It made me laugh

Messed up Family Tree
Many many years ago
when I was twenty three,
I got married to a widow
who was pretty as could be.

This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law
And changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
For she was my father's wife.

To complicate the matters worse,
Although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
Of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became
A brother-in-law to dad.
And so became my uncle,
Though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle,
Then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown-up daughter
Who, of course, was my step-mother.

Father's wife then had a son,
Who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
For he was my daughter's son.

My wife is now my mother's mother
And it makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife,
She is my grandma too.

If my wife is my grandmother,
Then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it,
It simply drives me wild.

For now I have become
The strangest case you ever saw.
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa

Karma

At the 1994 annual awards dinner given by the American Association for Forensic Sciences, AAFS President Don Harper Mills astounded his audience in San Diego with the legal complications of a bizarre death. Here is the story...

On March 23 the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a gunshot wound of the head caused by a shotgun. Investigation to that point had revealed that the decedent had jumped from the top of a ten story building with the intent to commit suicide. (He left a note indicating his despondency.) As he passed the 9th floor on the way down, his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast through a window, killing him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the decedent was aware that a safety net had been erected at the 8th floor level to protect some window washers, and that the decedent would not have been able to complete his intent to commit suicide because of this...

Ordinarily a person who starts into motion the events with a suicide intent ultimately commits suicide even though the mechanism might be not what he intended. That he was shot on the way to certain death nine stories below probably would not change his mode of death from suicide to homicide, but the fact that his suicide intent would not have been achieved under any circumstance caused the medical examiner to feel that he had homicide on his hands...

Further investigation led to the discovery that the room on the 9th floor from whence the shotgun blast emanated was occupied by an elderly man and his wife. He was threatening her with the shotgun because of an interspousal spat and became so upset that he could not hold the shotgun straight. Therefore, when he pulled the trigger, he completely missed his wife, and the pellets went through the window, striking the decedent.

When one intends to kill subject A, but kills subject B in the attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject B. The old man was confronted with this conclusion, but both he and his wife were adamant in stating that neither knew that the shotgun was loaded. It was the longtime habit of the old man to threaten his wife with an unloaded shotgun. He had no intent to murder her; therefore, the killing of the decedent appeared then to be accident. That is, the gun had been accidentally loaded...

But further investigation turned up a witness that their son was seen loading the shotgun approximately six weeks prior to the fatal accident. That investigation showed that the mother (the old lady) had cut off her son's financial support, and her son, knowing the propensity of his father to use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation that the father would shoot his mother. The case now becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus...

Further investigation revealed that the son became increasingly despondent over the failure of his attempt to get his mother murdered. This led him to jump off the ten story building on March 23, only to be killed by a shotgun blast through a 9th story window.

The medical examiner closed the case as a suicide.

New hair

pink insanity!!!

False Securities

As I look around me, it seems that everyone is searching for something.
We dedicate our lives to this search, looking for it in God, religion, music, relationships, sex, drugs, art, science.
Do we even know what we are looking for? I don't. I wondered for the longest time what it is, exactly, we search so diligently for, what it is that we fail to find, and end up waandering lost through life.
At frist I thought we were searching for the meaning of life. After all, it is the age old question, the one people have debated and died for throughout history. It seemed like a good enough answer, but somehow, when applied to the reality of those around me, it didn't quite fit. If it did, we would be nothing more then walking existential crisises.
And we're not.
So, while it sound nice and profound, the meaning of life is not what were are searching for. Not truely. Its merely a sideshow along the way, but not the actual journey.

You are born.
Some are born into luckier circumstances then others. You go to school, get the best education the government can buy (God help us all on that on). You graduate. You go to work, or you may go to college, which will inevidably lead you to work as well. There is nothing wrong with work. It creates discipline and molds character. We go to work to get money, because we live in a society founded on money.

Yet we keep searching. And whatever answer we find, we find in different places. Often times, even after we've thought we found the answer, a little while later, we are searching again.

I realized today, while drive home, what it is people are seeking, striving for, what they want.

We do not want to know the meaning of life. Sure, it's fun to think about and debate, but in the end, we don't want to know. If someone was to tell us "This is your purpose in life," we would probably, in our human folly, reject it.

We want security.
Ever since we huddled together in caves, cringing at distant howls of the untamed wilderness, we've wanted security.
We go to school, to get and education, to get a job, to get money, because in this capitolistic culture or ours, money buy security.
You have the perfect house, the perfect wife, the perfect kids, the perfect neighborhood, because perfection is a sign of security. Anything imperfect cannot be secure, so the logic goes.
When the towers came crashing down, we signed away our rights, because we want security. People with too much freedom will pursue dangerous activties, threatening the perfect security we've built for ourselves.

We are constantly seeking it, and when we've found it, we dedicate our lives to maintaining it. We create levels of status, which we strive to ascend not for riches or respect(though they are nice), but for security. We create our identity based on the things that give us the comfort of security.

