Thanksgiving Rituals

One of the few traditions in my family is that, every Thanksgiving, we hold hands at the table and say what we are thankful for that year. I realize this is a fairly common tradition, but we have so few that I cling to it rather tightly. I am not at home this Thanksgiving (well, not at that home, at least) and so I wrote this on my school plan, and thought it would do well here as well. It's from the gut, late at night, so ignore the over-the-top sentimentality and the lack of analysis.

Happy Thanksgiving Week to everyone... though this is a celebration rooted in oppression and murder, I think it is worthwhile to take a day, any day, to give thanks for the many blessings each of us has. Especially us, who live in comfortable surroundings as we pursue higher education in the company of wise and wonderful women who challenge, inspire, frustrate and delight us, we have so much to be thankful for.

I, for one, am thankful for the lunchtable (my gang of friends) as a whole, and for each member individually. I am thankful for the professors who have tolerated and pushed me, and perhaps even for those who have royally pissed me off. I am thankful for our school's founder and the many women and men who have come after her to ensure that my college was and still is a top-notch institution of learning for women, and especially to the adult student program which opened up the gates to us old folks.

Obviously, I am thankful for the BGF's presence in my life, as well as for the many women (and some men) who came before and prepared me for this love, for this new life I feel is beginning. I am thankful for the hurts I have felt, and for the lessons I have learned, because they continue to instruct and inform me as much as my hopes and my dreams do, which seems to be working pretty well.

I am thankful to be living in a country where I am, for the most part, free, where I am not restricted in my movements, dress and employment because of gender, and where I have recourse under the law in most circumstances when my rights are denied or taken away. I am also thankful to live in a country where, when I protest the areas where the above is not true, such as the Patriot Act and other fascist nonsense, I am not likely to be killed, tortured, or "disappeared," though I may well be painted as a "traitorous hippy."

I am thankful for my health, for even with my nagging neck pain and my migraines, my high blood pressure and my bad skin, I have movement, sight, hearing, taste, smell, and the ability to give and receive pleasure, which not all have. I am thankful for even the mediocre health care I have received in this country, aware that those in other countries would find my meager resources to be extravagant.

Finally, I am thankful for my higher power, without which I would be back in the same miserable world I slid into after high school, working low-wage jobs, high on drugs, and going from one lousy abusive relationship to another. It is because of God that I escaped that world, and because of God that I was able to find this community, and for that, I am truly, truly grateful.

There is so much more I can think of to say, but now, it's your turn: What are *YOU* thankful for?
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This message was brought to you by the letter T (for Turkey) and the number 8 (pounds I'll gain this Thanksgiving)

The Other Shoe

This was written a few days ago:
Okay - we like the "getting everything we want and everything going our
way" thing, but now we're scared of the "nothing is ever this good for us,
what's going to happen to fuck it all up?" Hmph. Maybe I just don't know
how to be happy. Well, looks like I'm gonna have to learn.

UPDATE: Sometimes, when the other shoe doesn't drop fast enough for us
cynical pessimistic types, we go rattling the rafters and force one to
drop. Yep, I emailed The Evil One. And yep, reading her response was like
a knife twisting in my gut. Though... not really. Well, it's like a memory
of a knife twisting in my gut, like seeing it on a movie screen and just
remembering how it felt when it was me. She and her
"best-friend-turned-wife" are celebrating their one-year in December, she
made sure to tell me - LIKE I WOULDN'T REMEMBER *THAT*! And she's gone
back to grad school, blah, blah, blah... I don't know. I guess that, after
the knife-memories settle down, what's left is the realization that she is
better off with this girl, that this girl seems to be really good for her,
and clearly neither of us were meant to have some sort of long-distance
thing with each other. I can't say that it wouldn't have been good under
different circumstances, but the circumstances were what they were. And
now we are both happy, with partners that we love and who love us, and
doing well. I want to be happy for her, and for the most part I am. But
that doesn't do anything to stop that phantom-knife that's twisting in my
gut... Course, to tell the truth - I feel that way about all of my exes,
ones I left and who left me - I guess I am just selfish, and want them to
pine away for me even as I move on and away... okay, character flaw
identified, I feel better, now I'm off to finish my laundry.

Gushy Stuff

This was on my plan at school, and I thought it should be in my journal before I erase it:
I never understood what people meant when they said "she brings out the
best in me," but I do now. I am a better person with her in my life. It's
amazing.

And this, this is what she just emailed me, and this is as good a way as any to describe how happy and content and amazed I am at the miracle this relationship is turning out to be.

