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I'm getting ready to abandon the book of faces. I tend to spend time on Bluesky. I had pretty much forgotten about this place. But, I intend to make a home here and make like the LJ days but better.
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Because there are still people in the world who despair and think they are alone. Because people think I’ve been saved, cured or finally met the right man. Because it is not “just a phase”. Because I am married to a man. Because I can pass. I am coming out … again.
I am Queer. By queer, I mean I am someone who falls in love with people regardless of their gender. I do not limit myself in the binary. Love is love, is love. The only choice that exists is whether or not to be happy and in love or miserable and alone. I’ve found happy and in love to be the better choice.
When I started college I was a typical boy-crazy young woman. At some point I met a woman who made my heart race, my hands tremble and my thoughts impure. She was (and still is) flirty, charming and magnetic. Throughout the next ten plus years I had girlfriends and lovers, joy and heartbreak. Although my interest in men never changed, I identified as lesbian. It was just easier and required less explanation.
Eventually I started to date more men and even had a boyfriend or two. My interest in women never changed, but I realized that identifying as a lesbian was disingenuous and required more explanation, rather than less.
Now I identify as queer and I stand before you out and proud. A Queer woman married to a man.
ETA: I just posted this to my FB. I'm nervous about it. It took me a while to strike the right balance of not too preachy and not too angry. I worked really hard to keep it positive. I have to admit I'm a little scared that someone in my family (who thought I was all better now) is going to freak at me. Not that I can't handle that fight, it's just I don't want to have to.
I am Queer. By queer, I mean I am someone who falls in love with people regardless of their gender. I do not limit myself in the binary. Love is love, is love. The only choice that exists is whether or not to be happy and in love or miserable and alone. I’ve found happy and in love to be the better choice.
When I started college I was a typical boy-crazy young woman. At some point I met a woman who made my heart race, my hands tremble and my thoughts impure. She was (and still is) flirty, charming and magnetic. Throughout the next ten plus years I had girlfriends and lovers, joy and heartbreak. Although my interest in men never changed, I identified as lesbian. It was just easier and required less explanation.
Eventually I started to date more men and even had a boyfriend or two. My interest in women never changed, but I realized that identifying as a lesbian was disingenuous and required more explanation, rather than less.
Now I identify as queer and I stand before you out and proud. A Queer woman married to a man.
ETA: I just posted this to my FB. I'm nervous about it. It took me a while to strike the right balance of not too preachy and not too angry. I worked really hard to keep it positive. I have to admit I'm a little scared that someone in my family (who thought I was all better now) is going to freak at me. Not that I can't handle that fight, it's just I don't want to have to.
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There is so much to talk about and so many angles on this. In a lot of ways, I consider myself a poor friend. I’m not good at keeping in touch. I’m not good about getting together. I get very caught up in the now of my own universe and my own emotions that I forget about people I don’t see. If you aren’t in my immediate realm, you aren’t at the top of my mind.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that people don’t randomly pop into my thoughts. That there isn’t that moment, usually spurred by a memory, where I think, “I need to call her” or “I heard his mom was sick, I hope she’s better”.
Despite my appearance of deep self-centeredness in the preceding paragraphs - if you’re in trouble or if you call me and tell me you need me; I’ll drop everything. I’ll re-arrange schedules and do what I need to do to be there for you. Hell, the other day, I went to a friend’s house to help her clean up for an event because she was having a hard time and I’d promised I would; despite having a migraine. See, sometimes I’m not such a bad human being.
As to who I consider a friend vs. an acquaintance that too has shades of gray. I consider myself a pretty empathetic person. There are people on the internet, who I’ve never met, who are essentially strangers, but because I read about their lives and have the occasional conversation with them; I care about them. I care about their wellbeing. I cry when I read about their tribulations. I send them notes of comfort and support. On some level, they count as friends, right? At what point in the exchanges of email do they become “real” friends? Is the requirement to meet them in person, or do you just have to know them for x number of years?
There are people who I’ve met in person only a few times, but I consider them friends even though by all rights they should be considered acquaintances. It’s just that the level of conversation and the level of bonding, the level of recognition (these people are my people) was such that they’ve earned a place in my heart. There are also a few folks I’ve met that I’d like to hang out with more. That I’d like to get to know better because of that feeling that we could be great friends.
It’s also weird when you consider the people who you know think of you as friends, but you don’t feel as close as they seem too. Which means that there are some people who I know I think of as a good friend and they probably just think of me as a general friend, someone they see at the occasional social event, but they’d never invite me to their house for dinner – that would be too intimate; I don’t rank.
And have you ever heard the phrase: “I like him/her, but I can only handle them in small doses”? There are people who I care about, but who have certain personality quirks that drive me batty if I’m around them too long, or in a bad mood. On a good day, I could hang out all day with them, on a bad day, five minutes is too long. Sometimes I wonder if I affect people like that. I don’t dwell on it though, that’s bad for the heart.
