I have class in like... an hour, and I feel so sick that I would much rather lay in bed all day than be in classes until 3:15.
I really want people to stop feeling sorry for themselves. It's okay to feel sorry for yourself every now and then, because from time to time there is REASON to feel sorry for yourself. I can name any number of instances where I was guilty of pitying myself, probably within the last 24 hours.
I just don't understand why some people feel the need to broadcast their feelings of inadequacy, their unhappiness, illness, etc. If someone walked up to me and said, "I'm pretty upset Rach, it turns out I have cancer," I would feel sorry for them, but more than that I would work with them as a person, as my friend, to try to get them to a point where they could live life and not feel sorry for themselves. Does that make any sense or am I just rambling?
I guess my point is, it's unfortunate that you have to get your wisdom teeth out and you're in pain, or that your body is sore from going to the gym, or that you have to work at an ungodly hour, etc. etc. But watch the news, read a book, go outside. There are so many more productive things one could do besides complaining about one's life.
It's so bothersome to me that people can't just live and enjoy life, something always has to be really bad or really good. Life is about enjoying everything: the happiness, the sadness, the stomach aches, the sleepless nights, the poetry, the flowers, everything. Just appreciate everything because experiencing something, anything, is so precious and so human.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Celestial Choir
I swear I'm reading, but for serious this quote is amazing:
"The goddess comes, she moves divinely fair,
Olive and laurel bind her golden hair:
Wherever shines this native of the skies,
Unnumber'd charms and recent graces rise."
- To His Excellency General Washington, Phillis Wheatley
No more distracting myself. Back to the books.
"The goddess comes, she moves divinely fair,
Olive and laurel bind her golden hair:
Wherever shines this native of the skies,
Unnumber'd charms and recent graces rise."
- To His Excellency General Washington, Phillis Wheatley
No more distracting myself. Back to the books.
Bette Davis
I met my lacrosse coach today, and he's actually a really nice guy. We had a table at the "club fair" aka mosey through if you want, and be rude to the people who are whoring their clubs to you, but it was actually fun. We got a few girls interested in it, and there are more coming. It should be a successful season. We play this Friday at 2 pm, and I am SO EXCITED! I haven't played since June, so I'll probably be pretty bad, but I'm super excited because there are boys playing too, which means we can hit each other and stuff. I AM SO EXCITED! I knock people around in girls lax, but if a ref sees me it's trouble. The boys, per usual, get to have all the fun.
I also went to instrumental tonight, and played my violin for the first time in four months. My wrist is killing me right now but otherwise it feels wonderful to be making music again. I tore a ligament in my left wrist last year and it acts up every now and then, particularly when I play my instruments. The violin isn't very conducive to having your wrist resting in a natural position.
The visit with the madre went very well. We went to the macaroni grill, and I didn't eat for a day afterwards because I was still full (the woman knows how to feed me). We also discussed my getting another tattoo.
She was with me when I got my first tattoo, and completely supported it. I have a treble-clef on my mid-upper back in the centre, as a memorial to my music teacher who died during my senior year in high school. It seemed inappropriate that I got a memorial tattoo to my music teacher (who I love dearly and who changed my life) but not to my father. I think it was a lot easier to come up with a meaningful tattoo idea for George, but it's difficult to find the perfect one for Daddy.
So I discussed it with the madre, and she thinks it's brilliant. She suggested a hummingbird, a butterfly, and a rainbow. So I'm going to try to incorporate those things together? Somehow? I don't really like the idea of a hummingbird or a butterfly cause those things are too girly, but Daddy was fond of hummingbirds.
She suggested a rainbow because my father's best friend was gay and died of AIDS (something she neglected to tell me until Sunday), and, her exact words "Daddy was sympathetic towards gay people." I think a rainbow tattoo is brilliant, but I'm not sure it's what I want. I would love and will at some point in time get a rainbow tattoo, but right now I am focusing on getting something to memorialise my father for me, and nothing else. I looked for some ideas online and I found one where there is the Earth surrounded by a rainbow going out, kind of like sun rays, which I think is really cool. I was thinking that, for my father, I could get a standard peace sign in the middle with a rainbow going out (effectively killing two birds with one stone, which is what I kind of wanted to avoid). I want people to see my new tattoo and know I got it for my father, and I am afraid that if I get a rainbow tattoo they won't think that. But I don't want to get a heart with "Daddy" in it. It has to be meaningful. I'm still playing with the idea, but I go home for Molly's NINETEEN BIRTHDAY! on September 21, which is when I was planning on getting the tattoo. But these things can't be rushed.
