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The Innocents

October 8, 2007

I seem to be randomly choosing a lot of movies lately that affect me a lot more deeply than I anticipate they will. First it was Ghost World, then, to a slightly lesser extent, Broken Flowers...and yesterday in my quest for a horror film fix, I chose The Innocents from Netflix on demand.

I had no idea that, instead of the usual light horror movie fare, I was going to be transported into a darkly moody black and white portrait of either a sexually repressed woman's descent into madness or the aftermath of the sexual assault of two children...or both.

This movie was a cinematic rorschach test in which spatterings and blots of details were provided, and the viewer was left to apply his or her own experience to fill in the white space. For myself...as a mother, I was pulled in one direction. As the victim of sexual trauma, I was pulled in another. It was gut-wrenching.

From an aesthetic standpoint, it was a gorgeous film. Dream-like black and white sequences, mixed with startling uses of sound and silence. This film was suspenseful and dramatic without any of the formulaic devices used in most suspense and drama movies. I will be looking for this to be shown in a theater at some point...I'd love to see it on a big screen. Although I would probably have to go alone, as I don't know that I could comfortably watch it with another person present.

In the end, I was left thinking about all manner of things both within and outside of the scope of the film. Parenting, obviously, and parenting through trauma. But also, the movie made me really think about how we as adults deal with the lives that were handed to us as children. And how the ghosts of our experiences haunt our adult lives. Do we choose to acknowledge those ghosts or do we choose to pretend they aren't there? And if we choose to acknowledge them, do we force others to acknowledge them as well, or do we allow others - both adult and children - to make those choices as is appropriate for them as individuals.
----------------
Now playing: Joy Division - The Eternal
via FoxyTunes

Posted at 8:13 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Imus

April 10, 2007

I am tired of reading reports about Imus' racist comments that are couched in this language of "black people are angry."

Seriously...what the fuck is up with THIS:

"[Howard Kurtz was quoted on NPR as saying] he thinks Imus is NOT bigoted, and he thinks most listeners understand that, but several major groups of black and women journalists have called on the networks to fire Imus..."

Relegating the offense Imus' racist bullshit inspires to the realm of "women and minorities" is just the same bullshit racism that makes it ok for someone to make the fucking comments in the first place. And what the fuck is up with this "Oh, he's an ass to everyone, therefore it's ok." bullshit? I am going to start walking around and kicking everyone in the shins, and no one better arrest me, because I'm not kicking any one racial/political/cultural/orwhathaveyou group any more than I am another!

Shit fucking A. It is all OVER the media, too, this "Well, what do you have to say to these black leaders" line.

I guess I am just glad I am a woman, and am therefore justified in my anger. Oh, thank you, holy media...for giving me something to be justifiably pissed about!

frickin' frackin' fuckin' a!

Posted at 8:36 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Lessons learned on my vacation

March 26, 2007

I assume this will be added to throughout the week, but here goes...

Lessons I have learned while traveling with the kids:

Necessary Hotel Amenities: indoor pool, in-room refrigerator, in-room coffee maker, television with cable. Beds? Optional. (Coley ended up sleeping on the floor both nights after falling out of the bed the first hour of the first night.)

Kids Eat Free means you have to choose from a very unhealthy menu and you still end up paying for it.

No matter how subtle the incline, if there is grass, the kids will find an excuse to roll around in it.

You actually can skin your face, if you are Coley.

There is nothing cuter than a pair of giant river otters...except maybe a whole mess of penguins.

Evidently, I am attractive to parrots.

Always always always eat a meal before going to the art museum.

Never bring your fragile-egoed 6-year old aspiring artist into a gallery of youth artwork. He WILL fall on the floor and cry about how he will NEVER be that good...and he wants to go home NOW.

If you are at a truck stop rest room, and the boys have to use the bathroom, better to bring them in the ladies room than chew your fingernails while you watch countless seedy-looking men stream into the restroom you just sent your boys into.

No matter how much you spend and how much effort you exert, the boys will talk endlessly about how great the hotel was (and the swimming pool) (and the cable television) and not mention anything else. You can count this as a victory. You did, after all, choose the hotel.

Also, three days after arriving home, when you spend a simple day at the park and get stuck in the rain and your impossible to please 6 year old tells you "This day was more funner than most other days." Don't take it personally. Just smile, and nod in agreement...and muse over his ability to stay in the present.

Posted at 9:31 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

There is no reason for you to hide.

April 8, 2006

The Dirty Three were again my walking companions last night as, after a day of deep thought and an evening of solitude in public spaces, I set about trying to process all of the thoughts that kept popping up throughout it all.

Seeing that myspace page of an ex-boyfriend and that quote by Tish about how we are all just doing the best we can and all of the other external but equally juxtapositional ideas and input I had been receiving all day was making me wonder about where I am, where I want to be, and, I guess, ultimately what is safe for me in terms of rectifying some of the current disharmony in my life.

What got to me about the ex's interpretation of our relationship was not that he felt angry and depressed about the relationship as it was happening. It was a pretty depressing relationship! But that in the ensuing years...all 15 or so of them...he did not once stop to think that perhaps there was something external to him that was driving that depression. And what's ultimately important about that is how it corresponds with the way *I* am living my life now that might be equally blindered and unforgiving of those who have injured me in the past - those who I perhaps feel a legitimate resentment or anger for...and whether or not I need to let go of those feelings.

And that's where we come up against the issue of safety. Because I can honestly analyze my relationship with that particular ex, and I see no reason why it would have been unsafe for him to approach me and attempt to deconstruct that relationship at any time. I had no power over him. I might have been an insane, workaholic, jealous, dissatisfied person, but I wasn't abusive. He was free to leave at any time - we had no ties to bind us together, and in deconstructing things - we have no current ties.

But, really, this has nothing to do whatsoever with that relationship. That person is clearly not interested in approaching the past with an attitude of forgiveness in the interest of self-improvement. In the present, however, I have at least one relationship that hangs in this strange limbo of discommunication. It's an important relationship. Perhaps the most important relationship in my life thus far. And in thinking about grudges and resentment and the power of forgiveness and the concept of "doing the best we can" I couldn't help but think about that relationship. Is it safe for me to untie that box again? What kinds of things might pop out of I do so? And what will remain contained?

