[Fever Ray, 'Seven']
This is the first day I've had off in ages. Well, by off I mean I took a final exam in Organic Chemistry first. Then I met S and got to play with a puppy and see CG (all three= very cute), which was so much fun. S grounds me so much. Perfect start.
Then, I rushed back to my house to be picked up by GZ. I met GZ on Monday when I went swimming at the Y-- he's a lifeguard. As soon as I walked into the pool room I could see he was attracted to me. As I was swimming (head out of the pool, not concerned with speed) he asked me if I wanted some goggles, and then proceeded to give me a swim lesson. By the end of the time I was there I was much faster, and then he asked for my number. So today we were on a seven hour date (this seems to be a common theme. I do very long dates-- this used to happen with Ju, too.) Teavana (yum. love tea.) then Farmer's market for food (also yum) and then walking around Decatur and the graveyard (making out where J and I never did) and talking. It was pretty cool. He's awesome, but I have a few reservations already. I'm not going to judge him on them yet, though. a) He's a little young. I know, it's just a number. b) Some of the things he says seems like they are edited so I'll like him more-- this is part of the reason a) is an issue, actually, because I feel like that's more of an immature/unsure who you are-type thing to do. c) He doesn't seem like he'd be able to deal with all of the aspects of me-- I mentioned the queerness, and he seemed ok with it, but not entirely comfortable... I'll probe that a bit more. I suppose as a straight cis male hearing that from someone you want to date is a little confusing, so I give him props for handling as he did. He also handled my mentioning of my ED very well. (I don't usually spring these things on first dates, but it was 7 hours long. After a couple of hours it amounts to the second or third dates of "normal length".) We have plans to go night-swimming at a private pool he used to look after, but not definite as to when.
Speaking of plans, I have plans with S and CG for the 4th! Possibly the most exciting week in a while.
Speaking of exciting, today is the third day that I have honest-to-goodness been eating healthily-- by which I mean eating when I am hungry, and just enough. And it feels amazing. I feel like I am in a really good place. The only thing is both Monday night and tonight I had to go back and eat more dinner after I'd eaten with my family, because I felt light-headed and/or cranky and knew that I was way under 1100 kcals. [I really do not want to starve myself. No.] Tomorrow (or Friday, maybe) my brother is coming over for his birthday dinner and there will be peach cobbler, but I don't feel that worried about it. I feel so good about it. Go me!
Now all I need to do is talk to the cute guy in my program, ace semester 2 of organic chem, and ace the MCAT. Piece of cake, right? Life does seem a little more manageable today.
Woah. Major league exhaustion. Bed is a good idea.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
today I...
-Goofed off
-wrote a letter to my future self
-danced around like a fool
-did a bit of studying, but not nearly enough for the final on Wednesday (or the mock tomorrow! eek.)
-resolved to do the same things I always do, but in a slightly different way, so it'll work this time (I just re-wrote that sentence so many times it's not funny, each saying something along the lines of 'I think/ am pretty sure/hope it'll work, etc. but I wanted something more definitively positive. I don't need to set my self up for failure.)
-goofed off some more. I might actually try to get more studying done, now.
-wrote a letter to my future self
-danced around like a fool
-did a bit of studying, but not nearly enough for the final on Wednesday (or the mock tomorrow! eek.)
-resolved to do the same things I always do, but in a slightly different way, so it'll work this time (I just re-wrote that sentence so many times it's not funny, each saying something along the lines of 'I think/ am pretty sure/hope it'll work, etc. but I wanted something more definitively positive. I don't need to set my self up for failure.)
-goofed off some more. I might actually try to get more studying done, now.
Friday, June 19, 2009
I was born to laugh
[I learned to laugh through my tears-- "Born", by Over the Rhine: thanks to Mr. Sexsmith at Sugarbutch for this one]
This has been a challenging week. We started that actual hard part of Organic (memorizing amazing amounts of reactions and trying to create pathways for synthesis with very little time to process), and JB finally gathered his kahunas and told me that he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. To be honest, we'd had this discussion before via Facebook, and I could kind of instinctively sense it when I saw him, but just marked it down to British hesitance about PDA. Even Sunday, before he'd said anything, S asked me about whether he reciprocated, and I hesitated. Nonetheless, I can't pretend I was all right with it. Most of all, though, I was upset by how he pretended-- lying to me, and betraying his inner feelings-- that is what gets me more than the lack of feelings. I can completely get if feelings are not there (in fact, Sunday I 'broke up' with SJ. I didn't explain that I don't have feelings for him, though. He was taking it hard enough, and I'm not completely heartless.) But I never expecting anything to happen when I went back (hum. perhaps because we'd had that very talk before, albeit a long time ago?) Thankfully, though, I went over all this with him (I'm not sure if he understands how sad it makes me that he can't be true to himself, though.) So I've been hurting. I took off the Mickey Mouse ring I've been wearing on my thumb since I left England two years ago (I wore it upside down, since I hate Mickey Mouse, so that it looked like little monsters or even water molecules.) The skin under it is old-- so pale, and wrinkly. Vulnerable. I didn't even wear it as an emblem of whatever relationship we had, but I couldn't go on looking at it on Monday, so I pulled it off. Now, I think that I'm going to keep it off not so much because he hurt me, but more because I couldn't go on wearing a Mickey Mouse ring forever. It's time to grow up a little bit, like when I decided to stop wearing my pacifier-charm necklace.
The way I've been thinking in the last few days, though, has been surprisingly good. I've been thankful for the little things, like walking home at 9:00 from my MCAT prep class and being able to see fireflies all over my garden. Or sitting on the front porch steps in the sun, eating a peach and letting the juice slide down my wrist and under my watch, enjoying the way I twist my arm to lick the drops off. The way my arms feel in the water when I'm swimming. The neatness of my writing, and the way an organic synthesis problem comes together like a puzzle.
I've been thinking about how if I really felt all that strongly about JB if I would feel this good. It's kind of a lightness, a freedom... the thought struck me the other day: I'm done with all my Js. JF and JB are still my friends, despite hurt on either end, SJ probably won't speak to me again unless I see him or seek him out (doubtful), J is involved in his crazy life in sf, Ju never wrote back when I sent him an email explaining our break up also involved my queerness... No more Js. I'm liberated (not that I ever felt trapped, except perhaps a bit with SJ or Ju, and those issues have been dealt with.) So I got to wondering about my propensity to get infatuated with people. I've learned not to say that I love someone, since I recognize my somewhat mercurial nature. Every time I think I might possibly be starting to fall in love, something happens that lets me know that it wasn't that. Man, just today I remembered in high school saying that I thought I was in love with IR. Lord, what a fool I was. What I'm getting at is that this is not a new pattern. There's a cute guy in the new group of post-baccs, and I'm trying hard not to get too caught up and start getting obsessed with him because it might make things seem easier. He is pretty cute, though, and yesterday I saw him biking home while I was waiting at the crossroads to go to my MCAT class. (He makes me blush. Funny how sometimes I can be so flirty and out there [CM comes to mind, or AS, or AB. I really am a flirt.] and other times I can be so incredibly shy.) Achem. I'm getting side-tracked. My point is I'm very good at fooling myself. Funnily enough, though I still have every faith that one day I'll be madly in love. For a long time. We'll see.
This has been a challenging week. We started that actual hard part of Organic (memorizing amazing amounts of reactions and trying to create pathways for synthesis with very little time to process), and JB finally gathered his kahunas and told me that he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. To be honest, we'd had this discussion before via Facebook, and I could kind of instinctively sense it when I saw him, but just marked it down to British hesitance about PDA. Even Sunday, before he'd said anything, S asked me about whether he reciprocated, and I hesitated. Nonetheless, I can't pretend I was all right with it. Most of all, though, I was upset by how he pretended-- lying to me, and betraying his inner feelings-- that is what gets me more than the lack of feelings. I can completely get if feelings are not there (in fact, Sunday I 'broke up' with SJ. I didn't explain that I don't have feelings for him, though. He was taking it hard enough, and I'm not completely heartless.) But I never expecting anything to happen when I went back (hum. perhaps because we'd had that very talk before, albeit a long time ago?) Thankfully, though, I went over all this with him (I'm not sure if he understands how sad it makes me that he can't be true to himself, though.) So I've been hurting. I took off the Mickey Mouse ring I've been wearing on my thumb since I left England two years ago (I wore it upside down, since I hate Mickey Mouse, so that it looked like little monsters or even water molecules.) The skin under it is old-- so pale, and wrinkly. Vulnerable. I didn't even wear it as an emblem of whatever relationship we had, but I couldn't go on looking at it on Monday, so I pulled it off. Now, I think that I'm going to keep it off not so much because he hurt me, but more because I couldn't go on wearing a Mickey Mouse ring forever. It's time to grow up a little bit, like when I decided to stop wearing my pacifier-charm necklace.
The way I've been thinking in the last few days, though, has been surprisingly good. I've been thankful for the little things, like walking home at 9:00 from my MCAT prep class and being able to see fireflies all over my garden. Or sitting on the front porch steps in the sun, eating a peach and letting the juice slide down my wrist and under my watch, enjoying the way I twist my arm to lick the drops off. The way my arms feel in the water when I'm swimming. The neatness of my writing, and the way an organic synthesis problem comes together like a puzzle.
I've been thinking about how if I really felt all that strongly about JB if I would feel this good. It's kind of a lightness, a freedom... the thought struck me the other day: I'm done with all my Js. JF and JB are still my friends, despite hurt on either end, SJ probably won't speak to me again unless I see him or seek him out (doubtful), J is involved in his crazy life in sf, Ju never wrote back when I sent him an email explaining our break up also involved my queerness... No more Js. I'm liberated (not that I ever felt trapped, except perhaps a bit with SJ or Ju, and those issues have been dealt with.) So I got to wondering about my propensity to get infatuated with people. I've learned not to say that I love someone, since I recognize my somewhat mercurial nature. Every time I think I might possibly be starting to fall in love, something happens that lets me know that it wasn't that. Man, just today I remembered in high school saying that I thought I was in love with IR. Lord, what a fool I was. What I'm getting at is that this is not a new pattern. There's a cute guy in the new group of post-baccs, and I'm trying hard not to get too caught up and start getting obsessed with him because it might make things seem easier. He is pretty cute, though, and yesterday I saw him biking home while I was waiting at the crossroads to go to my MCAT class. (He makes me blush. Funny how sometimes I can be so flirty and out there [CM comes to mind, or AS, or AB. I really am a flirt.] and other times I can be so incredibly shy.) Achem. I'm getting side-tracked. My point is I'm very good at fooling myself. Funnily enough, though I still have every faith that one day I'll be madly in love. For a long time. We'll see.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Things I am: A Stress Blip, and Emotionally Messed Up
What's new, right? Right.
Life these days consists of: (weekday) wake up, study, eat, go to school, study, eat, study, eat, go to MCAT prep class, eat, study, sleep. Repeat. The weekend is not that much of a deviation, actually, just more disordered eating because I'm in my house more, and less structured study.
On the subject of eating: I was doing really badly when I first got back from Europe. I'm still not doing well, but I have improved. I also found out that the supposed laxatives I was taking weren't actual laxatives, which makes me feel simultaneously relieved and disappointed. I am feeling pretty good about my body notwithstanding the way I have been treating it, possibly because I know I don't really have time to remedy the maltreatment.
Study-wise: Organic Chem would be fun if I wasn't doing in the summer, specifically this summer. MCAT prep and Orgo at the same time, all condensed like this, is not conducive to avoiding burnout. Nope. Add onto this the stress of trying to figure out what schools I want to go to, how I'm going to fulfill all of the requirements of clinical experience and shadowing before I apply, etc. and I'm pretty much at my wits end. If I have any wits about me, that is.
Emotionally, I am fucked. I am so over doing anything with SJ, I am torn by not hearing from JB, and the attention-whore part of me wants to hear from CM (I don't honestly think that anything would come from it, I just would like to clarify some things.) I miss J, but wonder how I would feel if I saw him again. I got a pretty cute admission of fancying from VE, but I don't think anything is going to come from that, and if it did it would me just messing her around more than she deserves. I do that a lot. I am done with romantic love for a good while, I think. I'll stick to some good old friend-love (and no, not the kind of friend-lovin' I know I've done in the past.) I don't have time for it anyway.
Right, break over. Time to get back to studying.
Life these days consists of: (weekday) wake up, study, eat, go to school, study, eat, study, eat, go to MCAT prep class, eat, study, sleep. Repeat. The weekend is not that much of a deviation, actually, just more disordered eating because I'm in my house more, and less structured study.
On the subject of eating: I was doing really badly when I first got back from Europe. I'm still not doing well, but I have improved. I also found out that the supposed laxatives I was taking weren't actual laxatives, which makes me feel simultaneously relieved and disappointed. I am feeling pretty good about my body notwithstanding the way I have been treating it, possibly because I know I don't really have time to remedy the maltreatment.
Study-wise: Organic Chem would be fun if I wasn't doing in the summer, specifically this summer. MCAT prep and Orgo at the same time, all condensed like this, is not conducive to avoiding burnout. Nope. Add onto this the stress of trying to figure out what schools I want to go to, how I'm going to fulfill all of the requirements of clinical experience and shadowing before I apply, etc. and I'm pretty much at my wits end. If I have any wits about me, that is.
Emotionally, I am fucked. I am so over doing anything with SJ, I am torn by not hearing from JB, and the attention-whore part of me wants to hear from CM (I don't honestly think that anything would come from it, I just would like to clarify some things.) I miss J, but wonder how I would feel if I saw him again. I got a pretty cute admission of fancying from VE, but I don't think anything is going to come from that, and if it did it would me just messing her around more than she deserves. I do that a lot. I am done with romantic love for a good while, I think. I'll stick to some good old friend-love (and no, not the kind of friend-lovin' I know I've done in the past.) I don't have time for it anyway.
Right, break over. Time to get back to studying.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
kvetch, kvetch, kvetch
is all I can seem to do today. Organic chem since 8:30 (well, actually since 7, since I got up early to work on it) until 3, then a diagnostic for the MCAT from 6-10. The only good part about my day was I went for a run.
Then I stuffed my face with trail mix and have again abused the laxatives. It seems 'recovery' is not part of the picture right this moment.
Then I stuffed my face with trail mix and have again abused the laxatives. It seems 'recovery' is not part of the picture right this moment.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
The problem with me
is [my] problem with you (not the actual lyrics, adapted from the Buddy Peace remix of Her Space Holiday's 'Something to do with my hands.)
I am a stress blip.
I don't want to be back in the States, and while I don't mind doing Organic Chemistry (in fact, I'm rather enjoying it) I would like a two-second breather. Alas, that is not so, and I have to dive head-first into an 8-week intensive course while I am depressed and jet lagged.
I am very lonely right now. SJ thinks he can remedy this, but in actuality it's just a distraction. It's not something that can be cured, unless maybe I go back to the UK, and even then I know it wouldn't be remedied because a certain someone doesn't ever take what's in front of him. *sigh* If only it were possible to test.
So I've been eating more than I can possibly handle (over by more than I have been in years, and no time to exercise) and to make matters worse I've been mis-using the laxatives that I had to get on my trip to help out my digestion. I know. I know. But I'm still doing it.
The two things I need above all, besides the time to do everything I need to: sleep and love (preferably in the form of hugs. Or even just a short note.)
*sad emo face*
I am a stress blip.
I don't want to be back in the States, and while I don't mind doing Organic Chemistry (in fact, I'm rather enjoying it) I would like a two-second breather. Alas, that is not so, and I have to dive head-first into an 8-week intensive course while I am depressed and jet lagged.
I am very lonely right now. SJ thinks he can remedy this, but in actuality it's just a distraction. It's not something that can be cured, unless maybe I go back to the UK, and even then I know it wouldn't be remedied because a certain someone doesn't ever take what's in front of him. *sigh* If only it were possible to test.
So I've been eating more than I can possibly handle (over by more than I have been in years, and no time to exercise) and to make matters worse I've been mis-using the laxatives that I had to get on my trip to help out my digestion. I know. I know. But I'm still doing it.
The two things I need above all, besides the time to do everything I need to: sleep and love (preferably in the form of hugs. Or even just a short note.)
*sad emo face*
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Oh, the familiarity
This is a pretty close approximation to how I've been feeling of late: http://whenorif.wordpress.com/2009/06/01/i-dont-blame-you/
Saturday, May 30, 2009
So tired/ tired of waiting/ tired of waiting for you
(That's Green Day, that is.)
