it was after prom.
this was years ago but it was still stuck in her mind. now thirty, she sat behind the tiny knitting cafe counter she worked at, knitting and purling and watching how quickly the periwinkle fabric turned and twisted in her hands, something she could not do twelve years ago, but now taught people how to do it, as her job, along with making cappuccinos and coffees and teas and baking organic and vegan muffins. she tried not to think of the divorce proceedings that were currently occupying her life, the pregnant cat at her house, half of whose kittens would belong to her soon-to-be ex-husband.
but after the prom, they did the going to a club thing, drinking out of flasks or cheap plastic cups, then going to the beach, still drinking out of flasks or cheap plastic cups, and then going to the lady luck diner and eating eggs. one out of every four students threw up in the parking lot. they all went to their respective houses, to tell their parents they had a great time, and slept till the late afternoon. the rest of the weekend was consumed by drinking, clubs, wild hotel parties, sex, and/or takeout food.
marey woke at seven in the evening on the day after the prom, and drank two glasses of powdered iced tea upon waking. (she knew nothing of teas then, just instant and regular hot tetley. she knew nothing of herbal or steeping or antioxidants.) she called her then-boyfriend, who came over. he was acting weird, and marey knew it was over. while he sat and talked with his best friend, mostly ignoring her, she went into her backyard and swam in the pool. after she dried off, he had left. she saw his car going down the block; she had hoped he would hop in the pool, greeting her tired mouth with his warm red lips.
her best friend came over. "why did jay leave? aren't you guys going dancing?"
"i guess not. fuck these suburbs. let's leave."
marey pulled on a black summer dress over her wet bathing suit. her hair smelled of chlorine and she was glad her hair was short--it always looked good, even without combing.
krissy called jay for her while she applied coral lipstick. “what the fuck is up with ditching my best friend?” this was when it was normal for your best friend to mediate your problems with your boyfriend. jay told her nothing was wrong. (really, he was getting into drugs, coke and acid and whatever else was around, above all weed.) he told krissy he was getting high. krissy told him to clean up his act or he was going to lose marey. “i don’t give a shit,” he told krissy, which she told marey only two years later, wanting to spare her friend the pain.
after a suitable lie (marey was sleeping at krissy’s, while krissy’s mom thought she was sleeping at marey’s) they walked to the commuter train station. they were almost late for the train, and ran the last quarter mile, arriving at the station breathless. they spent their train ride talking in soft voices, not sure what to do.
“st. mark’s place. it’s the coolest.”
as soon as the train arrived in the city, they went to a drug store inside the train station. they had forgotten their lipstick. there was a condom sale, and krissy wanted to buy the discounted trojans. marey paid for her rose pink lipstick, and they left.
they wandered around the train station, studying maps, until they figured their way to the street they so desired, a street on which marey would later live, when it would be labeled “so overrated.”
they were not sure what to do once they got their. they hopped on the subway, studying the map, subtly staring at people. as they exited the subway, marey began crying. she wouldn’t say what it was about, but it was of course about a boyfriend who she didn’t really like that much anyway—but it was the fact that their ties were being severed.
they went to an all-night bagel and pizza café. marey got a sesame bagel with an inch and a half of cream cheese, while krissy got two slices of greasy pepper pizza. krissy had never been to st. mark’s and was impressed. marey had been here before—had had her back pressed tight against a doorway while making out with a guitar player from an unknown punk band two months ago, on this very street, after eating at the very same pizza and bagel café.
they ate. they drank juice in small cartons. in the bathroom, marey ignored the small baggies decorating the floor and studied herself in the mirror. too boring. she applied excess lipstick, dotted the pink color on her cheeks and rubbed, as if it were rouge. she scrunched her hair up, pushed her dress down, revealing more cleavage. the wet spots from the bathing suit had almost, but not completely, dried.
on the street, marey bought barrettes from a store that was somehow still open, even at midnight. she put them on in front of a mirror the cashier had handed her, fastening her hair back. she bought an extra pair in a different color, that she dropped into her purse.
they wandered around, between glowing embers and couples making out and drunk nyu students and loud music spilling out of clubs and shrieking of sidewalk bars and the fried food of restaurants. krissy bought a cd from a street vendor.
they sat on the curb in front of a store that had closed hours earlier. they had never smoked before but krissy bummed a cigarette off of a cop, and they passed it back and forth between each other, coughing ever-so-slightly. a couple walked past, and stopped.
later, marey would never remember what they had been discussing. they were never sure if they were a couple or just friends, but eventually, marey was kissing the girl who was a thin model (marey later saw her in cosmetic ads) and krissy made out with the tall and somewhat feminine man (who they later realized was a woman).
on the train later: omigod, are we lesbians? but for now, just kiss.
after the kissing stopped, krissy and marey continued walking. they averted their eyes, and bought a pack of cigarettes. they went into a bar and shared beers. they drank and smoked until their money ran out. then they let two law students buy them drinks, and lied about their ages. they made up an elaborate story. the boys had to leave to study for a test.
krissy and marey left the bar when it closed. they walked back to the suburban train station, skipping the subway ride for a long walk through the still-humming streets. they were tired. they bought a snapple to share, and gum to disguise their heavily nicotine breath.
“god. this is so not normal for a prom weekend.”
they got on the commuter train bound for their hometown when arriving in the station, and found the streets in the suburbs much darker, much quieter. dew covered everything. they heard their breath. unlike the city, which hummed and grew and breathed life and energy even so late, the suburbs were scary and empty. the girls ran back to krissy’s, ran the four miles. they ran into sprinklers, and constantly looked around. no one was there.
they ran into krissy’s backyard, where they climbed the tall oak to the treehouse they no longer used. it was good for times like these. stinking of nicotine and beer and sweat and even, a little on marey, chlorine, they slept until the afternoon.
and now years later, marey wondered what had happened to jay. here she was: divorced at a year when she should have been having children. she knew krissy was living in iowa, teaching kindergarten and married with two children. her husband was a children’s author. she was successful. supposedly. all of these facts had come through friends of friends, and had marey inquired further she would have learned that krissy’s husband had left her for their babysitter, and her husband got custody, and that krissy was depressed and planning on quitting teaching to travel around the world.
but somehow, none of this matters because memories are the most important.
30 December 2004
it was after prom.
29 December 2004
- drink more, go out more (be social).