I think the thing is that in order to mend those rifts, there needs to be absolute honesty. And how is honesty achieved when there is so much pain and suspicion? Am I capable of it? Is the other person? And, if so, am I capable of trusting the other person to BE honest...or will I just assume it is more of the same power/abuse dynamic that has ruled our relationship for many, many years now - even in silence.

This would be easy to drop if it weren't for other people who are waiting for this to be resolved. People for whom resolution would mean a lot more harmony and happiness in their lives. People for whom I want to set an example of forgiveness and love, but also for whom I do not want to set an example of two people yet again mistreating each other. And it's again...I run up against the issue of safety for myself, as well as for these other people.

So, I'm still thinking about it all. It's like my brain and soul are trying desperately to find the puzzle pieces that will make the picture clearer, and I'm having no success, so I'm staring hard at the picture, missing pieces and all, and trying to figure out what it all means. I don't have the answer. I don't have any of the answers. And yet, somehow...I know I have all of the answers.

Down By The River
Neil Young (as interpreted by the Dirty Three, accompanied by Low - it's an amazing fucking song)

Be on my side,
I'll be on your side,
baby
There is no reason
for you to hide
It's so hard for me
staying here all alone
When you could be
taking me for a ride.

Yeah, she could drag me
over the rainbow,
send me away
Down by the river
I shot my baby
Down by the river,
Dead, oh, shot her dead.

You take my hand,
I'll take your hand
Together we may get away
This much madness
is too much sorrow
It's impossible
to make it today.

Yeah, she could drag me
over the rainbow,
send me away
Down by the river
I shot my baby
Down by the river,
Dead, oh, shot her dead.

Be on my side,
I'll be on your side,
baby
There is no reason
for you to hide
It's so hard for me
staying here all alone
When you could be
taking me for a ride.

Yeah, she could drag me
over the rainbow,
send me away
Down by the river
I shot my baby
Down by the river,
Dead, oh, shot her dead.

Posted at 9:51 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

The origins of things

March 30, 2006

I suddenly find myself nursing the most healthy addiction of all.

Hello, my name is Lainie, and I am addicted to interaction.

Last night, yet again, I walked into my living room, set to give the dog her long-overdue walk. And there was Rachel. Rachel, the wonderful distraction. Rachel, with whom I have spent the past month engaged in some of the most wonderful, revealing, heart-wrending, open, honest discussions. I feel replenished. And I'm sad that she is leaving in a few short days.

So, we talked. Fuck the walk. The dog lay on the couch and sighed and sighed. I felt bad, but, like I said, I'm addicted to interaction.

Also, I have initiated a couple of nice little email exchanges that are very gratifying to me. Email is another vice of mine - only sometimes I feel like I am foisting my emails on people because, well, I *do* go on and on, if encouraged...and sometimes even if not encouraged. I seem to have made at least one friend who loves to send and receive emails, and I am enjoying it a great deal. Silly, sweet, stupid, charming little exchanges several times a day. Yes. Oh yes. It's like a writer's wet dream! Here, you can have this! I wasn't using it anyway! And you are giving me something in return? How nice!

So, anyway, the origins of things. Last night, the conversation with Rachel twisted and turned and convoluted itself right back to the origins of this...thing...I have where I am constantly drawing a certain personality type into my life. Yes. I am familiar - Quite familiar - with my relationship patterns and where they originate. I am also pleased to note that I am recognizing myself in those patterns as I fall into the groove. Soon enough to stay detached from the outcome, and yet, somehow I've managed to not become jaded by my own idiocy.

It's nice. I feel whole. And I feel like I have something genuine to offer to a conversation, rather than glib speculation or advice I read in a book. I also feel fully present, and fully accepting of what is being offered to me in the moment. Knowing how my interactions with my family have effected me in the present, I also feel like I can participate in at least recognizing and acknowledging how those same patterns play out with my children.

Yesterday, I heard Monk talking to Coley in a harsh tone. I walked out, and they were both in tears. Coley had stepped on Monk's hand, and Monk was lecturing Coley about how he NEVER is careful. There was anger and hurt in their tone with each other. Practicing my newfound art of emotion coach, I told Monk that I was sorry that he was hurt, but that I wanted to see him talking to Coley about his feelings in the present, rather than using the words never or always with regard to Coley's behavior (of course, Monk...with a sly smile...tried to say "not ever" instead, but he quickly got that it was the same thing.) And then I asked him "I know you were hurt by Coley, but does it make you feel better to make Coley feel hurt, also?" I was pleased that his answer was no. But he had already carried his lecture to the point where Coley was feeling a bit enraged, so there was a moment where Coley had to compose himself. "Mom," said Monk..".I KNOW that look on his face! He's GOING to hit me!" Monk locked himself in the bathroom while Coley released some anger by yelling, not hitting. And I held Coley for awhile and it only took a moment - long enough for me to say "I know you will feel bad about yourself it you hit someone." and the rage turned to regret and sadness, and Coley was ready to make amends with Monk.

I don't know if I'm conveying it clearly here, because I'm running late for my thingy today, but it was actually a really monumental moment. The boys were both very clear about their feelings, and they both responded so well to being reasoned with, empathized with, and yet still held to a standard of expression that is acceptable. I was so proud of them, and of me.

So, all of this examining. All of this talking, and hashing out. All of my fucking up and trying again and fucking up again and trying again again...it's all got a point. The origins might be disordered and painful, but where it's leading is ordered, free, and totally healthy.

"While looking for the light, you may suddenly be devoured by darkness and find the True Light." - Jack Kerouac

Posted at 6:00 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Healing.

February 27, 2006

I should say that I spent most of Saturday morning in bed crying my eyes out quietly. I say this as my roommates move out. It's releasing a flood of emotion. Not due to anything having really anything to do with them, but having to do with all that I've been holding in as a result of having people sharing this house with me. In a way, it's good - because I do love the Allison family enough to feel OK with having been somewhat of a scared bunny rabbit while they were here. I feel like we can easily enough mend whatever that resulted in. I already am feeling more open to all of them now that they are going. The trick is to maintain that openness and to not fall back again when someone else moves in.