So, back in the realm of interweb connection after a week out in the middle of nowhere, with only one quick phone call all week (purely to wish a happy birthday to AB.)
Ended up telling JF about AB making out stuff, he was injured and still is-- and not talking to AB, which makes me guilty. I feel bad about it, but he doesn't really have much right to be fucked off with me about it, since I'm not going out with him anymore and he's a hipocritical bastard, since he went out with AB's ex with no qualms ages ago. So I'm just leaving it. If he doesn't forgive me, so be it.
Time in London was awesome and heart-wrenching. I saw loads of people I love, discovered bits of the city I'd never seen before, got drawn in a park, cried, sighed, and screamed in happiness... so much went on. Seeing JB was amazing. I overuse that word. It was phenomenal-- I was so incredibly happy for that short period of time, I'm sure I annoyed him with all my little squeaks and squeezes, but I couldn't help it, I couldn't bottle it. And when he climbed up onto that bus with his duct-taped backpack, not even looking back (probably because he assumed I'd just walk away, instead of standing there with my heart in my shoes) I felt a huge surge of hatred for those damned automobile carriages called buses that have carried the people I care about so much away from me. They've stolen hopes and yearnings and things that make me wiggle and dance, and displaced them to somewhere far-- where they belong, I suppose, but still far enough from me to make me extremely upset.
My brother's civil ceremony was short and sweet, with no big fuss being made despite the champagne and fancy dress (tuxes for the boys and my mom and I wore fascinators, which is the name for those feather and flower thingies, somewhat akin to some flapper head-dresses, except on a hair clippy thing instead.Very fun.)
Italy was even more astounding-- we were in the mountains, kind of near Calgi, and the agroturismo we were staying in was so cool. The house was huge and old and full of character (part of it was 300 years old!) and the views were spectacular (I have not seen this many stars in a very, very long time.) We arrived last Saturday, and I partied pretty much every night except last night and the Wednesday (saving myself for Thursday, which was the "ceremony".) Thursday consisted of people putting the finishing touches on their dishes (since many guests contributed a dish to the feast-- the real ceremony was the meal and the contribution of components from all of the people that Chris and Katie love and that love them.) Even though I hate speaking in public, I did it-- sobbing, might I add, since as soon as my other brother started speaking the little break in his voice as he said "I love my brother very much" set all of us (all three children, and our parents, too) to weeping. The three course meal (Jaysus Fucking Christ, that's all I can say) was amazing, and after that there was dancing and craziness (with a self-saved awkward turtle moment) [and some making out with the bride's brother, which may or may not have happened on a couple of the other nights. achem. Oh, and a naked dash to the bathroom when someone was making their way to the kitchen at 7 in the morning whilst some shenanigans were going on in the banquet hall. *cough cough*]
I swear, I sound like such a slut. Really, if I had my way, I wouldn't be doing all of this. If I could live in the same place I would be quite happily monogamous (at least, as far as I know, in my imagination of what life would be like in such a situation.) But that's not going to happen anytime soon, if at all. I'm not going to say with who, though.
Right now I am at Katie's parents house in the outskirts of London, feeling shite (gut and ovaries and feelings, all.) I may not well see CM (Katie's brother) at all again before I go, which makes me feel more than a little bit weird (obviously, our fooling around was not something made public to the families, though I think our respective moms and other people involved are astute enough to pick up on something.) I hate leaving with no closure... of course, my impulse is leave a mix cd, but I have no burner and only a few songs in my head to go on said mix ('Stay away from me' by the Honorary Title and 'Land-locked blues' by Bright Eyes, in particular, though that could be because I spent quite a bit of my PMS-y day feeling more than a little pissed off at the way he treated me.) Actually, it's less the way he's treated me (he's actually very sensitive and attentive and sweet) and more the way I'm always that girl that people hide or just fool around with, like with T or A or AB or JB even. Always the fuck in the closet (not that I've ever done that... what an intriguing and potentially uncomfortable idea...) It's not a good fucking feeling. I think most of my anger toward CM today was really just an echo of my anger at A last year. And definitely some ovary-related moodswings.
Speaking of mood swings today, I cried (or started to) a bit on the plane today because I kept thinking of JB. I haven't heard from him since he got back to York, and I know he's busy studying for exams (and it's not because I haven't heard from him that I was crying/on the verge of~) but I can't help but worry that things are fucked up between us. In my book, that would be a travesty. (no, not an executif or d'action)
Sometimes I can't help but think that some of my dramatic mood swings in public are purely to get a reaction out of people. For example, I get the sneaking suspicion that I wanted to cry to get CM to talk to me more than U (who I am fucking jealous of, but not attracted to at all. Usually if I am that jealous it's because I want to be that person and find them very arousing. In this case, it's purely attention- [and possibly self-assurance] -based.) You'd think that I would know my own intentions and be able to control them, wouldn't you? Not so. The Drama Queen rears her head and poises her claws to rake out any ounce of self-contol and respect I have to render me once again a pain-in-the-arse, paranoid teenager-figure. Fuck. And right this minute, I feel that way again, because I am secretly hoping that CM will walk in the door again and we can have a proper talk before I depart in the morning. Somehow, I doubt that's going to happen. Oh well, there's always Facebook stalking, right?
So, back in the realm of interweb connection after a week out in the middle of nowhere, with only one quick phone call all week (purely to wish a happy birthday to AB.)
Ended up telling JF about AB making out stuff, he was injured and still is-- and not talking to AB, which makes me guilty. I feel bad about it, but he doesn't really have much right to be fucked off with me about it, since I'm not going out with him anymore and he's a hipocritical bastard, since he went out with AB's ex with no qualms ages ago. So I'm just leaving it. If he doesn't forgive me, so be it.
Time in London was awesome and heart-wrenching. I saw loads of people I love, discovered bits of the city I'd never seen before, got drawn in a park, cried, sighed, and screamed in happiness... so much went on. Seeing JB was amazing. I overuse that word. It was phenomenal-- I was so incredibly happy for that short period of time, I'm sure I annoyed him with all my little squeaks and squeezes, but I couldn't help it, I couldn't bottle it. And when he climbed up onto that bus with his duct-taped backpack, not even looking back (probably because he assumed I'd just walk away, instead of standing there with my heart in my shoes) I felt a huge surge of hatred for those damned automobile carriages called buses that have carried the people I care about so much away from me. They've stolen hopes and yearnings and things that make me wiggle and dance, and displaced them to somewhere far-- where they belong, I suppose, but still far enough from me to make me extremely upset.
My brother's civil ceremony was short and sweet, with no big fuss being made despite the champagne and fancy dress (tuxes for the boys and my mom and I wore fascinators, which is the name for those feather and flower thingies, somewhat akin to some flapper head-dresses, except on a hair clippy thing instead.Very fun.)
Italy was even more astounding-- we were in the mountains, kind of near Calgi, and the agroturismo we were staying in was so cool. The house was huge and old and full of character (part of it was 300 years old!) and the views were spectacular (I have not seen this many stars in a very, very long time.) We arrived last Saturday, and I partied pretty much every night except last night and the Wednesday (saving myself for Thursday, which was the "ceremony".) Thursday consisted of people putting the finishing touches on their dishes (since many guests contributed a dish to the feast-- the real ceremony was the meal and the contribution of components from all of the people that Chris and Katie love and that love them.) Even though I hate speaking in public, I did it-- sobbing, might I add, since as soon as my other brother started speaking the little break in his voice as he said "I love my brother very much" set all of us (all three children, and our parents, too) to weeping. The three course meal (Jaysus Fucking Christ, that's all I can say) was amazing, and after that there was dancing and craziness (with a self-saved awkward turtle moment) [and some making out with the bride's brother, which may or may not have happened on a couple of the other nights. achem. Oh, and a naked dash to the bathroom when someone was making their way to the kitchen at 7 in the morning whilst some shenanigans were going on in the banquet hall. *cough cough*]
I swear, I sound like such a slut. Really, if I had my way, I wouldn't be doing all of this. If I could live in the same place I would be quite happily monogamous (at least, as far as I know, in my imagination of what life would be like in such a situation.) But that's not going to happen anytime soon, if at all. I'm not going to say with who, though.
Right now I am at Katie's parents house in the outskirts of London, feeling shite (gut and ovaries and feelings, all.) I may not well see CM (Katie's brother) at all again before I go, which makes me feel more than a little bit weird (obviously, our fooling around was not something made public to the families, though I think our respective moms and other people involved are astute enough to pick up on something.) I hate leaving with no closure... of course, my impulse is leave a mix cd, but I have no burner and only a few songs in my head to go on said mix ('Stay away from me' by the Honorary Title and 'Land-locked blues' by Bright Eyes, in particular, though that could be because I spent quite a bit of my PMS-y day feeling more than a little pissed off at the way he treated me.) Actually, it's less the way he's treated me (he's actually very sensitive and attentive and sweet) and more the way I'm always that girl that people hide or just fool around with, like with T or A or AB or JB even. Always the fuck in the closet (not that I've ever done that... what an intriguing and potentially uncomfortable idea...) It's not a good fucking feeling. I think most of my anger toward CM today was really just an echo of my anger at A last year. And definitely some ovary-related moodswings.
Speaking of mood swings today, I cried (or started to) a bit on the plane today because I kept thinking of JB. I haven't heard from him since he got back to York, and I know he's busy studying for exams (and it's not because I haven't heard from him that I was crying/on the verge of~) but I can't help but worry that things are fucked up between us. In my book, that would be a travesty. (no, not an executif or d'action)
Sometimes I can't help but think that some of my dramatic mood swings in public are purely to get a reaction out of people. For example, I get the sneaking suspicion that I wanted to cry to get CM to talk to me more than U (who I am fucking jealous of, but not attracted to at all. Usually if I am that jealous it's because I want to be that person and find them very arousing. In this case, it's purely attention- [and possibly self-assurance] -based.) You'd think that I would know my own intentions and be able to control them, wouldn't you? Not so. The Drama Queen rears her head and poises her claws to rake out any ounce of self-contol and respect I have to render me once again a pain-in-the-arse, paranoid teenager-figure. Fuck. And right this minute, I feel that way again, because I am secretly hoping that CM will walk in the door again and we can have a proper talk before I depart in the morning. Somehow, I doubt that's going to happen. Oh well, there's always Facebook stalking, right?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Em the Femme?
I told S a while ago that between biology class and the community, I was learning more new vocabulary than I knew what to do with. I was just reading an interesting post on being/not being Femme (http://sexgeek.wordpress.com/2009/05/09/on-not-being-femme/) and found myself questioning that identity as well, or maybe just the delineations of the definition. This year I have been reading an awful lot about what it means to be Femme or queer or genderqueer, and I find that some of it jars with me. Take, for example, the labeling of a person as a Femme because they happen to get regular pedicures, or some other such superficial habit. I don't-- in fact, I take pretty poor care of my feet and even just my nails in general. (I don't like the idea of paying someone to deal with my nasty feet, in a similar way to how I don't like paying to have 'maids'. I am not a slave-owner.)
I guess some of the things I take issue with might fit more under the definition of Femme in contrast with High Femme. SJ called me High Femme a while ago, and I questioned it even then. He said I was, even in my rain boots on his birthday. But to me, to slot myself into that cubby-hole is too limiting, and doesn't feel right. High Femme to me screams of high-maintenance, painful feet (not that I wouldn't wear heels if I didn't have this toe problem), and the same kind of dressing up for other people that I take issue with in the straight community. I think on some level I just need to hear a High Femme's definition of it, rather than the slightly negative vibes I've heard-- I just remember being at that queer party a while ago and hearing the host talk about how she can't stand High Femmes. I suppose from that I associated them with the kind of girl that I can't stand: superficial in both appearance and social matters. So you can imagine that I was not pleased to be called such a thing.
I am ready to be convinced otherwise, but even Sex Geek says something about Femmes being excited to talk about things like shoe shopping and 'beauty' procedures with passion. If that's the definition of a Femme, then I am most certainly not one: I like shoes, yes (even though I am doomed to wear these hiking boots until I wither away) and even like shopping on some level... but I like doing them, not talking about them. And even when I do them, I do a quick sweep-- if there is nothing I like, I'm out of there. I may be indecisive about a lot of things, but not about clothes. That's where my "Femme-ness" comes into play: I love to dress up. Not just dresses, either. I have always enjoyed a bit of genderfuck juxtaposition. Dresses with combat boots, short skirts and ties, etc. Or sometimes I will go full-out jeans, button-down, and tie-- with dangly earrings, of course (can't go without those.) In that way, I feel Femme: I feel powerful and sexy and like me when I am dressed up, when I have thought about what I'm wearing and am confident in it so that I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks about it. That, to me, is being Femme-- I don't need to be wearing a skirt or heels to feel feminine and empowered, I can be Femme with my short hair and butch hiking boots, with my unmanicured nails, with no dangly earrings. But in the end, whether I fit other people's definition of Femme or not, I am me and I am getting comfortable in my own skin-- and that's all that really matters.
Monday, May 11, 2009
A Londres...
faire comme les Londoniers? (je ne sais pas.)
I've been in London since Saturday at noon. It's very strange, and very nice simultaneously: I haven't been since I left York after graduation in '07. At that point, I was still technically "with" JF (though stuff with JB had already happened and I was mentally gone already.) Now, I'm single and a lot more mature... but still do things that I might not if I considered the consequences. For example, making out with AB, who's one of my best friends and also the person I am staying with for the duration of my stay in London... I'm fairly certain that he's approaching it as casually as I am (I almost typed 'with as much casualty', which may well be the case if I am wrong) so it's just a bit of fun, but I was wondering about how it would interfere if there was someone else that I wanted to pull during my trip (I will name no names... or even initials. I'm just open to possibilities.) One of the things that came up in mid-kiss pauses was the fact that we could get in a lot of trouble for it--from JF. I understand the whole 'no fooling around with/whatever with my ex' to a degree, but it still pisses me off that he still (unknowingly) claims some level of ownership over me. He'd say that he doesn't, but if he knew that AB and I messed around, he'd flip a shit (I don't know where I got that expression, apologies.)
Speaking of issues with ownership, I know that I should tell SJ about all this stuff (well, AB for the moment-- my mother accurately noted before I left that I'm a sucker for accents) but I'm not exactly sure how. He said stuff about being cool with me doing stuff, and even was considering doing stuff himself with some special people that were coming through town, but then he threw in the 'My grrrl' and wants me to say 'my Daddy' after that, so he may have decided against it and is not being clear (this happens a lot, actually. He apparently told me my safeword at one point (obviously earlier in our play dates) but I didn't catch it because sometimes I can't understand him or hear him, and I ask him to repeat himself a lot, so I feel rude and like a bad grrrl. I think it'll be best to just let him know about whatever goes on when I get back, rather than sending him emails with whatever has happened of that nature.
So far, I have walked along the Thames, gone to Camden, gotten lost a lot, and just generally chilled-- which is amazing. I have not studied since Wednesday (though I'm planning to start MCAT review, or at least work on my personal statement, today) The people I've seen have been my brother and AB... I see JF tomorrow, we'll see what that's like. Now, I'm going to try to think of something yummy for dinner and do aforementioned work. Huzzah!
Friday, May 8, 2009
Who's your...?
There is much in my life I am not blogging about at the moment, but this has been niggling me as a potential topic for quite a while now, and I need to address it before I head off to England and forget all about anything I was meaning to do.
So there's this interesting dynamic, this strange shift, that I have to make when I leave my house for SJ's or any interaction with SJ. SJ and I have a Daddy-grrrl thing going on, which is an entirely new direction in my life (not just sex life) that has some interesting elements to it all on its own. But then, add in the fact that I live with my parents, and still call my father 'Daddy'. At first, I had a hard time with calling SJ 'Daddy', for exactly that reason. The incestuous implications of it were just a little too much to handle upon first contemplation.