Security in our jobs.
Security in our relationships.
Security in our future.
Security in our afterlife.

We do this because the future is unknown, and we don't like the unknown. We fear it. We hold it in contempt and disdain. We hate unexpected surprises.
We do this because if we spend all of our lives focusing on attaining and maintaining security, we won't have to face the ugly insecurities that lie within us. They will be left alone in the dark corners of our soul, forgotten and ignored, never dying, but simply waiting, paitently, for the day our securities come tumbling down.

There is a cruel bit of irony in all of this, when you step back and look at the bigger picture, because in all reality, there really is no security.
It is simply an illusion.
The education, the job, the marriage, the house, the family; There is no security in any of these. A degree can be rendered useless by new scientific advancements, a job can disappear in a wave of recession, a marriage is never guaranteed, a home can burn, and a family can be torn apart in a thousand horrific ways.

And whats ironic is that we know this. We know, honestly, that there is no true security in any of these things, in anything life has to offer. We know it is all an elaborate illusion we've create for ourselves, a false reality we've built so that we don't have to face the actual reality. But we keep coming back to these things, reveling in the ficitional securities they provide. We say we care for these things, and maybe we do, but we care more for the secruity they provide us with. In truth, that may be why we care for them in the first place. These things offer us the illusion of security, and we love them for it.

Security is the ultimate form of power, because it is proof we have power over ourselves and our future. We have conquered that dispised unknown.

And to all that, I say simple this:
Fuck it.

To me, from where I'm standing, its not worth it.
I go to college not for a piece of paper and 5 to 6 figures a year, but because I enjoy the experience, and I enjoy learning. Education has long been a favorite past time.
I grew up in an environment that could be very unstable at times, and I learned early on how little security there is in families. I won't deny myself mine, but I don't depend on them for security either.
I go into Medical Technology not for the money or job security, but because it is something that interests me, and something that is desperately needed. I love the medical field, but if I were to try to become a doctor, I would probably lose my mind. I prefer medical technology, thank you very much.
In our mindless scramble to secure ourselves, we forget about the conditions of the less fortunate, leaving them to fend for themselves. I refuse to do that. The homeless, the junkies, the innocent, the addicts, the diseased, the guilty, the weak, they are all merely human in the end, and I will help them the best I can, all of them.

Love. Love is the most dangerous of all. Nothing threats security more then love, and we deny ourselves the true extent of it, usually for petty reasons. Perhaps we've been hurt before. So? Let it go, and move on. Love the next one openly and without hesitation, without the baggage of the previous relationship. Maybe he really is working late at the office. Nothing in this world offers true security, especially relationships, despite the fact we look to relationships more then anything for security.

Let go of this meaningless pursuit of perfection. The security it promises is but an illusion, and the reality around us, while at times less pleasent, is much more fulfilling. Let go of what you think you want, what you think you need in order to become a better person.

Appriciate what you have now.
Tomorrow it may not be there.

Update

Its been a while since I've written. Its kinda hard to blog when you live in a place with no internet. Hopefully that will change soon.
I hung out with Jeff last night. Well, as when I got there he was falling asleep, and I was pretty tired from school, so I curled up next to him for a nice hour nap.
I'm still not sure what he thinks of me, but I like him.

What Else Is There To Say?

Living alone is very lonely.

I couldn't stop crying last night because the overwhelming loneliness was unbearable. Wolfe and his girlfriend stopped by for an hour to talk, and it was good to have the company, but as soon as they left, I felt lonely again.

Meh.

On a more positive side, I did manage to break through my artist's block and started on a pretty cool painting, a punk style. I think I'll pierce the canvas and add body jewelry once I've finished the paint part. Once again, it involves a naked woman. Why do I always revert to painting naked chicks? Must be the boobs.

I need more paint.
And more comics to read. Jeff and Z have both recommended Walking Dead.
And a fedora. Because everything is better with a fedora

To My Step Mother

Apparently my step mom is trying to start shit again. She told Dad that I was writing offensive material about her and Cassie on me “website” again. First off, which one? Myspace? Facebook? Blogger? She never specified, though its probably Myspace. I have no idea how she’s accessing it, I’ve checked over the privacy settings
So Terry, since you seem to take so much joy in reading my blogs, here is one specially for you, a personal blog dedicated in your honor, written by yours truly:

I don’t hate you any more.
I certainly don’t like you. But I no longer hate you.
Rather anti-climactic, I know. Maybe you’re relieved. Or perhaps a touch disappointed, hoping that I would go off on one of my rants on the abhorrent behavior you exposed me to as a child, or how much I hate you, so then you would have evidence to print out and wave in front of my father’s face, proof of how “disturbed” I am.
Sorry to disappoint. As you so often indicate, I am something of a disappointment. I’ve never been drunk, sticking to a few sips of beer when I do indulge. Remembering how much you loved alcohol, I can see how this would be a disappointment.
All bitchy quips aside, I’ve managed, after years of struggling, to get over you and your actions. This year was the year, and I cannot tell you how relieved it has made me.
I don’t hate you.
I do dislike you, but no longer hate you.
I honestly don’t envy you, Terry. You’ve led a pretty hard life at times. You were the oldest in a large family, with a father who wasn’t always around, you married young to a man who beat you, you’ve had problems with alcohol, and now, in your second marriage, you are facing difficulties. I don’t envy your hardships; I don’t have to. As good as my life is, there will be bumps along the way. Hardships which I hope to handle in a mature, graceful, and sober fashion.
Maybe it was because of your hardships that you said the things you did, committing verbal abuse with led to emotional distress and contributed to low self-esteem. Or maybe you did it because your were drunk, as you usually were when you said such things. Alcohol, as we all know, really isn’t much of an excuse; All it does it merely lower inhibitions, not change who you are, and even if it did, the choice to drink was one you made every Friday night. It all comes down to personal responsibility.
I don’t care why you did it. I don’t like to dwell in that particular part of my past, though now I can do so without breaking out into tears. I am getting better, and I am finding I no longer hate you.
I do pity you. Not in a pathetic, demeaning sort of way, but in an honest and compassionate way, with only the best intentions. Humans, when ill-treated, will exact the same behavior onto others when they have the power to do so. Psychological studies time and again have proved this. And I will willingly admit, after the way you treated me, there were times where I treated you in a dreadful manner. You apologized, and me, doubting your sincerity, seized the opportunity to bite back. I am sorry for that.
I think if humans are ever to evolve, we need to get past this behavior and progress towards forgiveness. To hang onto a grudge long enough poisons the soul, and thus the tormentor has won twice over. In the end, grudges are not worth the life we miss out on.
I’m trying to take the steps towards evolving. I forgive you. I forgave you, finally, months ago, I got over the whole thing, and moved on. For you to try to stir up shit by saying I am writing offensive things about you and Cassie, a sister I love, is horrid. At one time, I would have been angry about it. Now I merely saddened by your lack of evolution, by these accusations you create, tactics you use to split apart a family that’s already too far divided.
Life has been hard for you, any idiot with half a brain cell can see that. But I consider my life, for all its flaws, an immensely blessed life, and after years of struggle, I have reached a point where nothing you can do or say, will ever destroy that.
I don’t hate you.



I don’t like you either. Maybe one day I will. But I’m not going to hold my breath.
Instead, I am going to continue to enjoy and celebrate my life, because now I am living a life without fear. Without fear of saying something that will set you off, without fear of being reprimanded for my opinions, without fear of waking up at night to your screaming, without any fear of simply being myself. A life where I can finally be myself.
And I celebrate my life every day, with short plaid skirts and fishnets, with new piercings and (someday) colorful tattoos, with long sleepless night of studying, with good books, with loud rock concerts, with spiked hair that changes color, with a college education, with good friends and laughter, with warm cups of tea, with screaming punk and metal, with lazy Sunday mornings, with sex, with helping others, with dancing all night, and with love.

Life is beautiful Terry, and I refuse to miss out on it because of some nasty things you said while I was growing up. Life is to short to brood on you. Maybe you were right when you called me a punk. But this twisted little punk is unapologetically enjoying her life at full volume, and I’d rather go to my grave having lived well.

This Guy

Life finally seems to have calmed down and is progressing forward (as life has a tendency to do).
I met a guy.
I'm finding myself rather excited by this. Why?
Because he's pretty damn wonderful.
He's funny, attractive, he cooks, he's covered in beautiful ink and shiny piercings.
We hung out for the first time a week ago, he cooked steak, we played pool, and watched movies. It was fun, relaxed, and he wasn't too forward. All he did was give me a back massage. No obnoxious moves or lame one-liners, or any other attempt to get in my pants. It was just a nice, relaxed evening. I feel like he respects me, or at least my limits. We hung out Thursday night after his shift and when he kissed me, he actually asked me right afterward if that was alright, as if he was afraid of over-stepping his bounds. It was kinda sweet.
Have I really gotten so used to guys just wanting sex that I've forgotten what being respected feels like?
Oh, and add to the list of his awesomeness:
He's a fucking good kisser.

Toilet Paper Palace

I finally moved yesterday!
Jess was a HUGE help. Dragging theater sets all day made her so much stronger then me, so she did most of the heavy lifting. She even brought me dinner.
My apartment looks so pretty. I just sat in it for 20 minutes, unable to believe that for the next six months, I have my own place. Its huge compared to what I had before.
The manager did an awesome job cleaning the place. He shampooed the carpets, installed brand new lighting, fixed the eroding shower tiles, completely scrubbed every last inch of the kitchen and fridge. Its pretty impressive, considering how trashed it was. Extreme home makeover could use this guy.

And somehow I ended up with 61 rolls of toilet paper. Still trying to figure out how that happened.

My bedroom is pretty empty looking compared to the living room though. Looks kinda sad.

