![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Michigan trip (and last week catch-up)
Aug. 21st, 2012 09:56 pmI don't think I've written about it yet, so here's a quick rundown...
It was wonderful. Really, really so.
( Read more... )
It was wonderful. Really, really so.
( Read more... )
Response to a question to me about how to address a teen's questions about poly stuff:
I think the most important thing to convey, whether talking about monogamous or poly relationships, is that there is no "default" she has to live by. That it's up to her and her partner/s to construct the relationships that are healthy and happy for them.
And that they can take pieces and ideas that work, and discard those that don't, and that every relationship is different.
And that any kind of relationship can be unhealthy, if done badly. Respect and compassion will get you far.
_______________________
Related to that, I find it every bit as true in regards to all forms of relationships:
Also from the conversation with the awesome sex-geeky couple I've been talking to, in regards to my public vids (and I get what they mean; there are times I've postponed looking into certain elements of folks lives until it felt "right" to me)
*grin* yeah, I get that. I do share them with my platonic local friends as well, so it may be less weird for me. I'd recommend starting with the moya filter; that's more general sexuality rambling. Graphic often links to or discusses vids and really directly porny writing that might be a touch awkward if you want to explore what boundaries feel right to you at the moment. I tend to believe in consciously building dynamics in relationships, platonic or sexual. I really hate trying to dump things into pre-existing molds. We get to construct this friendship in whatever way we all enjoy and find healthy.
_______________________
Related conversation with Chad about one of the most beautiful and meaningful elements of how he accepts and welcomes all of me:
Incidentally, this is why it's so incredibly important and meaningful that you react to me being poly the way you do, welcoming the joy it brings me and willingly taking on the extra emotional work it sometimes requires to support that.
me: I've had that treated as an irritating quirk to be grumpily tolerated, too. Especially by Mike. Haven't made that partnering mistake often in more recent years.
And something related that I just edited into the last post, but really fits here better:
This really relates to a lot of what I was talking about in terms of primary partners and ability to cope with my radical openness on taboo topics, and it being so important to me. Whether it's psych or sex or chronic invisible illness, or what-have-you that's on my mind at the moment, I basically see this as my calling. It's not just about the misery of having to hide, and hassle of remembering who knows what, the fun of talking sexy-sex. It's about my calling, what I can contribute to the world, my passion for committing to living this way.
Edit to add:
And it's about my joy, too. That's a big element of some non-LJ-appropriate stresses at the moment. I can't be in relationships where my joy is tolerated rather than celebrated. "No tell" relationships may work perfectly well for many people. For me, no. To not be able to freely share that joy with my partner, ramble happily in sexual nostalgia, share my excitement about new developments? Horrible. Horrible to lock down like that, and it kills my sexual relationship with that person, pretty much invariably. It creates a certain type of de facto monogamy that isn't natural, but stress-based. If a flirtation is likely to be a source of stress, of conflict, how can I joyfully enter into it? And what's the point of entering into it if I can't do it with joy, without a guilty conscience nibbling at me about the tensions and stress this is likely to cause? Some of my closest partners have all kinds of erotic frisson about secrecy, and playing at the edge of boundaries. I get it, but for me, it's a sexuality-killer; I can't eroticize it at all. I'm also totally unable to eroticize humiliation-play (see last few days of posts for crystal clear reasons why), or certain types of power dynamics, including being truly submissive (I play around that territory in various ways, and can enjoy other people in those roles on occasion, but I'm basically a switch: stone top/encouraging domme or power bottom willing to accept help being submissive to my own clit, but not to other people. I also cannot eroticize feminization (of me) in the vast majority of ways (there are a few earth mother/warrior woman tricks around that, though, that do connect authentically with my internal gender sense)
OK, the clonopin has kicked in, and HARD. Can't read paragraphs. No idea if the last few rambling paragraphs are even close to coherent. Back... later.
I think the most important thing to convey, whether talking about monogamous or poly relationships, is that there is no "default" she has to live by. That it's up to her and her partner/s to construct the relationships that are healthy and happy for them.
And that they can take pieces and ideas that work, and discard those that don't, and that every relationship is different.
And that any kind of relationship can be unhealthy, if done badly. Respect and compassion will get you far.
_______________________
Related to that, I find it every bit as true in regards to all forms of relationships:
Also from the conversation with the awesome sex-geeky couple I've been talking to, in regards to my public vids (and I get what they mean; there are times I've postponed looking into certain elements of folks lives until it felt "right" to me)
*grin* yeah, I get that. I do share them with my platonic local friends as well, so it may be less weird for me. I'd recommend starting with the moya filter; that's more general sexuality rambling. Graphic often links to or discusses vids and really directly porny writing that might be a touch awkward if you want to explore what boundaries feel right to you at the moment. I tend to believe in consciously building dynamics in relationships, platonic or sexual. I really hate trying to dump things into pre-existing molds. We get to construct this friendship in whatever way we all enjoy and find healthy.
_______________________
Related conversation with Chad about one of the most beautiful and meaningful elements of how he accepts and welcomes all of me:
Incidentally, this is why it's so incredibly important and meaningful that you react to me being poly the way you do, welcoming the joy it brings me and willingly taking on the extra emotional work it sometimes requires to support that.
me: I've had that treated as an irritating quirk to be grumpily tolerated, too. Especially by Mike. Haven't made that partnering mistake often in more recent years.
And something related that I just edited into the last post, but really fits here better:
This really relates to a lot of what I was talking about in terms of primary partners and ability to cope with my radical openness on taboo topics, and it being so important to me. Whether it's psych or sex or chronic invisible illness, or what-have-you that's on my mind at the moment, I basically see this as my calling. It's not just about the misery of having to hide, and hassle of remembering who knows what, the fun of talking sexy-sex. It's about my calling, what I can contribute to the world, my passion for committing to living this way.
Edit to add:
And it's about my joy, too. That's a big element of some non-LJ-appropriate stresses at the moment. I can't be in relationships where my joy is tolerated rather than celebrated. "No tell" relationships may work perfectly well for many people. For me, no. To not be able to freely share that joy with my partner, ramble happily in sexual nostalgia, share my excitement about new developments? Horrible. Horrible to lock down like that, and it kills my sexual relationship with that person, pretty much invariably. It creates a certain type of de facto monogamy that isn't natural, but stress-based. If a flirtation is likely to be a source of stress, of conflict, how can I joyfully enter into it? And what's the point of entering into it if I can't do it with joy, without a guilty conscience nibbling at me about the tensions and stress this is likely to cause? Some of my closest partners have all kinds of erotic frisson about secrecy, and playing at the edge of boundaries. I get it, but for me, it's a sexuality-killer; I can't eroticize it at all. I'm also totally unable to eroticize humiliation-play (see last few days of posts for crystal clear reasons why), or certain types of power dynamics, including being truly submissive (I play around that territory in various ways, and can enjoy other people in those roles on occasion, but I'm basically a switch: stone top/encouraging domme or power bottom willing to accept help being submissive to my own clit, but not to other people. I also cannot eroticize feminization (of me) in the vast majority of ways (there are a few earth mother/warrior woman tricks around that, though, that do connect authentically with my internal gender sense)
OK, the clonopin has kicked in, and HARD. Can't read paragraphs. No idea if the last few rambling paragraphs are even close to coherent. Back... later.
With permission I'm sharing part of what I've been emailing back and forth about with two new friend-crushes.
For reference, S has a photography blog, and C blogs about minimalism as it applies in her life.
Hey there, me again...
I've been having a pretty damned rough day, after finding out at about two this morning that an old friend from high school actually unexpectedly died about a year ago. I've been trying to pull myself back together after writing a post about her, so I decided to catch up on reading through your other journals (you know, chatting simultaneously with a couple is enough to make me really resent the English lack of distinction between 2nd person singular and 2nd person plural -- I rather approve of the southern work-around of y'all because I definitely see the linguistic need!)
S, your photography really is beautiful and calming in a way that hit me just right, right now. Thank you. (and the post about seeing rather than looking was lovely)
C, [the minimalist blog] is more challenging for me, even scary, and I'd love to talk some about that, compare perspectives a bit. I very much understand the logic and reasoning behind this kind of minimalism, and perhaps as a packrat I paradoxically understand it better (and I'm very familiar with the Paradox of Choice research), but also as a packrat it's scary and threatening to me in weird and emotional ways. I "declutter" now and again in small ways, but I'm so far from minimalist in my own life partially because of a difference in how I think about stuff as a resource. Part of that is a result of spending many years extremely cash-poor and therefore loathe to discard anything I might need again and not be able to replace. The even bigger issue, though, is how I construct my place within my community. I'm the packrat amongst a social circle made up much more heavily of minimalists. Several of my housemates showed up at my door with little more than a duffel bag. I'm the stable home base, the storage place for everyone, the junk store anyone can rifle through for the things they need. If being communal in that particular way weren't so central to me, I think I'd find it less scary to get rid of things, but it reminds me of my "spare pills" case in my messenger bag, which I was re-sorting the other day. It contains 10-15 pills, tablets, etc, of every med in the house, even the ones I never take, or am contraindicated from taking. I'm not so much carrying it around for me, as so that I always have the best chance of having what someone else needs when they need it. Over and over again, folks have found "just what they need" in my house, and I love that experience, find it rewarding and joyful. Best friend in a panic because he has an art project due that day, procrastinated, and hasn't the foggiest where he could possibly find a disc of wood in time for his plan? Well, damn, I have that. A souvenir piece of an art project someone else had done several years ago, making use of cross-sections of tree trunk. Same thing with my books; I have close to 4000 in the house. I wish I had digital copies of all of them for backup and ease of personal access, but for giving others access to new and interesting stuff? For enticing someone to pick up a book on the spur of the moment and leaf through it? I don't think we've figured out yet how to balance intellectual property and ability to share when it comes to online copies of books yet. There's progress, but it's nowhere near where I need it to be before I'd feel like I'd still be giving people the same opportunity to explore when they come into my space. I really regret some of the books I've ended up purchasing in digital format because of how it's limited my ability to share.
I'm really curious to hear your thoughts about the complexities of balancing a minimalist approach based on careful awareness of your needs, and a deeply communal approach that I feel requires me to have handy exactly the things I can't predict. Also, how do you navigate the balancing of minimalism and financial fears of lack of necessary resources to pick things up on the spur of the moment if they do become necessary again?
I hope I'm not coming across as defensive or attacking; I don't intend to be either -- these are things I've honestly struggled with philosophically over my life, and I'm very aware of the certain ways in which my mass of "stuff" also limits my life in certain ways, but I'm not at all certain that minimalism is a good choice for me, personally. Thoughts?