Oh, and my mother used to call me 'girl' when she was angry at me/I was in trouble. I hated it. I would always scream back, "don't call me 'girl!'" and she would say, "what should I call you, 'boy'?" I don't remember what I replied, but it should have been asking her to call me by my name. It's worth noting that both of my brothers got called by their full names (polysyllabic first names, along with their middle names and our long-ass last name), while I just got called a monosyllabic label. I'm not sure if I realized that at the time, or if that was the reason I objected to it so strongly. Maybe I had/have a bit more of genderfuck in me than I sometimes present :P
Both of those facts made the beginnings of my ventures into actual submissiveness (I mean under an actual top, not just softcore) a little challenging on more than just the usual attempts to tame my sassy/snarky comments. Now, though, I have managed to disconnect these associations, so I can easily go from calling SJ 'Daddy' to saying hello to my father when I come home, with relatively little awkwardness. The 'grrrl' thing bothers me less, as long as I know it's 'grrrl' and not 'girl'. When I first got a text from SJ calling me 'my grrrl', I misread it as 'my girl' and immediately refused to reply, because I don't want to be possessed or owned. I am nobody's girl but my own. I do like giving myself up for a while, but no one can claim full ownership of me, which is a fact that I very much like.
That being said, I know that for all SJ wants me to feel free (he mentioned something about when I went to England, and whether I was going on a 'sex tour') he also makes it pretty clear in the way he acts that he'd probably be hurt by it on some level-- not that I know this for sure, but I'd like to think of myself as being pretty good at reading people, especially people I've spent some time with. I have had some moments where I feel kind of bad, because I am not as into him as he is into me... but then, when I go see him I get to be taken out of my comfort zone, experience these new things that are helping me learn about myself in a way that grounds me. So, as selfish as those reasons sound, I go back. [NB: me not liking him as much as he likes me does not mean I don't like him-- he is always saying how much he adores me and has even used the l word (no, not the bloody TV show)] With all the shit that I have to deal with in between schoolwork and applications to med schools and the (metaphorical) self-flagellation that I put myself through on a constant basis, I need someone to do the (physical) flagellation for me, and hold me afterwards (my personal aftercare is somewhat shabby-- or non-existent :P )
So I'm selfish. Aren't we all? Besides, I'm not just taking.
So there's this interesting dynamic, this strange shift, that I have to make when I leave my house for SJ's or any interaction with SJ. SJ and I have a Daddy-grrrl thing going on, which is an entirely new direction in my life (not just sex life) that has some interesting elements to it all on its own. But then, add in the fact that I live with my parents, and still call my father 'Daddy'. At first, I had a hard time with calling SJ 'Daddy', for exactly that reason. The incestuous implications of it were just a little too much to handle upon first contemplation.
Oh, and my mother used to call me 'girl' when she was angry at me/I was in trouble. I hated it. I would always scream back, "don't call me 'girl!'" and she would say, "what should I call you, 'boy'?" I don't remember what I replied, but it should have been asking her to call me by my name. It's worth noting that both of my brothers got called by their full names (polysyllabic first names, along with their middle names and our long-ass last name), while I just got called a monosyllabic label. I'm not sure if I realized that at the time, or if that was the reason I objected to it so strongly. Maybe I had/have a bit more of genderfuck in me than I sometimes present :P
Both of those facts made the beginnings of my ventures into actual submissiveness (I mean under an actual top, not just softcore) a little challenging on more than just the usual attempts to tame my sassy/snarky comments. Now, though, I have managed to disconnect these associations, so I can easily go from calling SJ 'Daddy' to saying hello to my father when I come home, with relatively little awkwardness. The 'grrrl' thing bothers me less, as long as I know it's 'grrrl' and not 'girl'. When I first got a text from SJ calling me 'my grrrl', I misread it as 'my girl' and immediately refused to reply, because I don't want to be possessed or owned. I am nobody's girl but my own. I do like giving myself up for a while, but no one can claim full ownership of me, which is a fact that I very much like.
That being said, I know that for all SJ wants me to feel free (he mentioned something about when I went to England, and whether I was going on a 'sex tour') he also makes it pretty clear in the way he acts that he'd probably be hurt by it on some level-- not that I know this for sure, but I'd like to think of myself as being pretty good at reading people, especially people I've spent some time with. I have had some moments where I feel kind of bad, because I am not as into him as he is into me... but then, when I go see him I get to be taken out of my comfort zone, experience these new things that are helping me learn about myself in a way that grounds me. So, as selfish as those reasons sound, I go back. [NB: me not liking him as much as he likes me does not mean I don't like him-- he is always saying how much he adores me and has even used the l word (no, not the bloody TV show)] With all the shit that I have to deal with in between schoolwork and applications to med schools and the (metaphorical) self-flagellation that I put myself through on a constant basis, I need someone to do the (physical) flagellation for me, and hold me afterwards (my personal aftercare is somewhat shabby-- or non-existent :P )
So I'm selfish. Aren't we all? Besides, I'm not just taking.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
This is one more day on the verge of tears
['Failure by Design', by Brand New]
I start to like my body, start to feel comfortable again despite disordered binge-starve patterns... and then I try on clothes that I think should fit, and they don't, and I want to break down and never eat again. Except I don't do that, instead I go an eat the best parts of a 28-serving package of peanut m+ms in 3 days. I gross myself out, and worry about the epigenetic traits I'll pass on to my grandkids. It's not the fat that grosses me out, it's the eating patterns. This is what makes me hate myself with a burning rage that is otherwise reserved for the likes of ignorant bigots.
I start to like my body, start to feel comfortable again despite disordered binge-starve patterns... and then I try on clothes that I think should fit, and they don't, and I want to break down and never eat again. Except I don't do that, instead I go an eat the best parts of a 28-serving package of peanut m+ms in 3 days. I gross myself out, and worry about the epigenetic traits I'll pass on to my grandkids. It's not the fat that grosses me out, it's the eating patterns. This is what makes me hate myself with a burning rage that is otherwise reserved for the likes of ignorant bigots.
Monday, April 27, 2009
I'm late, I'm late!
for a very important date? No. Just generally feeling rushed and stretched and stressed. Thus the lack of posting: no time. However, there is always room for linkage.
http://whenorif.wordpress.com/
I think I have a bit of 'the Crazy', too
http://whenorif.wordpress.com/
I think I have a bit of 'the Crazy', too
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
I let it go, like paper airplanes
[I don't know who this is. I know it's a song, though.]
*Disclaimer: annoyingly emo and angsty post.
Today, I cannot be positive. I should be studying, I have a lot of work to do... but instead I am sitting, invisible, on gchat, lamenting the fact that I can't/won't talk to J. I would like to go visible and start chatting, but I am terrified that he will go not reply and go offline like has happened so many times before, and I don't want to feed into my paranoia. Besides, I don't have anything positive to say. Yes, it's what I'm feeling, but it's also a downer. I don't want anyone else to feel the sapping of energy and vitality that I am experiencing right now. This is a pretty good analogy of how I feel even when we're talking to each other though-- there's a barrier, a sadness that keeps me from really communicating, as much as I'd like to discuss everything and anything. But when it comes down to it? I can't. I clam up. I become the scared little girl from middle school, hiding behind her fat and feeling like nothing in the world could make whoever my attention was focused on like me, so I might as well be stand-offish. I need sleep, and just enough food, and hugs.
I need more meds, but don't have an appointment with the doctor yet.
*Disclaimer: annoyingly emo and angsty post.
Today, I cannot be positive. I should be studying, I have a lot of work to do... but instead I am sitting, invisible, on gchat, lamenting the fact that I can't/won't talk to J. I would like to go visible and start chatting, but I am terrified that he will go not reply and go offline like has happened so many times before, and I don't want to feed into my paranoia. Besides, I don't have anything positive to say. Yes, it's what I'm feeling, but it's also a downer. I don't want anyone else to feel the sapping of energy and vitality that I am experiencing right now. This is a pretty good analogy of how I feel even when we're talking to each other though-- there's a barrier, a sadness that keeps me from really communicating, as much as I'd like to discuss everything and anything. But when it comes down to it? I can't. I clam up. I become the scared little girl from middle school, hiding behind her fat and feeling like nothing in the world could make whoever my attention was focused on like me, so I might as well be stand-offish. I need sleep, and just enough food, and hugs.
I need more meds, but don't have an appointment with the doctor yet.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
[I've] only just begun...
[the Carpenters]
I just spent several minutes writing and then erasing various things in the empty space on Twitter. So many of my tweets these days have been negative or emotional, except for my replies, and I don't think that needs to be out there in that medium. Microblogging is essentially an attention-grabbing/quick update thing, and I don't want consolation, I just want to capture a little bit of what I'm feeling.
*I'd only just begun to get to know (more than a couple of aspects of) J, and it's a strange sensation to feel so much attachment for this person that I can't honestly say that I feel I know. It makes me feel regret for not getting the chance to know him as he was, but I'm also thankful that I got to see what little of him I did, and makes me hopeful for getting to know our future selves (myself as well as him.)
I know, I'm pushing the emo-ness.
And, to push that a little bit farther (I've never been particularly restrained):
*I'm only just beginning to realize my potential-- in both good and bad ways; my potential to do awesome things, and my potential to hurt. I think I'm learning more about myself this year than I ever felt I have before. It's a scary thing.
I just spent several minutes writing and then erasing various things in the empty space on Twitter. So many of my tweets these days have been negative or emotional, except for my replies, and I don't think that needs to be out there in that medium. Microblogging is essentially an attention-grabbing/quick update thing, and I don't want consolation, I just want to capture a little bit of what I'm feeling.
*I'd only just begun to get to know (more than a couple of aspects of) J, and it's a strange sensation to feel so much attachment for this person that I can't honestly say that I feel I know. It makes me feel regret for not getting the chance to know him as he was, but I'm also thankful that I got to see what little of him I did, and makes me hopeful for getting to know our future selves (myself as well as him.)
I know, I'm pushing the emo-ness.
And, to push that a little bit farther (I've never been particularly restrained):
*I'm only just beginning to realize my potential-- in both good and bad ways; my potential to do awesome things, and my potential to hurt. I think I'm learning more about myself this year than I ever felt I have before. It's a scary thing.
This takes the cake
I have much I could say. But for right now, I just want to direct your attention to this beautiful post: http://dorothysurrenders.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-weekend-crush_17.html
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Like a real life teddy bear... with a brain
{Q, whilst we were discussing what animal Dr.W should be-- we settled on an Ewok, even though [or maybe because] it's a fictitious creature, because nothing else seemed equally friendly, smart, and cute.}
Today in the computer room (where so much "studying" goes on-- read: gossip and sharing of hilarious youtube videos), the subject of Seth Rogen came up. I, being the entertainment black hole that I am (ie. I know nothing), did not know that he had lost a bunch of weight. Neither, it seems, did M, so we both looked up pictures to see what Q and JP were talking about. They said something about him looking 'almost too skinny' (whatever the hell that means.) Think about this: a few weeks ago, the same people were talking about Eliza Dushku as though she could have stood to lose those 10 pounds or so she allegedly dropped for Dollhouse to look "smoking". Does this not strike anyone else as a bit of a doozy? It's well known that society perceives it to be perfectly all right to be male and overweight (successful, etc.), and when he loses weight (for the Green Hornet movie he's going to make) it's not very long before there's talk of him getting close to being 'too skinny' and that he looked better with some chub. (NB: there are also plenty of other responses saying that he 'looks great now' and even that he could stand to lose a few more.) But overall? He lost a lot of weight, yes, but he's nowhere near the emaciation that is considered standard or even chubby for a woman in the same business. Tina Fey also lost a shitload of weight before she became a big hooha. Now excuse me, but that fucks me off. I really don't get this fetishistic idolization of skeletal, pre-pubescent women. I don't even get it in the depths of my eating disorder-- I never wanted to be like that, I always wanted to be strong and healthy; my body type is just such that the weight that I was aiming for to be that was also to the point on scarily skinny. I have a large frame (on occasion I will jokingly call it Amazonian) and so I will never be a size 0 or even a size 6. But you know what? I am sick of feeling like I need to squeeze into whatever size society deems "acceptable" to be categorized as thin. I am life-sized.
Today in the computer room (where so much "studying" goes on-- read: gossip and sharing of hilarious youtube videos), the subject of Seth Rogen came up. I, being the entertainment black hole that I am (ie. I know nothing), did not know that he had lost a bunch of weight. Neither, it seems, did M, so we both looked up pictures to see what Q and JP were talking about. They said something about him looking 'almost too skinny' (whatever the hell that means.) Think about this: a few weeks ago, the same people were talking about Eliza Dushku as though she could have stood to lose those 10 pounds or so she allegedly dropped for Dollhouse to look "smoking". Does this not strike anyone else as a bit of a doozy? It's well known that society perceives it to be perfectly all right to be male and overweight (successful, etc.), and when he loses weight (for the Green Hornet movie he's going to make) it's not very long before there's talk of him getting close to being 'too skinny' and that he looked better with some chub. (NB: there are also plenty of other responses saying that he 'looks great now' and even that he could stand to lose a few more.) But overall? He lost a lot of weight, yes, but he's nowhere near the emaciation that is considered standard or even chubby for a woman in the same business. Tina Fey also lost a shitload of weight before she became a big hooha. Now excuse me, but that fucks me off. I really don't get this fetishistic idolization of skeletal, pre-pubescent women. I don't even get it in the depths of my eating disorder-- I never wanted to be like that, I always wanted to be strong and healthy; my body type is just such that the weight that I was aiming for to be that was also to the point on scarily skinny. I have a large frame (on occasion I will jokingly call it Amazonian) and so I will never be a size 0 or even a size 6. But you know what? I am sick of feeling like I need to squeeze into whatever size society deems "acceptable" to be categorized as thin. I am life-sized.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Hey, man, now you're really living
[the Eels]
Feel like rubbish today. It occurred to me that I have not taken my meds in 6 days, without thinking about it-- it also occurred to me that my fucked up mood swings might have something to do with it, so I'm going to take some tonight and try to make an appointment with a doctor to get my prescription refilled, because I really can't afford to do something to the detriment of myself just because I'm bull-headed. I have enough unhealthy shit going down right now.
Right this moment I feel pretty bad about the SJ thing. I feel like I'm exploiting the attention he gives me, and falling into the same shit I played with CD last year. I feel like I'm holding a horrible double standard, and treating him with the same kind of crap that I am always paranoid people are treating me with when I like them more than they like me. That's not fair, and it's not making me like myself any more. Plus, I really should hunker down and focus more on school for these last few weeks, and then I'm in England, and then this summer's going to pretty much be hell.
Speaking of CD, he wrote me a myspace message today, talking about how he's so sad and misses me but he knows that my feelings for him are no longer there (eek. can't bear to tell him they never really were. CD's one of the bigger mistakes I've made in my large repertoire of fuck-ups) and he can resign himself to his fate and move on, but I have to tell him that. I seem to get myself in this situation quite a bit, where this person that I led on for a little bit because I'm a bitch or attention whore or even because I thought I liked them goes gaga and I feel like the worst person in the world but I cannot conjure up emotion that is not there. I can't stand lying, either... I can do it (not sure how convincingly), but I hate it because it makes me hate myself, and I have enough of that without lying. I also hate to hurt people, though, and that seems like it's just going to happen. Doesn't make it easier, though. Fuck.
I was given a meal plan to help me get back on track. Instead, I have been blatantly ignoring it/deviating from it. I am now afraid to write down the things I have been eating and the way I have been feeling in my food diary as I'm supposed to because I'm afraid of being judged by my therapist. Who I tell a fuck-load, but she couldn't handle everything that goes on in my life (well, what do you know? Neither can I, apparently.) I know she's trained for this shit, but I can hear her tone of voice, I see her little mannerisms shift, I know I've made her uncomfortable before and could easily do it again-- this is why I feel like I could be a good psychiatrist, I can read people pretty well.
Actually, I've been thinking about what I want to do medically, and I feel like I'm leaning more away from psychiatry, more toward family care or something a little more broad... I obviously don't know, though. I still have dreams of marrying cognitive therapy with movement therapy and art therapy. SJ said something about trans folks (or anyone that deviates from the norm, really) being afraid to call an ambulance or go to the doctor when they need to, because of the way that they can be received, which totally fucks me over and makes me so incredibly upset and furious with the myopic world view that so many people have. If I could provide any degree of solace in the medical profession for people who are denied their dignity in the usual health care field, I would be honored. Now how to actually go about it is another matter. I can't exactly put that on my personal statement. :P
Also, on applying to med schools and stuff: I'm reminding myself-- especially when I get freaked out about things-- that this is me attempting to follow my dreams. I've come so far already, and I have agency in deciding how and when it goes down. If I really want it, I can achieve it, and get it done well ("Get 'er done!" hehe.) And in the end, if I don't get in this year? There's always next, and maybe I wasn't meant to rush through it.