I don't have any internet, which sucks, but I do have awesome cell reception, finally! No more standing outside in pajamas freezing my ass off in order to talk on the phone.

I have to go back tonight to grab the rest of my things. Maybe I'll rent a movie tonight.

Speaking of which, I did finally get to hang out with Jeff, the guy who wrote his number on the back of my receipt. I went over to his place and realized he was living with Isaac and RJ, friends of mine from high school. It was good to see Isaac. RJ and I were always kinda neutral. This state is so freaking small.
Anyways, we hung out, played pool (I got worse at pool. I thought that was impossible, but apparently not), and he cooked me an awesome steak dinner (complete with baked potatoes), and later even gave me a shoulder massage (I miss Sony and her awesome massages).
Yes, this guy earned massive brownie points.

Halloween

I miss Sony. Halloween is her holiday.

Today was a good day though. I had a really productive therapy session. We talked about the sources of my anxiety attacks, and managed to pinpoint it to three big contributors: Frustration, guilt, and over-stimulation. When you add stress, it compounds everything and makes me more vulnerable to attacks.

The doctor talked about "self talking", a practice where I become aware of my thoughts and attitudes when I am anxious in order to change them in a more positive way. I told him that Buddhism had a similar concept, the concept of "Right View," part of the eightfold path. He seemed happy that it agreed with my religious beliefs. Its pretty cool that Buddhism, a 2500 year old religion, lines up so well with basic modern psychology.


Later on I went to Darlene and Daniel's wedding!
Oh my god, it was so amazing. I was an usher with her son, Dallas. Her daughter was the maid of honor, and she looked so pretty. And Darlene was downright gorgeous. I hope to have pictures to post soon.
I convinced Darren to dance with me, which was fun. Tonight is my last night as Darren and Zach's room mate. I also had a slow dance with a really sweet guy named Josh.

Then I went to the store, bought more boxes, and continued packing. I move tomorrow and have to be up freaking early.

A Poster Promoting AIDS Awareness in Europe

Seriously.




I love it.

Found at: http://www.yukoart.com/news/aids.html

Weekends are the universe's gift of relaxation.

Yesterday was pretty nice. I woke up at the frat house curled up next to Isaac, who had to leave early, which was sad. I enjoy waking up next to him, even if we are on just platonic terms. (Okay, semi-platonic.) I fell back asleep after he left, but eventually woke up again to have lunch with Dad. He seemed a little less stressed then the past couple of times I've talked to him. I know things are bad when Dad gets stressed and worried. He hides it pretty well, but after 20 years I've learned how to see signs when he is stressed. I hate seeing him like that, and I hate knowing that I am the cause of a lot of his financial distress.

Afterward I saw my therapist. It was an okay session, I ended up having to bring Khaliyah because Moto was trying to get into her cage and it freaked me out. Fortunately having a snake around didn't freak the therapist out (I wish I could say the same about the women at the bridal shop I visited later). He said the snake seemed to relax me. She does, I actually never realized how relaxing having a snake was until I bought one. The therapist said I needed to take time to take care of myself. And a possiblity of having a perscription of a few barbituates.

I stopped by David's Bridal to pick up my usher's dress. It looks spiffy. Darlene's wedding is less then a week away. I need to dye my hair blue for it. I can't wait to see her get married, shes so excited.

I went to see As You Like It at the university. It was pretty good, a couple of my friends are in it, and it was good to watch them perform. I had to leave a little early to go meet Patty, so I didn't get to see them after the show. I'm going to stop by the theatre tonight when the show ends to congratulate them, and ask Jess if she could help me move.

That night I also saw Patty. He was in town only for three days for a brief fall break. He's back in Oregon now, but it was good to see him. He's actually been having a bit of a tough time, he had a falling out with one of his closest friends, and it has devastated him. We watched Dark City for a bit, and cuddled while catching up. I haven't seen him since July and I've missed him terribly because of it. It was good to be with him.

After he left the whole household gathered around to watch the new Supernatural. It was hilarious.

Today was a nice lazy day. I slept in, woke up, curled in bed next to Darren to bullshit about random things. I bought some groceries, made an awesome spinach and pesto ravioli thingy, read, slept, made dinner (almost started a fire making grilled cheese). I needed a nice, quiet day, though I found myself missing Isaac a few times, and then Sony. I guess I'm lonely, and seeing Patty made me realize how long its been since I've seen some of my closest friends.

Finally, Breathe

Its been a rough week.
I have had an anxiety attack every day this week (most small, one which wasn't).

I have found myself quite attracted to a friend of mine who is, alas, taken. At first I thought I was just horny, and then on a rebound from Jason (if sort kinda but not really dating him qualifies for a rebound). But today I realized I actually like this guy. He makes me laugh. I feel comfortable and safe around him. He reads good books. He's cuddly.
I hope I don't destroy something beautiful.