So, anyway, crying my eyes out. What I was doing was remembering a lot of pain. I was fully realizing how much denial I was in during the 3 years I lived here with a silently abusive partner. I was remembering what it caused in my spirit. I remember resigning myself to that. I remember feeling like it didn't really effect me - like I was bullet-proof - as long as I acknowledged that it was reality. Like "as long as I'm aware that this is a fucked up situation, I won't get fucked up by it." Which is sort of like standing on a railroad track, saying "As long as I'm aware that train is coming down the track at me, I won't get fucking smeared by it!" It sounds silly now, but I did it.

I can't explain to anyone what it was like to live in this house for those three years. What I can say is that I understand and accept now what it did to my heart. Around the middle of that time, I decided that love didn't exist. that I could just stay in that situation because all love is painful, so why should I leave behind the familiar pain of the love I had learned to cope with for the minute possibility that I might find love that was slightly less painful?

And, the truth of the matter is that all love IS painful. But not always. It requires a lot, but it gives back whatever you put in. Perhaps not in the same currency, but at least the same value. I'm just now finding my way back to a place where I can extend my love without fear, and it's scary as shit. I'm not just talking about romantic love, I am talking about any kind of relationship that requires/inspires any amount of depth or intimacy. I don't have a roadmap to guide me on my particular journey. I just have to make it up as I go along, and be honest, and insist on integrity and freedom.

I'm not perfect, but I'm trying. I'm putting myself forward. That's the only way out of this place.

Posted at 11:51 AM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Sound system gonna bring me back up...

February 27, 2006

So, I guess I've broken though. There's nothing like anarchism love is free. There's nothing like having/taking time to sit with people and express honestly how you feel about you, them, the universe, and everything - and feel totally heard and totally not reacted to and totally responded to - even if it's painful to some degree. There's nothing like feeling like real love is more than physical bodies colliding. Like there is no such thing as unrequited provided there is honesty and emotion. There is nothing like that. Nothing. I can't feel bad about anything because I have everything I need. And you don't need to feel bad, either...because I can give you everything you want without feeling...unrequited.

and you, too. And you. Thank you.

The trick is to take this practice, and expand it to everyone. Take it beyond the two or three people I feel safe with, and allow myself to really fully love everyone. It is my form of activism. It's also the only way I know how to really live.

Operation Ivy - Sound System

(Chorus)
Sound System gonna bring me back up
One thing that I can depend on.
Try to describe it as a limit of my ability;
It's there for a second
Then it's given up what it used to be.
Contained in music somehow more than just sound,
This inspiration coming and twisting things around
Because you always know that it's gonna have to go.
You always know that you'll be back in the cold.
Point of departure sublimated in a song
It's always coming to give me that hope
for just a second then it's gone but!
(Chorus)
Static pulse inside of music bringing us escape.
It's always temporary, changing nothing in it's wake...
Just a second where we're leaving all this shit behind.
Just a second but it's leaving just this much in mind:
To resist despair, the second makes you see...
To resist despair, because you can't change everything...
To resist despair, in this world is what it is to be free.
(Chorus)
Wake up turn my box on,
Bust the shade, let the sun in.
Times getting tougher 'bout time to start runnin'
Box in my hand music by my side,
Skankin' to the rhythm of the music by my side.

Posted at 11:22 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Private Journal entry, January 21, 2006

February 24, 2006

1/21/2006 9:45 AM

It's funny -
You don't realize
how broken you are
Until you start to heal
And then -
Oh fuck!
I'm so broken!

******

The book I am reading talks about the pre-literate social role of women before the taint (I can't fucking say that word anymore without thinking about the Daily Show Taintstravaganza!) of heirarchical societies. It talks about women as source, not only of life, but of unself-conscious love. Love without the need for reciprocity. Unconditional. Whereas a man's love became rooted in a complex system of procreation (with a spouse) and reward for "right" behavior (with a child &, I guess, a spouse as well.)

Could it be that societies break down when we begin to question whether or not we are lovable - and whether or not others are worthy of our love? Just how much are our interactions with others totally subverted by our membership in civil society?

It makes me frustrated AND it makes me thankful that there seems to be unbounded love in my life. I am thankful for any opportunity to love without fear and to love without condition. I feel like I need to cultivate that - I need to find a way to suffuse that love. An absolute anarchic diffusion of love and appreciation for everyone who is part of my life and the universe at large.

Posted at 2:42 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Growth, Giving Up, and more Growth

February 21, 2006

The great social experiment (which, for those who haven't been following along, is my current living situation in which I am sharing my home with another family of four) is drawing to a close. We went into the situation with the assumption that it would be temporary, so it's not like any of us are ending something that was meant to continue forever, but I do have some thoughts about time limits and limiting times. Some of these thoughts pertain to this living situation, and some do not. So, as a general disclaimer - I should say that none of this has anything to do with any shortcomings of my friends and housemates here. They have been great to share space with. They have helped me so much in so many things. They have also challenged me to grow in really important ways. I have viewed just about every single interaction with them, even the more painful ones, in a very positive way, and I am thankful for having had the opportunity to spend this time in this situation with them. I don't think it would have been nearly as successful as it has been with anyone else. I guess that's not a general disclaimer...that's a very specific disclaimer, but it's sincere.

These days, though, I wonder how much we humans limit ourselves, or put time limits on things in order to avoid adapting or growing to allow change to happen. There was a lot of talk last weekend (at the historians against the war convention) about another world being possible. And I get that. I get that our country...our world, really, has been steeped in war and imperialism from the very beginning...and that so few examples exist of cooperative/collectivist societies that it can seem impossible, idealistic, and unachievable. And broken down into sub-sub-sub-sub worlds, right down to our household units, it doesn't seem any more attainable.

Throughout these 3 co-housing months, I have frequently wanted to read a book about what others have done in similar situations to solve the problems that we have encountered...only to find myself frustrated because THERE IS NO MANUAL. Not because living with another family is so revolutionary that no one has ever done it, and perhaps I just didn't look hard enough...but also because 3 months is such a small little period on the timeline. It's really only enough time to dip our feet in collectivism. Honestly, and this is due to my own neuroses as much or more than anything else...3 months was not enough time for me to overcome the shock of sharing. In order for a true collective household to emerge, we would need more time. A lot more time. (Again, I need to disclaim that the purpose of this cohousing situation was not to form a permanent collectivist arrangement, so this is not due to any shortcomings on the part of any of us in the household.)