Feel like rubbish today. It occurred to me that I have not taken my meds in 6 days, without thinking about it-- it also occurred to me that my fucked up mood swings might have something to do with it, so I'm going to take some tonight and try to make an appointment with a doctor to get my prescription refilled, because I really can't afford to do something to the detriment of myself just because I'm bull-headed. I have enough unhealthy shit going down right now.
Right this moment I feel pretty bad about the SJ thing. I feel like I'm exploiting the attention he gives me, and falling into the same shit I played with CD last year. I feel like I'm holding a horrible double standard, and treating him with the same kind of crap that I am always paranoid people are treating me with when I like them more than they like me. That's not fair, and it's not making me like myself any more. Plus, I really should hunker down and focus more on school for these last few weeks, and then I'm in England, and then this summer's going to pretty much be hell.
Speaking of CD, he wrote me a myspace message today, talking about how he's so sad and misses me but he knows that my feelings for him are no longer there (eek. can't bear to tell him they never really were. CD's one of the bigger mistakes I've made in my large repertoire of fuck-ups) and he can resign himself to his fate and move on, but I have to tell him that. I seem to get myself in this situation quite a bit, where this person that I led on for a little bit because I'm a bitch or attention whore or even because I thought I liked them goes gaga and I feel like the worst person in the world but I cannot conjure up emotion that is not there. I can't stand lying, either... I can do it (not sure how convincingly), but I hate it because it makes me hate myself, and I have enough of that without lying. I also hate to hurt people, though, and that seems like it's just going to happen. Doesn't make it easier, though. Fuck.
I was given a meal plan to help me get back on track. Instead, I have been blatantly ignoring it/deviating from it. I am now afraid to write down the things I have been eating and the way I have been feeling in my food diary as I'm supposed to because I'm afraid of being judged by my therapist. Who I tell a fuck-load, but she couldn't handle everything that goes on in my life (well, what do you know? Neither can I, apparently.) I know she's trained for this shit, but I can hear her tone of voice, I see her little mannerisms shift, I know I've made her uncomfortable before and could easily do it again-- this is why I feel like I could be a good psychiatrist, I can read people pretty well.
Actually, I've been thinking about what I want to do medically, and I feel like I'm leaning more away from psychiatry, more toward family care or something a little more broad... I obviously don't know, though. I still have dreams of marrying cognitive therapy with movement therapy and art therapy. SJ said something about trans folks (or anyone that deviates from the norm, really) being afraid to call an ambulance or go to the doctor when they need to, because of the way that they can be received, which totally fucks me over and makes me so incredibly upset and furious with the myopic world view that so many people have. If I could provide any degree of solace in the medical profession for people who are denied their dignity in the usual health care field, I would be honored. Now how to actually go about it is another matter. I can't exactly put that on my personal statement. :P
Also, on applying to med schools and stuff: I'm reminding myself-- especially when I get freaked out about things-- that this is me attempting to follow my dreams. I've come so far already, and I have agency in deciding how and when it goes down. If I really want it, I can achieve it, and get it done well ("Get 'er done!" hehe.) And in the end, if I don't get in this year? There's always next, and maybe I wasn't meant to rush through it.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Angels don't eat fairies, though
[from a silly Sunday comic: prefaced by "fairies have insect wings, and angels have bird wings. Birds eat fairies."]
There feels as though there is very little time to blog, and (with that) very little time to process. I suppose I always feel that though-- a kind of suffocating, overwhelming sense of 'there's something important that I need to be doing' that contributes to my constant denigration of myself. But anyways.
Friday, dancing with SJ again-- First of all, left the house in a heavy thunderstorm, with tornado warnings. On the way out of the door, my mother screamed at me that I was a fucking idiot, as lighting flashed. I lived, obviously. Later, was forbidden (by SJ) from wearing my watch. [for me, this is big. I constantly and compulsively check my watch.] In lieu, I was presented with a pair of purple restraints, which were worn out to MSR. Saw the drag show, danced dirty, then proceeded to the 'cottage'. (Was apparently commented about muchly to SJ.) I have mixed feelings about going out with that sort of marked "ownership", albeit for a short time period-- I know I like to be submissive (oh, yes) and that was a hell of a turn-on, but the loss of some degree of independence, while contributing to the overall submission factor, also irritates me somewhat. I guess I just want to be able to flirt with anyone and everyone that appeals to me(or, as my pattern goes, flirts with me.) [I'm sure I'll get more into this later ] So, the 'cottage'-- real restraints and rope, a spreader bar, just extra-light stuff, except a little bit of choking. (First impression: 'what the fuck??' *ensuing panic*; subsequent impressions: 'well, I can still breathe for the most part' and getting too caught up in coming, then starting to like it.) I made SJ come like crazy, which was gratifying but a little disappointing for me at times because it was often when I was close but not there. Luckily, there were many more gos :P Overall: was fun (very), but I feel kind of off about it, maybe because I'm not crazy about him-- which is not to say that I don't like him, because otherwise I wouldn't be doing this, it's just... well, I'm making comparisons, when I probably shouldn't be. But that's a bit off-topic. I'm getting better at asking things properly, but there are times when I'm a bit too lippy to be classified a Good grrrl... but then, a little bit of naughty just makes things more fun. :P
Saturday morning I drove home, tried to get some work done, then met S, C, and SJ at the cottage again. There was cooking, naked hot-tubbing (S, C, and I. Not sexual, fyi), laughter, and a bit of fumbly-ness on the part of SJ (cute.) It was really nice to get to talk to C more, and S and C's interactions are adorable. Soon after dinner (I cooked! Not up to my usual standards, but my excuse is I'm out of practice. Lots of nutritional yeast made up for what it lacked, though :P) and special cookies, S and C departed for the hot tub again, and SJ and I stayed in on the couch. Later, after some hot tubbing of our own, we retired to the bedroom... this time, there was a little more stuff that I haven't experienced before-- briefly, a flogger and paddle; some frontal spanking... I guess I'm a little filthier than I used to be-- I remember not liking some things when JF did them, but that might have also been because he had no idea about topping (either proper practices or otherwise. Another reason JF and I weren't wonderful together: we're both bottoms.) I liked the vulnerability of it, the power play-- as a bottom, I still felt like I had a lot of power (especially with how many times he came, it was pretty amazing. I guess that's what some of my other lovers must have thought of me :P) Complaints: I couldn't seem to come as well as I usually do. I was certainly turned on, but something wasn't hitting right. That's not to say that I didn't, because I made the properly phrased requests that I knew would get me off, but I would have liked to match him in notching up the orgasms (ha. competitive rubbish.Yes, I know sex isn't all about the orgasm.) So yeah, much fun. Plus, I get the feeling it'll get better as we play some more (as well as venturing into realms yet undiscovered by yours truly.) Part of my hesitation about this all is that I feel like he's getting waaay more into me than I am into him. I don't think that he's under the impression that I'll be exclusive (I should clarify this before I cause trouble, though... not that I anyone in mind) but he started talking about stuff way in the future, and that made me nervous (I don't like to make assumptions and/or promises I can't keep.)
I think my issues with it were also heightened by the aftermath of my usual strong wave of emotion when J called (before going to the cottage Sat night.) Whenever I'm on the phone with him I feel so dumb, like there's so much that I want to say but it all disappears, and then I'm just overcome with the yawning gap in my chest where a bit of my heart feels like it's been ripped out. (Wow, way to go me: I've got the angsty emo drama down-pat-- but we knew that already.)
Also Saturday before returning to the cottage, my mom asked me about whether MSR was a gay bar or not, so I told her, and she reacted weirdly, and said something like "but I thought you were bi", which was really fucked up and made me really upset. I ran away for a bit, and then soon after approached her and asked her what she was talking about. She said that she thinks that I'm very susceptible to my surroundings, and that if I was only going to gay bars all the time, then I wasn't giving myself an "equal opportunity", as well as the same old stuff about it being a hard lifestyle. I acknowledged that sometimes I can be swayed by my surroundings, but I told her that I was going to dance and relax, and it wasn't her choice, or my choice. I kind of wish that I'd said that maybe this was my balancing, my "equal opportunity" if you will, of the years of straight dating JF. At some point, I also remember pointedly asking her if her concern had anything to do with the possibility of not having grandkids by me (she didn't answer.) All in all, her reaction appalled me. For someone so liberal, she's so close-minded when it comes to her daughter... but then, at least I'm able to tell her, I'm so thankful for that.
Today, my eating was fucked up majorly. But hey, that's what Easter is for, right? By all rights, I should have thrown up around twice by now. With my eating habits, I'm really surprised that I'm not so much bigger than I am... I can't even sleep (or am not even attempting to) because I have so much sugar coursing through my veins... it's really gross. More than putting on weight, it's this weird-ass binge cycle, this lack of a grip on self-control, that scares me. I really need to establish my self-trust, and my therapist gave me an eating plan to help that, and instead I fuck it up royally, and I feel that much worse for letting someone else down as well as myself. (But berating myself will only make it worse. Tomorrow is a new day.)
There feels as though there is very little time to blog, and (with that) very little time to process. I suppose I always feel that though-- a kind of suffocating, overwhelming sense of 'there's something important that I need to be doing' that contributes to my constant denigration of myself. But anyways.
Friday, dancing with SJ again-- First of all, left the house in a heavy thunderstorm, with tornado warnings. On the way out of the door, my mother screamed at me that I was a fucking idiot, as lighting flashed. I lived, obviously. Later, was forbidden (by SJ) from wearing my watch. [for me, this is big. I constantly and compulsively check my watch.] In lieu, I was presented with a pair of purple restraints, which were worn out to MSR. Saw the drag show, danced dirty, then proceeded to the 'cottage'. (Was apparently commented about muchly to SJ.) I have mixed feelings about going out with that sort of marked "ownership", albeit for a short time period-- I know I like to be submissive (oh, yes) and that was a hell of a turn-on, but the loss of some degree of independence, while contributing to the overall submission factor, also irritates me somewhat. I guess I just want to be able to flirt with anyone and everyone that appeals to me(or, as my pattern goes, flirts with me.) [I'm sure I'll get more into this later ] So, the 'cottage'-- real restraints and rope, a spreader bar, just extra-light stuff, except a little bit of choking. (First impression: 'what the fuck??' *ensuing panic*; subsequent impressions: 'well, I can still breathe for the most part' and getting too caught up in coming, then starting to like it.) I made SJ come like crazy, which was gratifying but a little disappointing for me at times because it was often when I was close but not there. Luckily, there were many more gos :P Overall: was fun (very), but I feel kind of off about it, maybe because I'm not crazy about him-- which is not to say that I don't like him, because otherwise I wouldn't be doing this, it's just... well, I'm making comparisons, when I probably shouldn't be. But that's a bit off-topic. I'm getting better at asking things properly, but there are times when I'm a bit too lippy to be classified a Good grrrl... but then, a little bit of naughty just makes things more fun. :P
Saturday morning I drove home, tried to get some work done, then met S, C, and SJ at the cottage again. There was cooking, naked hot-tubbing (S, C, and I. Not sexual, fyi), laughter, and a bit of fumbly-ness on the part of SJ (cute.) It was really nice to get to talk to C more, and S and C's interactions are adorable. Soon after dinner (I cooked! Not up to my usual standards, but my excuse is I'm out of practice. Lots of nutritional yeast made up for what it lacked, though :P) and special cookies, S and C departed for the hot tub again, and SJ and I stayed in on the couch. Later, after some hot tubbing of our own, we retired to the bedroom... this time, there was a little more stuff that I haven't experienced before-- briefly, a flogger and paddle; some frontal spanking... I guess I'm a little filthier than I used to be-- I remember not liking some things when JF did them, but that might have also been because he had no idea about topping (either proper practices or otherwise. Another reason JF and I weren't wonderful together: we're both bottoms.) I liked the vulnerability of it, the power play-- as a bottom, I still felt like I had a lot of power (especially with how many times he came, it was pretty amazing. I guess that's what some of my other lovers must have thought of me :P) Complaints: I couldn't seem to come as well as I usually do. I was certainly turned on, but something wasn't hitting right. That's not to say that I didn't, because I made the properly phrased requests that I knew would get me off, but I would have liked to match him in notching up the orgasms (ha. competitive rubbish.Yes, I know sex isn't all about the orgasm.) So yeah, much fun. Plus, I get the feeling it'll get better as we play some more (as well as venturing into realms yet undiscovered by yours truly.) Part of my hesitation about this all is that I feel like he's getting waaay more into me than I am into him. I don't think that he's under the impression that I'll be exclusive (I should clarify this before I cause trouble, though... not that I anyone in mind) but he started talking about stuff way in the future, and that made me nervous (I don't like to make assumptions and/or promises I can't keep.)
I think my issues with it were also heightened by the aftermath of my usual strong wave of emotion when J called (before going to the cottage Sat night.) Whenever I'm on the phone with him I feel so dumb, like there's so much that I want to say but it all disappears, and then I'm just overcome with the yawning gap in my chest where a bit of my heart feels like it's been ripped out. (Wow, way to go me: I've got the angsty emo drama down-pat-- but we knew that already.)
Also Saturday before returning to the cottage, my mom asked me about whether MSR was a gay bar or not, so I told her, and she reacted weirdly, and said something like "but I thought you were bi", which was really fucked up and made me really upset. I ran away for a bit, and then soon after approached her and asked her what she was talking about. She said that she thinks that I'm very susceptible to my surroundings, and that if I was only going to gay bars all the time, then I wasn't giving myself an "equal opportunity", as well as the same old stuff about it being a hard lifestyle. I acknowledged that sometimes I can be swayed by my surroundings, but I told her that I was going to dance and relax, and it wasn't her choice, or my choice. I kind of wish that I'd said that maybe this was my balancing, my "equal opportunity" if you will, of the years of straight dating JF. At some point, I also remember pointedly asking her if her concern had anything to do with the possibility of not having grandkids by me (she didn't answer.) All in all, her reaction appalled me. For someone so liberal, she's so close-minded when it comes to her daughter... but then, at least I'm able to tell her, I'm so thankful for that.
Today, my eating was fucked up majorly. But hey, that's what Easter is for, right? By all rights, I should have thrown up around twice by now. With my eating habits, I'm really surprised that I'm not so much bigger than I am... I can't even sleep (or am not even attempting to) because I have so much sugar coursing through my veins... it's really gross. More than putting on weight, it's this weird-ass binge cycle, this lack of a grip on self-control, that scares me. I really need to establish my self-trust, and my therapist gave me an eating plan to help that, and instead I fuck it up royally, and I feel that much worse for letting someone else down as well as myself. (But berating myself will only make it worse. Tomorrow is a new day.)
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Mother Nature's sewing machine
[hearts will hold ](Jason Mraz)
Yesterday I received another shocking tsunami wave of emotion, turning the corner into S's driveway to see a car that I thought was J's. I think I'm doing just dandy, and I am, but then these break me down for a little bit and I have to take some time to rebuild my oceanfront walls with some new mortar. I have to admit that last night I cuddled a certain stuffed animal in a manner I haven't cuddled one in years-- I didn't even let go in my sleep like I usually would. Then I woke up, agitated, and wrote a poem for the first time since November 30th (I can't believe it's been that long, that's tragic.) I haven't re-read it again, so I don't know if it's any good or not; I presume it's the usual caliber of the poetry I write when it's been a while (i.e. poor; it takes me a while to get back into the swing of it.) Needless to say, I'm experiencing a bit of tumultuous sensation this morning.
On a completely different note, Friday was a trip. I went dancing with SJ again. One thing I love about doing that is that as of yet I have not changed my clothes from what I was wearing all day (aside from removing layers), there's been no aspect of cultivation of a certain impression. In the past, my dressing up/manipulation of impression management (to be all social anthropology on it) has kind of annoyed me, as it usually does when I feel like I'm changing myself to please others (not that me dressing up is expressly changing anything about myself, since I do that anyway, but if I decide against something I love just to upkeep some impact I believe I'm having with one style, it's not true.) What I mean to say is that I've been dressing myself, from one spectrum to the other, and being accepted (will revisit this.) Anyway, Friday night. As with most of my interactions, there was a teensy bit of awkward to begin with, which-- as the dancing commenced-- soon dissipated. There was a little bit of rope, but only for a minute, and a chain for a quick second too, but nothing like the other night (the prospect itself was pretty exciting, though.) It was still amazingly hot though, especially when I finally figured out that he was packing (oh man. There were a couple of times where we might as well have been fucking in the middle of the dance floor. It felt obscene [and so, obviously, I enjoyed it even more. hehe]) A few times, in between or during dances, the way he said 'fuuuck' or shook himself as if my hotness was too much to take made me play certain things up even more (yes, I am a tease.) Later, as we were saying goodbye, we were both so worked up-- he had me growling-- I was about ready to fuck anywhere, but it was not going to happen. We did make a tentative plan to meet next week, though, when he'll be house-sitting for someone...