Or what about the days you only want to spend time with certain people. Some folks are good for a mellow evening at home, while others are the ones you want to take on the town for an adventure. Sometime they’re the same folks, but it only works if your moods match.
Ultimately I figure that all the feelings I have about people, they have about me. Because of that, I work really hard not to be insulted when I hear that a group of my friends got together for this or that and I wasn’t invited. We all have those days where we want someone to call a friend and sometimes we have the kind of day you want a bosom friend with whom you can share your deepest pains and most frightening hopes and no one else will do.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that people don’t randomly pop into my thoughts. That there isn’t that moment, usually spurred by a memory, where I think, “I need to call her” or “I heard his mom was sick, I hope she’s better”.
Despite my appearance of deep self-centeredness in the preceding paragraphs - if you’re in trouble or if you call me and tell me you need me; I’ll drop everything. I’ll re-arrange schedules and do what I need to do to be there for you. Hell, the other day, I went to a friend’s house to help her clean up for an event because she was having a hard time and I’d promised I would; despite having a migraine. See, sometimes I’m not such a bad human being.
As to who I consider a friend vs. an acquaintance that too has shades of gray. I consider myself a pretty empathetic person. There are people on the internet, who I’ve never met, who are essentially strangers, but because I read about their lives and have the occasional conversation with them; I care about them. I care about their wellbeing. I cry when I read about their tribulations. I send them notes of comfort and support. On some level, they count as friends, right? At what point in the exchanges of email do they become “real” friends? Is the requirement to meet them in person, or do you just have to know them for x number of years?
There are people who I’ve met in person only a few times, but I consider them friends even though by all rights they should be considered acquaintances. It’s just that the level of conversation and the level of bonding, the level of recognition (these people are my people) was such that they’ve earned a place in my heart. There are also a few folks I’ve met that I’d like to hang out with more. That I’d like to get to know better because of that feeling that we could be great friends.
It’s also weird when you consider the people who you know think of you as friends, but you don’t feel as close as they seem too. Which means that there are some people who I know I think of as a good friend and they probably just think of me as a general friend, someone they see at the occasional social event, but they’d never invite me to their house for dinner – that would be too intimate; I don’t rank.
And have you ever heard the phrase: “I like him/her, but I can only handle them in small doses”? There are people who I care about, but who have certain personality quirks that drive me batty if I’m around them too long, or in a bad mood. On a good day, I could hang out all day with them, on a bad day, five minutes is too long. Sometimes I wonder if I affect people like that. I don’t dwell on it though, that’s bad for the heart.
Or what about the days you only want to spend time with certain people. Some folks are good for a mellow evening at home, while others are the ones you want to take on the town for an adventure. Sometime they’re the same folks, but it only works if your moods match.
Ultimately I figure that all the feelings I have about people, they have about me. Because of that, I work really hard not to be insulted when I hear that a group of my friends got together for this or that and I wasn’t invited. We all have those days where we want someone to call a friend and sometimes we have the kind of day you want a bosom friend with whom you can share your deepest pains and most frightening hopes and no one else will do.
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First: Go read Wil Wheaton’s latest blog post on role playing games and imagination. It’s ok, I’ll wait….
( My 2 Cents )
( My 2 Cents )
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From ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mlerules: 1. Pregnancy/Birth/Motherhood 2. Current Altar Contents/Design
(regardless of whether you currently have/use one) 3. Long Hair 4.RenFaire 5. Types of Love
1.Pregnancy/Birth/Motherhood
These are currently part of the main focus of my life. I want very much to have Patch's baby. That's why I married him. (I didn't marry him to have his children. I married him because he's the only person about whom I've thought, "I want to have babies witht this person".)
As a child I always said I didn't want to get married and I didn't want to have babies. A lot of this had to do with my mother's deep negativity about having had me. She never made me feel like she didn't want me, but she always spoke of my birth as a miserable experience for her. She didn't ever wax poetic about my babyhood. I could tell it made her miserable. Now that I'm an adult, and we've talked about it more, I know she suffered from post-partum depression for about two years and that my parents were unprepared for the stesses and changes that come with having a baby. So my mom did suffer and that coloredd everything she passed on to me about it.
As I got older, I used to say, "I have no problem with being a parent, I just don't want to go through the nine months required to achive it." The more I've studied about midwifery, the more I've learned about the process of birth, the more comfortable I've become with it. I have reached a point, where I'm good with the fact that this is what my body was built for and now I'm looking forward to it.