The funny thing, and I think I've mentioned this before, is that I'm only beginning to grow used to the living situation, and am starting to adapt in a more healthy way. I wonder how much we humans do that - give ourselves too little time to get over the hump of adaptation, and then pull away. This same thing happened when my friend R came to stay for a few months last year. We had just adapted to being crammed in the same house together - we just got the kitchen dance down - when it was time for her to go. Granted, these situations are self-limited and intended to be so, but they make me think about all of the times I have stopped before I even began - how many things I have quit before I really got started.

Is it really that I just fear success? Can that be the trite explanation to this conundrum? I've often THOUGHT that. I mean, I don't necessarily think it's that I fear the hard work, although that might be true in some cases. It seems like certain situations and relationships require hard work just before they get easier...and even when they get easier the hard work might have to continue throughout the duration. Do we naturally choose situations that will enable maximum growth? And is backing away from those situations a sign of weakness...or wisdom? I'm thinking about this in terms of my current living situation as well as some relationships, potential relationships, and unsuccessful relationships I have had/am having...and perhaps will have. Perhaps it's a combination of reasons.

I find myself pulling away from people sometimes. I call it "taking a break." I can deal with the quirks that make them human and wonderful, but after awhile with some people I just need to get some distance. I guess sometimes this is because I'm avoiding my own growth...but sometimes it's just because I need a fucking break from certain frustrating characteristics.

Another World Is Possible rings in my head. I believe that in my heart, but I wonder how that world is to be achieved. We are all so bound up in our societally-imposed ideas of what it means to relate to one another that even earnest attempts at breaking free can end up isolating us further. To the point where even going out to listen to someone give a talk about revolutionary concepts can result in two of the people I care about most in the world criticizing and complaining about the other people in the room. It gets depressing, you know? I start to get sucked in sometimes, and start to think "Yeah...people really ARE irritating, self-righteous, self-aggrandizing assholes!" But where the fuck does that get me - or anyone else? Certainly not any closer to that other world. But what is the solution? How do we learn to live with one another, whether it be sharing a house, sharing a room at a bookstore, sharing a conference, or sharing the fucking planet? My instinct...and probably yours...is that we start small. It's easy to say "change comes from within" - but what does that really mean? For me, it means learning to better accept what I view as shortcomings in other people. I think I'm on the right track when I :

a) search everyone I know or meet randomly or even just see and find something lovable about them. And focus on that lovable quality above all else. People will always find ways to disappoint me...but I can try even harder to find things about them that I deeply love.

b) notice the qualities in the people I care about that maybe aren't so lovable, and learn to appreciate those qualities for what they are - a part of what makes my loved ones who they are - rather than wishing they would change. Wow. Is this ever a challenge. But since I am not capable of forcing people to change, it's really the only way to fully love the people in my life. Unconditionally.

Sounds easy, right? Ha!

ETA:
You know, another important thing for me to remember is that I am not perfect, and I forgive myself and those around me for perceived imperfections. If I do occasionally make fun of people or situations, or generalize, or allow myself to respond to my fear of failure or shortcomings with regard to certain people, events, or environments...I can't give up on myself entirely! Nor can I give up on those I love when they display the same kind of behavior. Sometimes I need to just hang back, detach a bit, search for those qualities that I love within those around me, and move forward again with the knowledge that we all have blind spots as well as beauty. And immerse myself again.

ETA, again:
You know, another thought I'm having is that I frequently encounter a sort of "negativist peer pressure" that comes from people who are close to one another. Where someone finds something negative to complain about, and everyone sort of riffs on that. I admit, I engage in this and even instigate it at times (actually, fairly frequently)...and it's not that people should never ever do this, because it can be damn fun...but I worry about the habit of finding fault in everything. It's really fucking habit-forming. I've had entire relationships with people that have devolved into streams of sarcastic behavior to the point where honest emotion is never expressed or communicated. Again, Smart-assholitude can be the greatest thing on earth, but we need to strike a balance. I think Bill Hicks does that...he's a good person to study. Just when you start to think "Holy fuck! This man is the most depressing, negative naysayer on the planet!" He starts talking about how we are all one and one with the universe - and somehow that makes it ok. So, I mean, I think I need to examine how this dynamic is at play in my relationships...and I need to remember to bust out with the "I love you becauses" as much or more than I bust out with the silly farting around. And not only in my relationships, but in the world at large, and all of the little scenarios I find myself in within that world.

Posted at 9:29 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Laundromat Revolution!

February 20, 2006

If I were to attempt to instigate a revolution, I would begin at the laundromat. In fact, I wish I had more time today to hang out and talk to the men who were there, talking about hard times and how "Those people in the government need to be told, once and for all, that there's no incentive to work! Making money only forces you to owe more money, and they get it all in the end!" Wow! If that's not the seed of revolution, I don't know what is. And it's all happening at the laundromat.

In fact, when I think about it, what better place? Generally speaking, laundromats are utilized by people who are not property holders and who have limited means. You have to sit there and wait for your clothes, so there is plenty of time to gab and shoot the shit and you are also sort of trapped there to listen to the opposing viewpoints of your neighbors. In such close quarters, civility is a necessity. I think, when my kids are a bit older and more able to do without me here for an hour or so at a time, I might just start hanging out at the laundromat - at least on wet, cloudy days like today where the clothesline is not an option. Maybe I'll just start hanging out there without even doing any laundry. Reading a book and waiting for an opportunity to engage in interesting conversation with my neighbors.

Posted at 8:50 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Thoughts on the weekend...history, social issues, and my mental/emotional state.

February 19, 2006

I spent the weekend at the Historians Against the War convention at UT, which was kicked of ceremoniously with a brilliant keynote one-two of Andrea Smith and Howard Zinn. I thought both of them gave compelling presentations, and I jotted down copious notes in spite of having to deal with really cramped quarters. At some point, I will share my notes from that keynote and from the rest of the event, but I think I really just want to write about my experience of the event in general.

First of all, DAMN, people are impatient. Including myself. The first person who approached the mic for Q&A rambled on a bit about the lovely performance activism she is doing, and within a minute, the audience was telling her to get to the point, in a not very nice way. I felt myself feeling the same way - and it happened multiple times throughout the weekend. By the 3rd or 4th time I really began to grow uncomfortable with the whole method of mob silencing that was happening & I was pleased when some with louder voices would counteract the "Shut up and ask a question" crowd. I wondered, too, why I wasn't the person counteracting, considering I was one person feeling uncomfortable with it. So, one lesson learned at the history conference was that I need to find my voice and use it.