Saw S last night, wonderful hugs ensued. As I came home yesterday I realized that I expect people to get tired of me, or that I will always be more enthusiastic about them than them about me. I suppose it's social paranoia that's a hangover from middle school/high school drama, but it seems odd that it's such a strong feeling, though I have plenty of evidence to support the idea that I am a lovable person and an enjoyable one to have around. I keep feeling like any day now they're going to find the "real me"/some reason to not like me, latch on that, and it will all fall into the same familiar pattern of dodging. I recognize that this is a somewhat unfounded fear, but it's interesting to observe.
Also, (unrelated) I have noticed that my appreciation of electronic music increases with proportion to my age. My hypothesis is that happens in many people, but the basis has to be from quite a dislike of electronic-based music (or maybe just what techno I encountered in Italy at ages 6-10) for any comparison to be made.
Another thing of note that occurred yesterday: As I was walking with G&AD and S&C (grouped according to who was holding hands) I acknowledged that sometime in the past I would have been made to feel lonely in that situation. Instead, I felt fine, felt like I didn't desperately need to have anyone to hold hands with right now.
(Later, we all held hands, that was pretty cute.)
Yesterday I received another shocking tsunami wave of emotion, turning the corner into S's driveway to see a car that I thought was J's. I think I'm doing just dandy, and I am, but then these break me down for a little bit and I have to take some time to rebuild my oceanfront walls with some new mortar. I have to admit that last night I cuddled a certain stuffed animal in a manner I haven't cuddled one in years-- I didn't even let go in my sleep like I usually would. Then I woke up, agitated, and wrote a poem for the first time since November 30th (I can't believe it's been that long, that's tragic.) I haven't re-read it again, so I don't know if it's any good or not; I presume it's the usual caliber of the poetry I write when it's been a while (i.e. poor; it takes me a while to get back into the swing of it.) Needless to say, I'm experiencing a bit of tumultuous sensation this morning.
On a completely different note, Friday was a trip. I went dancing with SJ again. One thing I love about doing that is that as of yet I have not changed my clothes from what I was wearing all day (aside from removing layers), there's been no aspect of cultivation of a certain impression. In the past, my dressing up/manipulation of impression management (to be all social anthropology on it) has kind of annoyed me, as it usually does when I feel like I'm changing myself to please others (not that me dressing up is expressly changing anything about myself, since I do that anyway, but if I decide against something I love just to upkeep some impact I believe I'm having with one style, it's not true.) What I mean to say is that I've been dressing myself, from one spectrum to the other, and being accepted (will revisit this.) Anyway, Friday night. As with most of my interactions, there was a teensy bit of awkward to begin with, which-- as the dancing commenced-- soon dissipated. There was a little bit of rope, but only for a minute, and a chain for a quick second too, but nothing like the other night (the prospect itself was pretty exciting, though.) It was still amazingly hot though, especially when I finally figured out that he was packing (oh man. There were a couple of times where we might as well have been fucking in the middle of the dance floor. It felt obscene [and so, obviously, I enjoyed it even more. hehe]) A few times, in between or during dances, the way he said 'fuuuck' or shook himself as if my hotness was too much to take made me play certain things up even more (yes, I am a tease.) Later, as we were saying goodbye, we were both so worked up-- he had me growling-- I was about ready to fuck anywhere, but it was not going to happen. We did make a tentative plan to meet next week, though, when he'll be house-sitting for someone...
Saw S last night, wonderful hugs ensued. As I came home yesterday I realized that I expect people to get tired of me, or that I will always be more enthusiastic about them than them about me. I suppose it's social paranoia that's a hangover from middle school/high school drama, but it seems odd that it's such a strong feeling, though I have plenty of evidence to support the idea that I am a lovable person and an enjoyable one to have around. I keep feeling like any day now they're going to find the "real me"/some reason to not like me, latch on that, and it will all fall into the same familiar pattern of dodging. I recognize that this is a somewhat unfounded fear, but it's interesting to observe.
Also, (unrelated) I have noticed that my appreciation of electronic music increases with proportion to my age. My hypothesis is that happens in many people, but the basis has to be from quite a dislike of electronic-based music (or maybe just what techno I encountered in Italy at ages 6-10) for any comparison to be made.
Another thing of note that occurred yesterday: As I was walking with G&AD and S&C (grouped according to who was holding hands) I acknowledged that sometime in the past I would have been made to feel lonely in that situation. Instead, I felt fine, felt like I didn't desperately need to have anyone to hold hands with right now.
(Later, we all held hands, that was pretty cute.)
Thursday, April 2, 2009
We looked like giants in the back of my grey sub-compact
(Death Cab for Cutie)
JF called me today. That in itself is actually a pretty common occurrence-- we talk quite often. Today, though, it was a little different. He had been out all day in Bath with his uncle, who was taking his friends and loved ones there to thank them for supporting him through the death of his wife this time last year. So JF was in a very contemplative and emotional mood. He said he'd been thinking about all the people that are most important to him, and that's why he called me, and said that he loved me. The call wasn't all emotional outpouring, though, there was also a fair bit of our usual teasing each other and whatnot (at one point he said that even if a hit man came at me with a kalshnikoff, I'd be able to kick his arse if I was armed with a couple of balloons. [I am a wicked balloon-dueler. I'm also pretty adept with a pair of mittens.]) But then he started talking about me coming to London in May, and what's going to happen between us and whether I thought anything would happen. I told him nothing was going to happen, that we are just friends now, and he said that I couldn't rule anything out. I told him (repeatedly) that I didn't know what was going to happen, but it made me very nervous that he expected something from me. While we were talking and afterwards, he made me sad, but now that I think about our conversation more, it just makes me angry. Angry that the only attributes he ever really talks about missing to me are my pretty face and my ass, never mentioning anything about my intelligence or humour (that 'u' is intentional.) Angry that he didn't listen to me when I said nothing was going to happen, and that he didn't respect that as my decision. Angry that he still seems to think that our relationship was so la-di-da wonderful, when in reality it wasn't healthy for me in the end and I've told him this so many times. Angry that he had the exact reaction that I had predicted when I mentioned that I was going to meet up with JB ("Oh, so you're going to meet up with [JB] and have sex, then, are you?") Angry that he tried to make me feel guilty because we supposedly never had sex when he was cross-dressing (in actuality we did, but we took off the clothes before we actually got down to business, which was the protocol if I dressed up in a corset or anything, too.) The conversation was like a recap of our relationship: starting light-hearted, loving, and joyful; proceeding into misunderstanding, not listening, and frustration; and ending with no closure (and JB thrown in there as well-- how apt.) Most of all, it makes me really sad that he can't just think of me as a friend that he had a history with.
*deep breath*
I was having such a good and/or productive day, as well.
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On the plus side of the day, my brother asked me to be a witness for him and his girlfriend's civil ceremony, so I'm pretty happy about that. I love that they're just having something little and then a crazy-ass party in Italy to celebrate, rather than the big, white rigmarole that my other brother and his wife made us do (all the while treating my mother like poo. Can you tell I'm bitter?) If there was anyone who would ever make me believe in marriage, it's them (not in a religious sense-- I know a large reason they're doing it is the legal benefits as well as showing commitment to each other.)
-------------------------
I feel weird now, like I've done something wrong. Like I've cheated with JB again, except this time I actually feel guilty.
JF called me today. That in itself is actually a pretty common occurrence-- we talk quite often. Today, though, it was a little different. He had been out all day in Bath with his uncle, who was taking his friends and loved ones there to thank them for supporting him through the death of his wife this time last year. So JF was in a very contemplative and emotional mood. He said he'd been thinking about all the people that are most important to him, and that's why he called me, and said that he loved me. The call wasn't all emotional outpouring, though, there was also a fair bit of our usual teasing each other and whatnot (at one point he said that even if a hit man came at me with a kalshnikoff, I'd be able to kick his arse if I was armed with a couple of balloons. [I am a wicked balloon-dueler. I'm also pretty adept with a pair of mittens.]) But then he started talking about me coming to London in May, and what's going to happen between us and whether I thought anything would happen. I told him nothing was going to happen, that we are just friends now, and he said that I couldn't rule anything out. I told him (repeatedly) that I didn't know what was going to happen, but it made me very nervous that he expected something from me. While we were talking and afterwards, he made me sad, but now that I think about our conversation more, it just makes me angry. Angry that the only attributes he ever really talks about missing to me are my pretty face and my ass, never mentioning anything about my intelligence or humour (that 'u' is intentional.) Angry that he didn't listen to me when I said nothing was going to happen, and that he didn't respect that as my decision. Angry that he still seems to think that our relationship was so la-di-da wonderful, when in reality it wasn't healthy for me in the end and I've told him this so many times. Angry that he had the exact reaction that I had predicted when I mentioned that I was going to meet up with JB ("Oh, so you're going to meet up with [JB] and have sex, then, are you?") Angry that he tried to make me feel guilty because we supposedly never had sex when he was cross-dressing (in actuality we did, but we took off the clothes before we actually got down to business, which was the protocol if I dressed up in a corset or anything, too.) The conversation was like a recap of our relationship: starting light-hearted, loving, and joyful; proceeding into misunderstanding, not listening, and frustration; and ending with no closure (and JB thrown in there as well-- how apt.) Most of all, it makes me really sad that he can't just think of me as a friend that he had a history with.
*deep breath*
I was having such a good and/or productive day, as well.
------------------------
On the plus side of the day, my brother asked me to be a witness for him and his girlfriend's civil ceremony, so I'm pretty happy about that. I love that they're just having something little and then a crazy-ass party in Italy to celebrate, rather than the big, white rigmarole that my other brother and his wife made us do (all the while treating my mother like poo. Can you tell I'm bitter?) If there was anyone who would ever make me believe in marriage, it's them (not in a religious sense-- I know a large reason they're doing it is the legal benefits as well as showing commitment to each other.)
-------------------------
I feel weird now, like I've done something wrong. Like I've cheated with JB again, except this time I actually feel guilty.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Is it May Day?
Because there are red flags everywhere today.
So. Date with Sy was okay, better than I thought. We went to dinner at R. Thomas, which is kind of a kooky place but I was tired of all the usual places. I had convinced myself that she was more unattractive than she is, so that was a pleasant surprise (hey, I know it's shallow, but I also know how dancing can cause me to make some very bad choices, and I don't just mean looks-wise.) She got me to talk, which can sometimes be a feat. But there were a couple of things that make me even less than enthused about dating her:
1)She only orders the chicken, wherever she goes, and she cooks it at home, too. Even when I ate meat, I thought that chicken was boring. Signs point to lack of adventure= bigs points lost.
2)She said she can't do anything without a schedule, and balks at spontaneous plans. *red flashing lights* I need to be spontaneous, I am somewhat of a "free spirit", that just happens to habitually lock herself in a study-mad schedule.
3)Insecure texting/communication patterns: she texted me earlier today saying that she had a great time and that she hoped to see me again soon... and I, not sharing quite the enthusiasm, put off replying to her. Then, after I return to my piles of clothes, books, and papers that I call my room, I see that I have a text asking if I received the one she sent earlier. A bit too intense for me. (Although, if I were into her more, it probably wouldn't be. As is, I'm a little irritated by it. It's like clinginess before even going out.) This, in combination with her possessive swooping in after my one song of dancing with SJ that night, makes me more than a little wary.
Clearly, I'm not really wanting to date her. But, I also suck at turning people down, and don't really know how-- at least, not face to face. I'm thinking that I don't really have a lot of time to meet up with her anyway, so it's not going to be a huge issue, but I need to be able to just freaking say shit like this, so I'm going to think of how to phrase it. *shrug* I'm not really that bothered about it, though, which is just kind of indicative how tepid I feel on the whole matter.
So far, my experience of dating is a little iffy. But that may be because I'm pretty picky about who I want to spend vast amounts of time with. I'm good for short flings-- in that case, I don't have to be crazy about people-- but there are relatively few people that I actually get mad for. That's when I get scary and obsessive and fall hard. I don't know that I ever 'pick myself up' from those falls, either. I feel like I keep a little piece of my heart reserved for those special people (maybe that I have always ended things on a good note is part of that.) Fortunately for me (and other people, I guess), I have a very large heart. I wonder if I settle down with someone, if that someone will have the last reserved parking space in my heart. I wonder if that's possible :P I love to infinity? (Funny, not too long ago I was grappling with whether I believe in love or not. JB wrote some awesome stuff on that, which I will re-post sometime soon.)
"My heart won't stay entirely in this ribcage" -The Weepies, "Take it From Me" (did you really think I'd go one post without a song reference in some capacity? ha.)
So. Date with Sy was okay, better than I thought. We went to dinner at R. Thomas, which is kind of a kooky place but I was tired of all the usual places. I had convinced myself that she was more unattractive than she is, so that was a pleasant surprise (hey, I know it's shallow, but I also know how dancing can cause me to make some very bad choices, and I don't just mean looks-wise.) She got me to talk, which can sometimes be a feat. But there were a couple of things that make me even less than enthused about dating her:
1)She only orders the chicken, wherever she goes, and she cooks it at home, too. Even when I ate meat, I thought that chicken was boring. Signs point to lack of adventure= bigs points lost.
2)She said she can't do anything without a schedule, and balks at spontaneous plans. *red flashing lights* I need to be spontaneous, I am somewhat of a "free spirit", that just happens to habitually lock herself in a study-mad schedule.
3)Insecure texting/communication patterns: she texted me earlier today saying that she had a great time and that she hoped to see me again soon... and I, not sharing quite the enthusiasm, put off replying to her. Then, after I return to my piles of clothes, books, and papers that I call my room, I see that I have a text asking if I received the one she sent earlier. A bit too intense for me. (Although, if I were into her more, it probably wouldn't be. As is, I'm a little irritated by it. It's like clinginess before even going out.) This, in combination with her possessive swooping in after my one song of dancing with SJ that night, makes me more than a little wary.
Clearly, I'm not really wanting to date her. But, I also suck at turning people down, and don't really know how-- at least, not face to face. I'm thinking that I don't really have a lot of time to meet up with her anyway, so it's not going to be a huge issue, but I need to be able to just freaking say shit like this, so I'm going to think of how to phrase it. *shrug* I'm not really that bothered about it, though, which is just kind of indicative how tepid I feel on the whole matter.
So far, my experience of dating is a little iffy. But that may be because I'm pretty picky about who I want to spend vast amounts of time with. I'm good for short flings-- in that case, I don't have to be crazy about people-- but there are relatively few people that I actually get mad for. That's when I get scary and obsessive and fall hard. I don't know that I ever 'pick myself up' from those falls, either. I feel like I keep a little piece of my heart reserved for those special people (maybe that I have always ended things on a good note is part of that.) Fortunately for me (and other people, I guess), I have a very large heart. I wonder if I settle down with someone, if that someone will have the last reserved parking space in my heart. I wonder if that's possible :P I love to infinity? (Funny, not too long ago I was grappling with whether I believe in love or not. JB wrote some awesome stuff on that, which I will re-post sometime soon.)
"My heart won't stay entirely in this ribcage" -The Weepies, "Take it From Me" (did you really think I'd go one post without a song reference in some capacity? ha.)
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Every twelve seconds, someone remembers
(Ben Lee- All in this together)
Week whooshed by. It's been crazy busy (Physics test on Monday, Chemistry test on Wednesday night from 9pm-11 [that was my fault, it was a take-home.]) and fun. Went dancing twice at MSR... I forgot just how much I love to dance, plus getting attention is always gratifying. (Ha, typical Leo.) I've had some flirty correspondence too, with cisguys from the Martin (the ones that I didn't have any relations with; none from Tor) one of whom said something about how when he first met me he thought I was an amazing, elven, pixie with great style, and that since I've known him only positive things have been added to that list. The other one and I were discussing the possibilities of me dressing up as either Leeloo Dallas (5th Element) or Emma Frost (X men comics/ TV show), both of whom wear rather little. Dancing involved some make-out time, too (more about that below.) I also have a potential date with SS, to watch Coupling= amazing. Oh, and I have a date with Sy tonight (eh. more about this below, too.) Attention is coming from everywhere, and I plan on just basking in it a while, rather than being overwhelmed and maybe a little scared as I was before.