[Awesome Responses]
Good grief, I am intellectually smitten with you and would like to subscribe to your newsletter *grin* more later. Need to remember to talk about how pet decisions play heavily into all this. Watching lightning now, though!
[More awesomeness]
So happy to hear more from you! Oh, the backpacks I have had!
Sorry to say 'more later' again; you're meeting me at an extraordinarily intense and bizarre period. The past few weeks are eating my brain, and my LiveJournal doth overflow. Really, really interested in continuing to talk with both of you, but I may vanish intermittently and I'm really worried I'll end up sending mixed signals and damaging a set of baby-new friendships that I very much want to develop. I've been babbling to people in my life about you, and how excited I am at what seems like it could be Important Friendship for me down the line. And I don't mean that at all euphemistically. Your collective sexy brainmeats certainly aren't discouraging me feeling a bit tingly about things, but that's not the center or necessary element at all. When I feel what seems like potential exciting new friendship I get about twice as giddy and nre-ish as when I find new casual partners. It's always been a quirk of my personality and the role friendship has in my life, but it's been the source of confusion, misunderstandings, and unnecessary stress at times, so I just wanted to make very sure I'm clear with you about what's going on, especially since we're text-only at this point.
Also, way to grok the poly/stuff connection. Other big factor? I am miserable without my animals. Have lived about two years of my life without having my own pets, usually many, and barely emotionally survived thanks to the multitude of professors' dogs. It's a decision I joyfully take to limit myself mobility-wise in order to make as sure as possible I can continue to provide for a pretty large number of decades-long commitments.
Also, what I've just written here feels worth expanding into an lj post. Is what I've written about minimalism, and my excitement about developing friendship, something you'd be comfortable with me using that way?
[And yet again with the Awesome]
So much yay on all fronts!
Off to continue drenching LJ in my thinky-thoughts.
For reference, S has a photography blog, and C blogs about minimalism as it applies in her life.
Hey there, me again...
I've been having a pretty damned rough day, after finding out at about two this morning that an old friend from high school actually unexpectedly died about a year ago. I've been trying to pull myself back together after writing a post about her, so I decided to catch up on reading through your other journals (you know, chatting simultaneously with a couple is enough to make me really resent the English lack of distinction between 2nd person singular and 2nd person plural -- I rather approve of the southern work-around of y'all because I definitely see the linguistic need!)
S, your photography really is beautiful and calming in a way that hit me just right, right now. Thank you. (and the post about seeing rather than looking was lovely)
C, [the minimalist blog] is more challenging for me, even scary, and I'd love to talk some about that, compare perspectives a bit. I very much understand the logic and reasoning behind this kind of minimalism, and perhaps as a packrat I paradoxically understand it better (and I'm very familiar with the Paradox of Choice research), but also as a packrat it's scary and threatening to me in weird and emotional ways. I "declutter" now and again in small ways, but I'm so far from minimalist in my own life partially because of a difference in how I think about stuff as a resource. Part of that is a result of spending many years extremely cash-poor and therefore loathe to discard anything I might need again and not be able to replace. The even bigger issue, though, is how I construct my place within my community. I'm the packrat amongst a social circle made up much more heavily of minimalists. Several of my housemates showed up at my door with little more than a duffel bag. I'm the stable home base, the storage place for everyone, the junk store anyone can rifle through for the things they need. If being communal in that particular way weren't so central to me, I think I'd find it less scary to get rid of things, but it reminds me of my "spare pills" case in my messenger bag, which I was re-sorting the other day. It contains 10-15 pills, tablets, etc, of every med in the house, even the ones I never take, or am contraindicated from taking. I'm not so much carrying it around for me, as so that I always have the best chance of having what someone else needs when they need it. Over and over again, folks have found "just what they need" in my house, and I love that experience, find it rewarding and joyful. Best friend in a panic because he has an art project due that day, procrastinated, and hasn't the foggiest where he could possibly find a disc of wood in time for his plan? Well, damn, I have that. A souvenir piece of an art project someone else had done several years ago, making use of cross-sections of tree trunk. Same thing with my books; I have close to 4000 in the house. I wish I had digital copies of all of them for backup and ease of personal access, but for giving others access to new and interesting stuff? For enticing someone to pick up a book on the spur of the moment and leaf through it? I don't think we've figured out yet how to balance intellectual property and ability to share when it comes to online copies of books yet. There's progress, but it's nowhere near where I need it to be before I'd feel like I'd still be giving people the same opportunity to explore when they come into my space. I really regret some of the books I've ended up purchasing in digital format because of how it's limited my ability to share.
I'm really curious to hear your thoughts about the complexities of balancing a minimalist approach based on careful awareness of your needs, and a deeply communal approach that I feel requires me to have handy exactly the things I can't predict. Also, how do you navigate the balancing of minimalism and financial fears of lack of necessary resources to pick things up on the spur of the moment if they do become necessary again?
I hope I'm not coming across as defensive or attacking; I don't intend to be either -- these are things I've honestly struggled with philosophically over my life, and I'm very aware of the certain ways in which my mass of "stuff" also limits my life in certain ways, but I'm not at all certain that minimalism is a good choice for me, personally. Thoughts?
[Awesome Responses]
Good grief, I am intellectually smitten with you and would like to subscribe to your newsletter *grin* more later. Need to remember to talk about how pet decisions play heavily into all this. Watching lightning now, though!
[More awesomeness]
So happy to hear more from you! Oh, the backpacks I have had!
Sorry to say 'more later' again; you're meeting me at an extraordinarily intense and bizarre period. The past few weeks are eating my brain, and my LiveJournal doth overflow. Really, really interested in continuing to talk with both of you, but I may vanish intermittently and I'm really worried I'll end up sending mixed signals and damaging a set of baby-new friendships that I very much want to develop. I've been babbling to people in my life about you, and how excited I am at what seems like it could be Important Friendship for me down the line. And I don't mean that at all euphemistically. Your collective sexy brainmeats certainly aren't discouraging me feeling a bit tingly about things, but that's not the center or necessary element at all. When I feel what seems like potential exciting new friendship I get about twice as giddy and nre-ish as when I find new casual partners. It's always been a quirk of my personality and the role friendship has in my life, but it's been the source of confusion, misunderstandings, and unnecessary stress at times, so I just wanted to make very sure I'm clear with you about what's going on, especially since we're text-only at this point.
Also, way to grok the poly/stuff connection. Other big factor? I am miserable without my animals. Have lived about two years of my life without having my own pets, usually many, and barely emotionally survived thanks to the multitude of professors' dogs. It's a decision I joyfully take to limit myself mobility-wise in order to make as sure as possible I can continue to provide for a pretty large number of decades-long commitments.
Also, what I've just written here feels worth expanding into an lj post. Is what I've written about minimalism, and my excitement about developing friendship, something you'd be comfortable with me using that way?
[And yet again with the Awesome]
So much yay on all fronts!
Off to continue drenching LJ in my thinky-thoughts.
Confessional
Aug. 4th, 2012 06:14 pmI was just over at my friend Shelby’s place, and catching her up on life in the past few weeks made me realize just why I’m feeling like my emotions are going in a million different directions at once. Wow. Plenty I still can’t really discuss here, but it’s been item after item within days of each other, any one of which would be pretty monumental in my life or Chad’s, on top of pre-existing stressors around the Kenyon Maintenance fight, trying to get my work ADA accommodation sorted out, and dealing with all sorts of med changes and new symptoms and general combination of two steps forward one step back on both physical and psych health fronts. And now I’m in the midst of healing some of my own old shit, fixing up my brain, clearing out the cobwebs and old rotted spots. That, too, is an “any one of these” situation; so, so, much intensity. No wonder I’ve cried more in the past fours days than in the previous four months, and not all of it tears of sadness.
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
Chad's off volunteering today, and I haven't gone back to sleep since he left, although I probably should so that I've got some energy for our day later. The house is totally empty except me and the critters, which is a rare occurrence, and I don't think I'll sleep again until after I write a bit.
So much going on in my head. I'm going to be shaking words out of my fingers for a while here, I expect. Not sure how much any of it will make coherent sense. Not sure how much it'll make me feel vulnerable, or relieved, or what-have-you.
I've been thinking a lot about distance, time, and history. About how it brings stuff up in my head I thought long-dead, or at least deeply, deeply dormant. Also pondering how different some elements of my life would be if we'd had widespread internet and social networking back in my teens.
FYI, the icon above is deeply personally meaningful to me. It was made for me by my brother,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jajy1979, and is a Google aerial shot of my childhood home in Holly, MI. Those dark spaces are all the little spring-fed ponds in "my" woods. It's one of the places in the world (like Kenyon and Roeper) that it's so important to me to show to Chad.