The panels and the speakers throughout the event were informative, intelligent, and remarkable. I did kind of wish there was a way to include dissenting voices among the crowd to get a richer discussion, but in my heart of hearts I knew a) that wasn't really the point of the conference and b) it is rare for that kind of dialog to take place in a non-threatening way - particularly when there are elements of the crowd who find it necessary to silence even the voices of agreement.

At lunchtime, I situated myself in the far corner of the room to avoid all human contact. I guess I'm in that kind of mood lately. I dunno. I sat eating and pretending to write in my journal, but really I was observing everyone. Mr. Zinn was sitting two tables away, facing me...so I laughed to myself about the fact that I was practically eating lunch with one of the greatest historians of our time. I thought about maybe going back to school to study history. And then two nice boys joined me and we talked briefly about last night's speech and education and whatnot. It was a nice, pleasant conversation & allowed me to feel good about the fact that I didn't avoid human contact altogether, in spite of my best efforts to the contrary. Ha!

I was exhausted when I arrived home Saturday night, but I went out to dinner with J anyway. We went to Swad and it was pleasant, but there was dis/ease. I get the feeling it is painful for him to hang out with me, and that painfulness is maybe exacerbated by the fact that it's NOT painful for me. Or maybe he's just in pain in general. I don't know/can't claim that it has anything to do with me at all, but the dosa and chole bhatura and sev potato puri was fabulous, and it was nice to see J as he has been ill for a bit. He even helped me to fix a computer problem I have been having. I couldn't find the R. Kelly videos I told him I was going to make him watch with me, which was kind of a bummer, and he left early in the evening...which was probably good because I was so tired & sort of overwhelmed with being around people.

I was invited to a party, which had been making me nervous all week. The person who invited me is someone who I really enjoy hanging around, and actually would love to go to a party with at some point, because he always makes me feel at ease...but I just have not been feeling the whole "large crowd" thing lately & I was balking. So there was this dynamic of me feeling torn that I wasn't going to get to see my friend, but fairly certain that I would have a crappy time going to a party that was making me feel extra-super wishy washy about giving a definitive answer. I did SAY no to the party several times, but I'm fortunate that my friend is pretty sensitive about how I'm feeling, so even though he heard no, I think he sensed my feelings of hesitation and kept asking (because normally he accepts my boundaries pretty readily, actually, which is why he's so very very dear to me) - but the thing is that in addition to the original party, he was now going to be attending a fucking FRAT party, and all of the reasons for me not wanting to go were suddenly increased 5 million fold & not only that...suddenly the very idea was making me feel upset and agitated. I told my friend I was just going to go to bed, but when I laid down to sleep, I started feeling really upset about the whole party/meat market atmosphere.

I dunno...it started to really get to me that what I look like - and what others look like to me - dictates to such a great extent whether or not we ever really get to know them on a deeper level, whether we are even talking about a relationship level or not. Plus, it made me feel all shaky and weepy to think that going to a party is an exercise in dressing myself up to be judged and evaluated and deemed worthy/unworthy by random strangers in a room. blah! I'm not quite sure what actually precipitated all of this. I can't really say it has anything to do with hanging around in a room full of history nerds all day. And it's not even that I don't feel like I "measure up" or whatever...it's just the very act of feeling like other people are measuring me...in mass quantities...that started to ook me out a bit. Maybe, too, you know...I'm 36 years old! I guess to a certain extent I feel like my friend is inviting his mom out to a party with him, which seems kind of silly.

At any rate, I was able to express these feeling abruptly to my friend and get them out enough to where I was able to actually fall asleep, but it's still bothering me today that I felt so weird about it. Part of me feels totally justified in feeling that way, and part of me is like "Whatever, lady - it's just another background for whatever you experience...why get all bent out of shape." And I wonder if I would have refused to go last month or if I will refuse to go next month or the month after that. I spent much of the day today trying to figure out when I have last been to a party - like a house party of someone I don't know - and I just can't remember. And then I started trying to remember when I have ever actually met anyone worth knowing at a party, and I can't remember that, either...so I don't feel so bad. But, then, I do recall having been to some parties with friends and just enjoying the experience...so maybe that's the key. But, I guess going to a party with a male friend who is scouting for a relationship is probably what was making me feel like it wouldn't be such a good idea.

I dunno. I've already spent way more energy on this than it probably deserves, but I'm just sort of interested in why being asked to a party evoked such a strong, reactive emotional response in me. So I'll probably think about it more, but if anyone out there has any thoughts about that, I'd love to hear them.

Today I woke up late, but managed to only miss the one speaker in the whole event who made me feel impatient and irritated. There were only about 5 people on the 3-hour panel this morning, so there was lots of time for discussion in the end, and I really enjoyed hearing from all of the regular people in the room. One woman mentioned that the closest she has ever been to going to university was attending university conferences & I wanted to stand up and applaud her as she mentioned that it might be good for the panelists to consider that there are lots of people who don't have degress who could benefit from what they are saying. Then the ever-present Carl Webb made the important point that we need to bring this stuff off-campus and share information and solidarity with those who don't ever set foot on campus. I requested more resources for younger children, which is something I'm probably going to write about later, as so much of the historical research and documentation is geared towards high school and up - and even in our very good library, there are still tons and tons of books that teach the kind of history that I have to go back later and say "Oh, by the way, everything in this book is either wrong or told from a perspective that invalidates what really happened."

And now I am home. And it is fucking cold out there. And I have a million bajillion things to do, but I just want to curl up in a little ball under all of my covers and think through all of the events of the week - both educational and emotional - and breathe, and listen to music, and think, and allow myself to feel all of it, and work through all of it, and come out on the other side with some ideas about how to deal with it all.

But first I need to make myself a fucking sandwich, because I am HUNGRY!!!!!!!!

Posted at 12:53 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

co-housing update + other stuff.

January 3, 2006

I have time to grab a quick moment here while the big kids are flying a kite (in the schoolyard) and I have managed to surgically remove coley from my person and encourage him to Play By Himself for a bit. I wanted to give an update on the co-housing situation. I haven't been writing about it because it has actually been going quite swimmingly. My kids have been gone, and I feel like i've been getting a healthy amount of privacy in their absence. Pansy's kids are so unobtrusive and sweetly self-sufficient that there hasn't been any issue with me feeling interrupted. If anything, I feel like I haven't been doing ENOUGH.