Panic Attack

I had a panic attack in chem lab today. Well, actually, I was fortunate enough to have it before we started the actual lab, so the teacher (sweetheart that she is), told me I could make it up at the Thursday morning lab.

Panic attacks suck. It feels like a constantly impending heart attack.

On the front of love, I seem to find myself rather attracted to a friend, Isaac. I've known him for the better part of a year and he always makes me laugh. Sadly though, he is in a new relationship, and thus off limits. *Sigh*

I need a dom.

I'll write more later, I need to go study. Friggin' midterms.

This Weekend

I've been sick since Thursday. I'm all dizzy and dazed and phlegmy. Used tissues have taken over my bedroom and the living room. I will make it to most of my classes tomorrow, though Japanese is debatable. I need to talk to sensei about class. Good thing I'm auditing.

I totally bought a book today I couldn't really afford, but I've never apologized for buying a book, I come from a family of bibliophiles. It is The Painted Veil, by William Somerset Maugham, a personal favorite of mine. So far it is good, well-versed in his beautiful subtlety that he is famous for. My dad got me started on Somerset Maugham years ago when I was a high school junior, and he's been one of my favorite authors since. The Razor's Edge was one of the most elegant pieces of literature I've ever experienced. I've been too sick to really focus on my math (I tried, and failed), so I decided to spend my time at least reading instead of wasting it on TV or more sleep or endless mindless hours on the Internet.

I am an usher for my friend's wedding, and since I have nothing nice or "usherish" to wear, she took me to a bridal shot to find a cheap nice dress. It was rather hard, my breasts don't like to fit, and when they do, the dress is too big in the waist and the straps are too loose. We finally did find a nice little black number, and a few alterations in the straps and hem will make it fit better. It is all black, and since the ushers (me and her son), as well as the bridesmaids and groomsmen are all wearing black and navy, she told me I could dye my hair blue to match ^_^
Yes, Darlene is awesome like that.

Spending two hours in a bridal shop has cemented my conviction that should I ever stoop into insanity and embark on the journey of matrimony, I shall do so with the time-honored tradition of eloping.

I hung out with Jason tonight. It was a little less awkward this time, which was nice. Maybe next time I'll stay over. He is a great person to cuddle with.

Sick

I'm sick again.
Anxiety weakens one's immune system, so sickness is common, according to the doctor.
But studying may help distract me.

Three more days.

I'm in a slightly better mood tonight, especially considering how bad I was today. Dad unwillingly helped trigger an anxiety attack.
"Why haven't you gotten your snow tires yet?
Why did you drop that class a month ago? Did you really have to drop that class?
This new apartment is really expensive. Its coming out of your college, you know."

Yes Dad, I know. Thank you. Excuse my as I have an anxiety attack now.
He apologized later.
But still.
It would be nice if I could have an interaction with either parent without them triggering anxiety.

I called my mom tonight apologizing for being so frustrated over the weekend. I know she understands, but I'm sure its not any easier for her.

Charles brightened my mood by telling my about the 88 shrine pilgrimage in Shikoku, and then showing my silly posts on a threat titled: "(MSPaint) Things your father does that are beyond your comprehension. "
Its pretty funny.
I want to do that pilgrimage now.

Three more days until my first therapist's appointment. Three more days.
It feels good for things to more forward.

To bed. I bought some new books by Thich Nhat Hanh, and I hope to dive into them before going to sleep. Oooo, in my new comfy cat-piss free papasan cushion. Huzzah.

Monday

I survived my weekend at Mom's trying to study. An anxiety attack was looming the entire time, and I nearly lost it a couple of times, but made it through.
I made most my classes, had about four incidences where my anxiety was really bad, but I beat it.
I bought a new cushion for my papasan chair. The cats decided to use mine as a litterbox, so I treated myself to a pretty new sage-colored one. I put it in my chair as soon as I got home and spent 15 minutes reveling in it's comfiness. Yay for simple pleasures.

I ran into Lena today at the store, and asked her if Riley (her boyfriend), would mind her having a girlfriend (me). She laughed and said she'd let me know.

Darren, Charles, and I gathered aroung the tiny laptop tonight to watch the latest episode of Supernatural. Gods, I love that show! It gets better and better everytime I see it.

I spent some time tonight at Darlene's studying for my chem lab final tomorrow. Wish me luck.

I take second place to cookware.

I asked my mom earlier to go look for books about handling people/family members who suffer from anxiety.
"Tell ya what, why don't you find some books and I'll buy them," she tells me.
Not even five minutes later, she is on Amazon.com, a site which was originally made famous by selling books, looking at cookware.
I didn't realize I take second place to cookware.
She never did look for books.
I am dealing with the worst anxiety in my life, so intense that I almost vomit every morning upon awakening, that my body won't even mensturate, that I have to inflict pain in order to stop an attack, and I've developed a mild case of agoraphobia of certain places...and she looks at cookware.
What the hell?
When I was diagnosed with ADD as a child, she bought no fewer then a dozen books on the subject. Now she can't even spend 15 minutes looking for one? I find this disgustingly ironic, seeing as how she has a tendancy to trigger anxiety attacks.

