STL

Finally all settled into the new house and everything. It's fantastic. I love it.

But we have "house centipedes". They're really freaky-looking, and always scare me shitless when I see them, but apparently they're harmless and eat spiders, ants, cockroaches, etc. So I guess I should stop killing them. Still. Ugh.

Umm, school's great. Every day I learn something new that makes me want to overthrow the government or something. Damn liberal colleges. Corrupting the youth of America. I'd rather idolize Howard Zinn than Thomas Jefferson.

Stuck in the middle

So, I have a love/hate relationship with gender and sexuality theory.

I love studying it, because it's almost always fascinating and enlightening. But it's also incredibly frustrating. Because you can study it, and realize the inadequacies that are inherent in the system, but have absolutely no power to change any of it.

So really, you're just as confused as before, if not more so.

Right now I'm taking a really great class called "Bisexualities" with Andrea Miller. It's a social science course, and with just the first assigned reading, I was already loving it.

I feel like drawing a giant lightbulb on the cover of our book.

Partly because it's really interesting stuff, but mostly because it's helped me make more sense of my own sexuality.

I have, for a long time, struggled with labeling myself. I really really really hate the term bisexual. I feel it reinforces the gender and sexuality binary that I wholly reject. I feel it also implies an equal attraction to only two distinct genders. Which is patently false in the case of most bisexuals.

But in any case, my sexuality is nuanced, and for a long time I have been loathe to define it. Partly because I didn't know what to call myself, but mostly because it's waaaay more comfortable to be straight.

If I were to come out as "bi", people would automatically assume that:
1) I'm just a slut.
2) I'm really just gay.
3) I need two partners to be satisfied.
4) I'm socially deviant.

It's maddening.

But anyhow, to clarify my sexuality -

...I can't. That's what I've come to realize. I truly believe that gender, sexuality, belief systems, and values can and often do change (perhaps radically) throughout a person's life. I know for a fact that I am not the same person I was 2 years ago. I know when I was in Thailand I was going through a very difficult "identity crisis" - mostly in regard to my sexuality.

I don't even know if I believe in identity as a rigid concept. What is identity, anyway? The only time I apply identity to is the present. Right now, I'm way more into men than women. Generally speaking, that's the case. But really, that's not an accurate description at all. I am into certain human characteristics (sexually/romantically/whatever you want to call it). These certain characteristics are independent of genitalia or public presentation of gender. So this means that at any given time, I could be sexually attracted to any given person, of any gender, given they have certain characteristics that I find attractive. Does that make sense?


In case it wasn't already obvious, I definitely believe that we as human beings are far more influenced by nurture than nature. Certainly nature has its place, but nurture really guides behavior and feelings.

I don't think anyone is born gay. I don't think anyone is born bisexual. I don't think anyone is born straight.

But most importantly, I don't think it matters WHY "deviations" occur. As if "choosing" ones sexuality is a bad thing. It isn't. I choose to be straight most of the time. For many personal reasons. I'm happy with that. That doesn't mean that I can't also choose to be a part-time lesbian. Such changes occur in life. Just because someone is ridiculously "gay" at age 50 doesn't mean that the serious relationship with a woman at age 20 wasn't real. It just means that attractions have changed, as do so many other things with age.

We're way too fixated on labels. Even labels like "pansexual" are problematic, but I suppose they're a step in the right direction. I guess I'm just me. Whatever that is. I'm ok with not having a fixed identity. Such things don't exist.

What's the score here? What comes next?

Question of my goddamn life.

I hate hate hate disappointment, it makes me realize how young I am. The maturity level at which I handle such things has indeed increased ten-fold in the last few years, but I'm still very 20. And that really bothers me. Especially because at times I've felt 30 since age 12.

20 isn't respectable.

It has no authority.

You're still allowed to do stupid shit that you probably won't be held responsible for later in life. Then why do I beat myself up over mistakes made and emotions felt? I guess I'm just 20. These things are supposed to happen.

I really can't feel too sorry for myself. Everyone goes through this shit.

That's something that really helped me deal with my depression. Once I realized that angst, strife, and sadness are UNIVERSAL human experiences, regardless of culture, it made the sadness seem less isolated. The wealthy, the destitute, the Colombians, the British, the young, the old. No matter how shitty I feel, there are millions of other people feeling the exact same. And that's comforting. And unifying.

I never feel more connected with humanity than when I'm down about something.

I also realize how comparatively affluent and blessed I am.

But then, at the end of the day, it doesn't make it hurt any less. But I guess there's a beauty in the pain.

I'm honestly not sure how hurt I am right now, though. I wouldn't call it hurt. Or even sad, really. Just a bit disappointed. And self-conscious.

But it's nothing that a little (well, a lot) yoga, meditation, journaling, and Alanis Morissette won't cure.

Woooow

Um, I should really learn to think (hard) before I speak/text.


Self-sabotage?

Just an irreparable character flaw?

Hormones?

Insanity?

All of the above?

R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

So sorry that I have some fucking principles. UGH. I am not stupid! I, in fact, have a right to my opinions, and I would hope that people who claim to love and care about me would respect them. Is that so much to ask?!




So I'm having a craptastic week. Seems fitting to cap off a generally craptastic summer. To be truthful, however, summer has gone by very quickly, which I am quite happy for. Hopefully I'll be able to do a few more things before I go back to school, but we'll see.

I probably won't go back until the 15th or 16th at the earliest, because school starts on the 20th, and I'd like to get as much out of my time in Texas as possible. This is my last real summer, methinks. Scary thought.

So, I forgot that there were going to be roofers here today, and stayed up waaaay too late (watching "Boy A" - so freaking amazing, SEE IT NOW!) only to be rudely awoken at 7:15 by loud banging above my head that has yet to cease. Yay.

Oh, I'm going to Berlin for fall break. Officially. I waffled a lot about it, but in the end, I know I won't get another chance like this. 10 days in one city. I can practice my German, hang out with cool people, see Europe for the first time, and learn shit (apparently). I'm pretty excited. Travel stresses me out, though. I love it, but sometimes it's just sensory overload. I won't get a break at all, though, and I won't get to come home, so that's a major downside. But I have to do what I think is most beneficial in the long run. And hell, there's no way it's going to be anything but fantastic, so I might as well just go.

I figure I'll be home for a month at Christmas anyway.


I have been a bit of a jackass this summer. If I don't know what to do with a situation, I tend to disengage. It's not really intentional, I just get scared. Unfortunately I have developed a need for black and white decisions in order to avoid anxiety. Life is not like that, though, and I need to learn to deal with ambiguity. Still. Angst.

My life as shaped by badass female singers

More specifically, Jewel and Alanis Morissette.

Those two were my FAVORITE artists growing up. I'm talking, like, Pieces of You was the first CD I ever bought. Jagged Little Pill was the next big album that made a huge impact on me. Honestly, even though I adored everything about both albums when I was 11, they actually mean something to me now. Because I can personally relate to all of it.

Alanis was the perfect remedy for when I was feeling mad at the world. "You Oughtta Know" is one of those songs that really makes you stop and think, Jesus Christ, what did he DO?! "And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back, I hope you feel it." Maaaan.

"Not the Doctor" is my favorite song on that album. It's just so perfect. "I don't wanna be the filler if the void is solely yours. I don't wanna be your glass of single-malt whiskey hidden in t he bottom drawer. I don't wanna be the bandage if the wound is not mine. Lend me some fresh air. I don't wanna be adored for what I merely represent to you. I don't wanna be your babysitter, you're a very big boy now. I don't wanna be your mother, I didn't carry you in my womb for 9 months. Show me the back door."