- write more
- eliminate trans fat from my life
- hang out with friends i never see more
- have more orgasms, esp more sex (w/ t only)
- run more
- practice yoga more
26 December 2004
but seriously, all of the sudden, there are these terrible, boring memoirs out there that are too much. many of the people don't have writing skills, and of course, don't realize that much of their life is BORING. if you are going to write a memoir, skip all the childhood shit--yeah it influences who you are, but it's boring. and no one cares about your grandma teaching you how to crochet or your first period if it doesn't directly apply to the memoir. i skim that stuff. lately, even if i find a good memoir (rare), i end up skimming much of it.
so if you think your life is so freaking interesting, you should write a blog instead of a memoir, or get some more friends. but if you think you need to publish it in a book, read tons of memoirs, please, and see what i'm talking about. cut all the shit that is even remotely boring--and have a trusted friend read it who is a ruthless editor. study what a memoir is--you focus on a certain element of your life--your eating disorder, your addiction to mountain biking, your obsession with cats (i'm not writing a memoir about luna because words could not capture her wonder!)--and cut all the other stuff. and tons of shitty pictures don't do anything for it.
and if you still think, 'well, hmm, my idea is good but...' don't write it if you don't need to. but if you want to, why don't you fictionalize it? and when you are writing this novel, let real life influence the events, but don't limit yourself--as in, if your brother did or didn't do that, be creative and make something new happen.
now i'm going to work on a novel--that may or may not be true.
20 December 2004
19 December 2004
i guess as an asthmatic i just wish i could breathe normally. i'm in my apartment and yet i'm wheezing and coughing and generally feeling like shit (working on this stupid paper probably has something to do with the feeling like shit part). and i just wish i could breathe normally and feel good. so i just can't understand why anyone would smoke and destroy their lungs...i mean, give me your working strong lungs, take my shitty ones, then you'll know how it feels not to breathe.
i drank sangria at my friend's boyfriend's show at this beautiful soho studio--and then i'm thinking, watching people dance, how it's so amazing to be an artist b/c you offer something to people--a part of yourself. and as an artist, seeing people get excited or inspired or altered by my work--i know i've made a success. and even tho t and i beg to differ, i think of the speech at my graduation--being an artist is a higher calling.
last night went to a complacent party. www.complacent.org they are a group of artists who enjoy music, experimentation, influence of all different cultures and experiences. a lot of burning man people, artists, musicians. they usually create a really intense atmosphere--with effigies, sculptures, paintings, free body painting, random spontaneous art being created and sought out. last night the coat check room, among other things, had 4 or 5 tvs, from large to small, lined up, all playing rudolph the red nosed reindeer. emily had never seen so we got drunk while i narrated. she loved herbie. the bumble is SO cute even tho he tries to eat clarice! so i'm dancing and drinking and sweating and drinking from my friends' glasses and bottles and feeling so full of love...i meet some crazy burning man guy with fuzzy pants, dance all crazy with him. there's some obnoxious heterosexual men with fucking holly over their head (if you brought mistletoe you got $3 off the invite) and em and i keep going "that's holly." there were a lot of heterosexual men and i was so grossed out--ugh, go away. i took my hair down and whipped it in front of my face as i danced...that way they couldnt look at me and i couldnt see their beady little eyes staring at me. overall i feel disgusted at men right now and dont want anything to do with them...i did go with j. but he's the nice big bro i never had.
but bk to art. i love complacent b/c they're constantly creating and recreating and bringing together all different people and experiences. new nation was a party they threw in the summer and i cheered with the cheerleaders, danced with these indian-inspired musicians who were fucking amazing, dancing inside a sweaty crowded room, met people, got lost, felt overwhelmed by the intense atmosphere. i like to create art when i am someplace, exploding with words and feelings and an intense form of dance and omigod, everything is SO funny.
and that's the thing about art. you make it not to enjoy it yourself, but to share it. and i like to share. so here's some more of me, more of my art.
17 December 2004
so what have i been taught? i've taught i don't need to be stick-thin or a certain size to be perfect. in grade school, i was SO thin people would taunt me. skip to high school where a vegetarian track runner finds herself going, "oh doritos are vegetarian!" like those runs we'd do to the 7/11 by the train station, and eat doritos and drink the HUGE--i mean the biggest one if you've ever been to a 7/11, yeah that fucking HUGE one--slurpees on the platform, talking, gossing. and then feeling sick on the run back. and then of course my best friend is SO thin...in college she's modeling and i'm jealous. she says, "i would kill to have your tits. and look at my ass. so fat." i don't think we'll ever be satisfied. i mean, maybe men are different. t. says he's going to be bald but doesn't seem too concerned about it. m. has gray hair, started since he was in his teens. it makes him look cute.
we all have our issues. we hide behind these layers of NOT US. like makeup and rouge and lipgloss and gel and sweaters and jewelry and backpacks and books and 100% cashmere coats and whatever else is it that's really nothing more than an accessory in our lives: an accessory to us.
i remember this one time. we were lying in bed, perhaps we had just made love. we were naked, back when we lived in the dorms. i used to be one of those candy raver jewelry kids--tons of bracelets--jelly, beads, etc--necklaces, rings. hanging out with the candy ravers, exchanging bracelets and lollypops.
but then you said, "can i do something?"
i'd let you do whatever it is you wanted. you took off all my jewelry--bracelet after bracelet--bracelets half-way up my forearm; my rings, i was probably wearing a lot, my necklaces. and then you looked at me. i looked more naked. very slowly, in silence.
"now, this is you. you are so beautiful. without all that stuff. this is you."
and i knew this stuff all along but something clicked. i felt better somehow.
at the next raves i went to, i still hung out with the candy ravers, laughing at my friends, but instead of trading bracelets, i gave them away. i knew that i needed to only be true, to only stay who i am.
today i wear jewelry--what very little of it i own--but i realize that you can't hide. fancy hairstyles and all these little sidelines to your life--they're just an addition, not important. focus on you, who you are, and what you love to do.
16 December 2004
But this I will keep to myself (except for you, dear reader).
What I cannot stand is when people tell me, "Oh, you'll change your mind," "Oh you'll want to eventually," "But you'll love them when they're yours." Um, no. And don't tell me what I'll do. "I didn't want kids, but look how happy I am." No thanks.
