I'm not the biggest fan of the Kennedy family, for no reason other than the fact that they are alarmingly wealthy and powerful and alarmingly wealthy and powerful people/entities scare the sh*t out of me. That being said, it is too bad that Ted Kennedy lost his battle with brain cancer (a particularly atrocious type of cancer, no matter how young, old, accomplished, unknown you are, it just plain sucks) and that the U.S. senate lost such a champion of human rights. It's also very unfortunate that Obama and those working dilligently on a health care reform bill won't have the advice and knowledge of Ted Kennedy, and also that Mr. Kennedy won't be able to witness health care being provided to all Americans.
It's hard to get by Ted Kennedy's past, and even harder to get beyond the fact that he comes from one of the wealthiest families this country has ever known, and one of the most politically active. It is evident, though, in many of the Kennedys and the way in which they live their lives, that though they were blessed with emerald spoons in their mouths from birth, they know that the only way one can get in to Heaven is to take care of one's neighbour and that he who has "most" has least in the eyes of God unless he shares his wealth with others.
Oh, and happy anniversary of the 19th Amendment. Next year will be the 90 year anniversary of women's suffrage. It was a long time coming. It's ironic that Ted Kennedy, a champion of human rights in general but a fierce advocate of women and our rights would die on a day like today. So it goes.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
A Week and Five Days!!
Finally some good weather! It took freakin long enough for it to get here, but it's here and it is glorious, but it is going away on Sunday so I'm hanging on to it with every fiber of my being.
We're going to... you guessed it... PTOWN! this weekend! I'm so excited. I love nowhere else on this Earth the way that I love Provincetown. I'm sure there will be pictures after the weekend.
Two weeks from today I'll be in London, and I will have been there for two days! It's so surreal... I can hardly believe that just a few months ago studying abroad was a fleeting thought and now all of a sudden it's here and it's real and my suitcases are empty and glaring at me from across the room (they're saying "Rachel, you really can't put off packing us much longer..."). I'm going to miss everyone from home so much, and all of my college friends. A lot of my friends are seniors this year and I'm missing one whole half of their senior year. I'm missing four months of my little kitten's young life. I'm missing my one year anniversary with Hillary, apartment hunting and quality time.
I'm not too concerned about missing our one year because Hill knows that I love her and that every moment we have together is a gift, months and years don't matter, rather the most important aspect is the amount of love and happiness that fills those months and years. I'll miss her sleep breathing and setting the alarm clock fifteen minutes later and pulling her in to my arms for just a little bit longer. I'll miss playing with her hair on car rides while she drives. I'll miss climbing mountains with her and visiting my nieces and nephew with her and going out to dinner and holding hands under the table and going to the movies and putting my arm around her and letting her head rest on my shoulder. I'll probably even miss arguing with her over trivial things, things I only pick fights about because I know in the end she will still love me, if I thought for a minute she would stop loving me I would never argue about anything. She's a one of a kind kinda girl, and this is a one of a kind kinda love.
I'll miss all my friends from home, but I always miss them anyways. Kate and Natasha are so wrapped up in school and their new lives that I hardly ever see them anyway. I feel kind of like they don't appreciate the fact that I'm going to be 3,000 miles away for nearly four months and that they won't see me or likely talk to me for that amount of time. But I supposed, at this stage in our lives, I'm really only of use to them when they're home from school (if I'm home from school at the same time). I'll send them a postcard or two, but they won't understand that I miss them and that I love them, because they don't miss me and I'd venture to say that they don't love me anymore. It's all growing up though, I s'pose.
Molly and Rob and Jaime are all different stories. Rob and Jaime work all the time, and it's difficult to coordinate hanging out with them. I do feel, though, that they miss me when I'm not around and that they love me and that they appreciate the distance and length of time I will be away. Molly is the one person out of all of my friends from home who I am sure will miss me and appreciates that I will be gone for a long time and that I will be virtually unreachable a great deal of the time. If I retain a relationship with any of these people, I believe Molly will be the one with whom I still have a strong relationship in the coming years, even when I move to MA.
