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From now on I should only listen to those people who offer me both honesty and acceptance, or so says my horoscope for today, Tuesday the 22nd of May 2007. Sometimes it feels like I am overwhelmed with people like this, surrounded by true friends… other times it feels like I can count those honest and accepting people on one hand… or one finger, or even none at all.

As anyone who knows me or reads this blog with any regularity (and all of you who read this blog period know me, so really there’s no difference in those two groups) knows, I tend to be exuberantly, excessively passionate about the people that I choose to care about. I let people in very easily… for some reason, I still have the ability to trust, and to be sometimes painfully honest and open about my life and my feelings. In the past few months, I feel like that quality (and after much thought I have decided it’s a quality, damnit a VICTORY that I’m able to be that way), has been used, abused and torn to shreds, stomped on, shat on, pissed on and set on fire.

And yet, I continue to hope for the good in people, and the good in God, and the idea that it’ll all work out in the end if I just keep on going.

A few weeks ago, I lost someone I considered to be a friend… She sent me emails full of vitriol and anger, but I knew I’d lost her the second I started dating a boy, and right in front of her (how dare I) about a month before. She stopped talking to me, stopped confiding in me, started talking about me behind my back…and ultimately disappeared from my life completely, leaving something of a shambles behind her. I don’t care if “something of a shambles” doesn’t make grammatical sense – I rather like the sound of it.

The funny thing is, I also lost the boy I was dating who “caused” all of it. That is the one thing, however, that I don’t blame him for. Her heterophobia is not his fault (although it was his fault when he used her as an excuse to pick a fight with me because my friends didn’t like him (1 of them) when his friends hated and insulted me). The reason I ultimately lost the boy? … After dating for less than a month, I still refused to have sex with him. He needed, he said, a physical relationship (I don’t know what else you would call much of our relationship, though… basically what he wanted was the ability to stick his penis into my vagina, and I said no, I wasn’t ready.)

So, he pretended that things were okay, and told me he had no problem waiting. And then slowly stopped talking to me. He’d call me late at night only after everything else in his life had been attended to. He stopped text messaging me or returning my messages, and then got angry when I asked him why I hadn’t heard from him in days. Ultimately, after my asking him multiple times to just tell me what was going on, with no response from him, he blatantly ignored me for a week and then said he was “cutting his losses”… he was getting out because I wasn’t putting out.

That was the last I heard from him.

We were all taken in. My friends and I… people who don’t normally trust that boys are capable of being real human beings. We believed what he said, *I* believed him when he said he was crazy about me and he’d wait until I was ready. And it turned out to be an act – it turned out to be an ultimatum… either have heteronormative sex with me right now or I’m walking away.

Well of course I chose the walking away.

Call me crazy, but I think that sexual contact should mean something, and so I am wrecked over the fact that I kissed him, that I wasted kisses on him, that I believed he was who he claimed to be… and that no one warned me, not a single person. I ultimately blame myself for being taken in, and being screwed over. And knowing that no one is going to stop him from moving on to the next girl and pressuring her into sleeping with him – and in this town, it’s not hard to find a lot of girls who will. His behavior was absolutely disgusting, and I’m still in shock over it. I’m angry about it. I’m not angry at him for what he did to *me*, I’m angry that he thought he had the right to treat any human being the way he treated me. I’m angry that I met him when he assistant directed my performance of The Vagina Monologues, and so I assumed certain things, things he claimed to be true… that ultimately weren’t. He wasn’t feminist friendly. He was not an ally.

He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and he’s going to do it again. It is all I can do not to resort to egging his car, or slashing his tires, or starting a website devoted to making sure no girl ever falls victim to his bullshit again.

Because you can’t just say you’re crazy about someone, that however and whatever they want this relationship to be, they’re in… and then utterly and completely vanish from their lives because they won’t open their legs. And you can’t do that and call yourself anything but a misogynist. You can’t do that and work in the feminist community. You can’t do that, you can’t sit in my living room and mock The Monologues or bitch about how much you hate your friends and then turn around and put them ahead of your girlfriend every single time and wonder why it is that they want to know what the hell happened to change you so drastically in such a small amount of time.