An odd development

Every time I wake up now, no matter what time of the day or night, I am immediately hit (and I mean immediately, before any thought has a chance to enter my mind) by an overwhelming sense of physical nervousness. My stomach is tied up in knots, I nearly vomit, my hands shake, I feel my blood plusing (oddly enough though, everytime I take my pulse, my heart rate is normal).
It makes it hard to get out of bed.

Apartment Hunting

My parents, particularly my father, in reaction to my severe and worsening anxiety, have decided to help me get out of my current living situation by helping me attain my own apartment. Perhaps one I can share with a room mate, but a room mate of my choosing, an apartment that will be, unarguably, mine.
My own space.
Not some cramped little bedroom where I can barely cramp my life's possessions, but a place all my own. A place where I can come home and study, read, meditate, pray, and dance naked in the kitchen at odd hours of the night. No loud room mates talking loudly in the middle of the night, no having to deal with Drew's negativity every Saturday, who makes me feel unwelcome in my own home. It doesn't even feel like home to me, it feels like a place I've been crashing at for a year. I can't paint without getting yelled at, I have no room in my room for Khaliyah, so her tank remains in Z's bedroom, to his disparagement. No more Charles and his loud voice, occasional lack of personal space, and constant lack of pants. No more T.V.
It feels like hope.
I got a call today saying I was approved for a nice one bedroom apartment, in a very secure building, full of quiet people, and an on the site manager. A little like living in the dorms, but without the drama, and the room mates. I had a less-then-pleasant experience in the dorms, having to deal with a homophobic Texas bitch who lived off of drama. That wasn't fun. Texans are funny, either I get along very well with them, or we clash. I think it has something about being an Alaskan. We're bigger then them, and they can't handle it ^_^
My anxiety has gotten worse to the point of mild agoraphobia. What is worng with me?
Every breath is a struggle.
Every moment is a battle not to lose it.
One more week. I have to last one more week, that is when my first appointment with the therapist is.
One more week.

sigh...

I feel like a complete failure.

The Worse Week

This week has been the worse since my anxiety attack I faced in September.
A combination of anxiety, high levels of fatigue, frustrations of living in a cramped apartment with three other people, school, the kinda sorta break-up earlier this week, it finally climaxed in a very rare episode of depression.
I've honestly never had much trouble with depression. I've had a few down moments here and there, but honestly nothing a good evening to myself (or with good friends)couldn't solve. Anxiety has always been my burden.
To have depression this extreme is new to me. Monday was the worse, today finally brought a little relief. I even smiled once or twice. It was nice. Yesterday I had lunch with Dad, and he convinced me to go apartment hunting. He and Mom decided to get me my own apartment, or help me find a place where I have a little more space instead of cramming myself and all my possessions (sans car, of course), into a tiny 10' by 10'ish room. We found a good deal on a 2 bedroom, hopefully it will work out.
Please work out. I'm going insane here. One of my room mates has no concept of personal space. I suppose I can be a little misleading; after all, I am very comfortable with the other two. We hug, tickle, annoy, and tease each other constantly, and he doesn't get that I am not that familiar with him, so therefore there are limits. He's learning. I need to get out of here.

My poor parents. All they can do is stand by and watch helplessly as their daughter flirts with insanity. (Well, not actual insanity, but during an anxiety attack, I feel like I'm pretty damn close). They've been great.
Physical pain helps me focus too. My anxiety was very high today, I had to concentrate on each breath or else I started to lose it.I ended up digging my fingernails into my skin so I could concentrait on the lectures.

Uncertainty

Today has not been a good day. My anxiety has developed into full-fledged depression, and making it through today's classes has been a struggle. I didn't make it to math, which will only add to more anxiety, which will lead to further depression....and so it goes.

Last night with him was like a break-up in many ways. What we had was exactly what I wanted, something friendly and casual, with an opportunity to slowly grow into something more over time. I wanted to call it dating, to give it a name, so that I would know we were mutually in the same place, instead of just assuming we were.
I needed it to have a name, there was a small shred of uncertainty when it was unnamed, an uncertainty I was uncomfortable with, and wanted to fix. I had no idea it would lead to the mess it caused last night. I didn't realize that while I was busy falling for him, he had already labeled me as "just a friend." A friend he cared for, but just a friend none the less. That's what hurt the most, I think, because to me he is someone special and I thought I was someone special to him too. After all, he initiated the first kiss, he risked his career by being with me, he said he cared for me, so naturally I thought we had something worth pursuing. I just wanted to have whatever we were pursuing to have a name. I quit my job so his career would no longer be at risk, and so I could focus on school. But it turns out I am just a friend.
I never thought that by trying to name it, we would end up where we did last night. I wasn't trying to push him into anything serious, I just wanted to be certain of where I stood with you. I just didn't realized that I am just a friend to you. I don't want to share the fate of Tara and other women he cared about, but never dated. I like him too much.
He's kind, funny, smart. He is sarcastic, selfish yet unselfish at the same time. He makes me laugh. He has issues he needs to work through. He has great taste in music, movies, and books. He's great in bed. Not only does he want kids, he can financially and emotionally support them. I realized a while ago that's why I never really considered having children, because I never dated anyone who I could visualize as being financially/mentally/emotionally ready to support kids. But he is, and because of that, I can see having kids.
He says he needs time, time to get through his issues, to figure out what he wants in life. I just want to be there for him, to make him happy, to help him in any way that I can. I like being around him, I like the way he makes me feel. I like him, for all his fucked-upness.
And now what's said is said and done is done. I feel like I'm going to lose him, and that sense of loss is unbearable and frustrating.