Actually, that's kind of relevant to all the other stuff swirling in my head about what connections I did and didn't maintain over the years. I loved Holly. Davison was only about an hour away from it, but as Mom and Dad have noted many times in the past, the move, when I was 11, hit me extraordinarily hard. I resented it quite literally the entire time I lived in Davison, missed going to Roeper, where I'd been lucky enough to attend for 4th and 5th grade, and never truly connected with Davison on an emotional level as my "home". It didn't help that Dad was coping with the nastiest church dynamics he'd faced; a parish in the middle of a charismatic/mainstream split, where backstabbing felt like it was everywhere (not my imagination, it truly was), and everyone had God on their side, or at least liked to claim so. There is nothing in my life that I've experienced more negatively than toxic church politics, and we walked into that at the same time I was hitting middle school; unarguably the most miserable and hostile social environment in school history for most people, including me. I was tagged immediately with this "priest's-kid-who-skipped-a-grade" identity; it was quite literally how I'd get introduced, all in one breath. Davison was a community where most folks have lived since elementary school, I was the new one, and that's the identity I got saddled with. In the church, I was used against my Dad as a weapon. Dad's ministry has always been about working with broken churches, but Holly had been "broken" in that it was dying, not splitting. While Dad built that parish back up over the years it was a struggle, but not a hostile and venomous one. I felt loved, accepted, supported, sure of my place in my community. It's where my basically small-scale socialist community-centered world-view come from. I was cared for _abundantly_ by everyone in my world. It was the only community I'd really known; we'd moved to Holly from Virginia when I was only three. In Davison I was just struggling to navigate teenagehood, and trying to figure out who I was becoming, and paranoid as fuck over the combination of parishioners and school bullies watching my every move (It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you). All those "positive religious experiences" I had back then? They didn't happen at Davison. I didn't feel safe in the youth group at all; instead I found my safety and connection through the Happenings movement, through EYE, through Gordonwood, the Episcopal summer camp I'd been attending since I was 3. It was part of my escape and safety from that toxic church, too, both socially and spiritually. I strongly suspect it was a huge part of why I was so deeply invested in my spirituality in general. Related to trying to figure out when I 'lost my voice' and developed that phobia about singing? I've put it together, and it makes a world of sense, both when it happened, how deep that fear has been, and how long-lasting. It happened in Davison. I remember still feeling safe and taking joy in singing at Happenings and EYE and Gordonwood, but it was different back "home" in Davison. My summer camp and youth retreat experiences were how I got through, the only times I really felt like I had true freedom to be me, to shake off the stereotypes my peers tossed at me, to feel confident and whole. Part of why I'm such a full-throated supporter of summer camp experiences is that it was sometimes the only way I learned who I had the potential to be, how confident, how happy, how able to make friends. Despite a number of wonderful friendships with particular people (one of the paradoxes in my attempts to understand my own past and emotional history is how I can look back and see so many powerful and deeply trustworthy friendships, and also such unbelievable stress and isolation and gut-churning fear), I never felt safe or at home in Davison, and when time for college came along, I ran, and I basically stayed run. My first priority was getting out of the state, getting someplace I wasn't constantly afraid that my wilder tendencies would be used to hurt my Dad and family. Mom and Dad tried to convince me not to worry about that, but I couldn't not. I couldn't grow into myself without getting out. I never came back. Sure, progressively less frequent weekend visits here and there, but even those tapered off even more once Mom and Dad moved to Flint, and then Alabama (!!). The longest I was ever back home was freshman year christmas break, for 9 days. No other visit ever lasted more than 3, and they generally only happened a few times a year. Kenyon became my home; I'd fallen in love, I'd found my new safe place where I could commence with growing the fuck up and figuring out who I was. I think a good part of my deep passion for Kenyon is the way in which it fed my soul in that regard, the way it rescued me, never more personified than in the Peeps. Going back to visit Davison made my stomach churn, no matter how I cared about and trusted individual people. Grandma was up there for a number of additional years, and I was her primary family contact; the only one who'd managed to rebuild a healthy and safe dynamic with her after her abusive past with us (a whole different and huge story that spans many years), but as it probably sounds from that sentence, this was still difficult stuff to navigate, took a lot of emotional energy, and didn't make it all that likely that I'd generally see folks, especially pre-social-networking, when it was so much easier to just fall out of touch. I sacrificed friendships with some truly wonderful people just to escape, to not have to interact with the world where I'd been so miserable, so insecure.
As a result, getting in touch again with various folks over the years has been truly wonderful, pretty stressful, and deeply head-fucking. Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes. (gratuitous Whitman, another deep touchstone for me, but one I've written about thoroughly in the past)
This post was originally titled "Asynchronous". It was going to be about how losing contact at that point, while everyone else's life went on, and most stayed in much closer contact over the years with each other, creates this weird wall. Being totally out of the loop on decades of shared history means it's hard to even know where to begin, what I don't understand, what I don't know. Making ignorance-based missteps is a shitty experience, and I have more hot-buttons about that than most people (that's a whole 'nother long post of its own). It also means when I see people my brain is likely to shock back right into the middle of the emotions I had about my teenage years, while they've grown up together much more, and I'm quite sure aren't at this point having big meaningful conversations about high school crap. For me, though, Davison history effectively stopped in 1991. I understand it sociologically, but it's still weird as fuck to cope with, brings up old emotions I thought long-dead, reminds me of elements of who I was that I'm so proud not to be today, makes me insecure in ways I don't even want to admit are _possible_ in my brain at this point.
And even aside from all the Davison-specific fuckery, there's always something vulnerable about getting back in touch with people that I'm emotionally invested in in some way. They're some of the only people capable of hurting or rejecting me in deep ways anymore. No one else in my life gets that power; everything about me is pretty much out and clear from the get-go. I don't get emotionally invested in people's opinions until I already know they can cope with who I am. I am fortunate to have an immediate family that accepts and loves me as I am, and almost no extended family to worry about. Seeing childhood chosen family (the Corlesses, the Diehls, the Bonsacks, Godfather Tony, Aunt Terri) has been deeply odd over the years for that reason. They're some of the only people I don't already know, incontrovertably, are fine and dandy with who I am today. And I already love them. And that's scary. (also, it's generally gone just fine; my experiences getting to know Godfather Tony as an adult have been the most spectacular and meaningful in that regard). It's also one of the only times I ever have internal debates about outness in the way that many queer folk experience much more regularly. Because I am so out about everything in my life, because it's so default and habitual, I don't have to waste much emotional energy on it. I haven't really had to much in years and years. Folks who know me as I am today will generally agree that I'm a pretty damned confident and powerful personality, comfortable with myself on a deep level, more unconcerned about coming out about things at the drop of a hat than many folks struggle with. Those are some of my greatest strengths, and it can suddenly feel like they've just vanished when I end up back in these few interactions with people from my deep past.
Other ways Davison fucked me up: hiding my sexuality, hiding my relationships. -- that's such a big huge thing, and also tied into why I'm having moments of body consciousness now the likes of which I haven't experienced in years. It also really needs its own post.
So much going on in my head. I'm going to be shaking words out of my fingers for a while here, I expect. Not sure how much any of it will make coherent sense. Not sure how much it'll make me feel vulnerable, or relieved, or what-have-you.
I've been thinking a lot about distance, time, and history. About how it brings stuff up in my head I thought long-dead, or at least deeply, deeply dormant. Also pondering how different some elements of my life would be if we'd had widespread internet and social networking back in my teens.
FYI, the icon above is deeply personally meaningful to me. It was made for me by my brother,
jajy1979, and is a Google aerial shot of my childhood home in Holly, MI. Those dark spaces are all the little spring-fed ponds in "my" woods. It's one of the places in the world (like Kenyon and Roeper) that it's so important to me to show to Chad. Actually, that's kind of relevant to all the other stuff swirling in my head about what connections I did and didn't maintain over the years. I loved Holly. Davison was only about an hour away from it, but as Mom and Dad have noted many times in the past, the move, when I was 11, hit me extraordinarily hard. I resented it quite literally the entire time I lived in Davison, missed going to Roeper, where I'd been lucky enough to attend for 4th and 5th grade, and never truly connected with Davison on an emotional level as my "home". It didn't help that Dad was coping with the nastiest church dynamics he'd faced; a parish in the middle of a charismatic/mainstream split, where backstabbing felt like it was everywhere (not my imagination, it truly was), and everyone had God on their side, or at least liked to claim so. There is nothing in my life that I've experienced more negatively than toxic church politics, and we walked into that at the same time I was hitting middle school; unarguably the most miserable and hostile social environment in school history for most people, including me. I was tagged immediately with this "priest's-kid-who-skipped-a-grade" identity; it was quite literally how I'd get introduced, all in one breath. Davison was a community where most folks have lived since elementary school, I was the new one, and that's the identity I got saddled with. In the church, I was used against my Dad as a weapon. Dad's ministry has always been about working with broken churches, but Holly had been "broken" in that it was dying, not splitting. While Dad built that parish back up over the years it was a struggle, but not a hostile and venomous one. I felt loved, accepted, supported, sure of my place in my community. It's where my basically small-scale socialist community-centered world-view come from. I was cared for _abundantly_ by everyone in my world. It was the only community I'd really known; we'd moved to Holly from Virginia when I was only three. In Davison I was just struggling to navigate teenagehood, and trying to figure out who I was becoming, and paranoid as fuck over the combination of parishioners and school bullies watching my every move (It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you). All those "positive religious experiences" I had back then? They didn't happen at Davison. I didn't feel safe in the youth group at all; instead I found my safety and connection through the Happenings movement, through EYE, through Gordonwood, the Episcopal summer camp I'd been attending since I was 3. It was part of my escape and safety from that toxic church, too, both socially and spiritually. I strongly suspect it was a huge part of why I was so deeply invested in my spirituality in general. Related to trying to figure out when I 'lost my voice' and developed that phobia about singing? I've put it together, and it makes a world of sense, both when it happened, how deep that fear has been, and how long-lasting. It happened in Davison. I remember still feeling safe and taking joy in singing at Happenings and EYE and Gordonwood, but it was different back "home" in Davison. My summer camp and youth retreat experiences were how I got through, the only times I really felt like I had true freedom to be me, to shake off the stereotypes my peers tossed at me, to feel confident and whole. Part of why I'm such a full-throated supporter of summer camp experiences is that it was sometimes the only way I learned who I had the potential to be, how confident, how happy, how able to make friends. Despite a number of wonderful friendships with particular people (one of the paradoxes in my attempts to understand my own past and emotional history is how I can look back and see so many powerful and deeply trustworthy friendships, and also such unbelievable stress and isolation and gut-churning fear), I never felt safe or at home in Davison, and when time for college came along, I ran, and I basically stayed run. My first priority was getting out of the state, getting someplace I wasn't constantly afraid that my wilder tendencies would be used to hurt my Dad and family. Mom and Dad tried to convince me not to worry about that, but I couldn't not. I couldn't grow into myself without getting out. I never came back. Sure, progressively less frequent weekend visits here and there, but even those tapered off even more once Mom and Dad moved to Flint, and then Alabama (!!). The longest I was ever back home was freshman year christmas break, for 9 days. No other visit ever lasted more than 3, and they generally only happened a few times a year. Kenyon became my home; I'd fallen in love, I'd found my new safe place where I could commence with growing the fuck up and figuring out who I was. I think a good part of my deep passion for Kenyon is the way in which it fed my soul in that regard, the way it rescued me, never more personified than in the Peeps. Going back to visit Davison made my stomach churn, no matter how I cared about and trusted individual people. Grandma was up there for a number of additional years, and I was her primary family contact; the only one who'd managed to rebuild a healthy and safe dynamic with her after her abusive past with us (a whole different and huge story that spans many years), but as it probably sounds from that sentence, this was still difficult stuff to navigate, took a lot of emotional energy, and didn't make it all that likely that I'd generally see folks, especially pre-social-networking, when it was so much easier to just fall out of touch. I sacrificed friendships with some truly wonderful people just to escape, to not have to interact with the world where I'd been so miserable, so insecure.