Speaking of Leos and getting attention, here is what msn said my horoscope for today was: Your love life is a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors today, dear Leo, full of complicated patterns and ever-changing displays of beauty. Everywhere you turn, a new perspective is revealed, and you learn something new about yourself and the people you are involved with. Remain open to the idea of partnership on multiple levels in which you experience different levels of commitment with different people. Every color is needed to make a complete rainbow.
Just thought that was very interesting. I know, we twist it all to fit our lives, but I especially loved that the rainbow came into it, because it encapsulates the different levels and gay pride in one fell swoop.
Went to dinner with S on Friday before we went to MSR, and it totally recharged me. So infinitely grateful for her short stint of the pre-med course: thank you, Universe. I told LJ (not LiveJournal) last week that S was pretty much the reason I was getting through this year, and I don't think that's exaggerating.
Later, at MSR, lots of dancing went down. Some with some cute girls, but ended up mostly being with SJ... it seems if I dance with anyone for any length of time I end up making out with them. That sounds different than what I mean it to, though. I had every intention of dancing (and making out) with SJ. What I was referring to really had more to do with Sy, who in retrospect I probably shouldn't have kissed. But I am a sucker for a good kiss (no pun or innuendo intended.) On the other hand, I'm going to reserve further judgment until our date tonight.
Aha! It just hit me why I'm so overwhelmed with all of this: I have never dated before. I've had a boyfriend, but JF and I got together by drunkenly making out for a couple of nights in a row, and then asking where it was going. JB and I (if that counts as an actual relationship. I have been known to describe my past love life as 'one and a bit' boyfriends-- hehe) also made out drunkenly (though the drunken aspect could have been dropped had we not both needed a bit of dutch courage.) All other relationships/relations I've had have not really started by dating. I am, apparently, pretty easy to pick up (maybe a bit difficult to keep, though.)
Anyways. Dancing yesterday was an elevated version of what happened on the back end of Friday night. SJ and I were there together, not with a group, for one. Also, there was a cuff, and some rope. (Oh My God. Light bondage+dancing+in a public space [with my exhibitionism]= so fucking hot. Add some kissing in there... yowza.) Then later, he gave me a flower (the first wildflower in his garden, apparently) in a little glass coke bottle, which was super-cute. Overall, a nice blend of kink lite and sweetness made for a good night.
Oh, and I also went out to dinner with a bunch of people from my course, and I outed myself to JP talking about MSR and meeting Sy today (She asked me if it was someone special, I think she kind of knew already-- she has some good gaydar) which was cool, but a little odd being at the table across from Q and next to P, who had just been talking about people being lesbians for 4 years while in ASC as if it were an actual phenomenon where they got out of the school and then completely reverted to heterosexuality. (I made faces behind his back. So mature.)
J called me yesterday. I've been averaging maybe 4 hours of sleep a night, so I wasn't at my most coherent... plus I always feel such a strong surge of giddiness and intense desire to please when I talk to him (still) that I get all tongue-tied or babble about stupid stuff. I'm getting better at just bluntly acknowledging to myself that I miss the pants off of him. Last week I was getting all depressed thinking about having to live in Atlanta for longer than I had planned, but there are aspects that have their pluses about it: a)more S time, b)no rent, and c)increased probability of seeing J again. I'm even thinking it may be a good strategy for med school to apply to a state school (cheaper, too.) I wouldn't have to live here for the rest of my life. (in fact, I know I wouldn't)
There's always something more to write about, but Biology reading calls.
Also, I have noticed that when I sing along to that ridiculous "I Kissed a Girl" song, I sing "hope my girlfriend don't mind it" (rather than boyfriend.) Interesting. (but then, I also sing, "we named our children after stars that we'd never been to" for Modest Mouse. hehe.)
Week whooshed by. It's been crazy busy (Physics test on Monday, Chemistry test on Wednesday night from 9pm-11 [that was my fault, it was a take-home.]) and fun. Went dancing twice at MSR... I forgot just how much I love to dance, plus getting attention is always gratifying. (Ha, typical Leo.) I've had some flirty correspondence too, with cisguys from the Martin (the ones that I didn't have any relations with; none from Tor) one of whom said something about how when he first met me he thought I was an amazing, elven, pixie with great style, and that since I've known him only positive things have been added to that list. The other one and I were discussing the possibilities of me dressing up as either Leeloo Dallas (5th Element) or Emma Frost (X men comics/ TV show), both of whom wear rather little. Dancing involved some make-out time, too (more about that below.) I also have a potential date with SS, to watch Coupling= amazing. Oh, and I have a date with Sy tonight (eh. more about this below, too.) Attention is coming from everywhere, and I plan on just basking in it a while, rather than being overwhelmed and maybe a little scared as I was before.
Speaking of Leos and getting attention, here is what msn said my horoscope for today was: Your love life is a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors today, dear Leo, full of complicated patterns and ever-changing displays of beauty. Everywhere you turn, a new perspective is revealed, and you learn something new about yourself and the people you are involved with. Remain open to the idea of partnership on multiple levels in which you experience different levels of commitment with different people. Every color is needed to make a complete rainbow.
Just thought that was very interesting. I know, we twist it all to fit our lives, but I especially loved that the rainbow came into it, because it encapsulates the different levels and gay pride in one fell swoop.
Went to dinner with S on Friday before we went to MSR, and it totally recharged me. So infinitely grateful for her short stint of the pre-med course: thank you, Universe. I told LJ (not LiveJournal) last week that S was pretty much the reason I was getting through this year, and I don't think that's exaggerating.
Later, at MSR, lots of dancing went down. Some with some cute girls, but ended up mostly being with SJ... it seems if I dance with anyone for any length of time I end up making out with them. That sounds different than what I mean it to, though. I had every intention of dancing (and making out) with SJ. What I was referring to really had more to do with Sy, who in retrospect I probably shouldn't have kissed. But I am a sucker for a good kiss (no pun or innuendo intended.) On the other hand, I'm going to reserve further judgment until our date tonight.
Aha! It just hit me why I'm so overwhelmed with all of this: I have never dated before. I've had a boyfriend, but JF and I got together by drunkenly making out for a couple of nights in a row, and then asking where it was going. JB and I (if that counts as an actual relationship. I have been known to describe my past love life as 'one and a bit' boyfriends-- hehe) also made out drunkenly (though the drunken aspect could have been dropped had we not both needed a bit of dutch courage.) All other relationships/relations I've had have not really started by dating. I am, apparently, pretty easy to pick up (maybe a bit difficult to keep, though.)
Anyways. Dancing yesterday was an elevated version of what happened on the back end of Friday night. SJ and I were there together, not with a group, for one. Also, there was a cuff, and some rope. (Oh My God. Light bondage+dancing+in a public space [with my exhibitionism]= so fucking hot. Add some kissing in there... yowza.) Then later, he gave me a flower (the first wildflower in his garden, apparently) in a little glass coke bottle, which was super-cute. Overall, a nice blend of kink lite and sweetness made for a good night.
Oh, and I also went out to dinner with a bunch of people from my course, and I outed myself to JP talking about MSR and meeting Sy today (She asked me if it was someone special, I think she kind of knew already-- she has some good gaydar) which was cool, but a little odd being at the table across from Q and next to P, who had just been talking about people being lesbians for 4 years while in ASC as if it were an actual phenomenon where they got out of the school and then completely reverted to heterosexuality. (I made faces behind his back. So mature.)
J called me yesterday. I've been averaging maybe 4 hours of sleep a night, so I wasn't at my most coherent... plus I always feel such a strong surge of giddiness and intense desire to please when I talk to him (still) that I get all tongue-tied or babble about stupid stuff. I'm getting better at just bluntly acknowledging to myself that I miss the pants off of him. Last week I was getting all depressed thinking about having to live in Atlanta for longer than I had planned, but there are aspects that have their pluses about it: a)more S time, b)no rent, and c)increased probability of seeing J again. I'm even thinking it may be a good strategy for med school to apply to a state school (cheaper, too.) I wouldn't have to live here for the rest of my life. (in fact, I know I wouldn't)
There's always something more to write about, but Biology reading calls.
Also, I have noticed that when I sing along to that ridiculous "I Kissed a Girl" song, I sing "hope my girlfriend don't mind it" (rather than boyfriend.) Interesting. (but then, I also sing, "we named our children after stars that we'd never been to" for Modest Mouse. hehe.)
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Then somebody loves you just enough
(Bernard Fanning, from Powderfinger)
Today was a tough day. I woke up from a dream about being molested (very vivid, extremely disturbing.) to groggily drive to school and sit through chem and bio, all while feeling nauseous and guilty about food and anxiety about the test I have to turn in by Thursday morning. Then I got a text from J (a million minutes late, because the Science Center apparently sucks whatever signal there is along with a few souls.) For the past three weeks I've been diddling along, trying to get on with whatever approximation of living I've been doing. Today, I realized to what extent my ways of coping with saying goodbye involve forgetting. Trying to forget the way it felt, so that I can't compare it to the present; trying to forget that I even met him, that we ever interacted... which is horrible, and really sad. It's not that I actually succeed in the attempts to forget, but after all the goodbyes I've said in my life, why am I unable to look back and reminisce without the poignancy, the nostalgia becoming overwhelming? Why can't I just enjoy the re-hashing of scenes and sensations (insofar as much as possible) without wishing to not be in this moment (which is definitely something I want to avoid)?
With this goodbye, in particular, I have run the gamut (so to speak) of reactions: I've been angry, sad, hurt, and even relieved to some extent (the latter mostly being because I was having trouble focusing on studying, when I need as close to a 4.0 I can get to apply to med school-- so far, I'm at a 3.89, or something.) But today, (and the other day), when I heard from him spontaneously, when I was alerted to the fact that I'm still on his mind despite everything that's going down in a new and exciting place, I was struck. Struck by how much I miss him, by the very fact that I'm important, by how much I was holding back, by the strangeness of my mode of coping, and by how it seems so callous. No wonder I'm afraid of being forgotten, when this is the way I deal with things. I braced myself for a big reaction at the beginning, when I thought I had time to deal with it a little more... but now is when it's hitting me, when it's been three weeks or so. So I try to deal with studying for my tests and struggling with myself for control of anything, when in actuality all I really want to do right now is write and cry and sleep and draw and dream, and then maybe go dancing when I wake up.
Today was a tough day. I woke up from a dream about being molested (very vivid, extremely disturbing.) to groggily drive to school and sit through chem and bio, all while feeling nauseous and guilty about food and anxiety about the test I have to turn in by Thursday morning. Then I got a text from J (a million minutes late, because the Science Center apparently sucks whatever signal there is along with a few souls.) For the past three weeks I've been diddling along, trying to get on with whatever approximation of living I've been doing. Today, I realized to what extent my ways of coping with saying goodbye involve forgetting. Trying to forget the way it felt, so that I can't compare it to the present; trying to forget that I even met him, that we ever interacted... which is horrible, and really sad. It's not that I actually succeed in the attempts to forget, but after all the goodbyes I've said in my life, why am I unable to look back and reminisce without the poignancy, the nostalgia becoming overwhelming? Why can't I just enjoy the re-hashing of scenes and sensations (insofar as much as possible) without wishing to not be in this moment (which is definitely something I want to avoid)?
With this goodbye, in particular, I have run the gamut (so to speak) of reactions: I've been angry, sad, hurt, and even relieved to some extent (the latter mostly being because I was having trouble focusing on studying, when I need as close to a 4.0 I can get to apply to med school-- so far, I'm at a 3.89, or something.) But today, (and the other day), when I heard from him spontaneously, when I was alerted to the fact that I'm still on his mind despite everything that's going down in a new and exciting place, I was struck. Struck by how much I miss him, by the very fact that I'm important, by how much I was holding back, by the strangeness of my mode of coping, and by how it seems so callous. No wonder I'm afraid of being forgotten, when this is the way I deal with things. I braced myself for a big reaction at the beginning, when I thought I had time to deal with it a little more... but now is when it's hitting me, when it's been three weeks or so. So I try to deal with studying for my tests and struggling with myself for control of anything, when in actuality all I really want to do right now is write and cry and sleep and draw and dream, and then maybe go dancing when I wake up.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
This is not [my] year
(more Weepies. There may be a bit of an obsession going on there.)
Actually, this isn't a downer post, despite the title. (That just happens to be the song that's in my head right this second, which is often how my blog gets titled. It's kind of like providing you with my internal soundtrack.)
I don't actually have much of a point to this post, either. (I know, you must be thinking 'does she ever?') I just felt like I wanted to blog, as a release from studying for Physics all day (test tomorrow, whoopie! I'm still going to run before class, though. If I don't know it by now and all that jazz)
Yesterday I was meant to stay home and study while my parents went to someone's house for dinner. Instead, I went out with S, because I knew that if I stayed home I'd just end up eating and eating and eating as I had been all day and getting increasingly angry/frustrated at myself. So I went to immerse myself in some Atlanta queer culture and play with my newly-discovered (possibly dangerous) toy. By which I mean my attractiveness. Seriously, I knew I was pretty, but there are some very strong reactions that I am not used to at all. In MSR some woman was making her way across the dance floor and stopped right in front of me and said "oh, wow." 'Oh, wow?', I was thinking, since when did I garner a reaction like that? I remember going to straight clubs and thinking that I wasn't turning any heads at all (maybe I've written all this before. Sometimes I lose track. Bear with me if I have.) Excuse me, I'm just a bit amazed. I always thought I was ugly growing up, or just too chubby/fat for any prepubescent boys or girls to openly fancy me, at any rate. All this is a learning experience, and I think this might help me get over how shy I am with people I fancy.
Anyway. There was one girl I danced with that I wanted to get the number of, but didn't (she might have tried to find me later like she said, but I was outside for a bit... who knows?) and then another that I danced with who I did get the number of and also some kisses. Let me just say, I really love kisses. Maybe it's my oral fixation, but it's just... a good kiss really makes or breaks a lot. (and sometimes it's not worth the training. On the other hand, sometimes it really is.) There were a couple interesting moments from the night that I wanted to note(ok, more than a couple, but these are my choices):
One was when I smiled at someone going past me in the crowd at the burlesque show. As she went behind me, she ran her hand down my spine. Oh, so sexy.
Another was more just an observation of insecurity/staking of territory-- when I was dancing with SJ for the song he requested, Sy (no last name to make reference by initials, so this will have the suffice for the moment.) hovered around (not dancing), and then as the song seemed to end, swooped in to grab me from SJ. Kind of cute, kind of sad, and kind of creepy all at once. Made me feel a little like a commodity, which I most certainly did not like. I'm not sure the attention I got paid quite made up for that, either. I guess I should talk to Sy about not wanting to date seriously at the moment.
The last thing I wanted to note was when I was dancing with SJ he put his hand on my hips and pulled my belt loop toward him so I would be dancing on him, which I liked rather a lot. Maybe I was just majorly turned on by that point, but the fact remains that I found it rather sexy.
Oh, and one last thing-- of the people that approached me/ danced with me, they were smart. B, the girl I didn't get the number of, is studying for the MCAT too (to take it in July), and Sy is a math teacher. How refreshing, after meeting thick people on the pull at other times. (Now that I really think about it, though, how many times have I honestly been on the pull? Not all that many times. I have spent some time with people with not all that much up top, I must say-- predominantly, TG comes to mind.)
Of all of this, I want to try to remember that I am in control. I'm not going to string anyone along, and I'm not in a place to play games.
(Shit. And I should go over these equations one last time before beddy-byes.)
Actually, this isn't a downer post, despite the title. (That just happens to be the song that's in my head right this second, which is often how my blog gets titled. It's kind of like providing you with my internal soundtrack.)