I'm watching All About Eve and LOLing at Bette Davis, she's such a loon. She's too serious about everything in such a not-at-all serious kind of way. I'm pretty envious of the ability to be serious/but not at the same time, everyone either thinks I'm completely insane and always running in circles like a deranged person or I'm overly serious. There has to be an even medium, but I don't think there is with me.
I've got so much going through my head right now that it's craziness. And I should be reading Phillis Wheatley, and although I think her poetry is astonishing, I have had no time to myself at all today. This is my first free moment. God.
I see myself going crazy and or never sleeping and or both in the very near future. Perhaps tonight? We'll see.
The Harvey Milk movie looks fabulous, can't wait to see it.
I need to read, but I'd rather be running around outside in the puddles. Gahh!!
I also went to instrumental tonight, and played my violin for the first time in four months. My wrist is killing me right now but otherwise it feels wonderful to be making music again. I tore a ligament in my left wrist last year and it acts up every now and then, particularly when I play my instruments. The violin isn't very conducive to having your wrist resting in a natural position.
The visit with the madre went very well. We went to the macaroni grill, and I didn't eat for a day afterwards because I was still full (the woman knows how to feed me). We also discussed my getting another tattoo.
She was with me when I got my first tattoo, and completely supported it. I have a treble-clef on my mid-upper back in the centre, as a memorial to my music teacher who died during my senior year in high school. It seemed inappropriate that I got a memorial tattoo to my music teacher (who I love dearly and who changed my life) but not to my father. I think it was a lot easier to come up with a meaningful tattoo idea for George, but it's difficult to find the perfect one for Daddy.
So I discussed it with the madre, and she thinks it's brilliant. She suggested a hummingbird, a butterfly, and a rainbow. So I'm going to try to incorporate those things together? Somehow? I don't really like the idea of a hummingbird or a butterfly cause those things are too girly, but Daddy was fond of hummingbirds.
She suggested a rainbow because my father's best friend was gay and died of AIDS (something she neglected to tell me until Sunday), and, her exact words "Daddy was sympathetic towards gay people." I think a rainbow tattoo is brilliant, but I'm not sure it's what I want. I would love and will at some point in time get a rainbow tattoo, but right now I am focusing on getting something to memorialise my father for me, and nothing else. I looked for some ideas online and I found one where there is the Earth surrounded by a rainbow going out, kind of like sun rays, which I think is really cool. I was thinking that, for my father, I could get a standard peace sign in the middle with a rainbow going out (effectively killing two birds with one stone, which is what I kind of wanted to avoid). I want people to see my new tattoo and know I got it for my father, and I am afraid that if I get a rainbow tattoo they won't think that. But I don't want to get a heart with "Daddy" in it. It has to be meaningful. I'm still playing with the idea, but I go home for Molly's NINETEEN BIRTHDAY! on September 21, which is when I was planning on getting the tattoo. But these things can't be rushed.
I'm watching All About Eve and LOLing at Bette Davis, she's such a loon. She's too serious about everything in such a not-at-all serious kind of way. I'm pretty envious of the ability to be serious/but not at the same time, everyone either thinks I'm completely insane and always running in circles like a deranged person or I'm overly serious. There has to be an even medium, but I don't think there is with me.
I've got so much going through my head right now that it's craziness. And I should be reading Phillis Wheatley, and although I think her poetry is astonishing, I have had no time to myself at all today. This is my first free moment. God.
I see myself going crazy and or never sleeping and or both in the very near future. Perhaps tonight? We'll see.
The Harvey Milk movie looks fabulous, can't wait to see it.
I need to read, but I'd rather be running around outside in the puddles. Gahh!!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
For What It's Worth
The madre is coming for a visit today (a four hour drive total, bless her heart) and we're going to go out to late lunch and have a good time.
But I had to degay my room, which means I had to hide the rainbow flag, the poster of the girls sucking face, and loose the key chain that says "my parents told me I could be anything, so I became a lesbian."