I'll miss my family, even though I don't see them as often as I would like, at least I know that if I need anything they are a phone call away for the most part. I visited my grandmother on Nantucket last Friday, and even though my grandmother remembers me as a 13 year old, she does recognize me (although she is shocked that I am as tall as I am, since the last time she remembers seeing me I was in rollerblades and overalls, speeding around the parking lot in her retirement community), but it's incredibly depressing to have a member of your family with Alzheimers. I needed to see her, though, because the last time I saw her was Thanksgiving two years ago, and if she were to die while I was in London I would never forgive myself for not seeing her in two years.
My mother will be the one who misses me the most, I am sure. She likes to pretend that she is okay without me, and she is, but I know she misses me and my crazy antics and she will find it strange that I don't call her in the afternoons when I know she is headed home just so we can shoot the breeze for a few minutes. She'll have difficulty not driving to my school on Saturday afternoons to pick me up and take me out to dinner or to take the T in the Boston with me to go to a museum. She'll worry about me constantly until my feet are planted safely on the ground on December 20th at Logan. It makes me feel good to know that she cares, but at the same time I worry that I am the cause of her suddenly more grey hair.
I'll try to blog often while I'm in Europe, and I'll try to have significantly more pictures than I usually do. This is the chance of a lifetime, I'm so glad to have this wonderful opportunity and I can't wait to share my experiences with everyone!
We're going to... you guessed it... PTOWN! this weekend! I'm so excited. I love nowhere else on this Earth the way that I love Provincetown. I'm sure there will be pictures after the weekend.
Two weeks from today I'll be in London, and I will have been there for two days! It's so surreal... I can hardly believe that just a few months ago studying abroad was a fleeting thought and now all of a sudden it's here and it's real and my suitcases are empty and glaring at me from across the room (they're saying "Rachel, you really can't put off packing us much longer..."). I'm going to miss everyone from home so much, and all of my college friends. A lot of my friends are seniors this year and I'm missing one whole half of their senior year. I'm missing four months of my little kitten's young life. I'm missing my one year anniversary with Hillary, apartment hunting and quality time.
I'm not too concerned about missing our one year because Hill knows that I love her and that every moment we have together is a gift, months and years don't matter, rather the most important aspect is the amount of love and happiness that fills those months and years. I'll miss her sleep breathing and setting the alarm clock fifteen minutes later and pulling her in to my arms for just a little bit longer. I'll miss playing with her hair on car rides while she drives. I'll miss climbing mountains with her and visiting my nieces and nephew with her and going out to dinner and holding hands under the table and going to the movies and putting my arm around her and letting her head rest on my shoulder. I'll probably even miss arguing with her over trivial things, things I only pick fights about because I know in the end she will still love me, if I thought for a minute she would stop loving me I would never argue about anything. She's a one of a kind kinda girl, and this is a one of a kind kinda love.
I'll miss all my friends from home, but I always miss them anyways. Kate and Natasha are so wrapped up in school and their new lives that I hardly ever see them anyway. I feel kind of like they don't appreciate the fact that I'm going to be 3,000 miles away for nearly four months and that they won't see me or likely talk to me for that amount of time. But I supposed, at this stage in our lives, I'm really only of use to them when they're home from school (if I'm home from school at the same time). I'll send them a postcard or two, but they won't understand that I miss them and that I love them, because they don't miss me and I'd venture to say that they don't love me anymore. It's all growing up though, I s'pose.
Molly and Rob and Jaime are all different stories. Rob and Jaime work all the time, and it's difficult to coordinate hanging out with them. I do feel, though, that they miss me when I'm not around and that they love me and that they appreciate the distance and length of time I will be away. Molly is the one person out of all of my friends from home who I am sure will miss me and appreciates that I will be gone for a long time and that I will be virtually unreachable a great deal of the time. If I retain a relationship with any of these people, I believe Molly will be the one with whom I still have a strong relationship in the coming years, even when I move to MA.
I'll miss my family, even though I don't see them as often as I would like, at least I know that if I need anything they are a phone call away for the most part. I visited my grandmother on Nantucket last Friday, and even though my grandmother remembers me as a 13 year old, she does recognize me (although she is shocked that I am as tall as I am, since the last time she remembers seeing me I was in rollerblades and overalls, speeding around the parking lot in her retirement community), but it's incredibly depressing to have a member of your family with Alzheimers. I needed to see her, though, because the last time I saw her was Thanksgiving two years ago, and if she were to die while I was in London I would never forgive myself for not seeing her in two years.