I don't actually have much of a point to this post, either. (I know, you must be thinking 'does she ever?') I just felt like I wanted to blog, as a release from studying for Physics all day (test tomorrow, whoopie! I'm still going to run before class, though. If I don't know it by now and all that jazz)
Yesterday I was meant to stay home and study while my parents went to someone's house for dinner. Instead, I went out with S, because I knew that if I stayed home I'd just end up eating and eating and eating as I had been all day and getting increasingly angry/frustrated at myself. So I went to immerse myself in some Atlanta queer culture and play with my newly-discovered (possibly dangerous) toy. By which I mean my attractiveness. Seriously, I knew I was pretty, but there are some very strong reactions that I am not used to at all. In MSR some woman was making her way across the dance floor and stopped right in front of me and said "oh, wow." 'Oh, wow?', I was thinking, since when did I garner a reaction like that? I remember going to straight clubs and thinking that I wasn't turning any heads at all (maybe I've written all this before. Sometimes I lose track. Bear with me if I have.) Excuse me, I'm just a bit amazed. I always thought I was ugly growing up, or just too chubby/fat for any prepubescent boys or girls to openly fancy me, at any rate. All this is a learning experience, and I think this might help me get over how shy I am with people I fancy.
Anyway. There was one girl I danced with that I wanted to get the number of, but didn't (she might have tried to find me later like she said, but I was outside for a bit... who knows?) and then another that I danced with who I did get the number of and also some kisses. Let me just say, I really love kisses. Maybe it's my oral fixation, but it's just... a good kiss really makes or breaks a lot. (and sometimes it's not worth the training. On the other hand, sometimes it really is.) There were a couple interesting moments from the night that I wanted to note(ok, more than a couple, but these are my choices):
One was when I smiled at someone going past me in the crowd at the burlesque show. As she went behind me, she ran her hand down my spine. Oh, so sexy.
Another was more just an observation of insecurity/staking of territory-- when I was dancing with SJ for the song he requested, Sy (no last name to make reference by initials, so this will have the suffice for the moment.) hovered around (not dancing), and then as the song seemed to end, swooped in to grab me from SJ. Kind of cute, kind of sad, and kind of creepy all at once. Made me feel a little like a commodity, which I most certainly did not like. I'm not sure the attention I got paid quite made up for that, either. I guess I should talk to Sy about not wanting to date seriously at the moment.
The last thing I wanted to note was when I was dancing with SJ he put his hand on my hips and pulled my belt loop toward him so I would be dancing on him, which I liked rather a lot. Maybe I was just majorly turned on by that point, but the fact remains that I found it rather sexy.
Oh, and one last thing-- of the people that approached me/ danced with me, they were smart. B, the girl I didn't get the number of, is studying for the MCAT too (to take it in July), and Sy is a math teacher. How refreshing, after meeting thick people on the pull at other times. (Now that I really think about it, though, how many times have I honestly been on the pull? Not all that many times. I have spent some time with people with not all that much up top, I must say-- predominantly, TG comes to mind.)
Of all of this, I want to try to remember that I am in control. I'm not going to string anyone along, and I'm not in a place to play games.
(Shit. And I should go over these equations one last time before beddy-byes.)
Sunday, March 15, 2009
You're not a baby if you feel the world
(The Blow)
Yesterday I was utterly unproductive, and was getting increasingly angry at myself for it (as well as pissed off and upset about pretty much anything that presented itself to me) so I went for a run. It was good, as per usual, and I felt an odd ability to disconnect myself from my music and think, which sometimes I have a lot of difficulty doing (if the music doesn't fit with my mood, especially.) At one point, I felt such a huge surge of emotion that I started crying, whilst running. Then, a few minutes (or was it seconds?) passed and I was laughing at some thing or another. That's one amazing thing about weaning off of my meds-- I feel such a large range of emotion, it's like waking up after years of being asleep. I have also wondered in the past whether my ability to come has been affected by weaning off of meds. I know it's definitely different than when I was on the birth control that killed my libido, and I know I felt more when I went off the second med that psychiatrist had me on (oh man. At the time I stayed with him because he was helping some aspects, but he blatantly ignored that I might have an eating disorder just because I seemed to be a healthy weight. What a fuckwad. Story of my relationships that I stayed with him, I suppose.) [On a related note, I'm going to try skipping nights with my meds, since I can't break the 1/4 any more.]
Anyways, after said run, I found a missed call and a text, the latter inviting me to a queer party, which I heartily accepted the invitation. I figured, if I was going to be unproductive, I may as well have fun doing it. So I went, and had a somewhat bizarre time. S had mentioned a long time ago about how she thought the queer scene here would love me, but I never really took it seriously. Yesterday, though, I got so much attention. I'm an attention-whore, and I know it, but I really didn't know what to do with it. That's a whole lot more potential power than I'm used to wielding (at least, in a group setting) and I felt very and extremely naive. I got my shoelaces tied together, I got my hair played with (and tugged), I got snuggles, I got comments that I was cute from people that apparently only usually notice bois, offers of cooking... for someone who is somewhat shy in new situations, I was a little overwhelmed, to put it simply. But I had a wonderful time. It makes me think of when I was much younger and MS was speculating about how I need to be careful when I discover how pretty I am, because I could do some dangerous things to myself if I didn't know how to wield it. And I don't know how to wield it, because-- as silly as it sounds and as often as people tell me-- I sometimes have a hard time discovering it. (It should be noted that at other times I do know it, and strut around like a right old prick.) It was a very interesting experience. I'd like to learn how to react a little better, I think I was just a little amazed and taken aback at the time.
Today was not a huge amount more productive, but I did get my chem lab done (at 6:10. I had been "working" on it since 12.) In between "working" I was thinking about the economy and brainstorming little ways that I could help, at least my family:
*go through my stuff, pick things that I need and get rid of the rest (either selling, charity, or re-using in a different way)
*volunteer (at Grady-- which I have an interview for tomorrow. eek!-- and/or at foodbanks)
*wearing more layers and turning the heat down (so glad spring is coming)
*not buying more music
(the next two are kind of embarrassing and ED related, but:)
*fit into my clothes so that I don't have to buy more
*eat only what is necessary so that we don't have to buy as much
*be healthy so that we don't have to pay medical/dental/whatever bills
*turning off my computer so that I don't use as much electricity
and
*not being afraid to cook, so that we can use some of the resources of our cupboards (we always joked that they were stocked for an apocalypse)
also, I was reading a Psychology Today article that said that there were three practices that would help deal with the stress of economic crisis: deep breathing, light exercise, and listening to music. Sounds like a good idea to me :)
Yesterday I was utterly unproductive, and was getting increasingly angry at myself for it (as well as pissed off and upset about pretty much anything that presented itself to me) so I went for a run. It was good, as per usual, and I felt an odd ability to disconnect myself from my music and think, which sometimes I have a lot of difficulty doing (if the music doesn't fit with my mood, especially.) At one point, I felt such a huge surge of emotion that I started crying, whilst running. Then, a few minutes (or was it seconds?) passed and I was laughing at some thing or another. That's one amazing thing about weaning off of my meds-- I feel such a large range of emotion, it's like waking up after years of being asleep. I have also wondered in the past whether my ability to come has been affected by weaning off of meds. I know it's definitely different than when I was on the birth control that killed my libido, and I know I felt more when I went off the second med that psychiatrist had me on (oh man. At the time I stayed with him because he was helping some aspects, but he blatantly ignored that I might have an eating disorder just because I seemed to be a healthy weight. What a fuckwad. Story of my relationships that I stayed with him, I suppose.) [On a related note, I'm going to try skipping nights with my meds, since I can't break the 1/4 any more.]
Anyways, after said run, I found a missed call and a text, the latter inviting me to a queer party, which I heartily accepted the invitation. I figured, if I was going to be unproductive, I may as well have fun doing it. So I went, and had a somewhat bizarre time. S had mentioned a long time ago about how she thought the queer scene here would love me, but I never really took it seriously. Yesterday, though, I got so much attention. I'm an attention-whore, and I know it, but I really didn't know what to do with it. That's a whole lot more potential power than I'm used to wielding (at least, in a group setting) and I felt very and extremely naive. I got my shoelaces tied together, I got my hair played with (and tugged), I got snuggles, I got comments that I was cute from people that apparently only usually notice bois, offers of cooking... for someone who is somewhat shy in new situations, I was a little overwhelmed, to put it simply. But I had a wonderful time. It makes me think of when I was much younger and MS was speculating about how I need to be careful when I discover how pretty I am, because I could do some dangerous things to myself if I didn't know how to wield it. And I don't know how to wield it, because-- as silly as it sounds and as often as people tell me-- I sometimes have a hard time discovering it. (It should be noted that at other times I do know it, and strut around like a right old prick.) It was a very interesting experience. I'd like to learn how to react a little better, I think I was just a little amazed and taken aback at the time.
Today was not a huge amount more productive, but I did get my chem lab done (at 6:10. I had been "working" on it since 12.) In between "working" I was thinking about the economy and brainstorming little ways that I could help, at least my family:
*go through my stuff, pick things that I need and get rid of the rest (either selling, charity, or re-using in a different way)
*volunteer (at Grady-- which I have an interview for tomorrow. eek!-- and/or at foodbanks)
*wearing more layers and turning the heat down (so glad spring is coming)
*not buying more music
(the next two are kind of embarrassing and ED related, but:)
*fit into my clothes so that I don't have to buy more
*eat only what is necessary so that we don't have to buy as much
*be healthy so that we don't have to pay medical/dental/whatever bills
*turning off my computer so that I don't use as much electricity
and
*not being afraid to cook, so that we can use some of the resources of our cupboards (we always joked that they were stocked for an apocalypse)
also, I was reading a Psychology Today article that said that there were three practices that would help deal with the stress of economic crisis: deep breathing, light exercise, and listening to music. Sounds like a good idea to me :)
Friday, March 13, 2009
Taken out of context I must seem so strange
(Ani DiFranco)
Yesterday I went to an event about "Transformative Justice" which was interesting, though I wanted more: it was too much of a teaser for me to feel fully satisfied. What really sparked me was the way they begun: they asked everyone to share their name (which they subsequently remembered, I loved that) and one way in which they have observed the economic crisis cause an increase in violence in their community. As we went around, I got more ideas-- but as usual didn't think they were worth sharing. Why do I pass such harsh judgment on myself?-- but some people had some awesome ways of interpreting 'violence' that really made me thing. For example, violence to the self: not just self harm (which we all know can stem from the desperation that an economic crisis can entail) but also the choice to stay in/take a job that is not a passion/love, or the choice to go back to/stay in an abusive relationship because (more than ever) it seems like there is no where else to go. I wish I'd had my notebook near me, I could have retained more. Later, over sweet potato fries with Tasmanian pepperberry sauce (yum), S mentioned how my choice to not be vegan against my express will was a form of violence to myself caused in part by the economic crisis, which really hit home. Overall, I enjoyed the event a lot, though I could have done more with a couple hours more (at least) of dialogue and presentation. (Also, one of the presenters was pretty hot-- which was amplified by her clear passion for the subject and intelligence) The only thing that I didn't like was how it reminded me of how removed I am from theoretical analysis these days. It reminded me of the urgency of regaining/retaining my vocabulary and literary ability. [speaking of which: a word I had forgotten the meaning of, but love: maudlin (self-pityingly or tearfully sentimental--COED)] I can't pretend that it won't help me in life, and I need it for my sanity. Now all I need is methods that can be implicated in between science classes and volunteering and studying for MCATs,etc., etc. (Oh, I do love to complain. Life is not bad. In fact, it's pretty good right now-- but that may be mostly because I have lots of reflection time with Spring Break.)
On the topic of reflection, I've been kind of dodging/being dodged by J in terms of communication. Which, considering the email exchange on Monday, I'm not taking personally. As for my side of it, this is quite a common technique for me-- this way it's easier for me to pretend that nothing happened (having a crap memory helps.) Which isn't to say that I haven't been thinking about it. I was at my pseudo-family's house again earlier today, taking care of their dog, and though I have so many memories of that house (Christmases, random days, childhood... those don't just fade) they've been tainted by the faint scent of a recollection, of moans on the couch, of waking up together early in the extra bedroom... But I'm not going there. It doesn't do me any good to dwell on the past, as I should well know by now. I'm trying to live in the moment (well, insofar as that is possible in a culture that constantly demands forethought and planning, and as a pre-med student, to boot.)
Something I wrote yesterday on the subject: "Something about the evening makes me full of nostalgia and regrets-- which may be why it's usually my over-eating time as well. But I am focusing on the here and now: I am waking up, my body is waking up, my mouth feels thirst, my eyes are still crusted (allergies, ahoy!). I'm laying on the couch with a band of sunlight striping across my body, with thoughts of the past flashing in my mind. I'm not fighting them, just observing them, as Osho says to do. Lots of J looking down or away, nothing where we're interacting (probably significant.) My stomach is twisting slightly, I can feel the fan's air waves play with my skin's hair. I am thinking I am going for a run. And not in the graveyard, either."
(apologies for the stream-of-consciousness faults.)
Anyways, I think that sums it up nicely-- life goes on, with flitting images of memories. I read somewhere once that every time you recall a memory your brain alters it in some way, so it's never true to the actual experience anymore. So it's all just a fantasy now. Somehow, to my storyteller self, instead of that being a depressing thought, I find that quite comforting.
Yesterday I went to an event about "Transformative Justice" which was interesting, though I wanted more: it was too much of a teaser for me to feel fully satisfied. What really sparked me was the way they begun: they asked everyone to share their name (which they subsequently remembered, I loved that) and one way in which they have observed the economic crisis cause an increase in violence in their community. As we went around, I got more ideas-- but as usual didn't think they were worth sharing. Why do I pass such harsh judgment on myself?-- but some people had some awesome ways of interpreting 'violence' that really made me thing. For example, violence to the self: not just self harm (which we all know can stem from the desperation that an economic crisis can entail) but also the choice to stay in/take a job that is not a passion/love, or the choice to go back to/stay in an abusive relationship because (more than ever) it seems like there is no where else to go. I wish I'd had my notebook near me, I could have retained more. Later, over sweet potato fries with Tasmanian pepperberry sauce (yum), S mentioned how my choice to not be vegan against my express will was a form of violence to myself caused in part by the economic crisis, which really hit home. Overall, I enjoyed the event a lot, though I could have done more with a couple hours more (at least) of dialogue and presentation. (Also, one of the presenters was pretty hot-- which was amplified by her clear passion for the subject and intelligence) The only thing that I didn't like was how it reminded me of how removed I am from theoretical analysis these days. It reminded me of the urgency of regaining/retaining my vocabulary and literary ability. [speaking of which: a word I had forgotten the meaning of, but love: maudlin (self-pityingly or tearfully sentimental--COED)] I can't pretend that it won't help me in life, and I need it for my sanity. Now all I need is methods that can be implicated in between science classes and volunteering and studying for MCATs,etc., etc. (Oh, I do love to complain. Life is not bad. In fact, it's pretty good right now-- but that may be mostly because I have lots of reflection time with Spring Break.)
On the topic of reflection, I've been kind of dodging/being dodged by J in terms of communication. Which, considering the email exchange on Monday, I'm not taking personally. As for my side of it, this is quite a common technique for me-- this way it's easier for me to pretend that nothing happened (having a crap memory helps.) Which isn't to say that I haven't been thinking about it. I was at my pseudo-family's house again earlier today, taking care of their dog, and though I have so many memories of that house (Christmases, random days, childhood... those don't just fade) they've been tainted by the faint scent of a recollection, of moans on the couch, of waking up together early in the extra bedroom... But I'm not going there. It doesn't do me any good to dwell on the past, as I should well know by now. I'm trying to live in the moment (well, insofar as that is possible in a culture that constantly demands forethought and planning, and as a pre-med student, to boot.)
Something I wrote yesterday on the subject: "Something about the evening makes me full of nostalgia and regrets-- which may be why it's usually my over-eating time as well. But I am focusing on the here and now: I am waking up, my body is waking up, my mouth feels thirst, my eyes are still crusted (allergies, ahoy!). I'm laying on the couch with a band of sunlight striping across my body, with thoughts of the past flashing in my mind. I'm not fighting them, just observing them, as Osho says to do. Lots of J looking down or away, nothing where we're interacting (probably significant.) My stomach is twisting slightly, I can feel the fan's air waves play with my skin's hair. I am thinking I am going for a run. And not in the graveyard, either."
(apologies for the stream-of-consciousness faults.)