I just want to tell you how wonderful you are and how meaningful it is to
me that we share so much on many different levels.
I love talking to you, getting to know you more and more, spending time
with you, feeling you and your life, your energy and spirit, around me and
in my life.
Thank you for sharing this incredible ride with me.
I can't belive how much, how intrinsically, I want to know you. Every day
in the future is a day I can't wait for, a day I get to know you more.
I feel so full of love there are tears in my eyes. I have no words with
which to describe the intensity of this feeling but it is powerful and with
it, I overflow.
I hope you have a wonderful day.

Okay, that's enough of that for now. Non-Gushy update to come.

No Comment


Victims are tied into you and stretched inch by agonizing inch, until they are either rent limb from limb or they confess. Or hey, maybe both. Not as bad as some people, someone tells you what you want to hear you'll feel better.

What torture would you be?

Still Here

I've just been insanely busy, happy and sad, working and dating, trying to keep my head above water even as I continue to fall. But here's a few tidbits that I've spit out here and there... sorry, the porn poem won't be making it up though.

Haiku of Debauchery
Party irony:
Some things better left unsaid
Yet bear repeating.
***************************************

It's sort of like finding just the right piece of the puzzle, after trying
to fit a dozen other pieces that *looked* right, or *seemed* to fit, or
*should* have been the one... it's that satisfying little "click" the
piece makes when placed with it's match, the seam barely visible where
they touch and wrap around each other. That's what it's like.
***************************************************************************************
And here's one stolen from everyone's favorite poet to quote when sappily in love, Kahlil Gibran:

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
As the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you
So shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth
So is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses
Your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and
Shake them in their clinging to the earth.
- from The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran

Oh, And One More Thing
HELL YEAH!

I got an 88 on my Latin exam! (other one was 92, so I've got an A average for exams!)

And my History professor emailed the class out of the blue with a one-day extension for our paper! WooHoo!

So life is good. In oh, so many ways.

Moody

I am quite wrapped up on the inside... feeling sadness and fear and doubt and mistrust, struggling to keep those feelings separate from the tiny kernels of trust and contentment and love that I have recently found... last night was odd, we seemed distant, yet close.. I went over after babysitting, late at night, not much time to connect and to settle, and then intimacy, and then sleep, and then wake up, and then go to work, and I am left wondering what the fuck I'm doing here, and why I am allowing myself to fall for someone again, much less a young, gorgeous, charming wit who could easily dump me and move on to greener pastures in a moment's notice.

Even the sweet romantic things she says and does scare me, because what if that is just how she is, if that is just what she gives to her lover because it fulfills her image of being in love? What if these are all well-rehearsed parts that were just waiting for the right actors?

I guess I am suffering the results of having simultaneously contradictory belief systems, namely, that I don't want to be just one of many possibilities, I want to be special, to elicit unique responses and previously unknown reactions, but at the same time, I don't think there is "the one", and that there are always at any given time a number of people with whom you can have a succesful relationship, if not me, then another.

AGH. Ugh. Guh! I don't even know what I'm saying here... just trying to get some of this out... god, so much fear, so much fear, so much fear. And I want to say something all profound like that if it was right, there wouldn't be this much fear, cuz that sounds so romantic, but I don't know... maybe fear is just as romantic? Or at least more realistic? After all, how many times can a girl get ripped apart before she begins to fear the knife?

Too much... too much... too much to put it into words adequate to the intensity. Course, on the other hand, that's how I feel about my love for her as well...

Okay - so happy thoughts -
Sunday, I'm working on my paper in the library (after finally sending her on her way after lunch) and all of a sudden two people plop down on either side of me at the computers. I look, and it's her and her friend, they are all dressed up in leathers, and grinning like the cat who ate the canary. She's all adorable and cuddly and kissy, and so, so, so clearly happy to see me. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a mini-pumpkin for me, and when I get all excited (I love them, which she knew from pumpkin hunting last week) she makes me wait and then she pulls out a second, even more adorable mini-gourd/pumpkin thingie...

It was SO SWEET! And she didn't stay long - didn't want to disturb my studying, just "had to see me" and bring me a little study aid... she's a sweetie...

And Saturday night, when she stayed over, she layed on my bed reading me her favorite passages from the Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, her favorite book... last night, when I went over, she was reading On the Road (Kerouac), underlining in it for like the 80th time...