My mother will be the one who misses me the most, I am sure. She likes to pretend that she is okay without me, and she is, but I know she misses me and my crazy antics and she will find it strange that I don't call her in the afternoons when I know she is headed home just so we can shoot the breeze for a few minutes. She'll have difficulty not driving to my school on Saturday afternoons to pick me up and take me out to dinner or to take the T in the Boston with me to go to a museum. She'll worry about me constantly until my feet are planted safely on the ground on December 20th at Logan. It makes me feel good to know that she cares, but at the same time I worry that I am the cause of her suddenly more grey hair.
I'll try to blog often while I'm in Europe, and I'll try to have significantly more pictures than I usually do. This is the chance of a lifetime, I'm so glad to have this wonderful opportunity and I can't wait to share my experiences with everyone!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
At Least I'm Enjoying the Ride
Lots of stuff has been going on since I last blogged. I s'pose I'll begin at the beginning (as Julie Andrews [the human, not the cat] would say: let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start...).
A week ago Monday Hillary and I climbed 98% of Mt. Monadnock in New Hampshire. Apparently it's the second most climbed mountain in the world, right behind Mt. Fugi in Japan (totally going there at some point in my life). It was absolutely beautiful and so worth every ounce of sweat and every curse that slipped out of my lips the following day when my knees felt like they were going to give out. We couldn't finish climbing because there is a sheer rock face about, maybe 200 feet from the summit, and I knew I could get up, but getting down is the hard part.
You gotta get up to get down.
So we were content with getting as far as we got (and we made it sooooo far) and then climbing back down. We also didn't have enough water, which was a major concern. I actually ended up filling up my bottle at a stream (despite Hillary's warnings that I would get parasites. It's been a week, still no parasites and that water was darn good).
That's the trail... oi vey
A rock in the shape of a heart :)
Nature
A breathtaking view, even if it's a few hundred feet from the top
Later in the week we had to bring some family members up to upstate New York (we're not talking Albany or Syracuse here, we're talking borderline Canada, where some of the towns speak French) to retrieve their vehicle which had been being serviced for over a month. No one else in the family would do it, and what's family for if not to be there when you need them most? It was an extremely long day though, we started the journey at 8 am from where they were staying in MA and didn't get off the road until close to 11 pm that night. We took breaks for meals and stretches but mainly we just drove and drove... which is entirely too exhausting for my liking.
Over the weekend, Hillary and I went up to Maine to visit with her friend and her friend's boyfriend. It ended up that her friend's boyfriend's family was headed to the family cabin in the woods that weekend, so we tagged along and had a pretty awesome time. The cabin had no electricity or running water, it was mainly a place to sleep. There was an outhouse a bit away from the cabin. The cabin was entirely in the woods, surrounded by trees and a huge beautiful crystal clear lake bordered by mountains and rolling hills. There was no one around, no other campers and no cabins at all, just us, the sound of the water hitting the pebbles on the shore and the loons calling to each other. Hillary and I stayed in a tent in the woods and fell asleep to the loons and the crickets. It was wonderful to be unplugged for a while, to just enjoy being together and being surrounded by new friends and just relaxing for a bit. AND on the way home we stopped at LL Bean in Freeport, which was very cool, though super overwhelming. Still, a very cool store and definitely worth the experience. Give me the catalogue anyday though.
Now I'm mainly in London mode, trying to figure out what I need, what I have, what I can get when I'm there and what I should bring, etc. No big trips this weekend, except up to see my grandmother on Nantucket on Friday (which I'm not very comfortable with at the moment, since the Kennedys will be swarming the place and we'll have to avoid heavy traffic times at all cost) and to see some fireworks with Hill Saturday night. Summer is really starting to wind down now, and I can't say as though that makes me sad, though this is my last real summer of freedom. I'm so excited for adventure and the unknown, London will be a great adventure, I can hardly wait.