I have some fears when it comes to motherhood. I'm afraid mostly about my temper. There's a part of my that's afraid I'll lose it and beat my child. That, or when I get stressed out, I'll just get a migraine and not be able to deal with what needs doing. Neither of these are an acceptable option. I think though, that my mother gave me a good foundation and that following her example (in most things) will help me raise a good, creative, thinking, contributing member of society. After all, I turned out pretty ok, right? :-)
Besides if my dreams are any indication, I'm going to raise a level headed kid who gets accepted to five different colleges!
2.Current Altar Contents/Design (regardless of whether you currently have/use one)
I don't really talk about my spiritual beliefs much, do I? Actually, I currently do have an altar. It is however of minimal design, because it's in the living room and Patch didn't want a giant pagan display there. So in the phone nook (Yay, 40's houses) there is a doily and resting on it a not oft dusted glass ball, which I use as a focus, and the only other thing is a small bag made of deer hide, with a labrys tied to the outside of it. The bag was made by one of my Amazons (who I never see anymore) and as per standard woo-type practice has miscellaneous meanful goodies in it. The labrys comes from another one of my Amazons, Julie, who I love and miss very much. It's a pendant for a necklace, but since I'm not one to have danglies off my neck on a regular basis, it made more sense to attach it the bag. This fetish goes with me whenever I travel. It is my way of taking my link to home and my altar with me. I believe on some level, that this charm will see me back home safely, but not to the point where I freak out if I forget it. I think though that I've only forgotten it once or twice.
I really hope that in my new home, I'll have a place in the kitchen, where I can set a greek altar with a statue of Hestia, and one of Artemis, along with the assorted, grain and wine etc. Some small niche above the stove (or a fireplace) would be perfect. I'd also like to set up something larger and more elaborate, in my office, or somesuch private space that is mine, with candles and all my various miscellaneous meaningful items. (So that Patchcan't bitch about doesn't have to have in his face.)
3.Long Hair
What can I say, I love my long hair. I think it's beautiful. It makes me feel feminine. There's something increadibly sensual about having your hair slide across your back and feeling it brush your buttocks. When my hair is down, I feel womanly and free. It is my crowning glory. (Check me out, I sound crazy. *grin*) I haven't measured my hair since I lived in Glendale, but is currently longer that my fingertips and just short of the back of my knees. I also, need a trim, the ends are getting iffy.
4.RenFaire
I love doing Faire. It was a place that I found when I was pretty broken. My heart was sore, my self esteem was in the toilet, I was out of work and in debt. Faire pulled me out of my cave into the sunlight. I felt free and beautiful. I was able to stretch my wings and re-invent myself, or at least make little adjustments and see who I was. At Faire, I learned to love myself.
The last couple of years, (I think due to the loss of camping) it has felt more like work. I haven't relaxed as much. It hasn't been the mini-vacation, re-setting of my brain that it once was. This year, I'm going to make more of an effort to have fun and go out and play, see if I can't work out the occasional afternoon off.
5.Types of Love
I'm not sure what you mean by that. If your're talking about the book, I haven't read it and therefore know nothing of my opinion/relationship to it. The types of love, as I learned them were the classic Eros (erotic love), Philia (brotherly love) and Agape (unconditional love).
Love is such a broad thing. I have learned in my short life, that I can love people despite the pain they've caused me. I know that there are people I cannot stay angry with because I love them so. There are also people who I love, who as they disapoint me, I feel my love dwindle. I don't know what causes this, or why it's different, but there it is. I've also found myself to instantly care for someone (philia) because someone I love (usually agape) loves them. That's how I adopted Boober of all people.
I have also felt my heart break. No really, I feel a hollowness, a strike to my heart, I feel it get a little cold. Alternately, I know I'm in love when I think about someone and my heart swells. Ultimately love is a beautiful thing and I'm happy to have it, Eros, Philia, and Agape in my life.
I have a lot to do today, so I'll get to Stacy's stuff on Sunday.
mlerules: 1. Pregnancy/Birth/Motherhood 2. Current Altar Contents/Design(regardless of whether you currently have/use one) 3. Long Hair 4.RenFaire 5. Types of Love
1.Pregnancy/Birth/Motherhood
These are currently part of the main focus of my life. I want very much to have Patch's baby. That's why I married him. (I didn't marry him to have his children. I married him because he's the only person about whom I've thought, "I want to have babies witht this person".)
As a child I always said I didn't want to get married and I didn't want to have babies. A lot of this had to do with my mother's deep negativity about having had me. She never made me feel like she didn't want me, but she always spoke of my birth as a miserable experience for her. She didn't ever wax poetic about my babyhood. I could tell it made her miserable. Now that I'm an adult, and we've talked about it more, I know she suffered from post-partum depression for about two years and that my parents were unprepared for the stesses and changes that come with having a baby. So my mom did suffer and that coloredd everything she passed on to me about it.