When I am home, I have to act not gay. I don't act straight (I never really acted straight except when I was trying desperately to convince myself and everyone around me that I was straight, but that subsided sometime between the eighth grade and sophomore year) around anyone. I never talk about my crushes around my mom, or tell her how hurt I am when I am treated differently (something happened that I may or may not talk about in a coming post) or tell her what it's like to be me, really. Being me is great, I love who I am and how far I have come. I love life and everything about it, and I'm a lot healthier and happier than I've ever been as a result of my out-ness.
I just wish I could tell her. It hurts so much to feel like I'm hiding a huge part of who I am from her, from the person I used to be the closest to in the whole world. Ever since my father died it has been the madre and I, just the two of us putting our lives back together. I want so badly for her to know that I'm gay, and for her to not care at all. I'm not just gay, just like I'm not just a Christian, a college student, from the East Coast, the child of a single mother, the child of immigrants and Native Americans, of explorers and farmers. I'm just me, and I'm worth everything in the world, just like you. I want to be worth as much to the world as I know I am to me.
But I had to degay my room, which means I had to hide the rainbow flag, the poster of the girls sucking face, and loose the key chain that says "my parents told me I could be anything, so I became a lesbian."
When I am home, I have to act not gay. I don't act straight (I never really acted straight except when I was trying desperately to convince myself and everyone around me that I was straight, but that subsided sometime between the eighth grade and sophomore year) around anyone. I never talk about my crushes around my mom, or tell her how hurt I am when I am treated differently (something happened that I may or may not talk about in a coming post) or tell her what it's like to be me, really. Being me is great, I love who I am and how far I have come. I love life and everything about it, and I'm a lot healthier and happier than I've ever been as a result of my out-ness.
I just wish I could tell her. It hurts so much to feel like I'm hiding a huge part of who I am from her, from the person I used to be the closest to in the whole world. Ever since my father died it has been the madre and I, just the two of us putting our lives back together. I want so badly for her to know that I'm gay, and for her to not care at all. I'm not just gay, just like I'm not just a Christian, a college student, from the East Coast, the child of a single mother, the child of immigrants and Native Americans, of explorers and farmers. I'm just me, and I'm worth everything in the world, just like you. I want to be worth as much to the world as I know I am to me.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
The World I Want
I saw a movie last night that I need to share.
The movie we watched was called "Everything is Illuminated." It was a really beautiful film about a young man going to the Ukraine in search of the woman who saved his grandfather from being killed by the NAZIs, in the end though he discovers that his grandfather was saved by the fact that he left the village to go to America a week before the NAZIs arrived. He left behind his wife and his unborn child, whom he was going to America to find a better home for. It was such a beautiful movie because I feel like we all wonder about our past like that, but most people aren't fortunate enough to be able to piece the clues together.
I am part Ukrainian, and my family has a very similar story to this movie, which may have been why I was so deeply moved (besides the fact that the message is so powerful). My mother's father was born in this country at the end of the first world war to Polish and Ukrainian immigrants. The way I've always heard the story, the men came to this country before the women (around the turn of the century) and were followed by the women and children after they had homes and jobs. Family had to be left behind of course, not everyone could or wanted to come. Care packages were sent on a regular basis, and letters were sent and received consistently. The line of communication was never lost between the family. By the time the second world war rolled around, the family in this country was scrambling to keep track of the family in Europe.
Eventually, the family stopped responding to letters and packages sent.
The assumtion always was that they were casualties of war. But no one knows exactly what happened to them, or if there were any survivors at all. We probably never will know.
Hate is so big, and so difficult to overcome. It's so easy to hate the NAZIs for killing our friends and families, and for hating us for no reason at all. But nothing will ever be resolved by fighting hate with hate. Violence begats violence, hate perpetuates hate. I don't hate the NAZIs for killing a family I never got the chance to know, or for shaking the world with so much hatred. I love the beauty in life, spring flowers and chirping birds, light rain on a cloudy afternoon, fresh air and sunshine forever. I don't understand hate, I never will. But I do understand love, and I know the world I want for myself, and for my family. The world I want is love.