And especially - "I don't wanna be your other half, I believe that 1 and 1 makes 2."

With Jewel, it was mostly about how simple but profound her songs were. And she actually addressed important issues. I just want to cut and paste the lyrics to the song "Pieces of You" right here, as an example:

She's an ugly girl, does it make you want to kill her?
She's an ugly girl, do you want to kick in her face?
She's an ugly girl, she doesn't pose a threat.
She's an ugly girl, does she make you feel safe?
Ugly girl, ugly girl, do you hate her
'Cause she's pieces of you?
She's a pretty girl, does she make you think nasty thoughts?
She's a pretty girl, do you want to tie her down?
She's a pretty girl, do you call her a bitch?
She's a pretty girl, did she sleep with your whole town?
Pretty girl, pretty girl, do you hate her
'Cause she's pieces of you?
You say he's a faggot, does it make you want to hurt him?
You say he's a faggot, do you want to bash in his brain?
You say he's a faggot, does he make you sick to our stomach?
You say he's a faggot, are you afraid you're just the same?
Faggot, Faggot, do you hate him
'Cause he's pieces of you?
You say he's a Jew, does it mean that he's tight?
You say he's a Jew, do you want to hurt his kids tonight?
You say he's a Jew, he'll never wear that funny hat again.
You say he's a Jew, as though being born were a sin.
Oh Jew, oh Jew, do you hate him
'Cause he's pieces of you?


I guess you could say that those 2 albums were the stepping stone to my eventual liberalism and feminism. Even though one could argue that Jewel has kind of sold out (however, I will defend her to the death anyway), and that she hasn't put out a good album since Spirit...

...she's still a badass. That was one of my first concerts that I really cared about. She was amazing! She yodels! Fuck yeah!

I was also REALLY into Reba McIntire. TRUFAX. I'm not ashamed, but I'm not proud.

"Bridezilla"

What a concerning development of our society that such a term even exists.

I know it's supposed to be comical or something, but I'm not laughing.

(Now, let me preface this by saying that while I don't necessarily believe in the concept of marriage, I know that it's a deeply rooted social norm and a common occurrence in many cultures.)

Forgive me if I've missed something, but I thought marriage was about making two people's love for one another officially permanent and recognized by their friends, family, and the state. I thought it was about undying love and devotion. Apparently not.

Apparently it's about $10,000 dresses, custom-made invitations, DJs, and the "perfect" ceremony. Among other things.

Thanks to reality TV and the internet, I have been exposed to many "bridezillas", as well as "normal" brides. Honestly, even though the former is more extreme, the latter is just as bad in many respects. Here are some questions I've been pondering:

1) Why must weddings be so stressful and time-consuming?!
2) Why must so much money be spent on something so ridiculous?!
3) Why do so many women demand expensive, real-diamond, engagement rings?!
4) Why do so many women obsess about losing weight so they can be "beautiful" on their wedding day?!
5) Why is it important if the bridesmaids have different hair styles?!
6) Why are blatantly offensive and patriarchal customs still used to this day?!

I have more questions, obviously, but I'll limit myself.

1) I don't understand people planning their wedding years in advance, obsessing over every little detail, and not being satisfied unless everything is PERFECT. Life isn't fair, shit happens, etc. If your bridesmaids's shoes aren't perfectly matched to their dress, the world will not stop turning, and you will still get married (I thought this was the objective).
2) Unless Rumpelstiltskin has personally spun my dress out of gold, I am NOT paying $10,000 for it. Jesus. I'd just as soon make my own dress, and not in white, mind you.
3) If a man ever gave me real diamonds, I would break up with him. Because that would show that he didn't know me at all. Ethics aside, expensive gifts in exchange for marriage vows just smacks of "dowry".
4) There's a reality show about this. The promotions I've seen for it are appalling. Because it's just that important that you lose 10 pounds for one day. It's not like your fiancee won't love you, 10 pounds less or not. Clearly, if he's agreed to spend the rest of his life with you and you alone, he better be ok with whatever happens to your body in the future. Plus, he thinks you're hot as is, sans-makeup and control-top pantyhose, otherwise he wouldn't be marrying you. Also, ordering an exorbitantly expensive dress for "the most important day of your life" 2 sizes too small as "motivation" is just asking for trouble.
5) You'll live if your Maid of Honor whacks all of her hair off the day before the wedding.
6) White dresses, while traditional and quite beautiful (at times), symbolize everything I despise about the implications of virginal brides. I don't qualify, nor do most women who get married today, and yet they still wear white. While the custom of wearing white initially came from people copying Queen Victoria's white wedding dress, it has now come to mean that your hymen is still intact. Which is nobody's business and shouldn't be a factor in why your prospective husband wants you, but I digress. Veils as well are irritating. Talk about sexual innuendo. And while I love my dad, and he's kickass, I will not have him "give me away". My decisions, and my life are my own. I would hope that he would like who I was marrying, but who I decide to spend the rest of my life with is not his choice to make.

Regardless of intentions, these traditions are arcane and oppressive.

I just don't understand it.

Personally, I have no idea if I'll ever get married, and honestly, I don't really care. If I love someone enough to be with them FOREVER, I don't really need a piece of paper to do just that. It's legally advantageous, certainly, but I'd hate for that to be a motivator. My immediate family is fairly untraditional, but my extended family certainly is not. If I were to live with a partner forever without marrying him, I'd be living in sin. Not that I care, but it's not something I'd want to discuss over Thanksgiving.

I suppose I wouldn't mind getting married. I'm just not hell-bent on making it happen. I wouldn't want one of these flashy, expensive affairs with everyone and their mother in attendance. I wouldn't want to send invitations for fear of wasting paper. I wouldn't want to make it some circus where I'm the center of attention. That's what it is, ultimately. Bridezillas are simply narcissists who take advantage of what is supposed to be a fun but reverent event (in my opinion, anyway) to draw all of the attention to herself for a day. How irritating.

My parents got married in a public park. They paid the preacher and a guitar player. My mom bought a new (blue) dress, and my dad wore short sleeves and a bowtie. My mom's engagement ring was a family heirloom that originally was my great-grandmother's engagement ring. There were probably 20 people in attendance (if that). Now, eventually they got divorced, but that really isn't the point.

I just don't understand why it's such a folderol, I guess. Just get married.

Curse my bleeding heart!

I don't want to go tooting my own horn or anything, but I am exceptionally compassionate. Most of the time, this is a very good thing. I tend to be considerate of others, and I also try to help others on a regular basis.

Unfortunately, it also causes me to give people second, third, fourth, and fifth chances who didn't deserve one to begin with.

It also makes my heart break every time I see an animal in a bad situation. Literally, I got choked up today when I saw a loose dog in my neighborhood. It's just so sad. I always wonder how scared and alone and helpless they must feel. It is our job as human beings to look after each other, and the animals we share our earth with.

If you take on a pet, there is almost no excuse for abandoning it. When you bring a pet into your life, you are giving it your commitment to take care of it until one of you dies. It's kind of like marriage in a way. No matter what happens in my life, I will make sure that my pets are looked after properly.