The truth was, he hadn’t changed. I’d just bought the lie, and then the mask came off. And I hadn’t been wearing one. And he’d been wearing several.

I’m able to write about this now because I’m over the “us” of it all. I’m over *him*… in fact, I wasn’t even sure I liked him enough to keep the relationship going much longer. I was still testing the waters. I was still figuring out if I could trust him. But to a certain extent, as I do with all of my friends, all of the people I spend time with, I had let him in to some small extent.

Pissed and shat all over, that was me. Twice in as many weeks. Actually twice in less than two weeks. First him, then her.

So when my horoscope says to listen only to those people who are honest and accepting, I have to wonder if my radar isn’t off. If maybe I have no clue who the people are that I know that are honest and accepting, and safe. If maybe I’ve got this whole friendship thing wrong somehow. If maybe I should just shut down. Although that means they win.

If you’re one of those honest and accepting people, feel free to say so now. If you’re not, feel free to say so as well. I’d just like to know into which baskets I should put my eggs.

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One Day Blog Silence

I can’t begin to explain the way I’ve been feeling for the last few weeks. I don’t think there are words to explain it. I wrote the most incredibly personal final paper for my English 666 course and turned it in on Tuesday. There’s no doubt I’ll get a horrible grade on it, but it seemed like it marked a turning point in my writing. There was something more raw in it than there usually is in anything I say or do.

Maybe because I was actually telling the truth.

Things have been a roller coaster of insanity. I’m not sure whether I’m going up or down. Everything that should make me smile makes me cry, and everything that should make me cry makes me cry harder. I got to school early this morning and no one was in my Economics classroom, so instead of turning on the lights in this huge hall I just waited until my eyes adjusted and walked down to my usual seat. It’s completely dark except for the exit signs above the back doors, the light from the hallway way back behind the 50 odd rows of seats and this laptop monitor. I wish it would just stay this dark. I wish I could curl up in a ball on the floor, with all of the toe jam and old gum and empty water bottles of thousands of entitled Carolina students, and sleep for a million years. Sleep until it all made sense.

A question for those of you with sane and stable relationships: How does one go about being an emo and moody girl while dating a non-emo or moody boy? Especially when said emo girl doesn’t feel comfortable sharing her emo-ness because of said non-emo boy’s lack of it?

Dios le bendiga, César Chávez. Things were better when you were around… now they’re just falling apart.

They’re selling bath towels with your face on them. Sandals, too. No one showed up when they were stripping farmworker rights from the minimum wage bill.

Viva la huelga, César. Viva la causa.

Las cosas paracen malas ahora, yo sé…Pero yo prometo que vamos a hacerlas mejor. Prometo que vamos a fijarlo

No matter what I do, every day it seems like there’s something new throwing itself at my head. And not missing. I pay my bills on time, and I pay over what I owe and I still end up with overage charges for things I didn’t even do… I get a 100+ dollar phone bill two days after I get a phone to replace the one that died two months before my upgrade was allowed…the phone I put on the credit card that I made sure had enough money on it just to find out that they processed my phone charge immediately and have yet to post the payment that was made before it to ensure there was enough there to cover it.

My dad was helping me with medication and insurance, so I went to the doctor…I got my medication, I had my budget perfectly worked out, and then I… suddenly the money I was counting on wasn’t there and when they go to charge my account for my health insurance the money won’t be there. It won’t be there for my cell phone bill either. And it won’t be there for the overage charge on a credit card I had enough money on to pay for exactly what I paid for.