As a result, getting in touch again with various folks over the years has been truly wonderful, pretty stressful, and deeply head-fucking. Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes. (gratuitous Whitman, another deep touchstone for me, but one I've written about thoroughly in the past)
This post was originally titled "Asynchronous". It was going to be about how losing contact at that point, while everyone else's life went on, and most stayed in much closer contact over the years with each other, creates this weird wall. Being totally out of the loop on decades of shared history means it's hard to even know where to begin, what I don't understand, what I don't know. Making ignorance-based missteps is a shitty experience, and I have more hot-buttons about that than most people (that's a whole 'nother long post of its own). It also means when I see people my brain is likely to shock back right into the middle of the emotions I had about my teenage years, while they've grown up together much more, and I'm quite sure aren't at this point having big meaningful conversations about high school crap. For me, though, Davison history effectively stopped in 1991. I understand it sociologically, but it's still weird as fuck to cope with, brings up old emotions I thought long-dead, reminds me of elements of who I was that I'm so proud not to be today, makes me insecure in ways I don't even want to admit are _possible_ in my brain at this point.
And even aside from all the Davison-specific fuckery, there's always something vulnerable about getting back in touch with people that I'm emotionally invested in in some way. They're some of the only people capable of hurting or rejecting me in deep ways anymore. No one else in my life gets that power; everything about me is pretty much out and clear from the get-go. I don't get emotionally invested in people's opinions until I already know they can cope with who I am. I am fortunate to have an immediate family that accepts and loves me as I am, and almost no extended family to worry about. Seeing childhood chosen family (the Corlesses, the Diehls, the Bonsacks, Godfather Tony, Aunt Terri) has been deeply odd over the years for that reason. They're some of the only people I don't already know, incontrovertably, are fine and dandy with who I am today. And I already love them. And that's scary. (also, it's generally gone just fine; my experiences getting to know Godfather Tony as an adult have been the most spectacular and meaningful in that regard). It's also one of the only times I ever have internal debates about outness in the way that many queer folk experience much more regularly. Because I am so out about everything in my life, because it's so default and habitual, I don't have to waste much emotional energy on it. I haven't really had to much in years and years. Folks who know me as I am today will generally agree that I'm a pretty damned confident and powerful personality, comfortable with myself on a deep level, more unconcerned about coming out about things at the drop of a hat than many folks struggle with. Those are some of my greatest strengths, and it can suddenly feel like they've just vanished when I end up back in these few interactions with people from my deep past.
Other ways Davison fucked me up: hiding my sexuality, hiding my relationships. -- that's such a big huge thing, and also tied into why I'm having moments of body consciousness now the likes of which I haven't experienced in years. It also really needs its own post.
Pic of a bug on FB, and an ensuing conversation about tattoo history
>2:1
Just talking to chad about life philosophies as they relate to Kidlet. This is my basic shorthand for one of my practical approaches to both expressing my philosophy and having a generally happier and more joy-filled life; try to give at least twice as much compliment as critique (or in any given situation generally try to be at least two times as likely to compliment than to critique)
Damn do I love me some Olympic women's weightlifting.
Ah, fuck-a-duck. Just overslept through my first appt today.
*sigh* now I'm freaked about going back to bed and risking sleeping through my gp appt too, even though it's not til 12:35. Insomnia is most annoying in its absence - once I need to be awake is often right when the fatigue catches up.
Baby Grasshopper!
Amusing, but I have to quibble with the implication that the Doctor wasn't present and acknowledged; there was a distinct TARDIS sound during one of the musical interludes. I listened twice to make sure.
Poll: Which Doctor Who Villain Is Mitt?
Book sale AT my doctor's office? Dirty pool! Sneak peek at the goodies! (Fuzzy toe socks for me, all else for kidlet including light up saber and light up magnifying glass!)
Home from the doctor. Love my GP so much. She's totally awesome. Also had a number of really enjoyable interactions with random strangers on the trip home, including getting to share some of Kidlet's new books with a couple kids bored at the bus stop with their mom. Naptime now. So tired.
In terms of things I've done this week that I might not've if I weren't in this mood state:
1. Send the best apology I could to a friend I wronged repeatedly a long time ago. Hard to do, still kind of hard to have done, absolutely no regrets -- it was long overdue.
2. Told another friend something revealing about how he had influenced me. A touch nerve-wracking, but glad I did it.
3. Told a casual friend how glad I was that he existed. Not even the teeniest little regret.
4. Because I've been on OKC more often, made some unexpected and potentially interesting contacts*, including reconnecting with a sexy long-distance friend who is apparently now living substantially less long-distance, and having an excellent conversation with a local couple who may be awesome new friends in the making. We're currently trading sex ed geekery, which means I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. Nothing heading in even casual "new partner" directions at the moment, but new interactions with people are fun, so I'm all psyched.
5. Had a bunch of positive interactions with random folks on the street yesterday, including sharing books with kids and their mom at the bus stop, going out of the way to leave compliments with the manager about my excellent lunch server and hostess, had pleasant casual conversations with probably a half a dozen other folks while I was out and about. I enjoy being chatty and friendly. Cool stuff in my life has happened as a result. Therefore, I like when I'm in a state where I'm more likely to interact with the world, because it's just generally more chances for nifty experience and connection.
*usually the case that I'm more likely to at least read messages there and reply to some of then when I'm feeling more social and interactive, unsurprisingly -- this, of course, means I suddenly show as having recently logged in, and more people therefore message me. It creates and odd sort of progressive and cumulative effect that can get overwhelming quickly, but it can also be fun and interesting and casually flirty.
Downside of mania? Still haven't fucking slept. Argh. Maybe now that I've shaken most of the words out of my fingers I'll finally be able to.
>2:1
Just talking to chad about life philosophies as they relate to Kidlet. This is my basic shorthand for one of my practical approaches to both expressing my philosophy and having a generally happier and more joy-filled life; try to give at least twice as much compliment as critique (or in any given situation generally try to be at least two times as likely to compliment than to critique)
Damn do I love me some Olympic women's weightlifting.
Ah, fuck-a-duck. Just overslept through my first appt today.
*sigh* now I'm freaked about going back to bed and risking sleeping through my gp appt too, even though it's not til 12:35. Insomnia is most annoying in its absence - once I need to be awake is often right when the fatigue catches up.
Baby Grasshopper!
Amusing, but I have to quibble with the implication that the Doctor wasn't present and acknowledged; there was a distinct TARDIS sound during one of the musical interludes. I listened twice to make sure.
Poll: Which Doctor Who Villain Is Mitt?
Book sale AT my doctor's office? Dirty pool! Sneak peek at the goodies! (Fuzzy toe socks for me, all else for kidlet including light up saber and light up magnifying glass!)
Home from the doctor. Love my GP so much. She's totally awesome. Also had a number of really enjoyable interactions with random strangers on the trip home, including getting to share some of Kidlet's new books with a couple kids bored at the bus stop with their mom. Naptime now. So tired.
In terms of things I've done this week that I might not've if I weren't in this mood state:
1. Send the best apology I could to a friend I wronged repeatedly a long time ago. Hard to do, still kind of hard to have done, absolutely no regrets -- it was long overdue.
2. Told another friend something revealing about how he had influenced me. A touch nerve-wracking, but glad I did it.
3. Told a casual friend how glad I was that he existed. Not even the teeniest little regret.
4. Because I've been on OKC more often, made some unexpected and potentially interesting contacts*, including reconnecting with a sexy long-distance friend who is apparently now living substantially less long-distance, and having an excellent conversation with a local couple who may be awesome new friends in the making. We're currently trading sex ed geekery, which means I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. Nothing heading in even casual "new partner" directions at the moment, but new interactions with people are fun, so I'm all psyched.
5. Had a bunch of positive interactions with random folks on the street yesterday, including sharing books with kids and their mom at the bus stop, going out of the way to leave compliments with the manager about my excellent lunch server and hostess, had pleasant casual conversations with probably a half a dozen other folks while I was out and about. I enjoy being chatty and friendly. Cool stuff in my life has happened as a result. Therefore, I like when I'm in a state where I'm more likely to interact with the world, because it's just generally more chances for nifty experience and connection.
*usually the case that I'm more likely to at least read messages there and reply to some of then when I'm feeling more social and interactive, unsurprisingly -- this, of course, means I suddenly show as having recently logged in, and more people therefore message me. It creates and odd sort of progressive and cumulative effect that can get overwhelming quickly, but it can also be fun and interesting and casually flirty.
Downside of mania? Still haven't fucking slept. Argh. Maybe now that I've shaken most of the words out of my fingers I'll finally be able to.
Magnificent Weekend!
Mar. 18th, 2012 07:08 pmThis was an extra-uber-special date weekend. Along with it being a Chad weekend, my very long-term sweetie Katy arrived for a much-anticipated visit.
And this is where it gets hard to explain just how overwhelmingly lucky I am. It was a mellow, relaxed, silly, sexy, fun weekend with them and the household. Good conversation, Apples-to-Apples, West Side Market shopping and much nomming of excellent and tasty food, movies (introduced Chad to Brazil!), and much cuddling and napping (the only minor downside to the weekend was my own frustration with my fatigue levels).
I'm just regularly amazed at the awesomeness of the people in my life, and the dynamics between them. It is, essentially, my youthful pipedreams come true. I have my big communal household with critters and garden and wonderful creative/queer/kinky/poly/hippy friends. I have activism work I find rewarding. I have amazing partners and really incredibly low-drama and fulfilling relationships. And I've been rather shocked by finding a primary partner this past year who is capable of embracing all this about me. I have a community and home and work environment where I can basically just be myself. I have accepting biofamily and friends who celebrate all this goodness with me.
I'm 37. I've had these sorts of dreams for my life since I was a teenager. At many points along the way I despairingly thought that maybe it was all a pipedream, and I should just "be sensible". I especially thought that while learning all my painful poly and/or shared housing lessons over the years! But you know what? I did learn lessons. I did get better at communicating, and interacting healthily, and all that good stuff. I grew up, and my dreams didn't really change, they just matured along with me. And often I look around at my life and have a bit of trouble believing in it. Things aren't perfect -- there are always financial and health and other life stresses -- but they're damned good. Things that made me smile this weekend: two of the most important people in my life getting to know each other better, my partner and my housemate cuddled up on the couch together, late-night post-fun nom-fest, silliness and giggling and pictures and love. And communication -- so much goodness in the communication department. It amazes me how easily both Katy and I and Chad and I accomplish that these days.
Chad and I dropped Katy off at RTA for her trip home, and then he dropped me off at work on his way home. I'm here, I'm exhausted, but life is good. I feel like everything wonderful about my relationships with Katy and Chad has been abundantly reaffirmed. Also, special appreciation to my housemate G, who's a marvelous part of my life! And for Katy's fabulous wife, Miss T, who added her own special flavor completely unawares!