T & I did decide if we ever want kids, we'll wait a year--so we can realize how much we like having our independence, evaluate if we can do it, see if it's more impt than having $ (t's main reason for not wanting kids is b/c it costs $$$$$).
But seriously: you may be well-meaning, but it's RUDE to ask about children and to insist someone will change their mind. Leave them alone. Ask them about their life, not the children they don't and never will have. If they do change your mind, swallow that "I told you so."
12 December 2004
i don't have PMS. i just am really cranky with everybody and everything right now, except my cat. i'm tired, i'm exhausted, i don't want to do it anymore. like putting all yr effort into a relationship that is sitting in the toilet, waiting to be flushed. i've been so negative lately, sorry.
on the up note, i'm listening to christmas music. LOVE IT! i'm going to make some cocoa later and sit by my little tree. and i'm taking off a week and a half for the holidays and am hoping to spend the bulk of it writing, with some time with family and friends too. and of course, reading a lot, esp on travel books. i can't wait to go away.
i bought a pair of sparkly blue fuzzy socks and i just put them on. i felt something strange and realized there was one of those metal fasteners in it. great.
any suggestions on how to cheer up?
10 December 2004
god i am so in the mood to be vapid. watch movies, paint my toenails, pet my cat, goss. i miss having such a scandalous life, this grownup stuff is boring.
once i'm done with hedge funds and LIS i'm going to become a drama queen again. i mean, t hasn't called me a drama queen or princess in forever (not like we talk much but when we do, you know). i'm doing something wrong.
who wants to have some fun?
doesn't that sound nice?
08 December 2004
two hipster girls in the greenpoint avenue g station at 8:39 am, 5/19/04
girl a: "he doesn't think of me that way!"
girl b: "yes he does, when he's drunk!"
"i don't have a life, i have a rash!" my coworker
"i tried british and it all sounded way constipated." my sister
if anyone asks me again, i swear i'm gonna put my foot where the sun don't shine.
who was it that said, 'you just need to get laid?' yeah what is sex anyway? i mean, seriously, i'm abt to be a nun here.
lissy--the man or the cat--choose the cat.
library school is just really draining. and i love the holidays but no one has gotten any gifts yet (except crista, which i bought months ago knowing it would be a good gift) and my tree is bare, with no gifts underneath. i'm trying to find a gift really outrageous for my mom b/c i love her and she refuses to spoil herself...but like i have time? well i can go with my boyfriend who still hasnt bought me a bday gift xmas shopping at the last minute since i'll be revising my thesis for my advisor till then.
anyway i'm cranky and damnit, i need some truffles. why dont i have any chocolate in this house?
back to my nonexciting life!
01 December 2004
30 November 2004
running is a HUGE part of my life. if i couldn't run again i would be extremely depressed. after running the marathon, i was almost sick of running but didn't bargain for having a tarsal tunnel entrapment. but it happened and i have taken a total of three weeks off from running (i ran on thanksgiving)
however it's so nice to be a normal person--not wake up two and a half or three hours before going to work so i can get a run in. on weekends, i sleep in, wake up and spend some time relaxing in bed, playing with luna and reading poetry (okay this sunday i spent it reading stupid articles on virtual library for my thesis). my doctor pronounced my foot cured, so now i can start first with fast walking, then with slow running. i have to make sure i warm up and get rid of my shoes once they start wearing (ugh, i need to go to the outlets more now, i love shopping, good thing). it'll be nice to start running, but to be honest, it was kinda nice not running for a while.
i do miss t but i'm glad he has a rad job, even if he has to live in MA (i know, poor thing!). but it is nice to have more space and be able to listen to air and letigre on repeat for 5 hours without any comments. i guess the best thing really is that i can focus on my thesis--boys are distractions, and i'm getting more work done with trev living in the middle of nowhere than i am with him in my house. i tell him, someday we'll live together, perhaps...
i really miss writing. in fact, i'm going to a lecture on sun abt getting an agent, but i miss writing. however it's nice not to think of rejections for a while. this stupid thesisis taking up most of my brain power so...
i don't mind fall/winter in the beginning so much b/c i love christmas. i LOVE running in a sports bra and shorts, but i really love the holiday season and trees and decorations and LIGHTS...i hate this consumerist crap and really, i'm not thinking of what i'm doing in five minutes, much less a holiday gift in 26 days.
someone was trying to come into my apartment and i was trying to keep them out. i kept trying to scream but i couldnt and then finally i could but none of my mean neighbors came. "he" (whoever he was, possibly a nonexistant ex-boyfriend? a lunatic def.) i kept screaming, sometimes it wasnt coming out, and he was franctically moving around my apartment. i began banging a shoe against the wall to try to muster up attention for my help but no one can. i was so frightened. i was trying to appease him but i'm not sure of the details now. i just hate being unable to scream in my dreams, so scared.
i really wish trev wasnt in ma b/c it really sucks to wake up from a nightmare and be alone. luna was there, but you know if anything happened she'd be the first to hide.
28 November 2004
btw in case you were wondering, i will prob put the interesting parts on my blog in sections after it's done. this is a horrible process. once i'm done with this, i'm going to head to the pencil factory and get myself something strong and relax. till then, my thoughts are filled with alternative libraries.
my computer is SLOW today!
it really is nice to not know what is happening in the world. i know that sounds totally ignorant but it is really overwhelming to have to follow every fucked up thing dubya is doing and how hated we are in the world. i'll start reading the news eventually, but for now, it's alternative libraries all the way.
27 November 2004
i lost my hammer and really should mop my floor and it's just you totally get caught up with things, you know?
here's a few things that happen when you write a paper you don't want to:
- you find yourself using words & phrases like "however" "according to" 'despite the undercurrents of"etc.
- you keep a nalgene bottle by your side to keep you hydrated--but to also give you many pee breaks--yay time away from the paper!
- take numerous photos of your cat and send them to people...and then they will call you so you will have to talk. and your cat is so darn cute you cant help taking photos of her! meow!
- clean out yr fridge. mop yr floor. prepare a soup or meal with many, many ingredients and whistle while you clean all of the dishes.
here's to procrastination! no, but for real, i'm going back to my thesis now.