As I got older, I used to say, "I have no problem with being a parent, I just don't want to go through the nine months required to achive it." The more I've studied about midwifery, the more I've learned about the process of birth, the more comfortable I've become with it. I have reached a point, where I'm good with the fact that this is what my body was built for and now I'm looking forward to it.
I have some fears when it comes to motherhood. I'm afraid mostly about my temper. There's a part of my that's afraid I'll lose it and beat my child. That, or when I get stressed out, I'll just get a migraine and not be able to deal with what needs doing. Neither of these are an acceptable option. I think though, that my mother gave me a good foundation and that following her example (in most things) will help me raise a good, creative, thinking, contributing member of society. After all, I turned out pretty ok, right? :-)
Besides if my dreams are any indication, I'm going to raise a level headed kid who gets accepted to five different colleges!
2.Current Altar Contents/Design (regardless of whether you currently have/use one)
I don't really talk about my spiritual beliefs much, do I? Actually, I currently do have an altar. It is however of minimal design, because it's in the living room and Patch didn't want a giant pagan display there. So in the phone nook (Yay, 40's houses) there is a doily and resting on it a not oft dusted glass ball, which I use as a focus, and the only other thing is a small bag made of deer hide, with a labrys tied to the outside of it. The bag was made by one of my Amazons (who I never see anymore) and as per standard woo-type practice has miscellaneous meanful goodies in it. The labrys comes from another one of my Amazons, Julie, who I love and miss very much. It's a pendant for a necklace, but since I'm not one to have danglies off my neck on a regular basis, it made more sense to attach it the bag. This fetish goes with me whenever I travel. It is my way of taking my link to home and my altar with me. I believe on some level, that this charm will see me back home safely, but not to the point where I freak out if I forget it. I think though that I've only forgotten it once or twice.
I really hope that in my new home, I'll have a place in the kitchen, where I can set a greek altar with a statue of Hestia, and one of Artemis, along with the assorted, grain and wine etc. Some small niche above the stove (or a fireplace) would be perfect. I'd also like to set up something larger and more elaborate, in my office, or somesuch private space that is mine, with candles and all my various miscellaneous meaningful items. (So that Patch
3.Long Hair
What can I say, I love my long hair. I think it's beautiful. It makes me feel feminine. There's something increadibly sensual about having your hair slide across your back and feeling it brush your buttocks. When my hair is down, I feel womanly and free. It is my crowning glory. (Check me out, I sound crazy. *grin*) I haven't measured my hair since I lived in Glendale, but is currently longer that my fingertips and just short of the back of my knees. I also, need a trim, the ends are getting iffy.
4.RenFaire
I love doing Faire. It was a place that I found when I was pretty broken. My heart was sore, my self esteem was in the toilet, I was out of work and in debt. Faire pulled me out of my cave into the sunlight. I felt free and beautiful. I was able to stretch my wings and re-invent myself, or at least make little adjustments and see who I was. At Faire, I learned to love myself.
The last couple of years, (I think due to the loss of camping) it has felt more like work. I haven't relaxed as much. It hasn't been the mini-vacation, re-setting of my brain that it once was. This year, I'm going to make more of an effort to have fun and go out and play, see if I can't work out the occasional afternoon off.
5.Types of Love
I'm not sure what you mean by that. If your're talking about the book, I haven't read it and therefore know nothing of my opinion/relationship to it. The types of love, as I learned them were the classic Eros (erotic love), Philia (brotherly love) and Agape (unconditional love).
Love is such a broad thing. I have learned in my short life, that I can love people despite the pain they've caused me. I know that there are people I cannot stay angry with because I love them so. There are also people who I love, who as they disapoint me, I feel my love dwindle. I don't know what causes this, or why it's different, but there it is. I've also found myself to instantly care for someone (philia) because someone I love (usually agape) loves them. That's how I adopted Boober of all people.
I have also felt my heart break. No really, I feel a hollowness, a strike to my heart, I feel it get a little cold. Alternately, I know I'm in love when I think about someone and my heart swells. Ultimately love is a beautiful thing and I'm happy to have it, Eros, Philia, and Agape in my life.
I have a lot to do today, so I'll get to Stacy's stuff on Sunday.
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This is a meme I thought was interesting and gives more insight into your friends.
Comment to this post and I will give you 5 subjects/things I associate you with. Then post this in your LJ and elaborate on the subjects given.
5 things thatlunaticbubbles associates with me:
( 1. Feminism 2. Long hair 3. Costuming 4. Activism 5. Flirting )
Comment to this post and I will give you 5 subjects/things I associate you with. Then post this in your LJ and elaborate on the subjects given.