Right now, I'm snuggled up with a new kitty my mom brought home from her camping trip in Arkansas. She is the most precious, sweet, and loving cat I have ever met. I want to squeeze her. Unfortunately, she also tested positive for trace amounts of Feline Leukemia. Which is similar to HIV. Most cats who are exposed to it fight off the infection and become immune, but a significant amount remain infected and become carriers. This means they cannot be around uninfected cats, and it also means that they will probably lead a comparatively short life. 85% of cats who test positive and remain that way die within 3 years.

So this kitty has got me in a conundrum. I tried to ignore her while she's been in the house so I don't grow attached, but I couldn't help myself. Hopefully, when we test her again in a few weeks, she will have fought it off, but if not...

...I don't know. I'm thinking that I'd try to take her to STL with me. I know I'd be setting myself up for heart break, but I'd want to make her short life as enjoyable as possible. Besides, she's not sick yet, so I don't see the point in putting her down if she isn't suffering.

Damn it. DAMN IT! I hate this.

I guess I just can't handle animals suffering (or the asshole humans who treat them badly). Domestic cats and dogs have no one else to look after them. They are completely at our mercy. Someone who would abuse something so vulnerable and trusting is scum. This goes for child abuse as well. GAH.

"I believe in symmetry"

That's the title of one of my favorite Bright Eyes songs. It deals with the undeniable and inescapable symmetry of life. Life and death, more specifically.

The arc of time, the stench of sex
The innocence you can't protect
Each quarter note, each marble step
Walk up and down that lonely treble clef
Each wanting the next one
Each wanting the next one to arrive
Each wanting the next one
Each wanting the next one to arrive

An argument for consciousness
The instinct of the blind insect
Who never thinks not to accept its fate
That's faith, there's happiness in death
You give to the next one
You give to the next on down the line
You give to the next one
You give to the next on down the line


It's fantastic, really. I don't necessarily believe in fate, but I hold to the notion of there being some sort of pattern in this existence. I don't believe that life begins at conception and ends with your last breath. It's a cycle. Life began billions of years ago, and it continues in an endless cycle, and it probably will on into eternity.

This somewhat strange, and undeniably Judeo-Christian view of the human experience is such an amazing force in what shapes "western" thought and society.

That was one of the most comforting and beautiful things about Thailand. They weren't concerned with saving their souls. They weren't concerned with going to heaven or hell. They were trying to do the best they could with their current lives so that they could be reincarnated at an even higher level the next time. Samsara.

...we need Samsara here. Seriously.

More useless football ramblings

So, when last I wrote about the beautiful game, I was optimistically looking forward to the final between Spain and Germany. It was a frustrating game to watch, and ultimately, Spain simply outplayed Germany to a 1-0 win.

Now, as much as I love my team, they deserved their loss. They didn't play badly, but they didn't bring the energy and enthusiasm that they brought to the Quarter finals. I was disappointed. But I like Spain also, and they deserved it.

This is wholly unlike my complete and utter disdain for Italy I felt during the World Cup of '06. They played dirty the entire tournament, and if it wasn't for a completely bullshit penalty awarded by an apparently blind referee during the Quarter finals against Australia, they wouldn't have advanced at all. But such is life. Anyhow.

But despite all that, I ultimately believe that barring some awful officiating, no matter how they play overall, the best team always wins. They win not because they dominate possession or because they have star players or fancy tricks. They win not because they are particularly entertaining to watch. They win because they persevere, they exploit every opportunity to score, and they turn chances into goals. It's as simple as that. I don't care if a team has years and years of experience together, if they have a famous coach, or if they have a handful of multi-millionaires with big names playing on the pitch.

One excellent example of this is Turkey. NO ONE expected they would make it as far as they did. You can call it luck, and certainly that's plausible. But at the end of the day, they simply converted chances to goals more often than their opponents. Maybe they played awfully for the first 70 minutes of the game (this was the case more than once) and miraculously made a comeback with amazing goals against wearied opponents. Doesn't matter when a goal comes, it still counts. It can be in the 4th minute of stoppage time. All that matters is that you have more points. If you have more points, you were the better team. End of story.

After all, what good is a team that plays well but doesn't score any goals? That doesn't make sense. So yes, Turkey was fantastic. Germany simply shut them down as often as they could and managed to score three times to their two. It's math.

Spain managed to keep Germany quiet for most of the game. They outran them, they beat the defense and the keeper. That's how the game is played. When the whistle blew, that one goal was all that mattered.


...anyway.

I'd also like to rant a bit about that titty-baby, Cristiano Ronaldo. The little shit makes over $100,000 a WEEK at his current club, Manchester United. The whole world wants to drink his bath water, and pretty much any girl (boy?) he wants wants to drink his...

...well, you get my point.

Currently, Real Madrid (one of the top clubs in Spain) wants to buy Ronaldo from ManU. One problem - Ronaldo is on contract for 2 more years. So, one would imagine they would just wait it out, and if they still want him, get him on a free transfer. Oh no. They want him now, and they want to convince ManU to sell him (at a hefty price of $100 million, I shit you not), but ManU wants to keep him. Understandably. He's damn good, even if he is obnoxious. Ronaldo himself favors a move to Spain, but ManU isn't budging. Rightly so, IMO. A contract is a contract for a reason. If you sign for 4 years, you stay 4 years. End of story.

The president of FIFA (the world football governing body - essentially the Ban Ki Moon of soccer), Sepp Blatter, gave an interview yesterday in which he decried ManU's behavior, and compared Ronaldo's situation to "modern slavery". I can't make this shit up.

Shit, if slavery means a Mercedes Benz, several mansions, and enough money that he could wipe his ass with it (probably after eating flakes of gold so even his shit would glitter), then sign me up. Jesus, it's as if people don't have any idea about history or don't think about what comes out of their mouths! Oh, wait. They don't.

All I know is that I could work twice as hard doing work that actually accomplishes something for a minute fraction of what even the least paid professional athletes make. Oh, and I would fulfill any contractual agreement I SIGNED because hey, that's how the real world should work, and because I'm not an arrogant fuck with an attitude problem who was named after Ronald Reagan (trufax).

JEBUS!

Women's Bodies: A Rant

So I've come to a conclusion about society.

A woman's body in its natural state is at best, devalued, and at worst, an abhorrence.

Certainly within certain circles, women are allowed to go au naturale without any kind of social sanction, but I'm referring to the beauty standards of mainstream American culture. There's no such thing as too skinny or too rich, right?

I guess I'm just exasperated. I'm angry and I'm confused. WHY is it a problem if I don't shave my legs?! I AM A WARM-BLOODED MAMMAL. Ergo: Hair. Everywhere. Almost everyone has it, whether they like it or not.

If I have hair on my head, I'm supposed to endlessly clean, condition, style, fortify, moisturize, blow-dry, straighten, curl, or otherwise manipulate it into what society deems as attractive to fit in. But the point I'm getting at is this: why is hair to be cherished on one's head, and to be detested on one's body?

Where is this ambiguous line drawn? Why is it just fine for a woman to have hair on her arms, but not in her armpits or on her legs (or vulva, for that matter)?

I've heard the cleanliness argument, but just because Schick and Gillette want to spread paranoia and lies about the natural state of women's bodies doesn't mean any of it is true. I don't shave my armpits, and while I wear deodorant on a regular basis, I don't smell. TRUFAX, people. Hair is not dirty. I will never understand such an argument. If anything it's your skin that's the dirty part, but I digress.