Anyways, I think that sums it up nicely-- life goes on, with flitting images of memories. I read somewhere once that every time you recall a memory your brain alters it in some way, so it's never true to the actual experience anymore. So it's all just a fantasy now. Somehow, to my storyteller self, instead of that being a depressing thought, I find that quite comforting.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
When you're dancing through your wardrobe to the anorexic gogo
(That one's Green Day)
I happened upon some blogs discussing (or dissing, rather) various famous people's outfits (On H's computer, irreversibly nosy and wondered what gofugyourself was-- it should be noted that I did resist being nosy when it came to looking at their camera's past pictures. I got to one topless photo [not of H] and promptly turned it off. Though I admit that had it been of H I might not have put the camera down quite as quickly. Yes, I am a perv.) I am appalled, absolutely taken aback, that anyone can see those emaciated dears as attractive. They look stringy and uncomfortable and overall, miserable. Lord knows I have my moments when I wish I could get rid of lots of the fat on my body, but I have never wanted to not have anything. Not have hips? Not have a butt? No, thank you. I'd much rather have some jiggly than look like a skeleton before my time. F that.
This, in conjunction with me just generally feeling healthy (mentally and physically), is contributing to me feeling a helluvalot more positive about my body. Thanks, crazily-emaciated famous people! I wish I could share some of this with you.
I happened upon some blogs discussing (or dissing, rather) various famous people's outfits (On H's computer, irreversibly nosy and wondered what gofugyourself was-- it should be noted that I did resist being nosy when it came to looking at their camera's past pictures. I got to one topless photo [not of H] and promptly turned it off. Though I admit that had it been of H I might not have put the camera down quite as quickly. Yes, I am a perv.) I am appalled, absolutely taken aback, that anyone can see those emaciated dears as attractive. They look stringy and uncomfortable and overall, miserable. Lord knows I have my moments when I wish I could get rid of lots of the fat on my body, but I have never wanted to not have anything. Not have hips? Not have a butt? No, thank you. I'd much rather have some jiggly than look like a skeleton before my time. F that.
This, in conjunction with me just generally feeling healthy (mentally and physically), is contributing to me feeling a helluvalot more positive about my body. Thanks, crazily-emaciated famous people! I wish I could share some of this with you.
I don't know if you can dance
(Lisa Hannigan, "I don't know" She used to go out with and sing with Damien Rice. It's cutesy stuff.)
The last two days have been very good. The days before that (from Saturday) were pretty good, too, except for the nightly emergence of my funk. It feels so amazing to be able to live by myself, to choose when and what I eat, to set my own schedule. I guess I got scared of that considering last year, but that really wasn't conscious solitude, it was induced by T going off and disappearing up N's bum. I love them both, but that hurt me a lot. It made me feel like I was not worth spending time with, and I expressed this to T, and she just wrote it off as something that she does when she's in a relationship, saying that people can't change. I really hate when people say that, because I believe that they can, if there's a need and/or a strong enough desire. There are plenty of examples of people changing for the worse, why not for the better? Anyway, I'm going off on a tangent. The kind of solitude that I've been experiencing in the last few days is really refreshing, like what JBa (haha another J) was attempting to cultivate last year. The kind of solitude that doesn't necessarily mean isolation, just plenty of alone-time and being social when I feel like it and not when it's mandatory. The food thing probably has a large impact on all this serenity, and vice versa. I've been eating mostly when I'm hungry, and stopping when I've had enough, and it feels good. I also am eating strange-ass things that I would never dream of serving to my parents without first testing it out, and being vegan. It feels so healthy, but in the good, satisfying sense, not in the "rabbit food"/granola sense. For example, last night for dinner I had an edamame, arame, sundried tomato, and dried mushroom salad, and roasted butternut squash with rosemary and nutritional yeast. Omnomnomnom.
I went for a run yesterday in the graveyard where J and I walked and talked a long time ago... (I just checked, it'll be 2 months ago tomorrow) I always think that I'm going to hash things out when I'm running out, but usually my deep-thinking thoughts are fleeting, like little wisps of dreams that float up between the rhythm afforded by my pounding feet. I end up being more than thinking when I'm running, which is why I like it-- it's my meditation. I never was good at sitting still, anyway. At any rate, there were certainly some fond flashbacks interspersed between the paces. Fond, and sad, both of which I expected. And there was also something else, maybe a sadness that my memory is so fickle and that though it's only been a little over a week since he left I feel as if it were all a dream, as if it never really happened except in my head. (That's why I journal as much as I can-- otherwise I'd have very little recollection of anything that goes on.)
Also contributing to my improved mood is the fact that I shared my J-involved reasons for funk-ness with S, and she was wonderful about it and suggested I tell him, which I did, which of course made things better. I should know by now that communication usually clears things like this up, but I guess I usually wait until it escalates and I've done a lot more to hurt myself at that point. At any rate, it's out there now.
Yay, more planning to see people in May. It's coming up sooner than I think, which is both good and crazy scary, since that means I need to a)crack down on studying and b)sort out applications(and even institutions. Oh bugger.) *deep breath* I will not freak out.
The last two days have been very good. The days before that (from Saturday) were pretty good, too, except for the nightly emergence of my funk. It feels so amazing to be able to live by myself, to choose when and what I eat, to set my own schedule. I guess I got scared of that considering last year, but that really wasn't conscious solitude, it was induced by T going off and disappearing up N's bum. I love them both, but that hurt me a lot. It made me feel like I was not worth spending time with, and I expressed this to T, and she just wrote it off as something that she does when she's in a relationship, saying that people can't change. I really hate when people say that, because I believe that they can, if there's a need and/or a strong enough desire. There are plenty of examples of people changing for the worse, why not for the better? Anyway, I'm going off on a tangent. The kind of solitude that I've been experiencing in the last few days is really refreshing, like what JBa (haha another J) was attempting to cultivate last year. The kind of solitude that doesn't necessarily mean isolation, just plenty of alone-time and being social when I feel like it and not when it's mandatory. The food thing probably has a large impact on all this serenity, and vice versa. I've been eating mostly when I'm hungry, and stopping when I've had enough, and it feels good. I also am eating strange-ass things that I would never dream of serving to my parents without first testing it out, and being vegan. It feels so healthy, but in the good, satisfying sense, not in the "rabbit food"/granola sense. For example, last night for dinner I had an edamame, arame, sundried tomato, and dried mushroom salad, and roasted butternut squash with rosemary and nutritional yeast. Omnomnomnom.
I went for a run yesterday in the graveyard where J and I walked and talked a long time ago... (I just checked, it'll be 2 months ago tomorrow) I always think that I'm going to hash things out when I'm running out, but usually my deep-thinking thoughts are fleeting, like little wisps of dreams that float up between the rhythm afforded by my pounding feet. I end up being more than thinking when I'm running, which is why I like it-- it's my meditation. I never was good at sitting still, anyway. At any rate, there were certainly some fond flashbacks interspersed between the paces. Fond, and sad, both of which I expected. And there was also something else, maybe a sadness that my memory is so fickle and that though it's only been a little over a week since he left I feel as if it were all a dream, as if it never really happened except in my head. (That's why I journal as much as I can-- otherwise I'd have very little recollection of anything that goes on.)
Also contributing to my improved mood is the fact that I shared my J-involved reasons for funk-ness with S, and she was wonderful about it and suggested I tell him, which I did, which of course made things better. I should know by now that communication usually clears things like this up, but I guess I usually wait until it escalates and I've done a lot more to hurt myself at that point. At any rate, it's out there now.
Yay, more planning to see people in May. It's coming up sooner than I think, which is both good and crazy scary, since that means I need to a)crack down on studying and b)sort out applications(and even institutions. Oh bugger.) *deep breath* I will not freak out.
Monday, March 9, 2009
up on the rooftops
(listening to punk rock...that was all we had--I'm ashamed, but it's Mest.)
Last night, I got in a funk, and went driving with the windows down and music blaring. Then I got a text from MK, who I haven't heard from in ages and was kind of my go-to vent-at buddy for much of my winter break. He asked me how my weekend was, so I told him bluntly: it was great and really relaxing except for that exact moment. So I drove around a lot more, texting him back and forth, and then-- at 11:30pm-- decide that I'm going to go for a walk and he'd be the best candidate for being up for going with me, despite the need to get up at 6 the next morning. So we meet, and walk, and I vent... my shoes hurt my feet, so I take them off, and we walk until 1am. Nothing is resolved (not that I expected anything to be, considering the layers going on, plus him not being involved in the slightest-- usually hashing things out does help me figure out what's wrong, at least, though.)
Then today, I've had a really relaxing and pretty great day, and yet I wind up in a crappy mood again.
I can't seem to approach this in a prose form, so I'm just going to go the easy way out and make a list:
*still worrying about calories and stuff in a way that I would not like to, i.e. in terms of losing weight rather than being healthy and happy
*feeling guilty for wanting to escape my parent's house, while aware that this sentiment is unfounded
*worrying about my knees giving out on me (and all the implications on my running/well being thereof.---I am aware that I seemingly equated my well being with running, but that's not entirely true. Running helps, though.)
*feeling paranoid about my personal interactions (or lack thereof) with most of the people I consider important in my life at this particular moment. I'm thinking this may be a function of me feeling off-balance, since I can usually feel more confident about my interactions when I have a stronger sense of who I am and how I want to perceive myself.
None of these things are new. None of them are things that I have not dealt with before, in some capacity. But given that I am more aware of my previous faulty coping mechanisms, I feel somewhat as if I am grasping at wisps of clouds at the top of a mountain.
*********************
Speaking of mountains, I went to Dahlonega today and hiked. I loved it, I felt wonderful (except a few knee twinges), and it was refreshing. Exactly what I needed before trying to crack on with my work this week. As it gets warmer my idea of camping out on the weekends with my books becomes more and more appealing. I don't know where my tent is, though, which might be a slight deterrent to that plan-- not to mention that it's going to get cold again next week. Bloody Georgia can't make up its mind about what season it's going to be
Last night, I got in a funk, and went driving with the windows down and music blaring. Then I got a text from MK, who I haven't heard from in ages and was kind of my go-to vent-at buddy for much of my winter break. He asked me how my weekend was, so I told him bluntly: it was great and really relaxing except for that exact moment. So I drove around a lot more, texting him back and forth, and then-- at 11:30pm-- decide that I'm going to go for a walk and he'd be the best candidate for being up for going with me, despite the need to get up at 6 the next morning. So we meet, and walk, and I vent... my shoes hurt my feet, so I take them off, and we walk until 1am. Nothing is resolved (not that I expected anything to be, considering the layers going on, plus him not being involved in the slightest-- usually hashing things out does help me figure out what's wrong, at least, though.)
Then today, I've had a really relaxing and pretty great day, and yet I wind up in a crappy mood again.
I can't seem to approach this in a prose form, so I'm just going to go the easy way out and make a list:
*still worrying about calories and stuff in a way that I would not like to, i.e. in terms of losing weight rather than being healthy and happy
*feeling guilty for wanting to escape my parent's house, while aware that this sentiment is unfounded
*worrying about my knees giving out on me (and all the implications on my running/well being thereof.---I am aware that I seemingly equated my well being with running, but that's not entirely true. Running helps, though.)
*feeling paranoid about my personal interactions (or lack thereof) with most of the people I consider important in my life at this particular moment. I'm thinking this may be a function of me feeling off-balance, since I can usually feel more confident about my interactions when I have a stronger sense of who I am and how I want to perceive myself.
None of these things are new. None of them are things that I have not dealt with before, in some capacity. But given that I am more aware of my previous faulty coping mechanisms, I feel somewhat as if I am grasping at wisps of clouds at the top of a mountain.
*********************
Speaking of mountains, I went to Dahlonega today and hiked. I loved it, I felt wonderful (except a few knee twinges), and it was refreshing. Exactly what I needed before trying to crack on with my work this week. As it gets warmer my idea of camping out on the weekends with my books becomes more and more appealing. I don't know where my tent is, though, which might be a slight deterrent to that plan-- not to mention that it's going to get cold again next week. Bloody Georgia can't make up its mind about what season it's going to be
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Falling down to get back up
I started counting calories again today. Initially, I was going to do it to lose weight again, and I'll admit that's still part of it, but not in the same old keep-myself-under-1200-and-kill-myself-running bullcrap.
I don't want to feed into my eating disorder, but I also need to get some balance, and if counting calories helps, I'll do it. I'm approaching it as taking care of myself, though. More of the tone of writing stuff down so that I am holding myself accountable and am aware of what I am eating, so that I am present in that moment and enjoying what it is I'm putting in my mouth. So far today has been very successful, and I'm hopeful for the rest of the week. The plan is to continue like this until I feel stable, and then by then I will have the body trust to not need to count or write anything.
(I drew the picture above today as part of my self-care)
Yesterday I realized another strong fear of mine (as well as rejection): being forgotten. I guess that's why I'm always so honored when friends of mine from Copenhagen or Italy or England are so enthusiastic about the idea of visiting with me, even if we haven't communicated in yonks. And why I used to write--and ideally would still like to be writing (same old theme as all the classic poets, I know.) It's like Shelley (Percy Bysshe)'s Ozymandias, forgotten though he was apparently so powerful:
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
I don't have an empire or statues or even anything dedicated to me (as far as I know), and I don't need to be publicly remembered. I like attention, but that's far beyond what I want. What I would like is to have a lasting impression on all the people that I have a connection with. I don't need to inspire or change, but just leave a little indentation, a little mental or emotional 'Emma was here'. It's a selfish impulse, but I hardly think it's uncommon. It's like with T in Morton-- I took up the challenge because I wanted to see my effect (that's twisted.)-- and even with A, though in a far broader sense. Or maybe I just want feedback, want to know how I'm read so I can adjust it if it's in disparity with how I want to be? I know sometimes my meaning is interpreted differently than I intend, but is that because the other people are seeing what they want to, or because there's something off with my transmitter? (I just got an image of Batty from Fern Gully, with his little radio wires popping out of his head. I do feel like that sometimes-- though usually in the context of spouting random things because my conversational skills could use some help :P )
"Yo, the name is Batty / The logic is erratic / Potato in a jacket / Toys in the attic / I rock and I ramble / My brain is scrambled / Rap like an animal, but I'm a mammal."
(yep, Batty from Fern Gully, doing his rap.)
I just realized that I quote Batty almost every time I put on my glasses or contacts around somebody: "I can see! It's a miracle!" (I am aware that this may come from something else originally, but knowing how often I watched Fern Gully when I was ickle, I'm fairly certain I picked it up from here.) xD
I don't want to feed into my eating disorder, but I also need to get some balance, and if counting calories helps, I'll do it. I'm approaching it as taking care of myself, though. More of the tone of writing stuff down so that I am holding myself accountable and am aware of what I am eating, so that I am present in that moment and enjoying what it is I'm putting in my mouth. So far today has been very successful, and I'm hopeful for the rest of the week. The plan is to continue like this until I feel stable, and then by then I will have the body trust to not need to count or write anything.(I drew the picture above today as part of my self-care)
Yesterday I realized another strong fear of mine (as well as rejection): being forgotten. I guess that's why I'm always so honored when friends of mine from Copenhagen or Italy or England are so enthusiastic about the idea of visiting with me, even if we haven't communicated in yonks. And why I used to write--and ideally would still like to be writing (same old theme as all the classic poets, I know.) It's like Shelley (Percy Bysshe)'s Ozymandias, forgotten though he was apparently so powerful:
Ozymandias
I met a traveler from an antique landWho said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
I don't have an empire or statues or even anything dedicated to me (as far as I know), and I don't need to be publicly remembered. I like attention, but that's far beyond what I want. What I would like is to have a lasting impression on all the people that I have a connection with. I don't need to inspire or change, but just leave a little indentation, a little mental or emotional 'Emma was here'. It's a selfish impulse, but I hardly think it's uncommon. It's like with T in Morton-- I took up the challenge because I wanted to see my effect (that's twisted.)-- and even with A, though in a far broader sense. Or maybe I just want feedback, want to know how I'm read so I can adjust it if it's in disparity with how I want to be? I know sometimes my meaning is interpreted differently than I intend, but is that because the other people are seeing what they want to, or because there's something off with my transmitter? (I just got an image of Batty from Fern Gully, with his little radio wires popping out of his head. I do feel like that sometimes-- though usually in the context of spouting random things because my conversational skills could use some help :P )
"Yo, the name is Batty / The logic is erratic / Potato in a jacket / Toys in the attic / I rock and I ramble / My brain is scrambled / Rap like an animal, but I'm a mammal."
(yep, Batty from Fern Gully, doing his rap.)
I just realized that I quote Batty almost every time I put on my glasses or contacts around somebody: "I can see! It's a miracle!" (I am aware that this may come from something else originally, but knowing how often I watched Fern Gully when I was ickle, I'm fairly certain I picked it up from here.) xD
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