5 things that
lunaticbubbles associates with me:( 1. Feminism 2. Long hair 3. Costuming 4. Activism 5. Flirting )
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Yesterday when I was watching the inauguration and they introduced "air and simple gifts" composed by John Williams; I was really excited to hear something new. I closed my eyes and listened and after the opening, I sat upright and said "what the hell?!". I recognized the underlying music and it wasn't new. I just for the life of me couldn't remember.
My brain kept telling me that John Williams wouldn't plagerize something so recognizable, because well, he'd get caught. I ran a couple of searches on the internet, looking for analysis of the music and all I kept getting was analysis of the inauguration (wow, there are a lot of blowhards out in the world).
Today I found my answer (in fact the answer is in the title, but not knowing the name of the piece). What Williams did was an arrangement of "Simple Gifts" an old Quaker tune that's been used often. I've sung it at folk music gatherings and possibly even in church.
The more you know...
My brain kept telling me that John Williams wouldn't plagerize something so recognizable, because well, he'd get caught. I ran a couple of searches on the internet, looking for analysis of the music and all I kept getting was analysis of the inauguration (wow, there are a lot of blowhards out in the world).
Today I found my answer (in fact the answer is in the title, but not knowing the name of the piece). What Williams did was an arrangement of "Simple Gifts" an old Quaker tune that's been used often. I've sung it at folk music gatherings and possibly even in church.
The more you know...
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OK, so Fast Company has an article on women and electronics. It says some good things like “The biggest mistake we have seen is treating women like a special interest group with only post-design considerations like color and finish. We call this the ’shrink it and pink it’ approach. And, it’s offensive to most women.”
But then, the author goes and says: "According to the Femme Den Smarties, Larry Summers was right: women’s brains ARE different from guys’ and, frankly, figuring out how to hook up a router is harder for us." and "Men, literally, have more gray matter in their brains. That makes them better at specialized and focused tasks. Women, on the other hand, have more white matter. That’s the tissue that wires processing centers together. That means we rock at multitasking, and integrating functions, but figuring out the glitch with the WiFi can be a hurdle."
Seriously? Well, then I give up. Math is hard, let's go shopping.
But then, the author goes and says: "According to the Femme Den Smarties, Larry Summers was right: women’s brains ARE different from guys’ and, frankly, figuring out how to hook up a router is harder for us." and "Men, literally, have more gray matter in their brains. That makes them better at specialized and focused tasks. Women, on the other hand, have more white matter. That’s the tissue that wires processing centers together. That means we rock at multitasking, and integrating functions, but figuring out the glitch with the WiFi can be a hurdle."
Seriously? Well, then I give up. Math is hard, let's go shopping.
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I didn't venture out of the house much or get that much done. I did manage to fold and put away the clean laundry. I also finished building that piece of furniture. While I decided it wasn't so awful in the space, it doesn't have the volume necessary to be useful. So I'm going to list it on craigslist later and see if I can't sell it for close to what I paid for it. That way the purchase of the shelving unit thta will work in that space won't be as big a loss financially.
I really would have done this when we moved in, but Patch was resistant to buying something just for this house. The piece I'm getting from Ikea is a regular shelving unit that we'll be able to use anywhere in any house. It's not our usual flavor, but it can always go into a garage for storage. In the meantime it will make my crappy kitchen more functional. Besides it'll be four months before we've got enough for a piddling down payment, so it's not like we're going anywhere for a while.
I'm also discovering that I'm avoiding going to bed. The sleeping alone is apparently getting to me.
I really would have done this when we moved in, but Patch was resistant to buying something just for this house. The piece I'm getting from Ikea is a regular shelving unit that we'll be able to use anywhere in any house. It's not our usual flavor, but it can always go into a garage for storage. In the meantime it will make my crappy kitchen more functional. Besides it'll be four months before we've got enough for a piddling down payment, so it's not like we're going anywhere for a while.
I'm also discovering that I'm avoiding going to bed. The sleeping alone is apparently getting to me.
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Defining moment where you moved from Child to Adult:
I am a female, I bleed, so menarche?
Seriously though, I don’t think I had a defining moment. I was a precocious child. I got into political discussions with adults. I went to demonstrations and protests with my parents. I cared deeply about workers rights and the environment. I stressed over the Carter/Ford election. (President Carter is still my hero.) I had huge amounts of angst over the election of Ronald Reagan. I couldn’t understand why my fellow fifth graders in the ghetto didn’t care about the threat this man was to their future education.
Maybe the closest thing to a defining moment was turning 18. I had a lot of melancholy and self-doubt during that summer. My parents sent me to Spain to visit my god-mother in Barcelona. While I was excited to visit, I was hurt that my parents should thrust me out on this momentous occasion. I had time to reflect on what I was loosing in becoming an adult and what responsibilities were included in that. It scared me. I prayed a lot that summer, that I would not loose my youthful joy and wonder. Sometimes now, I think I have and then I go camping and splash in the river with my friends, or I go to Disneyland and I thrill over the carousel ride and I know that while I am an adult, and continuing to gain all those responsibilites that in our society define me that way, I haven’t lost my childhood.