Every day new bills come in from the hospital. Every day I can’t afford to replace the food in the refrigerator. Every day I look at my dirty clothes and know I can’t afford to do my laundry, and every day I sit down and try to figure this all out, and try to keep an even head, and try to be responsible, and budget and make damned sure I have enough to cover my expenses, or cancel whatever it is I can’t pay for, and still somehow I end up drowning.

And the funny thing about it is…now, if I get sick, I know I can’t afford to go to the doctor, regardless of the fact that I have insurance. So I know I won’t. Now I know I can’t afford to go to the psychiatrist, or the psychologist, so I have to cancel my appointments. Now I know I can’t afford my medication, so I’ll go without it and end up curled in a ball in the closet, slamming my head into a wall hoping the bad things will go away. But they never do, the old bad things, the new bad things…they’re always right there around the corner. And suddenly I have no skin.

Today I got broken up with on Facebook by someone I am never speaking to again.

I mean really. How are you going to take a sick, barely able to walk, cold-sweat having, home alone, finals studying, IRB approval getting achy, gaggy little pobrecita como yo, and then you know, just break up with her on Facebook. Like all of a sudden I’m in an open relationship with nobody, and all of a sudden her feed says she’s single and all of a sudden CHINGATE, if I have to deal with this pinche mierda, you know what I’m saying? Santo Dios I gotta deal with this mierda, I’m gonna cut a bitch.

Putas everywhere, filthy German putas.

It’s one of those times when I just don’t know what to say or do. Prayer doesn’t seem like enough, even though I know it’s the biggest thing there is anyone can do in a situation like this. The death count is at 33 as I write this, and I’m sitting here, one state away, feeling so powerless.

It’s wrong, I think, to say that I think my campus is feeling empathetic. With Taheri-Azar driving through the Pit and Jason dying in New Jersey…especially, I think, with K Dot for the people I know/knew, I think we’ve…felt like we’ve gone through enough hell in the past year, I think we’ve been waiting for things to abate… I know everyone on campus this morning seemed in a daze, and it continues as the death toll mounts. I can’t compare our grief… I guess no one ever can.

I can’t even imagine what those students, those families, the campus community must be going through right now. So many horrible, fucked up things have happened that our students have tried to “quietly” struggle with while they get blasted all over international headlines, and this…this is just…so much…worse. I can’t even imagine. I can imagine, but I can’t even imagine.

It’s evil. It’s just evil, and I have no other word for it. We reel from accidents, we try our best to do what’s right, but this kind of horror is just un-fucking-speakable.

Our hearts and prayers and thoughts and love are with you, Virginia Tech. I can’t say it’ll ever be better, or even near the same again…I can’t say anything right now except I’m so, so sorry.

Today, after “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” we decided to move out into the living room to finish watching our Red Box movies from last night. I was in the bedroom editing some tags on photos of Elias‘ fourth birthday party yesterday, when Sparklepants called me into the kitchen, crying.

When we lost Pas, we’d only had him a few months. He wasn’t our baby. He didn’t snarl at us or puff up at us when we walked past his bowl. Paul Anka had personality, he was our moody teenager, listening to the Cure in the basement. He used to eat out of Sparklepants’ fingers. And now he’s gone.

When Pas died, I found him. I called Sparklepants at work to warn her. I picked him up in the net and flushed him down the toilet and we said goodbye. Today I couldn’t even look at his bowl. I kept thinking “sometimes he’s really emo and he refuses to move until you move his bowl or poke at him. Maybe he’s pretending.”

He wasn’t pretending this time.

Goodbye, Paul Anka. You were the best fish, and we loved you every day of the one year and four months that you sat on our kitchen counter. You’re irreplaceable. We’ll miss you.

Currently Reading

Eve Ensler, Insecure At Last

Brettell and Sargent, eds. Gender in Cross-Cultural Perspective

Quoth the Raven:

"Girls aren't beautiful, they're pretty. Beautiful is too heavy a word to assign to a girl. Women are beautiful because their faces show that they know, that they have lost something and picked up something else."

-Henry Rollins
October 2017
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