Well, I already posted this, but apparently I still have more to say. The way Chad and I fit together just continues to blow me away. It's no easy thing to start seriously dating someone who already have several long-term relationships. Even with the best of intent, it can be a hard road to walk to find one's place in the dynamic. His ability to accept not just me but also my existing partners regularly amazes me. Seeing them welcome him into my life has been a joy, as well. And it really does feel like the solidity between him and me is so based in mutual respect for each other's needs and autonomy. I never feel like he's trying to claim me, or possess me, or turn me into anything except who I truly am. As hypersensitive as I am about such things, he's doing a near-miraculous job. I love you, Chad!
And this is where it gets hard to explain just how overwhelmingly lucky I am. It was a mellow, relaxed, silly, sexy, fun weekend with them and the household. Good conversation, Apples-to-Apples, West Side Market shopping and much nomming of excellent and tasty food, movies (introduced Chad to Brazil!), and much cuddling and napping (the only minor downside to the weekend was my own frustration with my fatigue levels).
I'm just regularly amazed at the awesomeness of the people in my life, and the dynamics between them. It is, essentially, my youthful pipedreams come true. I have my big communal household with critters and garden and wonderful creative/queer/kinky/poly/hippy friends. I have activism work I find rewarding. I have amazing partners and really incredibly low-drama and fulfilling relationships. And I've been rather shocked by finding a primary partner this past year who is capable of embracing all this about me. I have a community and home and work environment where I can basically just be myself. I have accepting biofamily and friends who celebrate all this goodness with me.
I'm 37. I've had these sorts of dreams for my life since I was a teenager. At many points along the way I despairingly thought that maybe it was all a pipedream, and I should just "be sensible". I especially thought that while learning all my painful poly and/or shared housing lessons over the years! But you know what? I did learn lessons. I did get better at communicating, and interacting healthily, and all that good stuff. I grew up, and my dreams didn't really change, they just matured along with me. And often I look around at my life and have a bit of trouble believing in it. Things aren't perfect -- there are always financial and health and other life stresses -- but they're damned good. Things that made me smile this weekend: two of the most important people in my life getting to know each other better, my partner and my housemate cuddled up on the couch together, late-night post-fun nom-fest, silliness and giggling and pictures and love. And communication -- so much goodness in the communication department. It amazes me how easily both Katy and I and Chad and I accomplish that these days.
Chad and I dropped Katy off at RTA for her trip home, and then he dropped me off at work on his way home. I'm here, I'm exhausted, but life is good. I feel like everything wonderful about my relationships with Katy and Chad has been abundantly reaffirmed. Also, special appreciation to my housemate G, who's a marvelous part of my life! And for Katy's fabulous wife, Miss T, who added her own special flavor completely unawares!
Well, I already posted this, but apparently I still have more to say. The way Chad and I fit together just continues to blow me away. It's no easy thing to start seriously dating someone who already have several long-term relationships. Even with the best of intent, it can be a hard road to walk to find one's place in the dynamic. His ability to accept not just me but also my existing partners regularly amazes me. Seeing them welcome him into my life has been a joy, as well. And it really does feel like the solidity between him and me is so based in mutual respect for each other's needs and autonomy. I never feel like he's trying to claim me, or possess me, or turn me into anything except who I truly am. As hypersensitive as I am about such things, he's doing a near-miraculous job. I love you, Chad!
Life and weirdness
Feb. 28th, 2012 06:02 pmReally feeling worn out and exhausted today. On the positive side, no headache, and relatively minimal body aches. I took one of my small supply of provigil, so hopefully I'll be in better shape in a bit.
And a few hours later I'm feeling better, but weirder. It's rare I think of my most serious ex; it's been more than a decade, I made what efforts I could to rebuild or at least make comfortable peace since we still share a social group (see next link, actually) and live in the same city. No luck. So despite historically having a ridiculously hard time letting go of friends (that's the part that messes with me when parting is on bad terms, even when it's a romantic/sexual relationship), I've finally been pretty clear that it's something I can just drop, and be happy that he's happy with his life and I'm happy with mine, and hope that we navigate reunions ok. For him to come up today, of all days, is extra weird, since it's his birthday. So, anyway, blarg. Still, can't really say life sucks; I've screwed up plenty in my life, and only know of two people who actively and intensely want to avoid me (Cheers, Josh and Mike, and I hope life treats you well). And the third I feared was in that camp is back in my life, so yay for that!
HuffingtonPost: The Best Colleges For Students Slow At Making Friends -- #5, Kenyon College. To say I was "socially unskilled" when I got to Kenyon would be generous. Folks actively took me in and tolerated all my growing pains and helped nudge me in less obnoxious directions (it's a lot of why I still tend to "adopt" folks who need a bit of safe space). Given that I'm still in loose contact with several dozen friends from there, and still very close to at least 10 or so (almost 20 years after the fact), I'd say they've got my vote. And every time I visit (every few years), I'm amazed at how many of the staff and employees still remember me by name despite the years (influenced by the fact that I worked there as well, but still...) And now I'm all nostalgic and verklempt and shit ;) (I have two "nostalgia" icons -- the aerial view of my childhood home, woods, and ponds, and the above icon of the turtle wall painting in the Peep Lounge at Kenyon)
And I think I'm cutting out the rest of the linketies and making them a separate post, since this one got more personal than usual.
And a few hours later I'm feeling better, but weirder. It's rare I think of my most serious ex; it's been more than a decade, I made what efforts I could to rebuild or at least make comfortable peace since we still share a social group (see next link, actually) and live in the same city. No luck. So despite historically having a ridiculously hard time letting go of friends (that's the part that messes with me when parting is on bad terms, even when it's a romantic/sexual relationship), I've finally been pretty clear that it's something I can just drop, and be happy that he's happy with his life and I'm happy with mine, and hope that we navigate reunions ok. For him to come up today, of all days, is extra weird, since it's his birthday. So, anyway, blarg. Still, can't really say life sucks; I've screwed up plenty in my life, and only know of two people who actively and intensely want to avoid me (Cheers, Josh and Mike, and I hope life treats you well). And the third I feared was in that camp is back in my life, so yay for that!
HuffingtonPost: The Best Colleges For Students Slow At Making Friends -- #5, Kenyon College. To say I was "socially unskilled" when I got to Kenyon would be generous. Folks actively took me in and tolerated all my growing pains and helped nudge me in less obnoxious directions (it's a lot of why I still tend to "adopt" folks who need a bit of safe space). Given that I'm still in loose contact with several dozen friends from there, and still very close to at least 10 or so (almost 20 years after the fact), I'd say they've got my vote. And every time I visit (every few years), I'm amazed at how many of the staff and employees still remember me by name despite the years (influenced by the fact that I worked there as well, but still...) And now I'm all nostalgic and verklempt and shit ;) (I have two "nostalgia" icons -- the aerial view of my childhood home, woods, and ponds, and the above icon of the turtle wall painting in the Peep Lounge at Kenyon)
And I think I'm cutting out the rest of the linketies and making them a separate post, since this one got more personal than usual.
Just one more (why I write)
Sep. 13th, 2011 11:00 amA good friend asked me the excellent and deceptively complicated question of why I write.
I only had a few minutes before I had to walk out the door, and ran out of time before I'd run out of reasons. Wanted to put it all down here in a more expanded and complete form.
( this might get -- you guessed it -- long )
I only had a few minutes before I had to walk out the door, and ran out of time before I'd run out of reasons. Wanted to put it all down here in a more expanded and complete form.
( this might get -- you guessed it -- long )
Yay! It sounds like I'll get to see forestfire over Thanksgiving! It's been way too long, because I just haven't had resources and time for travel to see her in NY.
Also, one of my best friends is looking at going to med school in order to become an abortion provider. I'm so excited and proud for her!
And I got a wonderful message from my best friend from college, and along with being full of warm fuzzy goodness, it also sounds like she may be up here in 2012 for a conference, and we might get some time to hang out for the first time in years.
Otherwise not much going on; I pretty much collapsed when I got home last night (although I did fit in time for some excellent burgers that Caleb made), and slept 'til I needed to come in today (with a few rousts for doggy pee breaks). I'm still really tired, but I'm not sure if it's holdover effects from the sleep-dep Saturday or the weirdly heavy and oppressive weather at the moment. Either way, I'd really like to crawl under my desk and nap for a good long while.
Oh. Surprise. Just had my midyear review (rather belatedly). All good and happy. Yay! (not surprising; I adore my boss, and will happily bend over backward to help the department reflect well on him)
This weekend is clinic escorting with NL, and then we're going to the Stand Up for Planned Parenthood Rally. Reminder for anyone else interested:
Raise Your Hand Rally
Featuring Cecile Richards
September 17, 2011
1:30 pm – 3:00 pm
Cleveland Health Center
7997 Euclid Avenue
Cleveland, OH 44103
forestfire over Thanksgiving! It's been way too long, because I just haven't had resources and time for travel to see her in NY.Also, one of my best friends is looking at going to med school in order to become an abortion provider. I'm so excited and proud for her!
And I got a wonderful message from my best friend from college, and along with being full of warm fuzzy goodness, it also sounds like she may be up here in 2012 for a conference, and we might get some time to hang out for the first time in years.
Otherwise not much going on; I pretty much collapsed when I got home last night (although I did fit in time for some excellent burgers that Caleb made), and slept 'til I needed to come in today (with a few rousts for doggy pee breaks). I'm still really tired, but I'm not sure if it's holdover effects from the sleep-dep Saturday or the weirdly heavy and oppressive weather at the moment. Either way, I'd really like to crawl under my desk and nap for a good long while.
Oh. Surprise. Just had my midyear review (rather belatedly). All good and happy. Yay! (not surprising; I adore my boss, and will happily bend over backward to help the department reflect well on him)
This weekend is clinic escorting with NL, and then we're going to the Stand Up for Planned Parenthood Rally. Reminder for anyone else interested:
Raise Your Hand Rally
Featuring Cecile Richards
September 17, 2011
1:30 pm – 3:00 pm
Cleveland Health Center
7997 Euclid Avenue
Cleveland, OH 44103
Yeah, yeah. I know, you're sick of hearing about it. Just be glad you're not my poor housemates.
In reply to a question about whether falling hard for someone is a bad thing in my life because it could lead in too traditional directions:
( Read more... )
In reply to a question about whether falling hard for someone is a bad thing in my life because it could lead in too traditional directions:
( Read more... )
Would you like a phone call?