After all that, I’ve just thought of a moment when I felt like a real adult. A couple of years ago, I paid off all my debts and actually started setting savings aside. That was a pretty defining moment (side note: I was over 35 at the time).
2nd most disgusting thing you've eaten: Hmmm… I don’t think I’ve eaten anything really disgusting. I don’t go in for those “I dare you…” things. Do “tripas” count? They’re in “menudo”. I had Haggis once, that was pretty nasty tasting…
favorite salad: I used to always have Chef’s Salads as my default, but at some point I’ve moved away from that. Usually now I order whatever Chicken Salad is available, but rarely do I order a Chinese Chicken Salad.
Worst vacation:
Strange, I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad vacation. Or, it was so bad, I’ve just totally forgotten about it. I’ve had things go poorly on vacation, but usually it’s just a portion of the trip.
I’ve gotten jet lagged and motion sick so badly that I spent my first two days in Spain bedridden. On that same trip (return flight) I got stranded in Madrid (airline strike) and re-directed to Miami, as opposed to LAX, so it took three days to get home. But I had a great time while in Spain.
Maybe it’s just that I’m intrinsically optimistic. During that trip, I stayed in a wonderful town in Andorra called “Os de Civis”. The house we stayed in was 400+ years old. The power station was washed out during the winter’s storm so we had no electricity. We had to use candlelight and oil lamps. But because I’m not the indulged American and instead am an incurable romantic medievalist, I adored playing cards by candle light. I loved being curled up by the fire, alternately reading and watching the Prince Valiant look-alike stare into the fire. Man, that boy was pretty. He was also terribly shy and wouldn’t talk to me, so I had to flirt with his brother instead (poor me – I’m not sure there wasn’t a boy I didn’t flirt with). So yeah, lemonade and tons of it. Despite all the weird little hitches, the Madrilenos who taunted me for being American, pushed me into the ocean and dumped beer on my head; that trip was great.
I am a female, I bleed, so menarche?
Seriously though, I don’t think I had a defining moment. I was a precocious child. I got into political discussions with adults. I went to demonstrations and protests with my parents. I cared deeply about workers rights and the environment. I stressed over the Carter/Ford election. (President Carter is still my hero.) I had huge amounts of angst over the election of Ronald Reagan. I couldn’t understand why my fellow fifth graders in the ghetto didn’t care about the threat this man was to their future education.
Maybe the closest thing to a defining moment was turning 18. I had a lot of melancholy and self-doubt during that summer. My parents sent me to Spain to visit my god-mother in Barcelona. While I was excited to visit, I was hurt that my parents should thrust me out on this momentous occasion. I had time to reflect on what I was loosing in becoming an adult and what responsibilities were included in that. It scared me. I prayed a lot that summer, that I would not loose my youthful joy and wonder. Sometimes now, I think I have and then I go camping and splash in the river with my friends, or I go to Disneyland and I thrill over the carousel ride and I know that while I am an adult, and continuing to gain all those responsibilites that in our society define me that way, I haven’t lost my childhood.
After all that, I’ve just thought of a moment when I felt like a real adult. A couple of years ago, I paid off all my debts and actually started setting savings aside. That was a pretty defining moment (side note: I was over 35 at the time).
2nd most disgusting thing you've eaten: Hmmm… I don’t think I’ve eaten anything really disgusting. I don’t go in for those “I dare you…” things. Do “tripas” count? They’re in “menudo”. I had Haggis once, that was pretty nasty tasting…
favorite salad: I used to always have Chef’s Salads as my default, but at some point I’ve moved away from that. Usually now I order whatever Chicken Salad is available, but rarely do I order a Chinese Chicken Salad.
Worst vacation:
Strange, I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad vacation. Or, it was so bad, I’ve just totally forgotten about it. I’ve had things go poorly on vacation, but usually it’s just a portion of the trip.
I’ve gotten jet lagged and motion sick so badly that I spent my first two days in Spain bedridden. On that same trip (return flight) I got stranded in Madrid (airline strike) and re-directed to Miami, as opposed to LAX, so it took three days to get home. But I had a great time while in Spain.
Maybe it’s just that I’m intrinsically optimistic. During that trip, I stayed in a wonderful town in Andorra called “Os de Civis”. The house we stayed in was 400+ years old. The power station was washed out during the winter’s storm so we had no electricity. We had to use candlelight and oil lamps. But because I’m not the indulged American and instead am an incurable romantic medievalist, I adored playing cards by candle light. I loved being curled up by the fire, alternately reading and watching the Prince Valiant look-alike stare into the fire. Man, that boy was pretty. He was also terribly shy and wouldn’t talk to me, so I had to flirt with his brother instead (poor me – I’m not sure there wasn’t a boy I didn’t flirt with). So yeah, lemonade and tons of it. Despite all the weird little hitches, the Madrilenos who taunted me for being American, pushed me into the ocean and dumped beer on my head; that trip was great.