I go back and forth on shaving my legs, and most of the time I can't be bothered (because I find it stupid and a pointless waste of time, money and effort). When I do shave, it's because I just had the urge, and did some on a whim. Or it's because it's damn hot and I wanted to wear a skirt without being ridiculed. Some days it's not worth the harassment. I don't dislike shaved legs - the feeling or the aesthetic. I'm just not disgusted by hair. So I let it grow. I suppose I avoid most social sanctions for my hairiness because I am relatively fair-skinned, have light-colored hair on my legs, and am unable to grow anything more than what can best be described as sparse hair in my armpits. I am always sorely disappointed that I will most likely never be able to grow some impressive underarm bush. Disgusted? WHY?! You're the weird one, not me. I was born this way. That's life, and that's biology. Think I'm gross? Take it up with who/whatever made me. And you. And everyone else.

Furthermore, what is up with grown women removing their pubes?! I really don't get that. I get trimming, sometimes it's more comfortable, I totally understand. BUT. Literally waxing your asscrack is just...buh?! That skin is sensitive! Jesus. I don't want to look like a prepubescent child, thankyouverymuch. I think people who find that attractive should probably confront their inner pedophile or seriously reconsider what they think is "hot".

Hair aside, women's bodies are just not good enough as is. There's always some new trend to tell us that we're too fat, too thin, too ugly, too plain, or just worthless without a new kind of plastic surgery or beauty product. Dare to be the woman who goes without makeup, and you'll be the first one called on for a trip to "What Not to Wear". Clinton and Kelly will tell you how to be a beautiful (though artificial) drone like everyone else. No lie, that show is a guilty pleasure of mine, and I enjoy fashion (to a degree), but not an episode goes by where they don't tell someone that if they smack a bit of foundation and lipstick on, they'll automatically be more valued by society.

It's fucked up!

While I have bought into the beauty myth to certain degree (I wear makeup almost daily and make sure my hair is up to scratch before going out), I can't help but wonder how the world would be different if we would just stop feeling not good enough.

If I were to maintain a reasonable level of hygiene, but reject my beautification rituals, I would automatically take a step down in the world. If a man were to do the same, it wouldn't matter.

I can wake up in the morning, with my hair in disarray and no makeup on my squinty eyes, and still feel beautiful. But it seems like not many other people feel that way, and I'm human just like everyone else, so I tow the line. I plug in my hair dryer and get out the mascara and eyeliner. It's just life.

But it's startling how upset, disgusted, and even angry, some people get when women DON'T go along with the great American myth of female beauty.

I've lately discovered that I love my body. I also know that while I may not get called it, most people would consider me fat. The two things are not mutually exclusive. I have stretch marks and cellulite just like most other women, but I don't care. I have a fat ass and thunder thighs. This used to bother me, but I've gotten past it. There's no point in wishing for a new body. This is the only one I have. So I ought to give it the love and respect it deserves. After all, I would be nothing without it. I'm not going to apologize for said ass and thighs. Not even for the pudge around my midsection.

When I expressed apprehension about nudity at one point in my life, a friend told me to "fake it til you make it". So I acted like hot shit. Guess what? I believe it now. I'm hot shit. I have a fat ass. Oh, and I have hairy legs. Has your head exploded yet?

I think women are some of the most amazing beings on this earth. It's a shame we have to tell them they're not good enough just as they are for simply existing in their natural state.

Just one more!

So.

Germany won today.

YAY!

3-2, against Turkey, a very worthy adversary. I won't say a single negative thing about the Turks. They played wonderfully, surely indicative of the way they have been playing this entire tournament. I'm only sorry that I ended up having to root against them (I've explained before...my support of Germany is undying). Certainly the referee could have been better (I'm thinking of a blatant foul in the penalty area that should have resulted in a pk for Germany), but overall it was a good game. Thrilling to watch - very nerve-wracking. As much as I like an exciting game of football, I was a mess thinking my beloved Deutsche Nationalmannschaft would fall victim to the miraculous Turkish comeback kings. Not so.

I truly believe that Germany earned their win. It probably should have been easier against Turkey's 2nd string, but honestly. They were beasts on that pitch. Such fight I have never seen. Aaahhh. I love football.

Some fleeting analysis:
WHY would Joachim Löw start Rolfes and Hitzlsperger instead of Frings?! I'm sorry, I know that the formation worked against Portugal, but if Frings is fit, you put him on. Period. The man is a friggin' beefhouse (a made up word that I love, bitch). That, and he and Ballack hold the midfield together like nobody's business. Werd. Anyhow, Rolfes got whacked in the cranium (see pictures below) right before half time, so Frings went on in the beginning of the 2nd half, as it should have been from the beginning. Anyhow. Hopefully he'll learn from that experiment and will start Frings in the final.

Ballack was quieter than I would've liked to see. But Turkey plays chaos football, so maybe he was just confused. Schweinsteiger is turning out to be SUCH an asset to the team. I look forward to watching him in the coming years. Podolski, too. Klose could do better, methinks. As could Lehmann (and HOW). Lahm is fantastic. The "magical dwarf", indeed. When he gets his eye on goal, you better watch out.

Next stop, Vienna, for the final against either Russia or Spain. I'm so excited! I don't want to jinx it, but I think Germany's going to go all the way! They need to up their game, and be more concentrated than today, as it was a very narrow victory (Lahm's goal in the 90th minute...wow). I suppose, however, that it was only fitting that Turkey would go out with a last-minute goal as they did to foe after foe.

Anywho. Here are some of my favorite pictures from the match:

Captain Michael Ballack

The cranial collision. OUCH.

That's pretty gnarly.

FUCK! Look at all that blood! By the way, they put stitches and shots of anesthetic in his head on the sidelines and sent him back on for the last bit of the 1st half.

The wounded Turkish player. In case you can't tell what's going on here, they are STAPLING his gaping head wound shut on the sideline before sending him back on for the rest of the game. People who say soccer is for sissies have clearly never watched a single game. Goddamn.

Lahm's last-gasp winner! Amazing.

Look at 'em go.

Our dear coach, Jogi, yelling what I hope was "TOOOOOOORRRRRRRR! JAAAAAA!" or similar.

Cristiano Ronaldo

CAN SUCK IT!


What a match! German 3, Portugal 2.


(I have problems. But omg omg omg Deutschland! They didn't suck! I was so proud!)

My ardent love for football (the REAL kind)

If you guessed that I meant the football where you actually use your feet, you would be correct! Oh, how I adore it. My love for football is probably only rivaled by love for skirts with pockets and Freddie Mercury. Srsly.

I, like many American children, began my obsession very early in life, joining my first team when I was about 5 years old. I know everyone says this, but I was frickin' fantastic. I played defense, and I was ALL ABOUT IT. The high point of my footballing career, as it were, was when my team played our league rivals (the Ponies, I believe - we were the Tinkerbelles - I shit you not) at the half-time of a Dallas Sidekicks game in Reunion Arena in Dallas. I remember exactly how HUUUGE the arena felt when I was 8 years old. It was insane. We lost, but it was awesome.

I quit the team when I was about 11 or 12 because my coach was a huge asshole and my parents couldn't afford to put me in a select team (which was basically the only league for girls my age and older). Sadness, but then, you know, band. Ugh. Whatever.

My love simmered from then on. It was truly rekindled two summers ago when I became RIVETED to the World Cup in Germany. It all started when I happened upon the opening game between Germany and Costa Rica. What a beautiful game. 4-2, as I recall. Philip Lahm scored the opening goal, and Torsten Frings has an absolutely stunning 40-yard goal that completely floored me, a football novice. I was so impressed with Germany, that I became a raving lunatic Germany supporter. Football does crazy things to a person's psyche. It sucks you in, and you get passionately invested in one side that you previously had no knowledge of. It's madness. But I love it.