A week ago Monday Hillary and I climbed 98% of Mt. Monadnock in New Hampshire. Apparently it's the second most climbed mountain in the world, right behind Mt. Fugi in Japan (totally going there at some point in my life). It was absolutely beautiful and so worth every ounce of sweat and every curse that slipped out of my lips the following day when my knees felt like they were going to give out. We couldn't finish climbing because there is a sheer rock face about, maybe 200 feet from the summit, and I knew I could get up, but getting down is the hard part.
You gotta get up to get down.
So we were content with getting as far as we got (and we made it sooooo far) and then climbing back down. We also didn't have enough water, which was a major concern. I actually ended up filling up my bottle at a stream (despite Hillary's warnings that I would get parasites. It's been a week, still no parasites and that water was darn good).
That's the trail... oi vey
A rock in the shape of a heart :)
Nature
A breathtaking view, even if it's a few hundred feet from the top
Later in the week we had to bring some family members up to upstate New York (we're not talking Albany or Syracuse here, we're talking borderline Canada, where some of the towns speak French) to retrieve their vehicle which had been being serviced for over a month. No one else in the family would do it, and what's family for if not to be there when you need them most? It was an extremely long day though, we started the journey at 8 am from where they were staying in MA and didn't get off the road until close to 11 pm that night. We took breaks for meals and stretches but mainly we just drove and drove... which is entirely too exhausting for my liking.
Over the weekend, Hillary and I went up to Maine to visit with her friend and her friend's boyfriend. It ended up that her friend's boyfriend's family was headed to the family cabin in the woods that weekend, so we tagged along and had a pretty awesome time. The cabin had no electricity or running water, it was mainly a place to sleep. There was an outhouse a bit away from the cabin. The cabin was entirely in the woods, surrounded by trees and a huge beautiful crystal clear lake bordered by mountains and rolling hills. There was no one around, no other campers and no cabins at all, just us, the sound of the water hitting the pebbles on the shore and the loons calling to each other. Hillary and I stayed in a tent in the woods and fell asleep to the loons and the crickets. It was wonderful to be unplugged for a while, to just enjoy being together and being surrounded by new friends and just relaxing for a bit. AND on the way home we stopped at LL Bean in Freeport, which was very cool, though super overwhelming. Still, a very cool store and definitely worth the experience. Give me the catalogue anyday though.
Now I'm mainly in London mode, trying to figure out what I need, what I have, what I can get when I'm there and what I should bring, etc. No big trips this weekend, except up to see my grandmother on Nantucket on Friday (which I'm not very comfortable with at the moment, since the Kennedys will be swarming the place and we'll have to avoid heavy traffic times at all cost) and to see some fireworks with Hill Saturday night. Summer is really starting to wind down now, and I can't say as though that makes me sad, though this is my last real summer of freedom. I'm so excited for adventure and the unknown, London will be a great adventure, I can hardly wait.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Scraping By
I get really scared when I hear a lot of my classmates, friends and peers suggesting that Sarah Palin would be a better president than Barack Obama. These are the same people whose parents voted for George Bush twice, so I can only imagine the brain washing that went on in their households. Probably had Fox News on 24/7 for eight years.
It's just scary to think that these kids, the future of America, the future work force... have these insane notions about leaders. Leaders who have shown their true colours and proven themselves to be useless and worthless as public servants.
I was there was an island somewhere, where there were no politics, no one in charge and no power struggle. Everyone just did their own thing and got along and if there was ever any trouble there was punishment to be decided by the local people as a collective unit. No war and no death or destruction, just people trying to scrape by, like we've been trying to do for thousands of years.
When I think about the future of this country, I get so scared it almost makes me physically ill. Here's hoping my generation can get its act together, or that I stop caring.
It's just scary to think that these kids, the future of America, the future work force... have these insane notions about leaders. Leaders who have shown their true colours and proven themselves to be useless and worthless as public servants.
I was there was an island somewhere, where there were no politics, no one in charge and no power struggle. Everyone just did their own thing and got along and if there was ever any trouble there was punishment to be decided by the local people as a collective unit. No war and no death or destruction, just people trying to scrape by, like we've been trying to do for thousands of years.
When I think about the future of this country, I get so scared it almost makes me physically ill. Here's hoping my generation can get its act together, or that I stop caring.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
A Visit From The Stork
The family reunion was this weekend, and it actually went very well. No major issues and everyone put on a happy face and avoided ripping heads off.