The movie we watched was called "Everything is Illuminated." It was a really beautiful film about a young man going to the Ukraine in search of the woman who saved his grandfather from being killed by the NAZIs, in the end though he discovers that his grandfather was saved by the fact that he left the village to go to America a week before the NAZIs arrived. He left behind his wife and his unborn child, whom he was going to America to find a better home for. It was such a beautiful movie because I feel like we all wonder about our past like that, but most people aren't fortunate enough to be able to piece the clues together.
I am part Ukrainian, and my family has a very similar story to this movie, which may have been why I was so deeply moved (besides the fact that the message is so powerful). My mother's father was born in this country at the end of the first world war to Polish and Ukrainian immigrants. The way I've always heard the story, the men came to this country before the women (around the turn of the century) and were followed by the women and children after they had homes and jobs. Family had to be left behind of course, not everyone could or wanted to come. Care packages were sent on a regular basis, and letters were sent and received consistently. The line of communication was never lost between the family. By the time the second world war rolled around, the family in this country was scrambling to keep track of the family in Europe.
Eventually, the family stopped responding to letters and packages sent.
The assumtion always was that they were casualties of war. But no one knows exactly what happened to them, or if there were any survivors at all. We probably never will know.
Hate is so big, and so difficult to overcome. It's so easy to hate the NAZIs for killing our friends and families, and for hating us for no reason at all. But nothing will ever be resolved by fighting hate with hate. Violence begats violence, hate perpetuates hate. I don't hate the NAZIs for killing a family I never got the chance to know, or for shaking the world with so much hatred. I love the beauty in life, spring flowers and chirping birds, light rain on a cloudy afternoon, fresh air and sunshine forever. I don't understand hate, I never will. But I do understand love, and I know the world I want for myself, and for my family. The world I want is love.
How Does It Feel to be a Problem?
"Between me and the world there is ever an unasked question: unaksed by some through feelings of delicacy; by others through the difficulty of right framing it. All, nevertheless, flutter round it. They approach me in a half-hesitant sort of way, eye me curiously or compassionately, and then, instead of saying directly, How does it feel to be a problem? they say, I know an excellent colored man in my town; or, I fought at Mechanicsville; or, Do not these Southern outrages make your blood boil? At these I smile, or am interested, or reduce the boiling to a simmer, as the occasion may require. To the real question, How does it feel to be a problem? I answer seldom a word." - W.E.B. DuBois
I'm taking an African American Lit course, and so far I love it. The professor is pretty fantastic, and I'm kind of a celebrity in the English department (and super modest too), so the professor loves me. My creative writing prof from first semester last year must have told her about me (my creative writing professor and I are biffs). I found this quote in one of the readings for this class and I think it's fantastic because it's applicable to any situation, or the struggle of any group. I'm not African American, but I do know how it feels to be made to feel like a problem by everyone around you. The quote just really spoke to me.
My statistics professor is completely insane (in a good way) and we get along really well. She's very... bouncy? I think would be a good way of describing her. She bounces from topic to topic, from thought to thought, very casually. It works, and she's a good professor, but the flow of her thoughts is remarkable to me. During the first class she was trying to memorise names and when she got to me she said I look "mature." I'm not exactly sure how to take that. I know I am mature for my age, at the same time I'm not always mature. I know when to have a good time and when to be serious (don't we all?). She also commented on my "marriage is so gay" t-shirt, saying that she hoped I didn't mean it in the derogatory sense. My friend turned to me and whispered "no lady, it just means she's wicked gay." She'll get to know me though.
I'm taking a pretty heavy course load this semester. Thankfully I'm taking these courses this semester and now next semester, because having 20 credits (from difficult classes) during lacrosse season would completely suck. School before lax, so I wouldn't play. I'm not even sure if I am going to play this year, as much as I want to. We have a new coach, and it's not going to be all nature walks and passing for fun and horsing around like it was last year. Granted we did work hard, but our new coach is going to run us into the ground this year. I need to get to the gym more and start being serious.
In any event, I have a lot on my mind in terms of school, music and lax as of late. There's also this girl and she is really cute, and I'm trying to figure out what to do with that. My issue isn't that I don't have confidence; my issue is that I don't know what I want. The interim between wanting the world and wanting to scorn commonalities. It's a scary place to be.