21 November 2004
do you ever wonder why you do this all? doesn't the idea, the very concept of money and working and all this stuff--isn't it so stupid?
i've been dutifully paying off my loan, waking up at the sound of the alarm, paying my bills on time, and i'm like, why am i doing all of this again?
and then: what did i get this mfa for?
okay it's a quarter-life crisis, i admit. i'm examining my life the way it is. i don't want to live as i am now.
so i have a plan.
(t makes fun of me for my plans but it helps me stay on focus, on target. some people could learn a little organization themselves!)
my plan is in the works, and i don't want to say it now lest i back down and look like an idiot. it doesnt involve anything dangerous (tho for my mother, me walking home from the train at 11:00 pm is dangerous) but involves a whole self-examination.
the plan would begin when i graduate, but right now is the real beginning.
i'm trying not to take all this shit seriously. like, "largest banks by assets"--do i care? no. stop pretending. library school i'm just going to get by.
i want to look more within. luna helps me. i know this sounds so stupid, but luna and, we think alike and act alike.
i think she also has her period today, not physically but emotionally.
till then, stay focused and pick yr plan. you don't have to live with only 10 vacation days a year. i sure as hell dont.
20 November 2004
i dont understand why these FUNdamentalists think they are going to spread the love of jesus and are they trying to recruit people? how horrible. i am reading paul monette's "becoming a man" and it's so disgusting. i mean, i grew up in a guido suburb. i didnt bring my boyfriend to my prom (he didn't dance, and we ended up breaking up shortly after)--i brought my best friend, who is gay. i wouldnt have it any other way. (i'm a fag hag to the extreme. i dont have any close straight men--i try to keep straight men far away b/c we're friends and then one night they're trying to get in my pants, telling me that my love and i are both air and i need some fire--no thanks. but anyway, i brought mike to the prom and we had SO much fun--i love that boy. and afterwards, someone said something abt my boyfriend--i said, "he's not my boyfriend, he's my best friend." oh. somehow it came out that he was gay...the reaction from the guidos (i'm italian but i went to a guido school, even the ones who were not italian) was appalling--saying how they wouldve kicked his ass had they known. why is it so threatening to them? why? it makes me want to move to a "red" state and talk about how much i love to eat pussy in the town greene--but sadly i'd prob get pushed out or killed. it is disgusting that these ignorant attitudes still exist.
i love fairies of all kinds.
i think there's also a lot of straight people--and in the closet people--who won't speak up when homophobic and antigay things are said. my suitemates always used "gay" to mean "stupid." gay, as far as i known, meant happy, and now, homosexual. anyway, my suitemates would say "that shirt is so gay," "that's so gay!" etc and i'd always so "is it homosexual?" they would laugh at me, but i always said it. they werent homophobic--but i still think we need to rethink the way we word things.
i'm so gay today! i was kidding my love all morning, and now we have a play to go to tonight. what a marvelously gay day!
that's a proper usage of gay.
back to the protestors. why were they protesting? it was at a high school. maybe there was a play with a gay character--lissy didnt give me a lot of details, i'm not really sure. i dont think she knew. all i know is that is hate, not love.
and religion supposedly is based on love.
go kiss your nearest gay/lesbian/bisexual/trans friend.
it's a book of stories. in nearly every story, a woman in pregnant and has just been left or she just had a baby or a small child and her husband divorced her for a younger woman. or there's an older married couple and the wife has an affair. why cant anyone just love one person? i mean, monogamy sucks, that's what i wouldve said when i was 18, but now it's just annoying. i think jane did some poll of their readers and a really high percentage (i forgot what right now) had cheated on their spouse. i know everyone makes mistakes but cant the characters in our books be a little less slutty? i'm depressed now. i'm going to watch "lost in translation." wait no, i need to do my thesis.
but the stories are really good. some of them are cheesey, and i really did not like the first one. but many of them are terrific, really grabs you in and keeps you. altho i dont want to have kids or cheat on my love, it's still a good read.
18 November 2004
This link is Library Humor. V, you will love this. The library stories are so funny, and of a variety. I love the sexy librarian--because that's what I am.
I love Jonathan Ames. He is hilarious.
If you click here daily in all the categories (Big Cats, Oceans, Violence, etc) your click will provide $ for a good cause.
17 November 2004
i'm tryin to save the world. wanna help?
16 November 2004
It's fluffy like a sweater.
My blood ain't blue, it's redder
The thought of Freedom makes me wetter.
My Bush smells sweeter
Not like his stinky peter.
A Puppet, a repeater
He'll never be my leader.
My Bush looks cuter.
Not like his prezzy pooter.
So full o' shit, needs a roter-rooter.
Fuck that stupid war recuiter!
This is a great cheer I love - attributed to the Phoenix Menstrual Menace!
so you know about the help of the old polish woman in greenpoint who helped me walk home from the pharmacy, but i have encountered some other angels too. i know you're gagging, andrew, but listen to me, okay? i have been worried about rush hour b/c you always don't get a seat. i've mostly been lucky, but i've had so many people just randomly offer to give me their seat in the past week, who just get up. and normally, this kind of stuff doesn't happen so often.
today some woman offered me her seat. i refused at first (she was 60). she said "no you need to relax." i told her "thanks" and accepted her offer. i told her i hurt my foot, and she said "see i knew you needed to sit. just think of me as your guardian angel."
15 November 2004
okay so i'm having a quarter-life crisis. i found this terrific website http://www.handbag.com/careers/careerprogression/quarterlifecrisis/ that assures me i am not alone.
three of the people i love most live across the country--WI, MA, CO. my job is okay but, HELLO, I'M A NAROPA GRADUATE AND DOING CORPORATE? i'm so burned out from too many years of school. i'm 25 and will have two graduate degrees BEFORE i'm 26. i think i need a break.
i want to give up my apt, put all my stuff in storage, find a good home for luna for a few months, and travel. go someplace different. go on a writing retreat and write and read and chill for a few months.
i'm having a quarterlife crisis.
when you are younger you think, "oh i'm going to be married by the time i'm 21 and have a fabulously successful career where i make a difference and get a great salary and i'll have some kids and..." now i'm not married, i have met a wonderful person but we don't even live in the same state, i hate children and never want kids--i'm thiinking about getting another cat....and i'm in debt and once i leave my job i will have a serious problem living alone..perhaps t will actually live with me again...