We're about to introduce a good deal more structure into our lives and I think that will be a good thing. I always tend to slack off towards the end of the season and begin each new quarter with renewed vigor. Pansy's doing history with the kids...I'm doing a computer class, I think. Math is handled independently. I've got some science curriculum on order from Singapore Math, mostly to give Monk more opportunity to write. We are also still doing Writing Strands 4 times a week or so. I have the kids from the morning until the afternoon & then Pansy and whoever else takes over. Pansy's starting school this semester, so it should be interesting to see how we adapt to that. I'm actually thankful for it. I like the feeling of more clear-cut lines of responsibility. I think it tends to all fall on Pansy's shoulders more than I'm comfortable - often by necessity. But it causes a weird need differential that creeps me out. Plus, I think there's an element of Pansy being the oldest sibling in her family and me being the youngest in mine that, while I am older than her, actually causes a weird dynamic between us sometimes. I feel like it's too easy for me to allow her to do too much. Now I've had plenty of time to myself. I've taken good care of myself, and I'm ready to contribute fully to the community here.

So, that's it. We all had a great holiday, I think. I know I did. I'm ready to start up work again today. I feel fresh. I spent my last night of freedom (not really, but drama can be fun!) at a movie - Brokeback Mountain, which I will write about later. My birthday is Thursday. Thursday. Thursday. And I am giving myself a special treat this coming weekend while the kids are at their dad's house.

I've set an artistic goal for myself to have a book self-published by the end of the year. I am going to hit all of you up to buy it, so start saving up now! I've been really happy with my writing these past couple of weeks, and I've been looking back and finding a lot of stuff that is easily edited for publication. The hardest part will be deciding what goes and what doesn't, but I suppose I can always write more books.

I think I'm going to try to take a road trip up to Chicago with the kiddos in the spring. It depends on work. I have been taking the holidays off a lot, and I don't want to assume that I can get them off at that time, especially since I'm really hoping that I can drag a co-worker along with me for the ride & it really won't be the same without this person.

Anyway, I hear Coley looking up, wondering where I am. He's in need of lots of love today - having just come home from his dad's. They are both all cute and full and happy and somehow bigger and broader. It's nice. It seems like the time away was good for them, even if they did miss me. Monk even let me hug and kiss him. Coley, of course, insisted on it.

I hope everyone is doing well.

Posted at 12:23 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when

December 9, 2005

I became suddenly inundated with long awaited reimbursements yesterday so, feeling rich, I took my housemate out to see the Johnny Cash Movie at the Alamo Drafthouse.

There have been a lot of conversations around here lately about the men I meet and my propensity to become enamored of depressed, morose, or otherwise dysfuntional men. Our propensity, I should say, as women. What Pansy and I can't figure out is if men are just destined to be that way...or what?

The movie only fed our discontent. Like many folks, I worship at the altar of Johnny Cash. I think he was a great musician and probably a great man, but watching an entire movie about a woman who saves a man and they went on to live happily ever after...when (according to Pansy, because I don't normally keep track of such things) the rocky road was just beginning, was incredibly frustrating. The entire movie, while wonderful, touching, beautiful, and gorgeous, can be summed up with one line:

Things don't just work themselves out...other people work things out, and you just think they work themselves out.

And, truly, this is the crux of the problem between men and women in my experience. Pansy had said earlier in the day that "Men do what they want to, and women do what they have to." - which is totally in the same spirit. Why are women so freaking wise and men so fucking adorably bumbling? And why is it that I can see that so clearly and yet still be attracted to bumbling doofus men?

Because, watching the movie...I was in love with Johnny Cash, too. I wanted to save him. I wanted to see him get well, and reach his potential. And I'm glad that it appears Johnny understood how very much June meant to him, and perhaps he even knew how much his very life, not to mention his fame and good name was due in large part to the women in his life who tolerated, supported, inspired, and lifted him...but do WE understand that? Not just about Johnny, and not just about men, even, but about society in general? How many women quietly do what needs to get done, while the men in their lives do what they want to? How many women stand by, leaving their desires unfulfilled while the men in their lives accomplish great things, or mediocrity...or nothing at all? How many women are out there making things work out, and making it look so easy that the men of the world can stand by thinking things "just work themselves out"? I know several, just off the top of my head.*

* Including fathers who decide not to exercise their right of visitation due to the weather, and then have the fucking audacity to turn around and try to make the mother feel like she's somehow turning the children against him...but that's another post entirely.

Posted at 9:35 AM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

What we do.

October 10, 2005

I can't stop thinking about it.

I was driving, and about to turn on the little road that runs past the mall. And, suddenly, there's an SUV bouncing over the median and running right into the streetlamp on the side of the road. It was surreal enough to see - the fucking thing seemed to come out of nowhere. I was far enough away to observe it without fear, but close enough to be startled by it.

As I was wondering..."What the..." a woman stumbled out of the driver's side door. The front of the truck had rammed into the streetlamp, causing the hood to crumple and the lamp to fall over the top of the vehicle. Grey smoke was coming out from under the hood. I know cars don't generally explode, but I was concerned that it might at least catch on fire. I turned down the road to make sure she was going to be OK. It appeared that several other people who were closer to her than me had the same idea. The woman stumbed out & it was unclear whether she was drunk before she ran her car into a streetlamp or whether the impact had made her woozy, but she was clearly stumbling. She walked to the back of the truck and grabbed the top of the streetlight and attempted to pull it off of the vehicle and re-right it, holding her hand to the side of the truck to steady herself.

It was such a bizarre activity for her to engage in. Just...trying to right something that had been wronged. Making sense of the situation. The order of importance was jarring. And the strangely congruous incongruity of that small act is still vivid in my mind, and has played itself out all day. Perhaps because as I watched I was thinking about live wires - worried. Not sure how to stop her from attempting to create order in that situation, but concerned that the attempt to do so would cause still more trouble.

Posted at 10:28 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Navel Gazing (or relationships, isolation, community, and sex)

October 8, 2005

I just realized something important about who I am and what I need. Perhaps it's a result of the Kurt Vonnegut interview on Now last night, where he stated point-blank that the purpose of life is "farting around" and that people need to form gangs (because the end of the world (as we know it) is coming, and the nuclear family is a shitty way to prepare for this cataclysm...instead we need extended families either of blood or invention.