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"Feminism expects a man to be ethical, emotionally present, and accountable to his values in his actions with women — as well as with other men. Feminism loves men enough to expect them to act more honorably and actually believes them capable of doing so."
Sociologist Michael Kimmel in his book "Guyland"
Sociologist Michael Kimmel in his book "Guyland"
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We rolled into Vegas late Thursday/early Friday. It was something like 3am before we got to sleep. So began the weekend of very little sleep.
( Friday )There was some winding down in the party room after we got back to the Suncoast, but mostly I collectedfyrebringer and angelloffyre who were to help me keep my bed free of menfolk for the night. That is all I'm willing to share about my evening. ;-)
( Saturday )And now we get to it... ( the wedding itself )
( From Sunday on )
( Friday )There was some winding down in the party room after we got back to the Suncoast, but mostly I collected
fyrebringer and angelloffyre who were to help me keep my bed free of menfolk for the night. That is all I'm willing to share about my evening. ;-)( Saturday )And now we get to it... ( the wedding itself )
( From Sunday on )
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On nights like tonight, when the weather is warm, I want to go out on my porch and have dinner. I want to feel the summer breeze, chat with my housemates and maybe take a walk over to buy some tacos & bread. Then it hits me, the ache in my heart, the realization that I can't do that. I don't have a porch. I don't have a back yard. I don't live near the bakery.
The funny thing is, I knew we had a good thing. On nights like tonight, when we'd have a few friends over for BBQ and we'd set up the doors on sawhorses in the back yard... we all knew that what we had was magical. We toasted good times and good friends and enjoyed ourselves.
Damn... I miss that. I miss the comaraderie. I miss the sense of being home.
Where I live now, it's just a place to put my stuff. It's small, cluttered and filled with boxes. Here the air doesn't flow. The sun doesn't shine through the windows. There's no place to hang my clothes. No treetop to look at the dappled sun through. No sense of place.
I want a place where my friends can come visit and have room to sit down if there are more than three of them. I want a place where I don't have to move everything to get to something else. I want a place that knows me. I want a place I call home.
Brought to you by the new computer Patch just built for me. Wheee!
The funny thing is, I knew we had a good thing. On nights like tonight, when we'd have a few friends over for BBQ and we'd set up the doors on sawhorses in the back yard... we all knew that what we had was magical. We toasted good times and good friends and enjoyed ourselves.
Damn... I miss that. I miss the comaraderie. I miss the sense of being home.
Where I live now, it's just a place to put my stuff. It's small, cluttered and filled with boxes. Here the air doesn't flow. The sun doesn't shine through the windows. There's no place to hang my clothes. No treetop to look at the dappled sun through. No sense of place.
I want a place where my friends can come visit and have room to sit down if there are more than three of them. I want a place where I don't have to move everything to get to something else. I want a place that knows me. I want a place I call home.
Brought to you by the new computer Patch just built for me. Wheee!
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4 underground
-Hobbit
-Victorian Conservatory?
-Lake House
-River?
Octagon House
Snail House
Sci-Fi Gothic
Segment House (modern transom glass)
Restored Art Nouveau Hotel
Craftsman Hotel, Gatehouse & Lodge
Victorian/shared
Writers retreat w/garage /library
Writer's one room(?) cliff house
Dessert House w/ stream throughout
Ship Treehouse
Treehouse w/nest
Ecovillage cottage in the "middle" of town
Western Town House w/Midwifery shingle
Two story modular apt. in Sci-Fi- spherical complex w/suspended pool
Castle w/Library tower and escher room
-Hobbit
-Victorian Conservatory?
-Lake House
-River?
Octagon House
Snail House
Sci-Fi Gothic
Segment House (modern transom glass)
Restored Art Nouveau Hotel
Craftsman Hotel, Gatehouse & Lodge
Victorian/shared
Writers retreat w/garage /library
Writer's one room(?) cliff house
Dessert House w/ stream throughout
Ship Treehouse
Treehouse w/nest
Ecovillage cottage in the "middle" of town
Western Town House w/Midwifery shingle
Two story modular apt. in Sci-Fi- spherical complex w/suspended pool
Castle w/Library tower and escher room
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So the 20th high school re-union has these info sheets they want us to fill out that will go into a "memory book". *ugh* I hate, hate, hate, trying to sum myself up. Notice the bio here. *bleah*
Anyway, these are some of my options. One is pretentious and one is both pretentious and more honest. None of them are short, so I'll have to write them in 8 point to fit them in the prescribed area. What do you guys think?