Needless to say, I was devastated when those damn Italians sent Germany out in the semi-finals. I'm still bitter. Not ashamed to admit it, either. But Germany did everyone proud. It was a fantastic effort for a side that had previously been dismissed.

Since then, my love has grown. I've been following club football as well, primarily in the Bundesliga in Germany, and somewhat in the Premiere League in England. My favorite team in the Bundesliga is Werder Bremen. They play exciting, attacking, high-scoring football. I've never watched a game of theirs that I didn't thoroughly enjoy (well, except the ones they lose).

Euro 2008 has been a high point of my summer thus far. This week alone has been amazing. The Turkey vs. Czech Republic game?! Ohmygod. So fantastic. Such a thing I have never witnessed. I love the drama. I love the intensity.

Naturally, I am still completely behind Germany. My love for that team will never die. When Michael Ballack freakin' annihilated the Austrians today with an amazing free kick, I screamed. I won't lie. I don't know why. But I did. That's sports, I guess.


I want them to go all the way. I want them to be the European champions. I think they're capable. But they've got to step up their game against Portugal. They've been somewhat unconvincing thus far, barely securing victories against teams that should be easily defeated. Hopefully they got losing out of their system with their defeat at the hands of Croatia. I think that showed them that they have weaknesses they have to address. Mario Gomez needs to GO. I'm sorry, I don't care how well he plays for Stuttgart, the shot he missed today was inexcusable. He's had his chance, and he blew it. Put Podolski in the front. UGH. At least Podolski has shown that he can more than perform under the pressure of international football.

AAAHHHH I can't wait til Thursday! But in the meantime there's France vs. Italy tomorrow, which should be a dramafest of unparalleled proportions (well, the World Cup final would probably outdo this meeting, but whatevs). I am supporting France, naturally. Remember, I still hate the Italians! Any humiliation they suffer is retribution for 2006. Which is why I so enjoyed the Dutch thumping they received (I will support Holland 100% if Germany makes an early exit, simply because, wow, they've really been fantastic thus far).

Anyway. FOOTBALL. YES. LOVES IT.

I have no idea why I got so obsessed, but once it gets you...you're hooked for life. Never underestimate the power of football.

Captain Michael Ballack after their defeat in 2006 in the Semi-finals. I think I cried with him - laaaame, I know. :'(

Captain Michael Ballack, Torsten Frings, and Oliver Neuville during the World Cup. Three of Germany's finest footballers. Goddamn.

Father's Day?

Cliche post ahead.

I'm going to take this opportunity to gush about my parents and how awesome they are. Since it is Father's Day, I'll talk about my Dad first.

My Dad is a ridiculous man. In a good way. Certainly we've had our problems and differences over the years, but he has always supported me and been there when I needed him. Without all of his help and support, I would not be anywhere near where I am today. And without his ridiculous colloquialisms and mannerisms, I don't imagine my warped sense of humor would be so intact. There are Hammons family songs. Stupid ones, about a little chick (who couldn't lay an egg), about a dead skunk (in the middle of the road), and about being drop-kicked by Jesus (through the goal-posts of life). All of these are thanks to my Dad.

Anyway. I really respect him, because now, while he's supposed to be kicking back and enjoying himself, he's taking care of my stepsisters. It's amazing.

And also, my dumb ass locks myself out of my car in the middle of the night, and he drives my aforementioned dumb ass all around town to get my spare and retrieve said car from a Waffle House parking lot (mmmm Wizzy Hizzy). Whenever I call him with a problem, he is ON IT. My sister and I talked about this last night...it's quite something. From the words "I need help" he is just like, ON TARGET, WE ARE FIGURING OUT THIS PROBLEM, DON'T STRESS.

My Mom on the other hand would probably be like, "ALYSSA! WHYYYYY?!" first, and then she'd start thinking about how to fix the problem. :)

Mom is a worry-wart, but it's ok. She's also totally awesome and really lenient and generous and easier on me than I ever deserved. I'm such a shit! But she always helps me out and supports me.

I can't imagine having unsupportive parents. They have fought tooth and nail for me since day one. They pissed me off a bit growing up, but I understand now why they did some of the things they did. They gave me enough freedom to prove that I was trustworthy. When they realized I didn't need supervision, they gave me guidance.

Aaaaahhhh, parents. Love 'em! Now stay up out my biznass! Haha. I'm only kind of kidding.

ARETHA!

I have rekindled my love for Ms. Franklin. Oh. Have I ever.

"I Never Loved a Man" is a perfect song. PERFECT. "Natural Woman" is equally perfect.


Anywho. I've been feeling incredibly withdrawn lately. I just want to be left alone. Sorry if I've been checked out and distant. I just don't feel like being around most people.

I've got car problems coming out of my ears. The inspection is like, 9 months past due, and I feel like an idiot. If I get pulled over...ugh. So screwed. It'll pass, I'm just poor (and easily distracted).

I am BROKE AS A JOKE. Not a funny one, either.

I am finally making connections in my life in regard to my dichotomous existence. I am trying to make all of my idiosyncrasies work with each other.

I feel better. Which is good. I just feel kind of disjointed, though. Scattered. Confused.

The more I think about things, the less sense they make. Frustration.

"I believe that good things happen to good people"

What a bunch of crap.

...?

Jimmie Hammons passed away this morning at 12:30. She was 86 years old.

I have a funeral to go to this Friday in Waco.

That's that, I guess. I just hope they don't posthumously transform her into a god-fearing southern baptist. That happened to my grandpa. I think that's a bunch of nonsense. Dishonest and disrespectful to the memory of the deceased.

Death is so ridiculous and over-ritualized.

I can't think of anything else to say.

Wherein I lose it.

I don't even know where to begin.

My Nana is dying. I'm expecting a call tomorrow to tell me she's passed away. Apparently she's down to 80 pounds and doesn't remember anyone. The last time I saw her was Christmas. She was in bad shape. All I did was hold her hand and talk to her.

I'm having a really difficult time processing these events. On the one hand, this is terribly sad, and I'm upset. On the other, to me at least, she died a long time ago. She hasn't been herself in years. For the past 3, she's been confined to a bed in a nursing home, miserable.

She still has brown hair well into her 80's, naturally. Hmm.

My Nana is a strong lady. I wish I could have gotten to know her. I feel like I never got to know any of my grandparents. They were lovely people, but I didn't know anything about them. I didn't connect with them. I feel like their lives, their stories, their memories, just disappeared when they did. It's such a shame, too, I'm sure they had stories to tell.

Basically, I'm just having a hard time feeling anything about it all. She's been gone for a long time. This is just the end.


And now I'm really starting to question everything about my life. I've just been so depressed that I don't even want to get up in the morning. I haven't been helping around the house, I don't have a job, and I'm being such a shit to my mom. I can't believe myself. This is not who I am. So I have to start getting my shit together. Here's what I need to do:

*CLEAN. Everything.
*Organize.
*Help with chores.
*Find some supplemental income.
*Find a volunteer position.