Listen, I know that might sound a bit kooky. David Brancaccio (swooooon) had that sort of bored look of condescenscion on his face throughout the interview (which, admittedly, he almost always has. He's such a damn journalist. Sometimes, though, that bored look of condescenscion really works for him...so I'm not going to complain too bitterly about it)...but I think Mr. Vonnegut is correct. And even if he isn't...wouldn't it be fun to be in a gang? Certainly more fun than the isolation of every day life. And by isolation, I don't mean absolutely alone, but ostensibly stranded on the island of family.

It occurred to me this morning that I wasn't always so isolated, and I wondered what it was that changed it. I have lived my entire life as a quiet observer of others, and there were several years there where I was starved for that. When were those years?

Fuck, I think to myself. My abusive relationship with L strikes again - and takes on another angle. It all started with L. And I hate to blame L for all of my problems, but holy fuck, it's true that from the beginning of my relationship with him, my close friends were, one by one, alienated. He would tell me they weren't good enough for me. That I shouldn't be cleaning up after them. That I shouldn't be picking them up when they didn't have rides. To top it off, he picked a fight with one of them that almost came to blows & that was the end of that - I knew where my loyalties lie. Besides, I was pregnant.

OK, so I don't want to go into the boring play-by-play of my life with L. But this explains a lot. It explains a lot of my unnamed frustration and jealousy in my relationship with him. It names a lot of my dissatisfaction. It exacerbated the already acute feelings of isolation I carry with me just by virtue of being me. And, yes, it can be argued that it, at times, turned me into a jealous bitch. By the time we had had Monk, I was the band mom...not in a good way. The other band members would come by and drop their kid off for me to watch while they all practiced. I was never asked. I was never invited to hang out with them. I was the chick in the other room with the kids. My role was made to expand to suit them, without thought of the sacrifice. I never realized how painful that was to me...to have people crawling all over my house but feel like I could not observe and participate. I always just thought I was being unnecessarily bitter, and inappropriately bitchy. Now I realize I wasn't bitter and bitchy ENOUGH. Fuck me and my damn inability to take a fucking stand.

One day, a different band, Monk was asleep and I joined L and the other guy in the back room after practice. I sat in the circle with them, but outside of their reality. I felt good, though. I was cracking jokes & the other guy was laughing. I watched their interactions - L's and this guy. I loved it when they were together because they were like brothers, from what little I observed. L, too, was always isolated from people due to his own self-imposed barriers. I used to love it so when he was with people who allowed him to let his guard down. He was always such a beautiful person when he let his guard down. It was rare, but it was incredible to observe.

So, I'm back there cracking wise and being open to life and love and feeling really good about things. And then the other guy left & L turned...and turned to me and accused me, raspily, of hitting on his friend. He accused me of being obvious and easy and embarrassing. He said his friend was just being polite by including me in the banter, but that I had made him so uncomfortable.

And I shrank. It was so easy to make me shrink then. It's easy to make someone shrink when that someone is not sure what it is that makes them big again. I shrank, visibly, it seemed. I am pretty sure I walked out of the room in silence. There were probably tears. Why would I hit on L's friend? At that point, I was still so totally in love with L that there would have been no point. I was just dying to be included, not only in L's life...but in life in general.

That's what I realized this morning. Maude, for the first time! How stupid am I? All of those years of hearing verbally and non-verbally about all of the sacrifices that L made when we had a child together, I never had time to think about what I sacrificed. Working full-time so many hours out of the day that I barely had time to see my baby, much less my husband, much, much less any sort of observable community. I sacrificed the things that made me who I am. And there was no room in the relationship to give voice to that.

I will say one thing, though. When I had community - I didn't recognize it for what it was. I certainly didn't appreciate it. We were just people out having fun. I had no idea that it was significant. So I never really fought for it. I just dutifully played the role I felt I was meant to play, as mother and provider and, now, abused and meek spouse.

And I can't blame L entirely. Before I met him, I had wandered around disconnected for some time. Isolation in the form of a move to Lubbock Texas, after so much trauma in Chicago. But at least at that point in my life I had the zine, I had friends via letters, I had long-distance community.

And I can't say it ended with L, either. In the midst of refinding a joyous community among the rubble of my confidence, I stumbled into another relationship which, unbeknownst to me at the time, was a pretty trap. And I realized that no matter how much freedom you are given in a relationship, if the other person in the relationship prefers isolation, isolation will rule the relationship, for me anyway, to a frustrating degree. Because participation in a lively community is not something one can do without one's partner. In fact, the very heart of my feelings of isolation is my need to share the beauty and joy of the world with everyone I know. That's sort of difficult to do when the person you are attempting to share it with sees no beauty or joy in community. And it's almost impossible to do when that person would rather stay in and watch a movie and have sex than do anything remotely life-affirming. Granted, sex can be incredibly life-affirming, but only to a point. After awhile, even the sex can be isolating. If you think about it (and I'll get to this later) sex can be the most isolating act of all.

So I woke up this morning with all of these realizations. Now what am I going to do about it? Well, for one, I'm in a self-imposed semi-isolation period these next few weeks - preparing for Pansy and her family to move in here. There is much to do and much to think about that requires me being here without much outside interaction & that's fine. In the month of November, the kids will be at their dad's house a lot (every weekend) and that will be my time to go out among people. The hard part is my nature. I am terribly shy. My friendships tend to grow, amoeba-like, out of themselves. In fact, I'm thinking about 2 or 3 of my closest friends in Austin, and they are people I met through other people. But even if I'm sitting by myself somewhere, I'm out and I'm observing, and that's what I like to do best of all.

I really think the key for me right now is to not get involved romantically with anyone. For whatever reason, this tends to make me feel more isolated. I was actually delighted to hear a gay priest interviewed on Fresh Air put this theory I have to words. He was talking about the reasons for celibacy. How being celibate enables him to love more people more fully. That's a very rote summary of what he said, but I find it to be true in my life. Sex complicates things for me. It was partially because of my insistence on not having sex when I was younger that I formed some of my closest relationships. I don't think I will ever be able to recreate the exact atmosphere in which those relationships were formed & I don't think I can (nor do I desire) to live without sex for the rest of my life...but I think it would be better for me if I just excluded it for a bit and allowed myself to fall in love with everything and everyone. No strings attached.