So on Friday I was packing my things to get ready for the weekend. We were scheduled to leave my house when Hillary got here from work (a 2 hour drive for her) and then be on our way, taking separate cars because there wasn't enough room in one car for everything. I get a phone call from Hillary half-way through the day saying that one of the feral cats at school (Hillary works at our college now) had kittens and the maintenance staff was giving them away. So I called my mother to see if we could bring one home, if and only if she could look after the kitten until January and we would bring the kitten to the apartment with us when I got back from London. The madre agreed, so Hillary went and got a kitten.
Possibly the worst mistake of our lives, though also the cutest investment ever. This was the tiniest kitten I had ever held. She is a calico, who loves to run around like a banshee and things fingers and toes are the coolest chew toys ever. We took her to the vet on Monday and they determined that she was between 6-8 weeks old, so the bottle we had been feeding her every 2-4 hours since Friday evening was unnecessary (she seemed to really enjoy the bottle though).
We didn't get very much sleep at all the first few nights with her in her pink rubbermade bin complete with blanket and catnip mouse. She wanted to be fed, then she wanted to play, then she wanted to go to the bathroom and then she wanted to sleep, but she wanted to sleep on our chests. So we took her to the vet and they determined her age and told us what we should be feeding her, so we started her on a wet food/formula combo in a bowl and she took to it pretty much right away. I put her in a litterbox that same day and she did her business in the litterbox immediately, she's so damn smart.
Little did we know that when the vets gave her the de-wormer (fearing that, since her mom was a feral cat, she would have worms and fleas and earmites) she would have explosive diarreah for two days straight. She actually didn't have worms, she was just bloated with a big baby belly, and she didn't have fleas or ear mites either. She got a clean bill of health and she is a perfectly healthy and happy little kitten.
At this point, she is eating dry food and loving it, drinking water by itself (finally!) and going in the litterbox to do her business instead of all over the cat carrier where she sleeps. Right now she is attacking my laptop. It'll be sad to leave her in September, just like it will be sad to leave my cat and my dog and my rabbits. Hopefully she will quickly be able to defend herself against my five cats, the dog loves cats and will probably just lick her and annoy the hell out of her.
In January, she can move into the apartment with Hillary and I and we can be a happy little family. The kitten, whose name is Julie Andrews (as my six year old niece exclaimed when I explained who Julie Andrews is: "Fraulein Maria!") will be spayed probably sometime in midwinter, she'll be an indoor cat and she'll never be declawed as long as I have a say in the matter because small animals need a way to defend themselves. Hopefully she'll be a good pest-hunter in the new apartment.
So on Friday I was packing my things to get ready for the weekend. We were scheduled to leave my house when Hillary got here from work (a 2 hour drive for her) and then be on our way, taking separate cars because there wasn't enough room in one car for everything. I get a phone call from Hillary half-way through the day saying that one of the feral cats at school (Hillary works at our college now) had kittens and the maintenance staff was giving them away. So I called my mother to see if we could bring one home, if and only if she could look after the kitten until January and we would bring the kitten to the apartment with us when I got back from London. The madre agreed, so Hillary went and got a kitten.
Possibly the worst mistake of our lives, though also the cutest investment ever. This was the tiniest kitten I had ever held. She is a calico, who loves to run around like a banshee and things fingers and toes are the coolest chew toys ever. We took her to the vet on Monday and they determined that she was between 6-8 weeks old, so the bottle we had been feeding her every 2-4 hours since Friday evening was unnecessary (she seemed to really enjoy the bottle though).
We didn't get very much sleep at all the first few nights with her in her pink rubbermade bin complete with blanket and catnip mouse. She wanted to be fed, then she wanted to play, then she wanted to go to the bathroom and then she wanted to sleep, but she wanted to sleep on our chests. So we took her to the vet and they determined her age and told us what we should be feeding her, so we started her on a wet food/formula combo in a bowl and she took to it pretty much right away. I put her in a litterbox that same day and she did her business in the litterbox immediately, she's so damn smart.