And this weekend, since I don't have anything due or anything major going on, she's ALL EXCITED and has planned out the whole time with things we've said we wanted to do... we're going up the mountain to see the sunset (with lots of blankets!) having yummy dinner, going partying with our friends, hitting a museum (I get to pick it!) and renting a movie to stay home alone on Sat. night... I'm so excited. There have been so many times that I've wanted a girlfriend who would plan dates like that... who would be excited and creative and sweet and thoughtful and sexy and smart and committed and honest and sincere and sexy (I know I already said it, but hey, it's important!) and witty and kind and sensitive and funny and quirky and kinky and good. So why the fuck am I always so very close to saying no? Why am I so eager to say no to love? Okay, I know why... but let's stop it now.

Mmmmmmm, that's better.... I feel a bit more optimistic, a bit more solid.... the simple truth is that she's given me no reason to distrust her, and in fact, she comes with references for being sincere. I can keep trying to read duplicity and deception into her eyes and actions, but that's about me, not her. And if I do it long enough, then it will likely become a self-fulfilling prophecy, like these things so often do. So I need to get a grip (which is part of what this entry was about) and stay in the moment, stay in the now, and enjoy the miracle.

Thanks for listening....

Unloved

You never write, you never call, what's up with you people? Yes, I am shamelessly trolling for comments here, but c'mon... this is supposed to be interactive, right? :(:(

I know, I know, I haven't had time to do my fair share of visiting the neighborhood either, so I can understand that y'all are probably just too busy to throw some love this way... I'll try to be strong. And, of course, there's also the strong possibility that my blog has been rather boring lately... hmmm, guess I'll have to think of some ways to spice that up....

Unfortunately, both of those pledges will have to wait until after Wednesday, when the killer history paper from hell is due. I'm writing on the New York Times' coverage of the Final Solution, how they knew, and covered it, but did not place the proper editorial emphasis on it, helping the American public and American government to ignore the atrocities being committed overseas. The same atrocities that they then feigned horror and surprise at once the camps were liberated and the evidence was too compelling to downplay or ignore any further. I'm also looking at the efforts of a few radical Zionists to use the NYT advertising space to change that, taking out full page ads that told the truth with all the drama it deserved, and which met with some success. Interesting paper, but there's just SO MUCH MATERIAL! And of course, I have a mild migraine all this weekend, not enough sleep, lots of work/babysitting, and there's that pesky falling in love thing taking up a lot of my mental and emotional time, as well as actual physical time.

Speaking of being horridly busy, I have to go now... Latin in 40 minutes, then my new Walking for Fitness class, then an hour break, then work from 12-4, then babysitting from 4-11, then home. Ah, yeah, gotta love it.

For Posterity Purposes

I put this on my school site, and didn't want to lose it, so I'm posting it here. Just journal-thoughts, nothing y'all haven't heard a dozen times this week already...

This is a good thing, right? This falling, this fear, this risk, this
possibility? I shouldn't just chuck it all away cuz it's scary, right? I
shouldn't just walk away cuz I don't know what's going to happen, right? I
should stick it out and enjoy the miracle and not run and not hide and not
say no to love before love can say no to me, right?

Tough stuff. Like a burn victim walking into a burning building, with only
a thin stream of air to sustain him.

We'll see what happens this weekend...

On a more cheerful note - today's (yesterday) the third week anniversary of our first
date! And even more disgustingly cute, tomorrow's date (today) will mark the
fourth week of us meeting at the bar - thanks so much to L., S.,
Chief and the rest of y'all for being the best Yenta's a grrl could have.

Hopeful, But Still Scared
Okay. I think I passed it. I'm not sure. I won't be sure until Monday, when I see the red writing on the page... But okay. I can breathe now. So I'm off to take a nappy on the couch before lunch. Then I'm back on the treadmill (well, not literally, though that'd be nicer) and off and running... but at least I get to see my sweetie tonight. Last night good talk. But I'm scared. I find that I want to talk to her too much, too often, and for too long. I don't like hanging up. I don't like saying goodbye. And while that can be quite romantic, I don't know if I am ready for the implications it brings. And - after all - it's a well known fact that as soon as one party begins to feel that way, the other party will jump up and suddenly remember that they have other plans - with other people - and other lives. Okay, okay, that's just fear talking. But still...

Course, she accidentally said the word love last night - caught it in time, something along the lines of "I'll still love you" but it came out more like "I'll still lu,er,eh,um," and then I quickly began chattering to fill the space.... funny. I'm guessing she's gonna say it tonight, though I can't be sure. Question is, if she says it, will I? I bet I will. I feel it. Though I don't know what that means, or if it even has any validity other than as an emotional (biological?) sensation. Guh. I used to trust this feeling so much, and now it's the thing I trust least.

Gotta go sleep. bye.

(funny - the title for this post was just for the latin exam, but now, I realize it fits the whole thing... )