Let's Panic Later
The Ex

It's in your face, you gotta go
but don't do things that would make me cry
if you feel an urge, have a go
but I don't wanna hear your reasons why
all I see is your face
is the shape of things that tears replace
it's in your face you gotta go
just don't do things tht would make you cry

It's a ratrace go go go
every step meand a bigger wall
there's no u-turn signs ahead
for to rise thou shalt not fall

You're way beyond the 9-5
you thought you had a life?
well, you've had your 1 sec rest
it seems you passed the test

Which clock to beat is next
there's another phone to catch
time flies in a traffic jam
giving way to a dead end stretch

Don't stop if you want it all
be deaf for the burn-out call
but there's more that to live a lie
take breat, make room to sigh

Everything is getting faster
is it going anywhere...

It's a fastlane life
once you live it like a car
one day you're running out of gas
well, did it get you very far...

It's the age of aging
it's the age of aging
I'm not afraid of age and
not afraid of aging

And the carousel's cruising for another ride
guess who sits upfront, it's mr. make-it-mine
he puts another dime in your slotmachine
bt the jackpot hits you,
it's not the other way round

Everything is going fast
is it going anywhere...

Slowly I realized that it dawned on me
the younger you are, the more you wanna be
but living it fast? a thing from the past
any kind of age has ways to set you free
But it's not greed, or sleek behaviour
just do your own thing, you can always panic later
don't get stuck in the rut of that human car
now maybe I am pushing it,
am I pushing it too far?

It's the age of aging
I'm not afraid of age, end.

Posted at 8:31 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

The origins of things.

October 4, 2005

I relearned a valuable lesson today. There was a tearful moment at the breakfast table which resulted in several conversations and culminated in storytelling and discussion & during this entire process I was reminded of something that I stupidly forget over and over and over again & that is that it doesn't matter "who started it."

Because, really, the origins of things tend to run fairly deep, and when you unwind the twisted tangle of blame you ultimately end up where you started...which is usually inside of yourself.

Go figure.

Posted at 12:59 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

Gratitude

August 7, 2005

Things I am grateful for today, in no particular order:

Camper Van Beethoven
Finding two shirts and two pairs of shorts on clearance for WAY cheap at Target
A. New. Bra.
Susan and our cooking date tonight.
A boyfriend who brings me beer and watches me get drunk for the first time ever, giving me cute advice along the way, and doesn't totally make fun of me...even thought I'm a giggly, goofy mess no matter what intoxicant I choose.
Feeling like I can finally remember the good parts about my relationship with L, even though it makes me sad.
A check from the IRS.
New Mexico Vacation.
The Bitch Masculinity issue.
Coffee.
Sunday mornings.
Love.
Waking up with the lyrics to this flux song in my head:

Same children playing revolution in the park
Same old ideas stumbling about in the dark
Same two sticks together create a spark
Same people standing alone naked and stark

And I cling desperately to my last two beliefs
Firstly: I believe nothing and in nothing
Secondly: I believe everything and in everything
Together I attempt to navigate my way
all around me refuse to change
but not the world
Every expression of my love
Seems to wound

Martyrdom offers nothing
I love this world and my life upon it
I grasp the hand of happiness, whenever it is offered
More not than often
these distorted visions
Represented ideas
Having lost their tongues
They no longer speak to me.

(specifically, I was thinking about the phrasing in bold, but I thought I would type more in to give it context.)

ETA: I forgot...also, this post at Uffish. Chris, you fucking rock! I can't seem to comment on your site, but I have similar journals from my pre/pubescent years.

Posted at 8:00 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Cursed bicycle

June 19, 2003

Yesterday, I don't know if it was apparent...but I was having a pretty bad day. c woke me up WAY too early, I was tired and grouchy and I had a headache (probably caffeine withdrawal) all day.

So I took the kids to Wheatsville Food Co-op to get some breakfast and some sandwich fixings for lunch, because there was no way I was going to cook anything for them (mostly because just about every dish in the house is dirty right now).

Wheatsville with cy is a challenge. The child wants to touch everything and he has his own agenda for whether or not he's going to listen to me at any given point in time. He's awesome in the shopping cart, but allowing him to run free is a total test of my patience. So I chased himup and down the aisles and somehow managed to order us some food at the deli, and everything else that needed to be accomplished there.

Then I left c's taco at the deli accidentally when I went to pay, so I had to run back and get it. And I paid for our food and went outside.

m led the way to the table, and there was a bicycle carelessly parked, blocking the way to the patio. m managed to knock it over, and I had my hands full, so while I was making my way to the table to put the food down, c got his foot caught in the spokes of one of the wheels.

I was cursing the owner of the bicycle under my breath as I righted it, and, as I'm fairly neurotic about such things, I put the bike back in as close to the same position as we found it as possible. It would have been much better if I had put the bike in a position that made it more convenient for people to pass through, because just after I finished putting it back up, a lady came out of wheatsville, had to do some crazy contortion to get past it, and she was kind enough to move it to the side.

Shortly thereafter, the owner of the bike came out, hopped onto it, started riding off, and proceeded to completely wipe out right in front of us. Stupid cursed bike.

Oh, and right after that, the cashier came out to hand me my cash card, which I had left on the counter.

*sigh*

Posted at 9:43 AM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

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The Innocents

October 8, 2007

Imus

April 10, 2007

Lessons learned on my vacation

March 26, 2007

There is no reason for you to hide.

April 8, 2006

The origins of things

March 30, 2006

Healing.

February 27, 2006

Sound system gonna bring me back up...

February 27, 2006

Private Journal entry, January 21, 2006

February 24, 2006

Growth, Giving Up, and more Growth

February 21, 2006

Laundromat Revolution!

February 20, 2006

Thoughts on the weekend...history, social issues, and my mental/emotional state.

February 19, 2006

co-housing update + other stuff.

January 3, 2006

I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when

December 9, 2005

What we do.

October 10, 2005

Navel Gazing (or relationships, isolation, community, and sex)

October 8, 2005

The origins of things.

October 4, 2005

Gratitude

August 7, 2005

Cursed bicycle

June 19, 2003