If I had a Hammer

There are some things in life that simply do not make sense. For example, hate, it just doesn't make any sense. If you go along with the mentality that God (yes I believe that there is a God, yes I am a Christian, yes I disagree with all of the radical Christian ideologies) created everything, why would God create hate? The fundamentalists would tell you that God didn't create Gays, or Jews, or Muslims, or Mexicans, or any group that doesn't fit into their view of the perfect Christian world. I believe that God created everything equally, every flower, every baby, every thought. It is as difficult for me to rationalise hate as it is for the fundamentalists to rationalise alternative viewpoints.

I had a discussion with a friend of mine the other night about hate. My opinion is that hate is the manifestation of misplaced fear. The Communists feared a popular uprising against the party, so they propogated hate of capitalism. The Nazis feared everyone and everything that went against what they stood for, so the spread the hate of everyone who wasn't a blonde haired, blue eyed, Protestant of Nordic ancestry. George Bush and his cronies feared being caught in a web of lies they invented when they knew they couldn't protect the people to the uptmost, so they propogated hate of muslims, not just muslim extremeists, but anyone from the middle east. It's always someone else's fault. Why can't we, as a society, as a culture, as a human race admit that we have been led astray, that we are mistook, and it is all our fault. But we will do everything in our power to fix it.

That's the clincher, we won't do everything in our power to fix it because, well, we're lazy. It's so much easier to blame someone else and have them have to pick up the pieces.
Uncertainty breeds fear, and fear breeds hate. The fact of the matter is, uncertainty is an integral part of life. Nothing is certain. You may go to take a shower today, lather your hair, drop some suds, and slip and fall and never get back up. Or it may be the most uneventful shower of your life. God only knows.

So stop breeding hate, stop caring about uncertainty, more importantly stop fearing it. There are two things which are certain in life, and no they are not "death and taxes." Life, in any capacity and eventual sunshine are the only certain things in life. Life and sunshine, though fleeting, will happen.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=hiMve1ggjnI&feature=related

The economy, the coming weekends, et cetera

I'm eighteen years old, almost nineteen, and I'm actually afraid for our country (and my future). I went for a job interview today at a coffee chain that will remain nameless, and there must have been 20+ other applicants, all from various walks of life. One man was older, clearly mentally challenged (maybe borderline unemployable as a result). One women explained that she lived in a motel nearby so getting to work would be no issue. One girl was going to school in Rhode Island, home for summer vacation (very similarly to me). One man needed a job in the morning on the way to his afternoon/evening job to add to his already meager wages. It's a sad day when all of these people have to put themselves out and basically beg for employment. It was clear that most of the people there NEEDED the job, had reached the end of their rope and had nowhere else to turn. It's when people become desparate that something is wrong, and something must be done.

Gas cannot be $4.15 a gallon (maybe it's a cent or two less at this point). I paid $50 to put 12ish gallons in my car today, my car that needs to get my friend and I to Boston and back this weekend (Boston is about 2 hours from where I live, about 1/4 of a tank of gas both ways). It is unbelieveable, and the prices just get passed along to the consumer. It's enough to make ya want to stay home, lock your doors, and pretend the world isn't going on around you.

I hope I get the job, in any event. More then that I hope all the rest of the applicants get the job. The only way to survive in a capitalist economy is to create capital and keep it circulating. Don't hide your money under your bed, that won't help you. And don't send it off to Swiss Banks where it will be safe. It needs to be spent, it needs to circulate, or else people become desparate. Keep looking out for the little guy, because some day you may find yourself feeling small and needing someone to look out for you.

So I'm going to True Colors in Boston this weekend, so excited!!! P Town last weekend, True Colors this coming weekend, and Pride Week in Disney World the following weekend. I don't even know where to begin with my elation, I'm having a wonderful summer, hope the rest of the world is too.

Of course I'm going to have a lot to say about True Colors. I'll try to sneak a camera in, but no promises.

P Town!!

Alright, oh my gosh I can barely contain my excitement, wooo gotta chill out.