I'm taking an African American Lit course, and so far I love it. The professor is pretty fantastic, and I'm kind of a celebrity in the English department (and super modest too), so the professor loves me. My creative writing prof from first semester last year must have told her about me (my creative writing professor and I are biffs). I found this quote in one of the readings for this class and I think it's fantastic because it's applicable to any situation, or the struggle of any group. I'm not African American, but I do know how it feels to be made to feel like a problem by everyone around you. The quote just really spoke to me.
My statistics professor is completely insane (in a good way) and we get along really well. She's very... bouncy? I think would be a good way of describing her. She bounces from topic to topic, from thought to thought, very casually. It works, and she's a good professor, but the flow of her thoughts is remarkable to me. During the first class she was trying to memorise names and when she got to me she said I look "mature." I'm not exactly sure how to take that. I know I am mature for my age, at the same time I'm not always mature. I know when to have a good time and when to be serious (don't we all?). She also commented on my "marriage is so gay" t-shirt, saying that she hoped I didn't mean it in the derogatory sense. My friend turned to me and whispered "no lady, it just means she's wicked gay." She'll get to know me though.
I'm taking a pretty heavy course load this semester. Thankfully I'm taking these courses this semester and now next semester, because having 20 credits (from difficult classes) during lacrosse season would completely suck. School before lax, so I wouldn't play. I'm not even sure if I am going to play this year, as much as I want to. We have a new coach, and it's not going to be all nature walks and passing for fun and horsing around like it was last year. Granted we did work hard, but our new coach is going to run us into the ground this year. I need to get to the gym more and start being serious.
In any event, I have a lot on my mind in terms of school, music and lax as of late. There's also this girl and she is really cute, and I'm trying to figure out what to do with that. My issue isn't that I don't have confidence; my issue is that I don't know what I want. The interim between wanting the world and wanting to scorn commonalities. It's a scary place to be.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Comedians
Oh my gosh I saw the FUNNIEST comedians tonight. They were so incredibly funny, and my friends took up two entire rows (all the way across). Although I am the only lesbian in my group of friends (the only out one anyway...) we basically looked like the lesbian contingency of *insert my college name here*. Maybe it's because I hang out with softball players? Who's to say?
But all the lesbian jokes were directed towards us, more specifically me. All I can say is "dora the coochie explora." I was literally on the floor.
I made dinner for four of my friends (and myself) tonight. It was the first time I've ever cooked for people who weren't my mother and her friend and they LOVED it! It was such a big confidence booster for me. The entire hall smelt of the deliciousness and the love for hours. It was so nice to just have a meal with them, in the kitchen, all sitting around drinking TAB soda, eating wonderful pasta, laughing, talking, catching up, reminiscing. We really are the coolest people in the entire world.
I feel so much better than I did a few days ago, thanks to my friends and my school for providing me with awesome outlets. I've never laughed so hard in my life, or smiled so big. I see friendly faces everywhere I go, people know my name, they know who I am, what I stand for. They accept me for me, they know me. I can't get over how good it feels to walk across campus, and KNOW everyone you come across.
I haven't gotten used to not seeing the seniors, and seeing their replacements (the freshmen). I don't know many of the freshmen, the ones I do know are cool. There are like... maybe two out lesbians that I can see, probably ten closet cases. Nobody that I'm really interested in, which is disappointing to me.
She's out there though, I know it.
But all the lesbian jokes were directed towards us, more specifically me. All I can say is "dora the coochie explora." I was literally on the floor.
I made dinner for four of my friends (and myself) tonight. It was the first time I've ever cooked for people who weren't my mother and her friend and they LOVED it! It was such a big confidence booster for me. The entire hall smelt of the deliciousness and the love for hours. It was so nice to just have a meal with them, in the kitchen, all sitting around drinking TAB soda, eating wonderful pasta, laughing, talking, catching up, reminiscing. We really are the coolest people in the entire world.
I feel so much better than I did a few days ago, thanks to my friends and my school for providing me with awesome outlets. I've never laughed so hard in my life, or smiled so big. I see friendly faces everywhere I go, people know my name, they know who I am, what I stand for. They accept me for me, they know me. I can't get over how good it feels to walk across campus, and KNOW everyone you come across.
I haven't gotten used to not seeing the seniors, and seeing their replacements (the freshmen). I don't know many of the freshmen, the ones I do know are cool. There are like... maybe two out lesbians that I can see, probably ten closet cases. Nobody that I'm really interested in, which is disappointing to me.
She's out there though, I know it.
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