Dec. 14th, 2010 11:01 pmSo, I've been doing the whole life reorganization thing. Like I mentioned in the depression post, I'm not really thrilled about how much less I'm traveling, and by how much I'm losing touch with folks who don't live in my house. For some reason it's really easy for me to get out of the habit of calling people, and every few years I try to remedy that by getting back in the habit of setting aside some regular time to call folks and chat. So, I'm trying that again, although not making any ironclad promises about my followthrough. If you'd like a phone call at some point, I'm screening comments on this post (applies on LJ only -- don't leave phone numbers in Facebook comments, follow the link and leave them over here). Leave your number (and name, if odds are good I think of you more by your username than given name), and generally ok times to call. I rarely talk for more than 10 or 15 minutes, but it'd be nice to get back in better touch with folks. Unfortunately, this is continental US only, due to my cell plan.
It doesn't matter if we haven't talked in a decade, or if we've never spoken in person. If you feel like getting a call at some point, it's all good. Contrariwise, even if you're one of my best friends, it's fine if you don't like the phone and don't want to play, and I won't take that at all personally.
It doesn't matter if we haven't talked in a decade, or if we've never spoken in person. If you feel like getting a call at some point, it's all good. Contrariwise, even if you're one of my best friends, it's fine if you don't like the phone and don't want to play, and I won't take that at all personally.
Looking for cool clothes?
Sep. 1st, 2010 03:44 pmWay Cool Kid -- A friend and ex-roommate from years back is now making truly fantastic kids clothing, often with recycled and upcycled fabrics! He's just getting started, but it looks like great stuff so far, and Thom's beyond awesome, so I fully expect the rest to follow suit.
And as long as I'm talking about cool stuff my friends do, I should make my semi-annual mention of Cupcake and Cuddlebunny, Rachel's kick-ass size 14-28 custom vintage clothing shop.
And as long as I'm talking about cool stuff my friends do, I should make my semi-annual mention of Cupcake and Cuddlebunny, Rachel's kick-ass size 14-28 custom vintage clothing shop.
Life update
Aug. 4th, 2010 07:30 amIt's been a relatively trying few days around Villa Villekula. One of those "everything that can go wrong will" sort of times in a bunch of different ways, leading to a bunch of grumping and touchiness from all of us. Here's hoping we're mostly past the ridiculously bad luck we've been having on all fronts. On the positive side, I've finally gotten my laptop sorted and working again. Also on the positive side, our new rubber flooring works as we wanted, and blocks water getting to the basement exactly as hoped. On the negative side, we discovered this because we moved the hot tub back into the room and refilled it. And discovered at 3am that it had developed a leak. It's all drained again and we're working on identifying the source. If we're really damned lucky for once this week, it'll be an relatively easy fix, but after the last few days I'm not feeling like expecting "really damned lucky" on much of anything. Argh. Also, the weather's fucking with all of us, and the associated achies combined with all the crap of the last few days have gotten us downright snippy at each other on a level we very rarely reach (thankfully). The truck's going into the shop for engine evaluation on Thursday, we finally got the blood work done on Fatty Lumpkin and are awaiting results of that (expecting hyperthyroid, and hoping for it among the possible explanations for his weight loss, etc, since it's relatively easy to treat).
This weekend was bizarrely up and down for me. A bunch of good social stuff: Casey's party, which also involved seeing the east side folks I really dig, and getting hanging out time with Katy, a date with Katy Sunday morning, seeing my brother Matt before he headed down to AL again, seeing Nikki on her way through town. And right in the midst of all of it, two conversations totally unrelated to the socializing that both hit me the wrong way and left me more upset and touchier than I've been in a long time, a half-hour bathroom crying jag at about the worst possible time, and just generally feeling like my emotions have been yo-yoing all over the place. That was mostly Sunday and Monday, and I'm feeling more like myself now, thankfully. Yesterday was a migrainey and physically craptastic day, but my overall mood improved throughout, despite it being "the day nothing went right" to such an extent that we couldn't even conquer the sandwich-making process.
I'm teaching tonight, and hopefully hanging out with Casey and household afterwards, but otherwise planning to have a pretty slow-moving day with a lot of sleep, a lot of West Wing (I'm toward the end of Season 4 now), and maybe some more priming and painting. Once we get four or five of us around, we can flip the hot tub up and see about identifying the leak. Wish us luck on the results of that endeavor.
Oh, and speaking of teaching, I did have a really enjoyable conversation with Liv and Grafton yesterday. All three of us work in the patient-instructing program, and every so often we get to geeking about teaching approaches. It's invariably a learning experience, since it gives us a chance to compare how we're teaching various aspects, and pick up suggestions and tips from each other. And because each of us works solo with the students (Liv and I teaching gyn, Grafton teaching GU), it's not a feedback and fine-tuning that happens as much when we're actually at work, so I really value when we end up having those conversations outside of work. Oh, and Casey just got a job working on getting the Sim Center's GTA/GUTA program up and running, so now we get to geek with her about this stuff, too. I'm so psyched she's going to be handling that. We don't know if the two programs will end up merging eventually, and I feel much more comfortable about that possibility with someone I trust as much as Casey in an oversight position.
I really do love my social circle. I was reminded of that by the party at Casey's and the conversations with Nikki and the household and Katy. I love how "silly and fucked up" can integrate so well with discussion of politics and sociology and feminism and health care and such. I suck at small talk. I only really come alive in conversations when I'm passionate about the topics at hand, and I love having so many people in my life who also value those kinds of discussions.
Also, funny Coco story. It's not one of our Coco weeks, so I tend to go out and see her about once a day when I hear her in the yard next door. Usually I just stick my fingers through the fence and she pressed up against it for scritches, but I decided that I'd walk around and come sit on Christina's porch so I could hang out with Coco more easily. Damn, did that confuse the little fluffhead! She just didn't know what to do with me being on the wrong side of the fence. She came running up, bounced backward again, lather, rinse, repeat, went to get Christina, came excitedly bouncing back _again_, still staying a foot or so away from me because it was confusing her so much that I was on the wrong side of the fence. She finally climbed up on me after I moved down from sitting on the step to sitting on the ground (she gets really freaked out by people being taller than her, which makes life as a 10-inch-tall dog a bit tricky). It was all very silly and giggleworthy.
So, yeah. That's where things are at the moment. A run of bad luck and craptasticness, but life doesn't suck.
This weekend was bizarrely up and down for me. A bunch of good social stuff: Casey's party, which also involved seeing the east side folks I really dig, and getting hanging out time with Katy, a date with Katy Sunday morning, seeing my brother Matt before he headed down to AL again, seeing Nikki on her way through town. And right in the midst of all of it, two conversations totally unrelated to the socializing that both hit me the wrong way and left me more upset and touchier than I've been in a long time, a half-hour bathroom crying jag at about the worst possible time, and just generally feeling like my emotions have been yo-yoing all over the place. That was mostly Sunday and Monday, and I'm feeling more like myself now, thankfully. Yesterday was a migrainey and physically craptastic day, but my overall mood improved throughout, despite it being "the day nothing went right" to such an extent that we couldn't even conquer the sandwich-making process.
I'm teaching tonight, and hopefully hanging out with Casey and household afterwards, but otherwise planning to have a pretty slow-moving day with a lot of sleep, a lot of West Wing (I'm toward the end of Season 4 now), and maybe some more priming and painting. Once we get four or five of us around, we can flip the hot tub up and see about identifying the leak. Wish us luck on the results of that endeavor.
Oh, and speaking of teaching, I did have a really enjoyable conversation with Liv and Grafton yesterday. All three of us work in the patient-instructing program, and every so often we get to geeking about teaching approaches. It's invariably a learning experience, since it gives us a chance to compare how we're teaching various aspects, and pick up suggestions and tips from each other. And because each of us works solo with the students (Liv and I teaching gyn, Grafton teaching GU), it's not a feedback and fine-tuning that happens as much when we're actually at work, so I really value when we end up having those conversations outside of work. Oh, and Casey just got a job working on getting the Sim Center's GTA/GUTA program up and running, so now we get to geek with her about this stuff, too. I'm so psyched she's going to be handling that. We don't know if the two programs will end up merging eventually, and I feel much more comfortable about that possibility with someone I trust as much as Casey in an oversight position.
I really do love my social circle. I was reminded of that by the party at Casey's and the conversations with Nikki and the household and Katy. I love how "silly and fucked up" can integrate so well with discussion of politics and sociology and feminism and health care and such. I suck at small talk. I only really come alive in conversations when I'm passionate about the topics at hand, and I love having so many people in my life who also value those kinds of discussions.
Also, funny Coco story. It's not one of our Coco weeks, so I tend to go out and see her about once a day when I hear her in the yard next door. Usually I just stick my fingers through the fence and she pressed up against it for scritches, but I decided that I'd walk around and come sit on Christina's porch so I could hang out with Coco more easily. Damn, did that confuse the little fluffhead! She just didn't know what to do with me being on the wrong side of the fence. She came running up, bounced backward again, lather, rinse, repeat, went to get Christina, came excitedly bouncing back _again_, still staying a foot or so away from me because it was confusing her so much that I was on the wrong side of the fence. She finally climbed up on me after I moved down from sitting on the step to sitting on the ground (she gets really freaked out by people being taller than her, which makes life as a 10-inch-tall dog a bit tricky). It was all very silly and giggleworthy.
So, yeah. That's where things are at the moment. A run of bad luck and craptasticness, but life doesn't suck.
Blarg, but with a dose of Yay.
Jul. 31st, 2010 04:04 pmSo, my laptop is having malware problems and is pretty well hosed at the moment. Since it's one of the most frequently shared in the household, this also affects some of the other folks in the household, so hopefully we'll get it sorted out relatively quickly. Thankfully, everything important is backed up on our server. And this is also good timing for taking it into the shop to get the overheating problem looked at, since I'm getting toward the end of the warranty.
I've been kind of simultaneously groggy and twitchy the last few days. Still running a bit manic, but flaring and headachy and sore physically. At least this morning I finally got some stuff accomplished, and prepped another section of living room for painting, as well as getting another layer of primer on various stuff around the house. Oh, and Liv and I got the new screen door hung in the back, although we need to go back and shim under one side of the frame to deal with a gap. And Grafton brought home wood to work on extra shelving in the dead space above Bec and Jer's back stairs, which will help with our perpetual storage issues.
One of the biggest frustrations, and one of my main reasons for wanting to get as much painting done as possible, is the current living room situation. Our main room in the front house is a result of Previous Owner having opened several rooms up into each other (and installing i-beams in the ceiling for alternate support -- yay for that!). One section is the "hot tub room", really a three-sided space that'll we'll at least partially wall back off. One half of the main room is the "living room" that's our more heavily used social and living space. The other half, butting up against the back of the couches, is the tool and work area. When the hot tub got moved so we could work on that space, the tool area required gymnastics to access, because the hot tub had to move right up against it. When we're trying to paint the walls, everything has to be shifted yet again. Someday I have dreams of having all the tools and supplies organized again, but at the moment trying to find things is half the project battle each time. SO frustrating.