i have 15,000$ in loans, a cat who enjoys eating and driving me nuts, too much schoolwork to even think about, a super-humid refrigerator...okay so my life isn't really so bad but i'm like, what am i doing to change the world? i'd like to leave this country, and i might...but i probably won't. i need to stay here so i can make a difference HERE. like make sure roe v. wade isn't overturned and spread radical cheerleading across this country...
okay enough bitching. back to my cranky old life...
asthma sucks. i'm coughing like crazy. i hate all these smokers smoking in front of you. i want to say, "hey don't smoke right now to me, i have asthma and i can't breathe anyway." my personal favorite: those fools who smoke at the side of a track. i remember coughing during the 800 at one of the red tracks on LI b/c some guy had to smoke a cigar right next to my lane. grrrr. i think i was starting California Style or something.
the beauty of winter
anyway it's cold at my job and i'm realizing it's winter and i'm kinda liking the fact that we are all in this together...like all the cute hipster girls with their pink pompom hats slung low over their ears and the too-cool men in just a leather jacket (a warmer option than what they had on a week earlier) and mothers with too many kids and missing mittens...and the smell of hot apple cider through the farmer's market and soon we'll smell evergreen--damnit, i'm going to get an evergreen wreath this year so my bedroom will smell delicious...and with the first snows, how clean and beautiful nyc looks and i love how it sparkles...and when you're kissing the one you love and it's snowing and your mouths are so hot and you create your own pocket of warmth within the freezing city you call home...and when you're baking cookies with your mother and fighting with your sister and she pushes you down in the snow, keeps pushing you down, and really, if you weren't laughing hysterically you could probably stand up...and then it's january and then february and for kicks you go with your friend to a singles bar and he says to you "everyone here is leftovers" and he feels terrible so you take him out for a drink and he starts crying at the bar so you leave and you hold his hand,not knowing what to say, as your cell phone rings and it's your love but you don't answer it because that would be mean. and then your friend throws a snowball at a stop sign, and you remember your friend who is looking to be fixed up, and say, "wait, i know what will make you better."
and suddenly you're wearing a bikini on the beach, but hello, it's spring break.
14 November 2004
Intellectual Freedom Links:
Freedom to Read Statement:
ALA is so determined for unrestricted access to anyone at all public, academic and school libraries. Sure you get these conservative freaks who think we're interested in pushing porn to kids, but seriously, it's about being able to get whatever it is you want (that's legal) and having no one tell you NO.
“Intellectual Freedom is the right of every individual to both seek and receive information from all points of view without restriction. It provides for free access to all expressions of ideas through which any and all sides of a question, cause or movement may be explored. Intellectual freedom encompasses the freedom to hold, receive and disseminate ideas.” — Intellectual Freedom and Censorship Q & A
Okay so I'm a nerdy librarian but whatever, it's a great job--I get to help people and make a difference. Right now researching Merrill Lynch and all that--I look at it as my "afterschool job" (only I'm working full-time). Whenever I leave, I am going to--YES I AM--find a job someplace else.
It's weird how most of the people in my life work in jobs where they are helping people. Even if it's creative, they're helping people. My parents are teachers, my sister and boyfriend are studying to be scientists (Lissy will save the bugs of the world!), my friends are in school or are librarians, library workers (Did I mention ALA and library world is a great way to meet friends), writers, revolutionaries, social workers, etc. We're gonna change the world, damnit! And I'll help everyone do the research to do it.
Any questions? Ask Radical Reference: www.radicalreference.info the raddest group of radical librarians!
i dont know abt you, but i'm not able to cook elaborate meals, other than on weekends. (today i had apple pancakes for breakfast, and i'm making pasta fagioli.) here's my quick fix.
almond banana yogurt dish
yogurt (plain or vanilla...i prefer brown cow cream top, yum!)
banana (i always have bananas and am forever eating brown ones b/c i dont eat them in time)
slice the banana. pour some yogurt. throw on however many almonds you want. this is a great afternoon snack.
you can also substitute with another kind of fruit. i'd recommend if you were adding apples (yum) to add walnuts instead of almonds. i always keep a bunch of nuts in my house for quick protein.
lovely autumnal oatmeal
1 apple (whatever type you like)
make oatmeal according to package. (do yrself a favor and get the old fashioned--it's SO much better.) when most of the water is gone but not all (like 3 minutes) add the apple. if you like raisins (i'm not a big raisin person in cereal) add the raisins now too. cook till it's done, then add brown sugar, walnuts, milk. stir and eat. so so good.
clean the cabinets soup
throw on some water--the more you add for the more people and more crap in your fridge. figure out the correct proportions with your handy bouillion cubes. (i always keep a bunch of these in my cabinet--they're so useful.) then, add celery, carrots, cauliflower, pasta, whatever else you want. eat.
green peppers (or whatever kind you like, i only like green)
basically whatever else you like to add to salads...and....
sunflower seeds, pecans, whatever kind of nuts you like.
add a light (by light i mean not heavy not lowfat altho you can do that too) vinagrette. eat.
13 November 2004
anyway, i'm wearing yoga pants and a sports bra, hardly sexy but comfy. i'm in clothes, somewhat. it's a step up from the robe i'm usually wearing.
anyway my goal is to get across that sex is good, being sexy is very good, and being gay is wonderful! people just need to love themselves for who they are! you can't hate yourself because you don't belong in a little box...most people don't.
aright back to writing abt sexy gay libraries. i think i'm going to just write about sex now, to me, that's the best part of library school: that you can write abt sex all the time and have it relate to libraries. can an entomology student do that? well i guess related to beetles or whatever...
i'm fucking cranky. i have PMS forever this month. i'm listening to all this cutsey babydyke music and i realize, yup i am a librarian and live alone, except for my beautiful cat. i'm doing research on censorship, not finding the articles i need, but it is sick the way people are. like, check this out:
Conn. Family-Diversity Program Stirs Spat
American Libraries 33 no4 22, 24 Ap 2002
A program created to inspire a community dialogue in Groton, Connecticut, has erupted into a fight over what constitutes age-appropriate materials. The controversy revolves around a series of middle-school field trips to Groton Public Library to view the March 4-27 exhibit "In Our Family: Portraits of All Kinds of Families" because three of the 20 photos on display were of same-sex couples and their children. Concerned parents could deny permission for their child to participate.
let's freak out. omigod, people are gay. among my friends i dont think i know anyone who's straight. my "bf" might be but really, who is straight anymore? why identify as anything anyway? so you can check a little box? so people know who to hate? everything is making me sick right now.
but meanwhile my friend j, who i'm not sure if she checks any box, she def likes one sex that i know of, but we're going to a movie today and will gawk at the beautiful star, if nothing else.
i have a headache and just want to curl up in my bed. people like tom coburn exist. ugh i went to his website last night, reading aloud parts to v, and we both cringed. wtf?! and these religious freaks who want to ban harry potter b/c it might cause people to want to become wizards.
here's something from my term paper:
Books are banned for a variety of reasons, including:
§ Violence and horror.
