I used to pray every night to be popular, and now I am."

Ha, back in the day when I was twelve years old and in sixth grade! I quoted exactly, word-for-word, spelling, and punctuation. It's really amazing to look back into myself so long ago, when I had all the cancer--perfect for a time when my body is already alien to me, already changing rapidly each day and replaced with a stranger every time I look. Back when I see how bad things were between my parents, how cold and near-death the atmosphere was in our home, how our souls had clouded and veiled our hearts with a gloomy numbness. Maybe I'm sounding melodramatic, but I am visual, and if I can finally understand the emotions that have haunted me for all this time, I will paint the picture as bright as possible. The sun really does come up again, doesn't it. It's nice to be alive, and it's nice to have a life and remember that I have it. Daily challenge: think about your life, remember you have it, and live it! Hee hee, now I'm turning into one of those inspirational posters with a picture of stars, a rainbow, and a canoe. Eh, fuck it, and bless us every one!

Homeless

It's so hard to feel at home here. I caught myself doing little chores tonight in a familiar sense. However, that sense was uncanny, and only tonight do I understand truly the meaning of that word. Freud may be full of it on a lot of accounts, but his interpretation of The Uncanny is certainly worth reading. ANYWAY...it would be right for me to feel at home here; this is my home, in theory. So many things are the same: I washed dishes so many times in that sink, I got ready for school every day in that bathroom, I spent hours paging through books, deciding which ones to read now and which ones to leave in a dusty stack for another month. Yet, so much has changed, so much is foreign to me, and I am a stranger in the place I knew best and best knew me. Mom observed tonight (about me and Jean Guy), "Wow, you really hate him, don't you?" I couldn't agree with that statement. I don't hate him. I don't. As much as I resent it, I love him in a lot of ways. I associate him with a lot of hurt and hard feelings and therefore adapted the "live and learn" approach to self defense: If you always get sick when you eat ice cream, stop eating ice cream/If you always have burns on your hand, maybe you should stop playing with candles. Well, I stopped investing any emotion in him. I find it funny, though, and somewhat to my delight that the emotion I cannot surpress and kill is love. That's something beautiful about me, and it makes me happy in a sort of resigned way. Still, it's not easy answering the phone and having everyone, including her father, assume I'm Gabby or flopping down on a beautiful and victorian but antique and dainty sofa you know would never survive the strain of hot, late-night, sneaky teenage sex or imagining packing a school lunch on what is now my mother's deco-minimalist kitchen. Maybe I've just outgrown these things, and this place is a reminder that I am not yet accustomed to my new life/status/self/etc., and so I feel a stranger everywhere.

No.

No, no. You do NOT screw me over. You do NOT screw ME over!

"It's a bizzy day!" buzzed the Bon Jos Bees

I'm feeling kind of earthy right now. It's great to think about people who use poor grammar but have good vocabularies. My coworker is like that. Maybe that's why it's easy to talk to her for our, uh, hour and a half coffee break: she comes across as not the most educated, not the brightest, but yet, she's not dumb, not the type for just shallow and polite conversation. She knows quite a bit about life and the nature of people, and her vocab totally excells her grammar skills. Whatev. Gramps is still in the hospital...I think he wants to die but is scared. We shared some moments the last few days (been driving Granny to see him during my time off) and we've had a few times where we've locked gazes and his light is really fading. It's been that way for awhile, but I don't think he'll live too much longer. He knows it, discusses it with no one (neither does Granny), and accepts it, but I think he's afraid of something: I don't know what. He's glad when we come to see him, really glad, and he's started calling me his granddaughter as though we actually had that biological relationship. I hope I can help him find some peace; I think I have. Oooh, oooh, very productive date with Dr. M this afternoon. Almost makes me smug.

Just me and my Menorah

I was taking down my holiday decorations today, and I lingered on the menorah. What is it about Channukah that captures the world's attention? It's not the most important holiday, at least, not spiritually important, and though still quite Orthodox in comparison to Christmas, has gone commercial. We's ain'ts gots nothin' on Yom Kippur...and yet, there's a reason why Channukah took on the role in the Jewish world that it did. The menorah! What a beautiful symbol! Story goes, oil meant to last only one day lasted eight, enough to get the people through the seige or whatever it was that was keeping them from their oil stores; God had helped his people out in a time of need. Yes, politically (if you will), we remind ourselves of that history, that story. But it's a beautiful light...and I love mine, because not only does it direct my attention to the Star (always a symbol of hope and light), but it also reminds me of the fact that God (The Truth/Oneness/Nirvana/Love) is always with us and will provide a light in the darkest times of our lives, and not just once, but day after day after day, for as long as it takes. And then, as we look at each light burning, we remember how beautiful each individual flame is, just like each individual person, or piece of the Collective Love, is, just as taking a step back to get the effect of the entire, blazing menorah, we see the great harmony it makes and the bright, strong light. We count eight individual lights, all lit from the same central flame, and we take eight whole nights to play, sing, feast, give gifts to the people we love because we love them and because God loves us, and isn't it beautiful that we can just sit here and bask in the glow of the warm fire and do nothing but enjoy life?

Hot Khalua Vodka Tonic!

Wonder if my man Andy J has done the first jig of the new year yet...Have you caught the Music Madness? Can you feel it? Are you on fire? Don't know why, but I'm having a lot of fun at work today. I'm just kind of wandering around, hanging things on walls, moving stuff around, making it look good, finding old broken doors in the basement and using them in displays...this is commercial art we're talking about. Yehyah. Hope Deedo calls me back so I can purge my computer of this wretched bug. He's always good at that type of thing. And Joe! Joe Joe Joe, my darling Marcus! Get to see him soon and I can hardly wait! I've been trying to represent myself without him, and I'm afraid I was a bit cross one of the last times I saw him. Hmmm, cheers darling. Joe's obviously caught the Music Madness. You can see it in his eyes. The lack of sun here continuously adds weight to the side of me that wants to live in Texas next year. As Kristin Invie says, "Texas is a place for cow-boooys...Texaaaas, Texaaaas, Texaaaaaaaas..." Maybe I should call her. I do want that song.

2006

A NEW YEAR, A NEW BEGINNING, A NEW HOPE, A NEW FUTURE We shall have peace and the world will live in harmony, love, and comfort as we grow and share as one. Believe this and it shall be.

I love this song...

All my bags are packed I'm ready to go I'm standin' here outside your door I hate to wake you up to say goodbye But the dawn is breakin' It's early morn The taxi's waitin' He's blowin' his horn Already i'm so lonesome I could die So kiss me and smile for me Tell me that you'll wait for me Hold me like you'll never let me go cause i'm leavin' on a jet plane Don't know when i'll be back again babe, i hate to go There's so many times i've let you down So many times i've played around I tell you now, they don't mean a thing Ev'ry place i go, i'll think of you Ev'ry song i sing, i'll sing for you When i come back, i'll bring your wedding ring So kiss me and smile for me Tell me that you'll wait for me Hold me like you'll never let me go cause i'm leavin' on a jet plane Don't know when i'll be back again Oh babe, i hate to go Now the time has come to leave you One more time Let me kiss you Then close your eyes I'll be on my way Dream about the days to come When i won't have to leave alone About the times, i won't have to say Oh, kiss me and smile for me Tell me that you'll wait for me Hold me like you'll never let me go cause i'm leavin' on a jet plane Don't know when i'll be back again Oh babe, i hate to go But, i'm leavin' on a jet plane Don't know when i'll be back again Oh babe, i hate to go