Losing Him.

I went over to his apartment tonight, just planning on hanging out, and we did, we had wonderful sex, but sometime afterwards stupid little me had to push the subject of dating. It kinda blew up in my face. While I've been letting myself fall for him without reservation, he had already categorized me under the file name of "Friends I Love."
I want to be more then a friend to him. I want to be someone he can vent to, to lean on, to fall in love with, to grow with. I want someone who can be that for me, and I totally fell for him, hard. And I mean hard. He's absolutely amazing. He's geeky, funny, intelligent, wonderful.
I cried for an hour or so and then came home. Of course, when I become upset, I can't speak, so I had a hard time telling him how I feel, all I could say is that I wish he would give dating me a chance. He finally explained that he's got some issues to work through and needed time ( a few months) to deal with them. I'm in no rush. I care very deeply for him, and want to help him in any way I can get through his issues (though I doubt there is really much I can do). He said he wanted to avoid sex for the time being, which is fine by me in that I can understand, and for him sex complicates things. A small part of me feels like he's trying to push me away, even though I know thats not what he intended when he said that. It was a just a knee-jerk reaction in my head, maybe because now I do feel like I'm losing him, and I don't want to.
All I can do is give him time and space, and be there for him.
To bed now. School is going to royally suck tomorrow.
We never officially dated, but it feels like we're breaking up.
I can't stop crying.

Giving up.

i am frustraited.
i am tired.
i want to scream.
i want to cry.
i want to sleep.
i want to give up.

Arg.

Today sucked.
In a really major way.
My alarm clock didn't go off, so I slept in and missed an oral test in Japanese, and my poor partner had to do it without me. The teacher said I could do it Monday after class, so I'm lucky, but I still feel bad, and suffered a small anxiety attack as well.
I've misplaced my driver's license, which means I couldn't cash my rent check, which means I had to drive out to the valley tonight to give me mom back the check and have her withdraw rent in cash so I can pay my part of the rent.
I saw my little sister today for the first time in months, today with Dad at Taco Bell. It was good to see her, I guess. She's been getting involved with theatre. We aren't exactly close, mostly because I only saw on weekends growing up, and because her mother would often get drunk an verbally abuse me. Awkward.
I didn't manage to get to a computer until 5:30 to post an assignement that was due at 5. Fuck.
I'm tired. I'm stuck in an odd paradox: My anxiety makes me tired, and any drug I would take to fend off fatigue increase my risk of anxiety, which in turn makes me tired.... you see the endless spiral this turns into?
I am so fucking frustraited by this day. I want to cry.

Of Politics, Chemistry, and Submission.

Today was, for the most part a good day. I accomplished a lot more then I planned.
I woke up to awesome morning sex.
I had Bears Tooth for breakfast/lunch.
I worked with Magellan to find a therapist that my insurance covers.
My one class, chemistry, didn't completely suck, and now the chemistry department *finally* has tutors available for students.
I watched a very good vice-presidential debate on campus with fellow students and free pizza. It was great. If you haven't seen it yet, then download it, now.
I managed to get some studying done for Japanese tomorrow.



Taking a break from studying, I continued reading Kushiel's Chosen, the second book of the Kushiel series. It is beautifully written, and already I like it better then the first. The books are about the life of Phedre, a naturally submissive woman, a masochistic courtesan who saves her country. I am quite fond of the book and its characters, my favorite quote ("That which yields is not always weak") comes from this saga. It takes me to a world where no one thinks any differently or less of her because of her natural submissiveness, and the book points out several occasions that just because she is submissive, she is by no means shy or incapable of being courageous, brave, or aggressive. It breaks stereotypes and misconceptions about submissive people, and on top of that, a really good read.
There is a scene in the Kushiel's Chosen where she re-enters the service of being a courtesan, and takes her first patron in two years. The scene was eloquently detailed enough to paint the atmosphere, and left just enough out for my vivid imagination to fill in the blanks. What I like most is that the author doesn't really describe the actual sex or foreplay; instead she focuses on Phedre's feelings about being able to kneel before someone for the first time in two years, the joy of begging, the whip falling across her back, the delightful pain dancing across her skin, about how natural it all felt. "It was like a homecoming," she comments.