On the general Yay side of things, tonight is a Casey party, and tomorrow is a surprise "get to see Katy" morning (just heard from her last night, and she's in town on her way north). We're also getting a room full of red shag carpet tomorrow (reclaimed when a friend's childhood bedroom was redone, and intended for the basement listening room), and then I'm seeing my friend Nikki after work; she moved a few years ago, and is back in town briefly.
And I think that's most of everything important.
Oh, and in my manic burst I also organized my icons (some are extremely not worksafe for anyone close enough to identify them) in a whole new pattern, and loaded a bunch more. Yes, I actually had to struggle to keep it under 276. Oh, the humanity! I'm really rather fascinated by the use of icons as another layer of communication in LJ (and I'm sure in other places with easy access to multiple icons/avatars). It's especially noticeable in politics and fandom communities; I often see icons used as a way of contextualizing the text message, and sometimes as an entire reply in and of itself. I certainly use them both ways myself at times. Also, although I generally only create my own icons out of desperation, since I'm not very artistically skilled at all, I am deeply impressed with the creativity evidenced in this weird little mini-artform. Oh, speaking of which, if you happen to glance at my icons and see any that are misattributed or unattributed, and if you can provide the correct attribution, I'd be deeply grateful. I lost the attributions on a whole folder of them, so there are a bunch missing now.
I've been kind of simultaneously groggy and twitchy the last few days. Still running a bit manic, but flaring and headachy and sore physically. At least this morning I finally got some stuff accomplished, and prepped another section of living room for painting, as well as getting another layer of primer on various stuff around the house. Oh, and Liv and I got the new screen door hung in the back, although we need to go back and shim under one side of the frame to deal with a gap. And Grafton brought home wood to work on extra shelving in the dead space above Bec and Jer's back stairs, which will help with our perpetual storage issues.
One of the biggest frustrations, and one of my main reasons for wanting to get as much painting done as possible, is the current living room situation. Our main room in the front house is a result of Previous Owner having opened several rooms up into each other (and installing i-beams in the ceiling for alternate support -- yay for that!). One section is the "hot tub room", really a three-sided space that'll we'll at least partially wall back off. One half of the main room is the "living room" that's our more heavily used social and living space. The other half, butting up against the back of the couches, is the tool and work area. When the hot tub got moved so we could work on that space, the tool area required gymnastics to access, because the hot tub had to move right up against it. When we're trying to paint the walls, everything has to be shifted yet again. Someday I have dreams of having all the tools and supplies organized again, but at the moment trying to find things is half the project battle each time. SO frustrating.
On the general Yay side of things, tonight is a Casey party, and tomorrow is a surprise "get to see Katy" morning (just heard from her last night, and she's in town on her way north). We're also getting a room full of red shag carpet tomorrow (reclaimed when a friend's childhood bedroom was redone, and intended for the basement listening room), and then I'm seeing my friend Nikki after work; she moved a few years ago, and is back in town briefly.
And I think that's most of everything important.
Oh, and in my manic burst I also organized my icons (some are extremely not worksafe for anyone close enough to identify them) in a whole new pattern, and loaded a bunch more. Yes, I actually had to struggle to keep it under 276. Oh, the humanity! I'm really rather fascinated by the use of icons as another layer of communication in LJ (and I'm sure in other places with easy access to multiple icons/avatars). It's especially noticeable in politics and fandom communities; I often see icons used as a way of contextualizing the text message, and sometimes as an entire reply in and of itself. I certainly use them both ways myself at times. Also, although I generally only create my own icons out of desperation, since I'm not very artistically skilled at all, I am deeply impressed with the creativity evidenced in this weird little mini-artform. Oh, speaking of which, if you happen to glance at my icons and see any that are misattributed or unattributed, and if you can provide the correct attribution, I'd be deeply grateful. I lost the attributions on a whole folder of them, so there are a bunch missing now.
The second, equally unsatisfactory option is that you take the issue to your own journal. Then you can be accused, with some justification, of retreating to a space that is even more supportive to privileged people and rejecting of oppressed people than the general public world is. On top of that your journal is full of your friends who will automatically give you lots of benefit of the doubt and dismiss the concerns of those who argued with you. Not necessarily because they care more about privileged people than oppressed people, but because they care more about you personally than about random strangers.
Incidentally, this ties in some with what this has gotten me considering in terms of my own psychology around conflict, and how I handle it. One of the things I know about myself is that once I get myself into a defensive mindset - once I commit to something dumb - I have an extraordinarily hard time compromising, apologizing, changing my mind. If I say the sky is green at some point in my argument, I'm going to end up defending it to my last breath, feeling like an idiot the whole time. The best way I've found around that in my personal life (and I'm sure as shit far from perfect about it) is to STOP, and reframe as "us against the problem" instead of "you against me". If I have to win or lose, I'll fight to win, cut off my nose to spite my face, display every worst element of my own monumental stubbornness. If I can manage to reframe, the problem becomes the puzzle and we are in common purpose to solve it. (In interpersonal relationships, this means I do a lot of letter-writing)
A large part of sorting out issues in front of the people I care about and respect is that it encourages me to be my best self. It makes me feel more honor-bound to argue devil's advocate against myself if I see the need, and that process is often very helpful to me (and was here).
I think this is becoming a top-level post, so I think I'll move it there... Thank you for the thought-provoking.
This also ties in very closely with my approach to life and activism. I think it takes a lot of different personality styles and approaches to make the world go 'round. I think we need people who are much better at being confrontational than I am, who are much more in touch with their own anger. I'm not all that interested in making judgments on other people's choices in that regard, except in monumentally egregious cases. I am interested in finding the best way to make use of my particular psychology to the benefit of those issues I consider important. For me, that seems to be to function as much as possible as a bridge and an educator. To plant seeds rather than demand response. To explain my beliefs rather than requiring others to defend theirs to me. To try to meet people where they are, and as who they are, and find where we can connect, and try to expand understanding from there. To be honestly myself in ways that challenge people in little ways on a regular basis. To share information and perspectives people may not otherwise have been aware of. To be a safe space for others to ask questions and express themselves. I have reason to believe that this approach has generally served me well in my goals in the long run, and well as dovetailing with my nature as a social and multi-communal sort of person.
It doesn't mean I shouldn't get better at handling my own anger. I have an extraordinarily powerful physiological response to it; the people who have been in interpersonal fights with me know the sight of me flaming-faced, shaking, tearing up, storming about. I dislike and distrust the feel of that adrenaline surge controlling me, and I generally have to burn it off before I can get anywhere productive again. Anxiety or anger seem to be my emotional responses to conflict (except in cases of people fundamentally hostile to me, like the antis at the clinics -- in those cases, winning is not letting the bullying elicit a reaction beyond laughter, and I'm damned good at that), and while I don't like either, I'll take anxiety over anger most days; it clouds my judgment less, and pulls me toward thinking before acting instead of vice versa. The good thing about the anxiety is that it does give me a good deal of impetus to try to resolve the issue at hand, at least to my own satisfaction inside my own head. I can't get my heartrate back down until I do. In the two days of this particular explosion, it probably hasn't been fully off my mind for more than 15 minutes or so at a time, my stomach's been in knots, and my heart has been racing (insomnia ahoy). That is emphatically not a request for sympathy or a "poor me", I'm simply talking about physiological responses, and ones with which I'm well-familiar. It's informed by what I've learned about interacting with my own physiology in regards to the bipolar and the fibromyalgia, definitely. It's a particular way of thinking about myself and my states of mind and body as objectively as I can.
Oh, one other point worth talking about -- finding the balance between one of my strengths being my openness and willingness to talk about things, and one of my weaknesses being my tendency to go off on tangents, ramble, and take over conversations. It's a work in progress, to say the least. It's part of what I find valuable about having a journal -- a place that by definition is my space to ramble to my heart's content, that isn't encroaching on anyone else's space unless they choose. It's a good release valve so I'm less likely to do so in less appropriate circumstances (obviously doesn't always work!)
Well, I've rambled more than enough. It's my weekend, and I'm currently ignoring a particularly entertaining Tom Baker Doctor Who, and have to get ready for patient-instructing in a few hours. It's still abyssmally hot here, and we've got an extra dog next door temporarily (very sweet story) that's adding a good deal of chaos to our mutual yards and dog dynamics. Casey's coming over tonight, and I'm really looking forward to her feminist sociologist's perspective on all this, in between screaming at So You Think You Can Dance and getting fucked up. I still have some other thoughts about my long-term approaches to politics that I want to move to top-level posts, but I may wait a day or two to do that, and I may be slow at replying to comments here as well, since I don't normally spend much time online when I'm at home.
Edit to add: One final note that popped to mind; being over-reactive to being misunderstood. I know I've written about that before, so this is just a mental note to myself.
Incidentally, this ties in some with what this has gotten me considering in terms of my own psychology around conflict, and how I handle it. One of the things I know about myself is that once I get myself into a defensive mindset - once I commit to something dumb - I have an extraordinarily hard time compromising, apologizing, changing my mind. If I say the sky is green at some point in my argument, I'm going to end up defending it to my last breath, feeling like an idiot the whole time. The best way I've found around that in my personal life (and I'm sure as shit far from perfect about it) is to STOP, and reframe as "us against the problem" instead of "you against me". If I have to win or lose, I'll fight to win, cut off my nose to spite my face, display every worst element of my own monumental stubbornness. If I can manage to reframe, the problem becomes the puzzle and we are in common purpose to solve it. (In interpersonal relationships, this means I do a lot of letter-writing)
A large part of sorting out issues in front of the people I care about and respect is that it encourages me to be my best self. It makes me feel more honor-bound to argue devil's advocate against myself if I see the need, and that process is often very helpful to me (and was here).
I think this is becoming a top-level post, so I think I'll move it there... Thank you for the thought-provoking.
This also ties in very closely with my approach to life and activism. I think it takes a lot of different personality styles and approaches to make the world go 'round. I think we need people who are much better at being confrontational than I am, who are much more in touch with their own anger. I'm not all that interested in making judgments on other people's choices in that regard, except in monumentally egregious cases. I am interested in finding the best way to make use of my particular psychology to the benefit of those issues I consider important. For me, that seems to be to function as much as possible as a bridge and an educator. To plant seeds rather than demand response. To explain my beliefs rather than requiring others to defend theirs to me. To try to meet people where they are, and as who they are, and find where we can connect, and try to expand understanding from there. To be honestly myself in ways that challenge people in little ways on a regular basis. To share information and perspectives people may not otherwise have been aware of. To be a safe space for others to ask questions and express themselves. I have reason to believe that this approach has generally served me well in my goals in the long run, and well as dovetailing with my nature as a social and multi-communal sort of person.