I'm back in counseling and I'm seeing a psychiatrist. I debated blogging about it, but I think we need to work on mental illness acceptance. So there it is. I've struggled with it for a loooong time, but I feel like now I might be able to really make some positive long-term changes. I'd never seen a psychiatrist before this, so maybe that will help.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar II. I'm not entirely sure what this means, but as far as I can tell, it basically just means that my mood swings are less frequent, and that my depressive states last longer and are more severe than my manic states. It is frequently undiagnosed because manic states are deemed as being "high-functioning", and therefore only the depression is treated.

I was shocked when I received this diagnosis. My sister is Bipolar as well (but Bipolar I). I grew up watching her struggle with it, and I never suspected I suffered from something similar.

I would definitely agree that I have mood swings. I can feel totally fine for a month, and then spend three in a deep depression. Apparently, Thailand was just one really long manic state. I loved it, but I don't know. I was probably behaving recklessly.

I'm on some new medication, but it costs about $200 for a month. I can't stay on it, it's too expensive. This would lead into a rant about our bullshit healthcare system, but that's for another time. Suffice it to say that even with good insurance, I'm still paying A LOT out of pocket for all of this. I can honestly say that without my mom's help, I wouldn't be able to pursue treatment.


Anyway, the counselor seems to be a lot more competent than ones I've seen in the past. More structured. I feel like I'm going to get stuff worked out, rather than just talk about nonsense for an hour and feel more confused than before.

I just want to be happy. Or at least satisfied. I want to be able to start my senior with a fresh perspective and enough drive and positivity to do well and cope with my schedule.


I can't say for sure if this is rock bottom, but it feels like it. But I know I can climb back up.

(Wow, this turned into a long entry.)

File under "oh yay"

No no no, she's the one who has that, not me.

I'm just sad and then happy and then sad and then happy again.



Mmmmm delicious mental health.

I am such an emo FUCK.

Love is real
it is not
just in novels or the movies
it is fact
and it is standing here right in front of you
so if you open your eyes
what a sweet discovery
there is hope, and there is joy, and there is acceptance
so now let all the light that collects on your plants
keep you warm
make you smile
and I will be there with this pen in my hand to record
all the while
you'll be laughing so loud
that the house would shake with sound
and everything will be as new as the day it was found.

Love is real
it is not just in long distance commercials
or something that you thought you felt back in high school
so I will turn
black and white
become that horoscope you're reading
it predicts something good is on its way
and then I will send you the world green and blue
in a box through the mail
you can open it up
hold it right in your hand and be glad that it's there
and be glad that you're there
now you can feel all the knots in your stomach start to untie
and suddenly it's not so hard to say you're alright.

Love is real
it is not
just in poetry and stories
it is truth
and it will follow you
everywhere you go from now on
so if you would just cast off your doubt
then your lips would answer for you
oh my darling, when you smile
it is like a song
and I can hear it now.

"Kathy with a K's Song", Bright Eyes



This song makes me feel like I'm 16. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. The key though, I think, is how it's sung. It's so tortured! The lyrics by themselves lend a somewhat hopeful tone, but the performed version is much more bittersweet. Conor Oberst has a voice that is more or less an acquired taste. The first time I heard him was when I was 14 and my older sister had a burgeoning obsession with him. I distinctly remember hating it. But I don't know, it's so raw and painful. I like that shit, y'know?

GOD.

That's just such an integral part of my personality. It's why I love sad stories. I respond to extreme emotion. I live a life of extremes. I have a hard time feeling anything lately, so when I can actually feel something, I don't care if it's elation or despair. It's there. It's tangible. GAH.

I hate my life I hate my life I hate my life.
(LIES!)

hrm

I need to write down my thoughts about the future somewhere, otherwise I will go crazy (that ship, while it hasn't quite sailed, is all-aboard and ready to go).

So. I have one year left as an undergraduate student at Webster University. I am currently on a lease on a house through next May. I need 9 credits to graduate. I will not graduate early. I WILL change my minors from Anthropology and Women's Studies to German and Human Rights. Call it a change in priorities, I don't know, I just figured with my future ambitions, those are far more appropriate.

Anthropology is great and I've really enjoyed my classes with it, but something had to give. I can only have two minors. BAH.

German wasn't originally slated to work out in terms of time, but because I can register for the Berlin class as 3 hours of German, I'll be able to get the necessary 18 for the minor. Might as well. As "they" say, major in anything and minor in a language. It's just more practical for me.

Aaaand, Human Rights. It's relatively new, so I didn't think we would have enough classes in St. Louis for me to be a minor (I believe it used to only be offered at our Geneva campus). But now, I have 9 of the required hours, and I need 9 more. I can do it, it's just going to be an interesting year.

OK. Academically, I should be ok. I need to start making straight A's for my peace of mind, but otherwise, I think I'm fairly squared away there.

Now, as far as extra-curricular activities go, I am kind of in charge of Students for Gender Equality, and I want to make stuff happen with it. I've had the thought of having a Feminist Fun Fair or something, where we can have speakers, and activities, and perhaps an equal pay bake sale (google that shit, it's awesome). Obviously, we'll still have our normal stuff, but I want to expand it.

I want to be more involved with Amnesty International and maybe get involved in some other stuff as well.

I want to be a better volunteer. I want to get involved in the election. Campus Democrats, maybe.

I am so looking forward to getting back to STL and my new house. I can't wait to decorate (and live in a room that's larger than a closet, and *gasp*, has windows!).



And then inevitably I get the question of what I want to do beyond that. It's all very vague, but I have some ideas. First of all, I want to go straight through grad school after I graduate. I just don't want to wait, because I know it gets harder and harder and I KNOW I want a master's.

I'm thinking very seriously about Webster's Global MA in either International Relations or International Human Rights. Both would be splendid. If I did that, I would be done by August of 2010. I imagine if I didn't some finagling with the schedule, I could be done by May of 2010 as well. That is ideal.

After I graduate...I don't know. I've been doing a lot of thinking about teaching. Teaching itself sounds great to me, I'd have a decent salary, and I'd have summers off. Naturally, it's a very trying profession, and I don't mean to trivialize it. Quite the contrary, the relative difficulty of it is what is giving me pause. Teaching has never been my "dream".

I would really just like to get a decent paying job. Seriously. I would like to be doing something related to my major, but I'm flexible. I just have SO. MANY. STUDENT. LOANS.

I also don't know where I'm going. I've toyed with the thought of moving back to Texas (Austin, most likely) to teach, because I know how the certification process works there, but I just don't know. I don't really want to come back here. I want to get started with my life, and if I move back to Texas, that's just going to feel like another transition. I'm sick of that.

I'm going to a coast, that's for sure. I've thought about Seattle and San Francisco, but the cost of living is exorbitant. I want somewhere that has a good public transportation system, because I am selling my car and getting a scooter or something. UGH. So done with this whole car business.

GOD. I just really don't know. I guess it all depends on where I can get a job. If I can make a decent salary in my field right after graduation then HECK YES I'll take it. If not...I'm back to square one.

Insert witty title here

I can't write anymore. I had so much potential in high school that it makes me sad to read my contrived words. BLAH.

Being down on myself is exceedingly easy these days. I am such a shit to my parents. I can't believe it. I used to be a good child. Subconscious overdue teenage rebellious stage? What a terrible thought.

Eccentricities are only cute to a certain degree. I need to learn when to mask certain facets of my personality and when to show them freely.

I want to start taking more photos.