*****
What is your favorite memory from high school?
There is no single memory that I hold dear. It is instead the collection of memories and experiences that make up my time at Ramona that are precious. It was, warts and all a wonderful experience.
What have you been up to since 1987 graduation?
I have been broadening my education, earning a wage (sometimes meager, sometimes far more than I deserve), loving deeply, having my heart broken, bruising egos, growing, learning and discovering my life’s goal is to always be surrounded by the people I love.
*****
Favorite memory from High School.
I don’t have one. I remember many things, finding my locker wrapped in newspaper and covered with swastikas; hearing the horrible things said behind my back and slam books. How can anyone forget those? I also remember laughing with my friends at lunch while sharing a single Dorito. I remember passing notes in class, discussing what boy to ask to prom, all written in code. I remember my friends telling me over and over again that I was beautiful and wonderful, until I finally believed it. There isn’t a single crystal memory that I hold dear, as much as I value how the entire experience shaped me.
What have you been up to since 1987 graduation?
Everything and nothing at all. I do the same things year after year, with only slight variations. I work. I go to school. I love. I have my heart broken. I go on wild adventures and have amazing experiences in my own living room. I have revelations about who I am and who I want to be. Mostly though, I spend time with those who love me and do what I can to make their lives joyful.
Anyway, these are some of my options. One is pretentious and one is both pretentious and more honest. None of them are short, so I'll have to write them in 8 point to fit them in the prescribed area. What do you guys think?
*****
What is your favorite memory from high school?
There is no single memory that I hold dear. It is instead the collection of memories and experiences that make up my time at Ramona that are precious. It was, warts and all a wonderful experience.
What have you been up to since 1987 graduation?
I have been broadening my education, earning a wage (sometimes meager, sometimes far more than I deserve), loving deeply, having my heart broken, bruising egos, growing, learning and discovering my life’s goal is to always be surrounded by the people I love.
*****
Favorite memory from High School.
I don’t have one. I remember many things, finding my locker wrapped in newspaper and covered with swastikas; hearing the horrible things said behind my back and slam books. How can anyone forget those? I also remember laughing with my friends at lunch while sharing a single Dorito. I remember passing notes in class, discussing what boy to ask to prom, all written in code. I remember my friends telling me over and over again that I was beautiful and wonderful, until I finally believed it. There isn’t a single crystal memory that I hold dear, as much as I value how the entire experience shaped me.
What have you been up to since 1987 graduation?
Everything and nothing at all. I do the same things year after year, with only slight variations. I work. I go to school. I love. I have my heart broken. I go on wild adventures and have amazing experiences in my own living room. I have revelations about who I am and who I want to be. Mostly though, I spend time with those who love me and do what I can to make their lives joyful.
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How do you guys prioritize social events? Is it first come, first served. Or do you prioritize according to *type* of event?
I think that for me "occasions" have a priority (ie Weddings, Birthday parties, out of town visitors) over "hey let's get together". But, I have to admit that when I keep cancelling on someone because these 'priority' events come up, my sense of obligation to previously made commitments crops up and starts yelling at me. Because really, unless it's a wedding or god forbid a funeral, if I've got two birthday parties I try to do both, but absolutely feel required to make the one I commited to first.
Thoughts? Opinions?
I think that for me "occasions" have a priority (ie Weddings, Birthday parties, out of town visitors) over "hey let's get together". But, I have to admit that when I keep cancelling on someone because these 'priority' events come up, my sense of obligation to previously made commitments crops up and starts yelling at me. Because really, unless it's a wedding or god forbid a funeral, if I've got two birthday parties I try to do both, but absolutely feel required to make the one I commited to first.
Thoughts? Opinions?
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Card/Gift sending occasions for my father always come right on top of each other. He and his wife have there birthday’s within a week and a half of each other (and Patch). And their anniversary is within a week of Father’s Day.
If I remember, I send my dad a cheesy card. Otherwise I send him a very expensive gift that arrives late. Guilt is an amazing motivator. I think I get that from him.
Anyway, I wrote a beautiful letter to him this year. The original plan was to get a pretty card, write something nice and send it off. The card shop was out of business, so I decided to be classy and write to him on one of my note cards. I ended up writing so much it had to go on an additional sheet of paper. For the sake of posterity, I write it ( below. )
If I remember, I send my dad a cheesy card. Otherwise I send him a very expensive gift that arrives late. Guilt is an amazing motivator. I think I get that from him.
Anyway, I wrote a beautiful letter to him this year. The original plan was to get a pretty card, write something nice and send it off. The card shop was out of business, so I decided to be classy and write to him on one of my note cards. I ended up writing so much it had to go on an additional sheet of paper. For the sake of posterity, I write it ( below. )
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