§ Religion and Witchcraft
§ Substance use/abuse
§ Suicide or Death
§ Crude Behavior (Curry, 30-32).
wait i dont have pms. i mean, i just am in a cranky mood for a variety of reasons. you cannot live for someone else. i've learned that. v, we need to stick to this...we are living for us! speaking of which, let's become traveling librarians and LEAVE.
goddess i'm feeling all these different things right now. my apt is abt 100 degrees, just the way I like it. heh heh.
this is how i closed my term paper: While we can remove books from the library if we think it will protect children, we must remember: censoring a library creates a one-sided society, with material to the liking of some, not all. Perhaps if we cover children’s eyes we can protect them from locating books that are not to their parents’ liking. However, without an abundance of choices, children will find it even more difficult to make educated decisions when they become adults. Variety is necessary for any library, society, mind, and person, and without the full spectrum of choices, both people and creativity will suffer.
okay so i should get off my butt and start finding some freakin articles. research is hard on this topic. i'm mad right now. mad at a lot of things. i'm going to just withdraw, curl up with my kitty and read jonathan ames...yup i like books abt men who wear bras!
back to censorship. someone prob tried to ban ames, do yrself a favor and read a banned book today!
12 November 2004
What to do if a book is challenged:
Read a banned book today! Support these authors and the library's decision to have these books!
11 November 2004
Fifty feminist quotes, courtsey of the Chicago Women's Liberation Union:
this quote is awesome:
I have a brain and a uterus, and I use both. - Former Congresswoman Patricia Schroeder
check em out:
Memo to Sore Losermen
But especially, read, Perverse Pleasure is the Best Revenge
Oooh, this one is soooooooo funny. It's all about makin the read mad.
um, we have 4 more years of dubya. i cant deal with this.
i don't want to just give up but i feel like this is too depressing, too much. i'm going to focus on spreading cheerleading squads and making sure a woman's right to choose is preserved.
meanwhile i have friends talking of leaving the country and i am sick of all this "we can do it..." i feel low on energy. maybe it's that i just ran a marathon and to me that is so life-changing.
i am taking a break from politics. i'm not reading the papers right now (um, if you are working full-time and going to school full-time you wouldn't be either) and am taking a break from getting so absorbed. it's about me for a little while.
but when i'm ready...you betta watch out.
then in college, discovering social change for women. discovering who i was. discovering radical feminism. not shaving my legs. loving paddie kilrain. loving the butchess, bitch and animal, kaia. omigod kaia. liz's radio show. dancing like a fool, wearing the slutties clothes but snubbing all the boys. "sex doesn't exist in a vacuum." making signs with danielle before the women's studies conference of 97. "it's not like there are dominatrixes teaching classes here. oh yeah, um, well, um...safe sane & consensual s&m. sex toys. lesbians! omigod, fire the president! whatever."
all the more reason to attend suny-new paltz.
but seriously: those were the days. the wild days and now here i am, working at a corporate library, being dangerous by wearing sneakers, researching goldman sachs and reading about people who are worth $100 million when me, i'm wearing hand-me-downs and old clothes. i could wear something nicer, but...i want to be free.
thinking of applying for a writing retreat..i'd have to put my stuff in storage for a few months, stuff luna up in massachussets...wait no, trev is never there anyway. damn, my poor kitty. maybe she can come to the azores.
god, i just want to escape sometimes.
but i'm remembering wearing way too much lipstick and throwing glitter and running around and take back the night and outscreaming the screamers, and where am i? why did i do my mfa? i cannot forget.
don't worry i'm just listening to old cds, bringing me back in time, trying to get to my roots and realize where i've been and where i'm going...
Cherry Bomb Lyrics
Can't stay at home, can't stay at schoolOld folks say, ya poor little foolDown the street I'm the girl next doorI'm the fox you've been waiting for Hello Daddy, hello MomI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bombHello world I'm your wild girlI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bombStone age love and strange sounds tooCome on baby let me get to youBad nights cause'n teenage bluesGet down ladies you've got nothing to lose Hello Daddy, hello MomI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bombHello world I'm your wild girlI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bombHello Daddy, hello MomI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bombHello world I'm your wild girlI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bombHey straight girl what's your styleYour daddy's dreams don't make you smileI'll give ya something to live forHave you, grab you 'til you're sore Hello Daddy, hello MomI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bombHello world I'm your wild girlI'm your ch ch ch ch ch cherry bomb
but my calves...wow. since living in CO over a mile above sea level, the veins slowly rose to the surface. those perfect calves i had when i was 20---gone. oh well. the veins are showing my strength.
whenever i wear trouser socks, they cut off the circulation in my leg and create welts in my calves. they're too big now.
09 November 2004
written especially for andrew...andrew, not quite as funny as glp, but...
so i ran the nyc marathon on sun. it was a wonderful, amazing experience. yesterday i went to work, and had trouble climbing the stairs at work and on the subway. not just the soreness but i realized my foot was injured. i iced it, but it still hurt. i woke up this morning and my foot hurt. i called in sick and made an appointment at a podiatrist four blocks away from me. i spent the morning hobbling around my apartment when necessary, and making cds for venessa on my favorite dyke bands (drag king bar? yes!) and doing searches in lexisnexis for class.
so i go to this doctor and he takes photos of my foot (with some special machine, ultrasound perhaps) and presses my foot--you know, the "does this hurt? how about here? does it hurt here? over here?" YES GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY FOOT!
so then he tells me i have tarsal tunnel entrapment--posterior tibial nerve. basically a tarsal is trapped in a place where it shouldnt be. good thing i went b/c the pain and entrapment can travel up your foot.