Oooh! Steph is moving all of my stuff into the new house here in a few days. I am so beyond excited for that biznass come August. Great googly-moogly. I just inherited my sister's bed (she inherited it from my mom's boyfriend) as well, and that is fan-fucking-tastic because it is a ridiculously comfortable bed (of appropriate size - not too big, not too small). Who knows, maybe I'll start to feel more adult if I stop sleeping on something similar to what I imagine soldiers slept on in the trenches of WWI (Hyperbole?! Never!). It even has a nice matching frame and everything. Exciting! And alllll fo' free!

I'm also getting a giant, ugly couch if I so desire. With matching love seat (speaking of, what a misnomer. Everyone knows you're loving on the couch). I will re-cover the cushions, because currently they are decorated with a quaint country scene containing barns and wagons. Not really my style.


GAWD. Life hardest.

Anyway. I'm way tired, so I'll leave you with some random images of the now:

This is just Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett (co-stars in the excellent film "Notes on a Scandal"). I don't know, I just think they're pretty great.

San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom awaiting the ruling on Gay Marriage in California. Awesome. Totally dreamy.


How true.

DANG!

One year ago today

I was getting on a plane in the Bangkok international airport to start my journey home (by way of Taipei, Taiwan, and Los Angeles).

I have such a strange perception of time in regard to my Thailand memories. On the one hand, it feels like the memories are from some far-off vacuum in history that happened only in my mind. It has no context, no past, and no future. It is simply an unfamiliar existence.

But then on the other hand, I have such vivid memories of my time there - mostly triggered by smells, sounds, tastes, and photographs - that it feels very organic and real. Burning leaves, car exhaust, and incense (but only certain kinds) take me back to Hua Hin like it was yesterday. Sticky, breathless heat, and colorful neon lights affixed to signs the size of multi-story buildings will always make me feel like I'm at the night market.

Stray dogs and pad thai. Horrifyingly large insects. The smell of salt wafting in from the ocean. Waking to the soft sound of waves on the beach at 7 AM. Gritty sand in every crevice. Sunburns. 7-11. Roti. Dirty feet (and not caring). Yellow polo shirts. King Bhumibol (Rama IX). Elephants. Squat toilets. Complete lack of respect for intellectual property rights. Having dinner for $0.70. Having dinner for $8.00 and feeling deeply ripped off. Noisy European tourists. Germans in speedos. Unbelievably beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent, and genuinely kind Dutch women. Soccer at Nino's. Nino's. Poker with the kitchen staff fueled by copious amounts of Thai whiskey or Sambuca. Drunken stumbles down the road to VIP. Drunken skinny-dipping in the side pool of VIP at 2 AM. Drunkenness. Dancing. Crowded Thai clubs. Crazy Thai people. Amazing Thai people. Friendly Thai people. Hard-working Thai people. Thai people. Thailand.


My feelings about Thailand are best illustrated through my memories. They are all I have.

I sometimes wonder if maybe I made a mistake with staying at Webster. It's worth considering, after all I am being charged exorbitant amounts of money for an education that is arguably on par with universities that charge substantially less for it. However, at some point in these musings, I always come back to Thailand, and realize that it was all worth it. Had I not gone to Webster, there is absolutely no way I would have gone to Thailand. Perhaps I would never have gone there later in life, either.

Such a thought is an abhorrence.

When I say I want to go back, I mean it. I will go back. And I will stay for as long as I need to. It's a need. I can't even describe the distinct feeling of home I had while I was there. When I left it, even for a weekend in Cambodia, I felt a longing for it. When I left Bangkok a year ago, I don't think I realized how permanent that end really was. No matter how many times I return or for how long I stay, it will never be quite the same as that Spring at Webster University Thailand. Living in a shithole with a bunch of crazy and amazing people while trying to pass our classes and learn something about the world.

I'd say we were fairly successful.

Hrm

So I made it home. Good ol' Mansfield.

It was a mostly uneventful drive, and it went by pretty quickly. I listened to 8 Queen albums, from about Joplin, MO to Muskogee, OK. Everything was great until I got into Downtown Ft. Worth, and of course the rush hour traffic made me want to scream. But I got home. Home home home. YAY!

Now I've pretty much been hanging out with my sister, my parents, Kevin, Rachel, and just generally being lazy. I've watched the second season of Reno 911! probably about 3 times.

Aaaand, I'm done.

Indecision 2008

I really hate packing.

Oh well, I guess it has to be done.


I'm so burnt out on the election right now. It's difficult to describe my thoughts, but I'm going to try.

1) I don't think this is hurting the Democratic party. I think the only people saying that are Rush Limbaugh or similar, in a desperate attempt to project some sort of crumbling image onto us. I think it's perfectly healthy for us to be having such a drawn-out debate, because this is probably the most important job in the country, and being highly scrutinized should be part of the process. Even though it's becoming tiresome at this point, it is important that we look more seriously at candidates before ushering them through the nomination process. Or it could be a lot worse, and we could just wake up one day and accidentally nominate someone we don't necessarily like that much (ie - John McCain). This is a better way, I think. Besides, the only reason we're being so fussy is because we know we're picking the future president.

2) Hillary Clinton is my first choice. Let me qualify that by saying that I absolutely love Barack Obama as well. I'm like, 55-45 in favor of Ms. Clinton. I'm sick to death of supporters of one hating the other. I think it's total bullshit when people imply that they're so opposite that you can't support them both. That's just simply not true. I think they've only voted differently twice or something crazy like that. They are cut from the same cloth. Either would do a fantastic job. For me, it came down to relatively small matters that decided it for me. It's really stupid and completely indefensible, but what really solidified my choice was when I saw that campaign stop she made where someone stood up and started yelling "Iron my shirt!"

I just thought, FUCK THAT, GO HILLARY GO! Of course, I have other reasons, but that was an *aha* kind of moment.

3) If Barack Obama gets the nomination, I'll be thrilled to vote for him. I'll be disappointed, sure, but the second the Democratic party decides on a nominee, I will be behind them 100%.

4) That being said, if this delegate process gets shady, I'm gonna be pissed. I think the candidate with the most votes should be the nominee. I know, coming from a Clinton supporter that might sound odd. But truth be told, if Clinton starts pulling shenanigans with the Superdelegates, I'm not supporting her anymore. It's completely hypocritical to tout democracy and then not follow the people's mandate. I know they're very very very close, but still. Ugh.

I wish they'd run together, but I don't know if that could even be a possibility now. And honestly I don't think Clinton would accept the VP position, simply because I imagine she could be a more effective senator.



So basically right now I'm just waiting for this to play out. If it goes "my" way, then great, but if it doesn't, that's just fine as well. People who are claiming they won't vote for Clinton if Obama loses, or won't vote for Obama if Clinton loses are RIDICULOUS. I would urge them to remove their heads from their asses and seriously consider the alternatives.


I think right now we should be focusing on how much John McCain SUCKS. That's one thing I'll never get tired of.

Take Back the Night

I just imported this from a facebook note:

So, it's that time of year again where we all get together and have an event that none of us want to happen: Take Back the Night.

I wish we lived in a society where such an event would be deemed absurd and unnecessary.

But we don't.

We instead live in a society that harbors hate and resentment towards women, that is in turn expressed through abuse and violence. Unspeakable violence. Every year I am appalled at the stories I hear. Every year I am driven to disbelief that I go to school with rapists and abusers. I sit in class with them. I interact with them. Daily.

But every year, I am also amazed at the power of women. I am amazed at our strength, our kindness, our compassion, our love, and our fight. Our sisterhood. Our willingness to support each other, and fight this together.