Little did we know that when the vets gave her the de-wormer (fearing that, since her mom was a feral cat, she would have worms and fleas and earmites) she would have explosive diarreah for two days straight. She actually didn't have worms, she was just bloated with a big baby belly, and she didn't have fleas or ear mites either. She got a clean bill of health and she is a perfectly healthy and happy little kitten.
At this point, she is eating dry food and loving it, drinking water by itself (finally!) and going in the litterbox to do her business instead of all over the cat carrier where she sleeps. Right now she is attacking my laptop. It'll be sad to leave her in September, just like it will be sad to leave my cat and my dog and my rabbits. Hopefully she will quickly be able to defend herself against my five cats, the dog loves cats and will probably just lick her and annoy the hell out of her.
In January, she can move into the apartment with Hillary and I and we can be a happy little family. The kitten, whose name is Julie Andrews (as my six year old niece exclaimed when I explained who Julie Andrews is: "Fraulein Maria!") will be spayed probably sometime in midwinter, she'll be an indoor cat and she'll never be declawed as long as I have a say in the matter because small animals need a way to defend themselves. Hopefully she'll be a good pest-hunter in the new apartment.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Don't Look Back in Anger
I can't stand this volatile relationship my mother and I have. I just plain can't stand it anymore.
As I get older I'm able to piece together and reflect on the damage she's done to me over the years (being a psychology major only makes my introspection worse).
A few weeks ago she accused me of not liking Naveen, which she does on a regular basis. I love Naveen, like a brother (or at least I did before the whole dabacle on my birthday), and so naturally I defended the fact that I do like Naveen, it's their relationship I have a problem with. I'm sorry but my 50-something year old mother should not be doing a 20-something year old man's laundry, giving him her brand new laptop, making his lunches for him, etc. etc., it's not a friendship it's her babying him, but that's a long story for another day.
On this particular occasion I guess my mother decided she needed to get a good jab in and take me down a few pegs, so she said something to the affect of "you don't like him because he is Indian (obviously I'm racist, and if that wasn't offensive enough), or maybe it's because he's a man. The only people you care about are gay people and the only things you care about are gay issues."
It's taken me some time to reflect on this, because it cut me REAL deep. If my mother bothered to get to know me, she'd know I'm not really big into gay issues. I'm more of a big picture kind of girl. I'm really into human issues. I care about everyone who takes a minute to talk to me, if I've met you there's a good chance I care about you. I don't really have any gay friends, most of my friends are straight (by choice for the most part, because gay kids in college are filled with drama, and I, clearly, get enough drama at home). My first best friend from college is a guy, he's a great guy and I love him a great deal. Almost all of my friends are girls, but that's only because my school is predominantly female. But I guess the fact of the matter is I shouldn't have to justify myself in terms of my mother's hurtful remark. She wanted to get a good jab in, and she did. I'm not sure if she can even comprehend the amount of damage she did to me by saying that.
Ever since she said that I've been wondering to myself about being gay. Do people assume that since I'm gay all I care about are gay things? I can't care about anything other than being gay? I mean, I started the GSA at my school, but I did that honestly because I firmly believe that the school is better off having a safe and welcoming outlet for GLBTQ students rather than having to deal with depressed/suicidal students who have no outlet and no way of expressing themselves. It's all about student retention. But I'm not all about being gay. I'm all about being me, and doing well in school, and getting into graduate school and figuring out what the heck I want to do with my life. I'm pretty normal and boring when you get right down to it.
But what if people think I'm just gay? What if they don't see that I'm Rachel too, and I like to play the violin and I'm happiest when I'm surrounded by my friends laughter. What if they think all I am is gay, and they don't know that when I get cut I bleed too. That's the scariest part of all of this. Does my mother think all I am is gay? That I'm nothing more than a gay kid now and I am so uninterested in the rest of the world that it might as well not even exist to me.
It makes me so sad. To think I might mean nothing. To think I might mean nothing to the woman who made me something. It helps me understand why so many GLBTQ kids kill themselves. When the people you love the most in the world make you feel worthless, what else is there?
I wonder if she'll ever know how much she hurt me, or if she'll ever care.
Just have to keep moving I s'pose. Chin up and all that good stuff. Hope everyone else is having a safe, happy and productive week. This weekend is the family reunion, wish me luck.