he tells me he needs to give me a shot that will take the pain away, and i'm to take these pills. fine. i tell him i'm afraid of needles.
so he sticks in the needle right in my foot. now, i've had a ton of injuries (comes along with being a runner when you have feet as messed up as mine) and i've had a cortizone shot directly in the bone--but nothing has hurt as much as this. i was screaming, gripping the chair arms, closing my eyes..."ow, ow, ouch this hurts! FUCK! sorry, i didn't mean...omigod, this hurts so bad...are you done yet? please hurry up...i didn't mean to me. this hurts SO bad, please, hurry up, omigod, ow, are you done yet?" i have a low tolerance for needles. it hurt like crazy.
so then he xrays me, gives me a prescription, and sends me on my way. i go to the pharmacy, drop off my meds and tell the i need them quickly. i'm kind of limping, but i'm somewhat okay. i drop off my shirt at the cleaners and then come back. then it hits me.
i feel woozy. i can barely stand. rows of incense and cards in polish and natural soaps and toothpastes and flosses...my foot is killing me, this is all i can think about. i tell them, "please hurry up i'm in pain." i get my medicine and i make it halfway down the aisle. i am in too much pain to continue.
they get me some water and tell me to take my medicine and sit as long as i want. after a few minutes, i am not feeling better but get up. i tell them i'm okay. i walk outside.
i pause a few feet away. i am in so much fucking pain. i walk a few more feet and want to cry. where is someone to help me? even a hipster who last washed his hair when kerry was supposed to be president...no, no one. an older woman sees me. "you need help?"
i must look like a lunatic. "i went to the doctor...he gave me a shot...it hurts so bad, i've never felt pain like this ever...a shot in my foot, i can't walk...omigod, this hurts so badly..."
she makes me take her arm and she helps me down the block.
she stops a man and they converse with polish. she gestures that he should help lift me up. she is about sixty, older probably. he holds up a hand that is wrapped in a bandage.
"he's lazy," she tells me. "we're okay, let's find someone strong." hipsters pass, but they are not strong. "no, we need somene strong."
we cross kent. we walk a few feet and i am trying so hard not to cry. she finds some polish guy, he's big and he doesn't say a word to me in english. i hold myself up as they drag me down the block. he leaves us off after a block and we continue. two more blocks. she helps me walk home. she smells like cigarette. i have never felt pain like this.
i am almost crying as i hop past a bodega. she holds onto me.
a block from my house, she tells me she really should go. she says she'll help me home tho. i don't want to impose. i tell her to go. she looks doubtful. i press her, "go, i'm okay, only a block from home. please. you have helped me so much already. thank you, thank you so much." i give this woman a hug, this woman whose name i don't know, who is at least thirty-five years older than me, two inches shorter than me, this woman who speaks with a thick accent and smells strongly of cigarettes. i love her. i hug her. she tells me to be careful and rest. i hobble, hop, pause, take my time.
at home, i hop awkwardly to my second floor apartment (this is why i don't do walkups above the third floor). i hop into bed, clutching my foot. "omigod, this hurts, this hurts, this hurts." now i can cry. i read blackbook and talk on the phone with my parents. the pain abates after about 4 hours but i still have difficulty walking now.
so the people that say new york city is an angry, rude city...i have had too many experiences with guardian angels in this city to agree.
“Far worse than Seasonal Affect Disorder is having Bush as President. I think he’s more damaging than sun-muting winter skies. He’s like an eclipse. Every time I think of him in office I lose serotonin. I will dub this syndrome: Bush Affect Disorder. And it’s going to last, I’m afraid, for four years, and maybe eight. This is very, very BAD. No wonder he’s so into prescription drugs. I’m sure he’s into the pockets of the pharmaceutical companies. Antidepressant profits during his administration are going to skyrocket!”
08 November 2004
so i did it. i finished my first marathon. my time, well, i was hoping for better but considering:
- i hadn't done any speed workouts;
- i didn't eat much breakfast, which made me extremely lightheaded in mile 17;
- i went out WAY too fast;
- iot was hot
i did pretty damn good.
on the bus, i met these really awesome women, jill and abby, and hung out with them. a woman mistakenly told us as the top 3000 women we would be going off with the professional women at 935--thank god she was wrong! i would've been trampled by the men.
our bus driver got lost. he drove from battery park to the brooklyn battery park and back over the brooklyn bridge. um...what? then he started driving uptown. some woman gave him directions. luckily we had plenty of time.
abby, jill, another woman, and i stretched, tried to eat. i peed a hundred and nine times. i was so excited and nervous. my goal time of 4:40 would be hard... i could barely jog--there were 36,000 people in the park.
b/c we were the first 3,000 women, we started on the left side of the verrazano--the pro men were on the other side. pro women went off at 935, and sadly, deena kastor, my fave runner, dropped out.
it was beautiful. the entire park was filled with runners, as the bridge. i couldnt stop smiling for the first 15 miles.
i am in love with 4th avenue. there were bands, crowds of shouting people. the best part? slapping little kids' hands as i ran by.
i felt like a hero.
bedford ave was a bit quieter, esp the hassidic jewish section. they just stared. in the southside, somebody gave me some candy. i scooped up oranges, sucking candies. at every water stop, i gulped down water.
trevor said it was 68 degrees. i have never been so thirsty when running.
i was smiling like a fool. "you looked like the happiest person in the race," rachelle said. i was, especially when i saw rachelle's sign. and my mom's sign, and trevor's. the oranges my mom gave me in mile 7, and mile 17, saved me.
ed met me before the 59th st bridge. i felt so ill and dizzy. i almost fell. ed kept me going. ed, i love you. you are the best friend. supposed to drop out at 125th st, the boy ran with me till we were in central park.
at mile 17, great to see my family. i fell shortly after, dizzy. soon, i indulged in goo. i am in love with strawberry banana power gel. soooooooo good. saved me.
gatorade upsets my tummy. tried to take a little.
whoever gave me the hard sucking candy in the bronx, and the gummy bears on 5th avenue, i love you.
i love the water station attendees. i have never been so thirsty. i love my nalgene.
the dizzy period of miles 16-18 were the worst (except when i saw my parents, trish and trev), and the bronx was hard. boogydown bronx, you killed me.
i didn't think the hills were so evil. somebody smack me. nyc is supposed to be a hard course, but i just thought the distance was hard.