Let's face it, we live in a violent society. We see violence everywhere. It's been permeating our minds since birth, and it has gotten to the point where we no longer even blink an eye when we hear statistics about such violence. People can still sleep at night knowing that 1 in 4 women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime.

But when you see it, when you hear it, coming from a woman sitting across from you, it becomes real. It becomes unbearably real. So real that you don't even want to look, you don't want to hear. You want to clasp your hands over your eyes and scream so that maybe somehow you can shut out the palpable suffering, but even if you can't see it, even if you can't hear it, it's there. It's there in every woman, man, and child on this earth. Everyone could tell you a story about how violence has affected their lives.

This has got to stop.

All of it.

I don't want to have to have this event. The fact that it exists, means that society has FAILED. Fifty people is a lot for Webster, especially for an event about sexual assault. It's an all-time high for us. But it's still not enough. I want this talked about outside of events like TBTN. It's only one night a year, so let's make this happen every night of the year. Every day. Every second of every day I want people to know that rape is wrong. Molestation is wrong. Domestic violence is wrong. Stalking is wrong. Sexual harassment is wrong. Street harassment is wrong (Hello! Can we talk about this?!). Let's make THAT part of our national dialogue.

I don't care what Barack Obama's preacher said. I don't care what color Hillary Clinton's pantsuit is. However, I do care that John McCain voted against an equal-pay-for-women bill. Douchebag. Let's talk about that!

Apparently the Missouri state legislature just got rid of an item in a bill that would provide $1 million to fund rape kits and counseling.

A senator actually said, "You can't feed all the cows."

Is this what America has come to? We're comparing rape victims to livestock?


However, all that being said, no matter how enraged I am, I am also encouraged. Encouraged by all of the strong women around me who know exactly what it is to know complete and utter hopelessness, but who are survivors anyway.

What I've heard tonight, I will never forget.

Clarity.

So disregard all that nonsense in the previous post about being a good judge of character.

I keep getting all these conflicting messages in my life telling me how to manage my personal relationships and my social life, and it's driving me crazy.

On the one hand, I am intensely instinctual, both in my thoughts and actions. When something doesn't feel right, it REALLY doesn't feel right, and I act accordingly. Conversely, when something feelings right, it's RIGHT, and I can never truly understand why. Some of the time, these feelings betray me, and then I'm back at square one, not only dissatisfied with the situation, but newly unable to trust in myself.

Then I think about the Buddhist Psychology (of the Lojong teachings) class that I took in Thailand, and how much it helped me to be happier with my life. Essentially it is a philosophy that is completely opposite of anything I've ever subscribed to. I have to stop making these snap judgments, or it's going to destroy my relationships, and ultimately, me. I have to continue to rely on my instincts for a lot of other things, because it's mostly accurate for me, but I need to start looking at whole individuals, rather than just their behaviors.

I always feel it's unfair when someone dislikes me because they met me when I was having a bad day, so how can I continue to perpetuate those same unfair assumptions about others?

I need to start meditating and chanting and doing yoga again. Maybe that will help me relax...and gain some clarity.

ramblings

I don't know what to do with myself these days. Just when I think I have everything figured out, just when I think I might have plans, things go completely haywire.

I get feelings about people and situations. I know almost instantly if I'm going to get along with someone or if I'm going to avoid them at all costs. Occasionally I'll change my original impression, but most of the time I a fairly good judge of character.

Which is why it's so frustrating when other people tend to disagree with me.

Maybe I should work on being more available and less neurotic. I'm sure it would help. In all areas of my life. But I suppose in the end, I know I'm a worthwhile human being. Whether someone is willing to stick around and find that out is up to them. Maybe I shouldn't make it so difficult to find that person in me. The one worth knowing.

Das ist Leben, oder...?

Hopefully I'll be home by May 8th. I've decided not to stay for graduation. I'm just too overwhelmed right now, I NEED to be home. Soon. So, I'm going to try to leave by a week from Thursday. Yeah. Pack this weekend, finish my last final on Wednesday night, and then get up and drive on Thursday.

I'm excited!

Pablo Neruda

Here are some of my favorite Pablo Neruda poems (from the collection, "Cien Sonetos de Amor" - 100 Love Sonnets).

Sonnet LXXVIII (English translation):

I have no never-again, I have no always. In the sand
victory abandoned its footprints.
I am a poor man willing to love his fellow men.
I don't know who you are. I love you. I don't give away thorns,
and I don't sell them.

Maybe someone will know that I didn't weave crowns
to draw blood; that I fought against mockery;
that I did fill the high tide of my soul with the truth.
I repaid vileness with doves.

I have no never, because I was different -
was, am, will be. And in the name
of my ever-changing love I proclaim a purity.

Death is only the stone of oblivion.
I love you, on your lips I kiss happiness itself.
Let's gather firewood. We'll light a fire on the mountain.

Sonnet XLVI (English translation):

Of all the stars I admired, drenched
in various rivers and mists,
I chose only the one I love.
Since then I sleep with the night.

Of all the waves, one wave and another wave,
green sea, green chill, branchings of green,
I chose only the one wave,
the indivisible wave of your body.

All the waterdrops, all the roots,
all the threads of light gathered to me here;
they came to me sooner or later.

I wanted your hair, all for myself.
From all the graces my homeland offered
I chose only your savage heart.

Sonnet XLV (English translation):

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -
because - I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

Sonnet XXXIX (English translation):

But I forgot that your hands fed the roots,
watering the tangled roses,
till your fingerprints bloomed
full, in a natural peace.

Like pets, your hoe and your sprinkling can
follow you around, biting and licking the earth.
That work is how you let this richness loose,
the carnations' fiery freshness.

I wish the love and dignity of bees for your hands,
mixing and spreading their transparent brood
in the earth: they cultivate even my heart,

so that I am like a scorched rock
that suddenly sings when you are near, because it drinks
the water you carry from the forest, in your voice.

Sonnet XXXIII (English translation):

Love, we're going home now,
where the vines clamber over the trellis:
even before you, the summer will arrive,
on its honeysuckle feet, in your bedroom.

Our nomadic kisses wandered over all the world:
Armenia, dollop of disinterred honey - :
Ceylon, green dove - : and the Yang-Tse with its old
old patience, dividing the day from the night.

And now, dearest, we return, across the crackling sea
like two blind birds to their wall,
to their nest in a distant spring:

because love cannot always fly without resting,
our lives return to the wall, to the rocks of the sea:
our kisses head back home where they belong.

Sonnet XXI (English translation):

If only love would spread its savor through me!
-not to go one moment more without spring!
What I sold into sorrow was only my hands,
dearest: now leave me with your kisses.

Shut out the months light with your fragrance;
close all the doors with your hair.
Only do not forget, if I wake up crying
it's only because in my dream I'm a lost child

hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands,
for your caresses like the wheat,
the flashing rapture of shadow and energy.

O my dearest, nothing but shadow there
where you walk with me through your dream:
you tell me when the light returns.

Sonnet XVI (English translation):

I love the handful of the earth that you are.
Because of its meadows, vast as a planet,
I have no other star. You are my replica
of the multiplying universe.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know
from extinguished constellations;
your skin throbs like the streak
of a meteor through rain.

Your hips were that much of the moon for me;
your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun;
your heart, fiery with its long red rays,

was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade.
So I pass across your burning form, kissing
you - compact and planetary, my dove, my globe.


He kills me! In a good way.