As I get older I'm able to piece together and reflect on the damage she's done to me over the years (being a psychology major only makes my introspection worse).
A few weeks ago she accused me of not liking Naveen, which she does on a regular basis. I love Naveen, like a brother (or at least I did before the whole dabacle on my birthday), and so naturally I defended the fact that I do like Naveen, it's their relationship I have a problem with. I'm sorry but my 50-something year old mother should not be doing a 20-something year old man's laundry, giving him her brand new laptop, making his lunches for him, etc. etc., it's not a friendship it's her babying him, but that's a long story for another day.
On this particular occasion I guess my mother decided she needed to get a good jab in and take me down a few pegs, so she said something to the affect of "you don't like him because he is Indian (obviously I'm racist, and if that wasn't offensive enough), or maybe it's because he's a man. The only people you care about are gay people and the only things you care about are gay issues."
It's taken me some time to reflect on this, because it cut me REAL deep. If my mother bothered to get to know me, she'd know I'm not really big into gay issues. I'm more of a big picture kind of girl. I'm really into human issues. I care about everyone who takes a minute to talk to me, if I've met you there's a good chance I care about you. I don't really have any gay friends, most of my friends are straight (by choice for the most part, because gay kids in college are filled with drama, and I, clearly, get enough drama at home). My first best friend from college is a guy, he's a great guy and I love him a great deal. Almost all of my friends are girls, but that's only because my school is predominantly female. But I guess the fact of the matter is I shouldn't have to justify myself in terms of my mother's hurtful remark. She wanted to get a good jab in, and she did. I'm not sure if she can even comprehend the amount of damage she did to me by saying that.
Ever since she said that I've been wondering to myself about being gay. Do people assume that since I'm gay all I care about are gay things? I can't care about anything other than being gay? I mean, I started the GSA at my school, but I did that honestly because I firmly believe that the school is better off having a safe and welcoming outlet for GLBTQ students rather than having to deal with depressed/suicidal students who have no outlet and no way of expressing themselves. It's all about student retention. But I'm not all about being gay. I'm all about being me, and doing well in school, and getting into graduate school and figuring out what the heck I want to do with my life. I'm pretty normal and boring when you get right down to it.
But what if people think I'm just gay? What if they don't see that I'm Rachel too, and I like to play the violin and I'm happiest when I'm surrounded by my friends laughter. What if they think all I am is gay, and they don't know that when I get cut I bleed too. That's the scariest part of all of this. Does my mother think all I am is gay? That I'm nothing more than a gay kid now and I am so uninterested in the rest of the world that it might as well not even exist to me.
It makes me so sad. To think I might mean nothing. To think I might mean nothing to the woman who made me something. It helps me understand why so many GLBTQ kids kill themselves. When the people you love the most in the world make you feel worthless, what else is there?
I wonder if she'll ever know how much she hurt me, or if she'll ever care.
Just have to keep moving I s'pose. Chin up and all that good stuff. Hope everyone else is having a safe, happy and productive week. This weekend is the family reunion, wish me luck.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
And Keep Your Eyes Wide the Chance Won't Come Again
I'm kicking myself because Bob Dylan, THE Bob Dylan, the one and only the man himself, is PLAYING, RIGHT NOW, down the street from my house. I can HEAR HIM from my upstairs bathroom, clear as a bell.
Clearly I dropped the ball and missed the fact that Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson and John Michael Mellencamp (whom my high school health teacher taught back in Illinois, see I was listening Mrs. D!) would be in CT tonight. I feel like a fool. Now I'm scrambling to see if I can afford tickets to the three remaining shows near me in either Vermont, NY or Rhode Island, all within the next few days. Ugh, it seems hopeless, but maybe someone will want to go with me.
Clearly I dropped the ball and missed the fact that Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson and John Michael Mellencamp (whom my high school health teacher taught back in Illinois, see I was listening Mrs. D!) would be in CT tonight. I feel like a fool. Now I'm scrambling to see if I can afford tickets to the three remaining shows near me in either Vermont, NY or Rhode Island, all within the next few days. Ugh, it seems hopeless, but maybe someone will want to go with me.
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