P Town... it's just... it's so amazing... I don't even have the appropriate word to describe it. Fabulous comes close, but it is truly and sincerely AWESOME. I've had lots of really good days in my life:

Like the time my mother rented a bounce around for me and my friends and we went to town.

Or the time my lacrosse team and I went to the gay bar and got verbally assaulted (in jest of course) by drag queens.

Or the time I went to River Rat in Athol, MA (GOOO!!!! it's SOOO much fun!!).

But honestly, none of that compares to the day I spent in Provincetown with my mother and our friend yesterday.

We woke up between 8-9, were on the road by 9:30. The car ride out to the Cape is between 4-5 hours, and it being a holiday weekend traffic vacillated from sparse to no wiggle room at all. We talked in the car for a good long time, took lots of pictures, made lots of stops. I've only ever been to the Cape really (and I consider the beach to be the Cape, since I go to Nantucket fairly often, but I don't consider that 'The Cape') two or three times. One of those times I was incredibly drunk and passed out in the middle of a street in a residential neighborhood. Good times, but that's a story for another lifetime.

We talked a lot about gay marriage, and how my mother is basically indifferent. She believes in equality but she wouldn't stick her neck out for it, which I find to be without tact but that's just me. Our poor friend is very new to this country and, as far as he knows, has never seen a gay person before. What a shock he had.

We went to the beach in P Town, paid $15 for parked but it was sooo worth it. The water is FREEZING this time of year, but I went in anyway cause I'm a rebel, of course. There were girls in bikinis playing rugby in the sand (a dream come true, I nearly cried with joy) and two mothers with their kids playing in the sand and talking to other parents. The bathrooms were atrocious, naturally.

We went into town after discovering that we really were very hungry. I wish I could remember the name of the restaurant where we ate, but the people were SO friendly. They love their customers, and their customers love them in return. I had fish and chips, which were not very good, but the service made the meal. Our friend kept poking me saying "Hey... is he?" or "Is she..." causing me to burst into a fit of laughter without fail every single time.

The HRC store is amazing, go there. It was simply amazing to me to see so many happy couples walking around, with children or with each other, hand in hand, arm in arm, laughing, smiling, enjoying each others company. To me it really is the most perfect place in the world, where anyone can be themselves.

Unfortunately, because I'm not out to my mother, I couldn't chase after the hot young things walking around in bikinis or kiss the ground every time I saw a rainbow flag waving proudly (not that I would have... but I certainly wanted to).

When we piled into the car to head back home when the sun was just setting over the sand dunes everything felt so right with the world. I wanted every single person there to know that I love them with all my heart, for who they are, for what they are, because they are being themselves. I wanted to stay there forever and bask in its awesomeness, but daytrips, much like vacations or Christmas or high school, must come to an end.

As we were pulling away, my mother touched my shoulder and said "I think you and I were the only two straight women there." A little piece of me died, but hey, if she wants to think I'm straight let her. I'm not hiding it, I wear it proudly, and I haven't dated a boy in four years. Even when I did date boys, it was fairly obvious to everyone that I never really liked them very much romantically. Give me a basketball-playing boy or a swimming boy any day, someone to have fun with or to open up a beer with and talk about women, but other than that boys are pretty useless.

Some part of her must know, and if it doesn't then it's her problem for being blind. Though I've never explicitly told her (and I don't feel I should HAVE to tell anyone), I'm pretty gay. I would describe myself as your almost-stereotypical dyke (in that I love and can very often be found wearing polos and board shorts/long plaid shorts, my hair is never not in a pony tail, I don't let people hold the door for me, I hang out in gay bars, oh and I DATE WOMEN). Basically I fit right in at P Town, except for the stars in my eyes when I walked down the street.

Anyhow, Provincetown is AMAZING. Go. Go with your partner, your kids, your mom, your grandma, your dog, your great aunt Sally, your best friend (ALL your best friends!). I definetly recommend it. Provincetown, you have this dyke's seal of approval!