on 5th avenue, i almost choked on the aforementioned gummy bear, and fed off the crowd's energy. into central park, i began picking off people. it was so crowded. i ran fast, faster. a smile was once again glued on my face. as i finished, i was so emotional.
then the sobs make you walk a mile to leave. i had my medal, and my little foil wrap to keep me warm. i kept swaying and falling on top of other people.
i got my bag from the ups truck and called my parents. i met them outside, and saw trev with his sign, my mom with her hot pink glitter sign and balloons, trish with her hugs, and met tired ed. i was so happy and so proud. sure i wish i ran faster but the thing abt running is you never know how it will go. i was proud of being strong, and feeling great for most of it. running would be a bad sport to bet on.
my parents took trev and i out to sea, and when i came home i took a nap. my mom woke me up, i couldn't fall asleep so i ate chocolate, straightened up the house while hobbling, and then fell back asleep.
trev gave me a sports massage, during which i screamed. my right foot, on the inner side towards the ankle, is swollen and hurting.
still i'm so happy. i can't believe i did it.
so crista, yes, i'll do a marathon with you. i think we should do a spectator-intensive marathon. god, i can't believe i had a smile for most of my race.
thanks so much everyone for everything. i love you all, you volunteers and friends and family and loves. now i need to recover.
what i learned
- run more speed workouts
- go out slower
- carry goo
- carry gummy bears and hard candies
- eat breakfast before the race
shoutouts to ed for running 8 miles with me, illegally; mom & dad for the oranges; trish for helping my parents from getting lost; trev for the goo handoff; cathleen for the best cheerer; rachelle for making greenpoint a happy place; 4th avenue for rocking so hard; and everybody else who called me, cared, sent flowers, and love--thank you.
complete race results via the official site of the ing nyc marathon http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/raceday/index.php
ny times article abt the marathon: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/11/08/sports/08women.html?oref=login
want to know how a specific participant or group ran? try this! http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/training/simulation.html
ramaala's victory http://www.nytimes.com/2004/11/08/sports/sportsspecial/08men.html
results: look up yr favorite athlete, or friend, or me! http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/results/results.html
complete marathon coverage from the NY Times http://www.nytimes.com/sports/sportsspecial/index.html
04 November 2004
IS IT FASCISM?
common to all of these regimes are which of the following conditions?
- powerful and continuing nationalism
- disdain for the recognition of human rights
- identification of enemies/scapegoats as a unifying cause
- supremacy of the military
- rampant sexism
- controlled mass media
- obsession with national security
- religion and government are intertwined
- corporate power is protected
- labor power is suppressed
- disdain for intellectuals and the arts
- obsession with crime and punishment
- rampant cronyism and corruption
- fraudulent elections
Okay America, what then is this?
- PROJECT FOR THE NEW AMERICAN CENTURY
It’s Okay to Be Gay!
A Reading List
- Two Teenagers in Twenty: Writings by Gay and Lesbian Youth edited by Ann Heron (YA Nonfiction—305.9H) Forty-three teens from all over the country talk about how being gay has affected their lives. Each teen’s experiences differ, and each reader will find themselves identifying with different essays. Gay and lesbian teens will realize that they are not alone.
- The National Youth Advocacy Coalition http://www.nyacyouth.org/index.html The National Youth Advocacy Coalition’s website provides lots of information for those questioning their sexuality. It provides lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered and queer youth with links to different websites, hotlines, support groups, health centers, legal resources, school resources, as well as a place where teens can get involved in the policies and laws that affect LGBTQ people.
- Young Gay America http://www.younggayamerica.com/index.shtml This interactive and colorful website is for LGBTQ teens—teens can post articles, find honest information about sex, ask for advice and read others’ questions and answers, and check out other links, personals, forums and interviews with LGBTQ youth.
- GLBTQ: The Survival Guide for Queer and Questioning Teens by Kelly Huegel (YA Nonfiction—306.76H) GLBTQ is an excellent book written for teens who are unsure of their sexuality, wanting to come out, or wanting to learn more about GLBTQ lifestyle. The casual and hip language makes this book interesting and informative, and it’s designed for browsing, so you don’t need to read the whole thing—just pick whatever section interests you. There are also tons of resources in the back—names of other books, websites, hotlines, support groups, etc.
- Am I Blue?: Coming Out from the Silence by Marion Dane Bauer (YA Fiction—Bauer) Am I Blue is the first fiction anthology for Young Adults on gay and lesbian teens coming out. Francesca Lia Block, Nancy Garden, Lois Lowry, C.S. Alder, and other gay and non-gay authors have written realistic stories about teens who realize that they are gay.
- Annie on My Mind by Nancy Garden (YA Fiction—Garden) Annie on My Mind is a novel dealing with many of the problems that two lesbian teens encounter, but also deals with their romance. Annie and Liza come from two different backgrounds but become close and inseparable friends, and eventually discover their romantic feelings towards each other. Trouble follows when their love is discovered.
- Rainbow Boys by Alex Sanchez (YA Fiction—Sanchez) From coming out to falling in love to worries about HIV to homophobia, this book will speak to teens about many of the issues impacting them and the people in their lives. If you like Rainbow Boys, you can follow Nelson, Kyle, and Jason into the sequel, Rainbow High.
- Beautiful Thing (DVD and VHS—“Beautiful Thing”) This coming out movie focuses on two high school boys, Jamie and Ste. Jamie faces bullies and homophobia in school, and Ste escapes from his abusive and unhappy house into Jamie’s arms, while both slowly coming to terms with their sexuality. A romance, without being gushy.
- Lesbian Favorites: Women Like Us—Various Artists (YA CD—Various Artists) Whether you like pop, rock, folk, or any of the other kinds of music on here—from k.d. lang to Ani DiFranco to Dar Williams to Jill Sobule, this variety album is full of lesbian-friendly songs. If anything, this will give listeners a taste of different musicians to check out.
- Talking in the Dark: A Poetry Memoir by Billy Merrell (YA Nonfiction—811M) This book of poems about Billy Merrell’s life deals with his parents’ divorce, a friend dying of AIDS, and his own acceptance of his homosexuality. For the reader interested in poetry, as well as those is interested in other people’s experiences—this is for you.
Note: LGBTQ stands for Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgendered Queer, and GLBTQ stands for Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgendered Queer.