It doesn't mean I shouldn't get better at handling my own anger. I have an extraordinarily powerful physiological response to it; the people who have been in interpersonal fights with me know the sight of me flaming-faced, shaking, tearing up, storming about. I dislike and distrust the feel of that adrenaline surge controlling me, and I generally have to burn it off before I can get anywhere productive again. Anxiety or anger seem to be my emotional responses to conflict (except in cases of people fundamentally hostile to me, like the antis at the clinics -- in those cases, winning is not letting the bullying elicit a reaction beyond laughter, and I'm damned good at that), and while I don't like either, I'll take anxiety over anger most days; it clouds my judgment less, and pulls me toward thinking before acting instead of vice versa. The good thing about the anxiety is that it does give me a good deal of impetus to try to resolve the issue at hand, at least to my own satisfaction inside my own head. I can't get my heartrate back down until I do. In the two days of this particular explosion, it probably hasn't been fully off my mind for more than 15 minutes or so at a time, my stomach's been in knots, and my heart has been racing (insomnia ahoy). That is emphatically not a request for sympathy or a "poor me", I'm simply talking about physiological responses, and ones with which I'm well-familiar. It's informed by what I've learned about interacting with my own physiology in regards to the bipolar and the fibromyalgia, definitely. It's a particular way of thinking about myself and my states of mind and body as objectively as I can.
Oh, one other point worth talking about -- finding the balance between one of my strengths being my openness and willingness to talk about things, and one of my weaknesses being my tendency to go off on tangents, ramble, and take over conversations. It's a work in progress, to say the least. It's part of what I find valuable about having a journal -- a place that by definition is my space to ramble to my heart's content, that isn't encroaching on anyone else's space unless they choose. It's a good release valve so I'm less likely to do so in less appropriate circumstances (obviously doesn't always work!)
Well, I've rambled more than enough. It's my weekend, and I'm currently ignoring a particularly entertaining Tom Baker Doctor Who, and have to get ready for patient-instructing in a few hours. It's still abyssmally hot here, and we've got an extra dog next door temporarily (very sweet story) that's adding a good deal of chaos to our mutual yards and dog dynamics. Casey's coming over tonight, and I'm really looking forward to her feminist sociologist's perspective on all this, in between screaming at So You Think You Can Dance and getting fucked up. I still have some other thoughts about my long-term approaches to politics that I want to move to top-level posts, but I may wait a day or two to do that, and I may be slow at replying to comments here as well, since I don't normally spend much time online when I'm at home.
Edit to add: One final note that popped to mind; being over-reactive to being misunderstood. I know I've written about that before, so this is just a mental note to myself.
This has ended up becoming quite a ramble, and I've no idea whether it's going to make sense to anyone except me.
( personal history, and chosen family, and a lot of rambling )
OK, enough rambling for now. I'm especially interested in other people's take on these kinds of issues; I've only got the one perspective.
( personal history, and chosen family, and a lot of rambling )
OK, enough rambling for now. I'm especially interested in other people's take on these kinds of issues; I've only got the one perspective.
Adjusting to the new schedule...
Feb. 18th, 2010 06:52 pmStarted the new schedule this week -- 3pm-11:30, with W/Th off, instead of Sa/Sun. So far so good, although I'm at work today due to a scheduling screwup on Sunday. I'm really low-energy at the moment, especially socially, so I'll probably be a bit hermity for a while. The visit with tasharowan was great, but now I'm doing the introvert-recovery thing that I need after even the most low-maintenance visitors. And it's Olympics right now anyway -- Bec and I have a longstanding obsession there, and I'm spending almost all my free time catching up on each day's events. I can rant about the socioeconomic impacts of the Games, and all the suspect cooptation of _everything_ with the best of them, but I still do love to watch people hurl themselves down from ridiculous icy heights with incredible skill, so we mostly save the political critique and alternate between cheering and gratuitous costuming/commentating snark instead.
Grafton and Casey have never seen Time Bandits. It's now on order, and I intend to rectifying this glaring omission forthwith.
Linkety-linkety post may be coming, depending on whether rewatching the second half of Hogfather distracts me thoroughly or not.
tasharowan was great, but now I'm doing the introvert-recovery thing that I need after even the most low-maintenance visitors. And it's Olympics right now anyway -- Bec and I have a longstanding obsession there, and I'm spending almost all my free time catching up on each day's events. I can rant about the socioeconomic impacts of the Games, and all the suspect cooptation of _everything_ with the best of them, but I still do love to watch people hurl themselves down from ridiculous icy heights with incredible skill, so we mostly save the political critique and alternate between cheering and gratuitous costuming/commentating snark instead.Grafton and Casey have never seen Time Bandits. It's now on order, and I intend to rectifying this glaring omission forthwith.
Linkety-linkety post may be coming, depending on whether rewatching the second half of Hogfather distracts me thoroughly or not.
Fireworks...
Jul. 5th, 2009 09:01 amSo Forestfire and family came through last night, and after a bit of a search for an open restaurant, we ended up at My Friends. Wow, haven't been there in years. After, we ended up at a friend's house to watch the fireworks from her front yard, which turned out to be perfect -- the kids got to burn off some energy, and we had a great view. Also, she has a parrot. I love parrots. I spent half my evening in front of the cage, playing with him.
The headache finally seems to have given up the ghost early this morning, so I'm a much happier camper. Watching The Five Doctors episode of Doctor Who, considering working some more on the tattoo project. I still haven't gotten accustomed to how much faster the research is going on this than it did for the first piece. Google Imagesearch is a hell of a lot faster than Interlibrary Loan. I've got enough images noted that it's getting time to pull them all together, print them out, and start looking at how they fit together, and eliminating options. There are eight figures on my left side at the moment, and I expect we'll add probably another eight or so. That was pared down from at least a hundred or so I originally pulled from research. I've got about that many male figures now, and it's time to start sorting out where the boundaries are -- how detailed is too detailed, what themes and variety are represented, how much clothing is too much, etc, as well as variety of poses and positions. Time for a spreadsheet. Oh yes.
Oh, yay! Mark is making me flan today.
The headache finally seems to have given up the ghost early this morning, so I'm a much happier camper. Watching The Five Doctors episode of Doctor Who, considering working some more on the tattoo project. I still haven't gotten accustomed to how much faster the research is going on this than it did for the first piece. Google Imagesearch is a hell of a lot faster than Interlibrary Loan. I've got enough images noted that it's getting time to pull them all together, print them out, and start looking at how they fit together, and eliminating options. There are eight figures on my left side at the moment, and I expect we'll add probably another eight or so. That was pared down from at least a hundred or so I originally pulled from research. I've got about that many male figures now, and it's time to start sorting out where the boundaries are -- how detailed is too detailed, what themes and variety are represented, how much clothing is too much, etc, as well as variety of poses and positions. Time for a spreadsheet. Oh yes.
Oh, yay! Mark is making me flan today.
Weekend update...
Jun. 8th, 2009 12:12 pmI didn't end up going to the Preterm event on Friday; I was just too wiped out, and K was going to be running late anyway, so we made alternate plans. Since I'd already donated for the ticket, I don't feel too bad about not making it in person, and I desperately needed the sleep.
Saturday morning was good; lots of antis did show up down the street at the other clinic, but at the one I was working, it was a pretty typical morning, without much comment about Dr. Tiller's murder, so that was good, at least for my blood pressure. And I did get to see K for a while when she stopped by to visit her ex-coworkers, and that was lovely.
Saturday afternoon became a party at my place, and was lots of very relaxed fun, although I was in an obsessive mood, so I packed through a good chunk of it. Got lots more packing done over the weekend; I'm getting close to the point where I shouldn't pack any more until we're ready to go, or I'm going to be packing necessities/major comfort items. Of course, that doesn't count the basement tackling. Oy. And I've got my plane ticket for my next tattoo session on the 20th of this month -- getting this ahead on the packing helps me stress less about being gone while in the midst of the move process.
Sunday was more packing, and some panicking because we couldn't locate Spike (one of the three newbie cats in the house). After hunting every nook and cranny all day, and contacting Rachel to let her know, he finally popped up, all friendly and talkative. *eyeroll*
The new cats are doing well with the adjustments, though. Riley was fine from day one, basically. Lucy's been getting more and more gutsy, and isn't having trouble getting around the house, nor is she shy about demanding affection regularly. Spike was my last major concern, and it's obvious from the behavior we saw last night that he's doing fine, not having trouble getting to the cat food and water, and not too spooked even when the big dog gets over-excited. All very good news.
Nothing major on the schedule this week. I'm looking forward to some calm, and maybe a bit more sleep, if I can stop obsessively packing (seriously -- I wake up in the middle of the night with my usual insomnia, and spend the next two hours mired in sorting and packing jobs).
Saturday morning was good; lots of antis did show up down the street at the other clinic, but at the one I was working, it was a pretty typical morning, without much comment about Dr. Tiller's murder, so that was good, at least for my blood pressure. And I did get to see K for a while when she stopped by to visit her ex-coworkers, and that was lovely.
Saturday afternoon became a party at my place, and was lots of very relaxed fun, although I was in an obsessive mood, so I packed through a good chunk of it. Got lots more packing done over the weekend; I'm getting close to the point where I shouldn't pack any more until we're ready to go, or I'm going to be packing necessities/major comfort items. Of course, that doesn't count the basement tackling. Oy. And I've got my plane ticket for my next tattoo session on the 20th of this month -- getting this ahead on the packing helps me stress less about being gone while in the midst of the move process.
Sunday was more packing, and some panicking because we couldn't locate Spike (one of the three newbie cats in the house). After hunting every nook and cranny all day, and contacting Rachel to let her know, he finally popped up, all friendly and talkative. *eyeroll*
The new cats are doing well with the adjustments, though. Riley was fine from day one, basically. Lucy's been getting more and more gutsy, and isn't having trouble getting around the house, nor is she shy about demanding affection regularly. Spike was my last major concern, and it's obvious from the behavior we saw last night that he's doing fine, not having trouble getting to the cat food and water, and not too spooked even when the big dog gets over-excited. All very good news.
Nothing major on the schedule this week. I'm looking forward to some calm, and maybe a bit more sleep, if I can stop obsessively packing (seriously -- I wake up in the middle of the night with my usual insomnia, and spend the next two hours mired in sorting and packing jobs).