I tried to get back to studying after that, and failed miserably. All I could think about was being ordered to kneel, being thrown onto a bed, forced down and flogged, screaming with each lash....it makes it pretty hard to concentrate on Japanese.
Submission is, in its own way, an addiction, a driving need I've felt since I was a little girl, and I am in need of a fix. I've gotten a lot of criticism from certain people about my submissive tenancies, especially from one person in particular, and for the longest time I was very ashamed about it (I eventually got over myself and learned to embrace. It's more fun that way anyways). So it's really nice to read something in which natural submission is written about so casually, and in such a beautiful and eloquent novel as well.

High on Hair Dye Fumes

I want to go to sleep. I've been having a hard time getting enough sleep lately, I don't even remember the last time I had a full 8 hours.
About 30 more minutes, and then I'll be able to crash. Right now I'm in the middle of dying my hair. I'm not sure how it will turn out, I think they changed their formula, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll have to make an appointment at the hair-dresser's tomorrow (I hope not). I hope to eventually do bright orange, but I have to wait until I'm official done with work (two more shifts!) before that is possible.
Why am I rambling on about my hair?

I read a beautiful piece today in the paper by Garrison Keillor, one of my favorite authors.

Enjoy:


I was in Santa Monica for a day last week, sampling baked figs at the farmers’ market on the Third Street promenade, a sweet sunny day that makes an old Midwesterner like me a little nervous. We fear seduction. Some days in California are so tender and delicious that a person could abandon all commitments and wind up living in blissful stupor in some cult devoted to the worship of the sky.

I have work to do. I haul it around in a black case the size of an anvil and when an hour or two opens up, in an airport or hotel, I dig in. I don’t lie on beaches, looking up at the sky. It’s blue in Santa Monica. You don’t have to look at it for long to figure that out.

My hotel was on the beach, so I headed back that way, crossing the Pacific Coast Highway on a pedestrian bridge. And there, 50 yards south of me, police cars and flashing blue lights. The northbound lanes of the PCH had been closed. A car sat in the middle lane, its rear end smashed in brutally. And south of it, a yellow tarp spread on the pavement. A body lay beneath it.
Then eight cops and EMTs lined up on either side of it, like pallbearers, and then they spread out a long white sheet which they held as a screen while the yellow tarp was pulled away and a police photographer took pictures with an enormous camera. A man in a dark suit bent over the body, studying it closely. The eight men stood quietly, hardly moving, and they looked straight at each other. They did not look at the body. It was a still-life scene, except for the flashing lights and the southbound traffic passing: eight men standing at attention, guarding a body, and two men moving with great delicacy around it, gathering evidence.

A blue sky over Santa Monica and on the beach, people lay on towels, sunning themselves. A few swimmers in the surf. Roller bladers out on the sidewalk and joggers, grunting about the presidential campaign. A day in which you’ve witnessed death takes on an aura of fragile loveliness. You breathe the salt air and you savor this on behalf of the dead and note the pencil-line delicacy of the long cane poles of the Japanese fishermen on the pier, the two triangles of white sail taut with wind on the distant boat, the skinny boy in blue trunks swinging high on the flying rings on the beach and soaring to the next set of rings. You see the portly man wade into the water and shudder as the water touches his testes and you feel it, the shudder of mortality. And visions of the fallen one stay with you.

A few hours later, online, news that the victim was a woman, 44, whose car had been rear-ended, that she had gotten out of her car and stood waiting for help to arrive and was struck and killed by a third vehicle. Her name was Alma and she was from Los Angeles.
The day goes on and though you don’t keep in mind the sight of the pallbearers around the body, the death attends you wherever you go. You imagine the woman’s plan for her day, maybe lunch in Malibu and a meeting at her kids’ school and supper and a movie afterward, a simple day in sunny L.A., and you abandon your own plan to work and instead you walk around looking at the shining world on behalf of Alma who died on the highway.

You buy a mango/papaya smoothie and a cafe mocha and in the face of death they are spectacular. You sit at a table in the brilliant sunshine, the light splashing off the stone facades and aluminum moldings. She was standing by her car waiting for help to arrive when she was struck by another vehicle and killed, and 30 minutes later men were standing at attention around her. It would be intolerable not to know the name of the woman. Attention must be paid. She trails alongside you as you walk into a bookstore full of art books and you pick up one with pictures of California beach houses, all whites and yellows and pale blues, sun-drenched rooms, bowls of flowers, cotton curtains, and the sea beyond. A beautiful world, Alma, and every day is a gift. I’m sorry you had to leave early.

Time to relax

I had another anxiety attack today before class. A small one, but hard enough. A small blessing, I suppose, as it reminded me to call Magellan when I get a chance.

So after a rather rewarding chemistry lab, I drove around town, ending up, as usual, at Flat Top. The city was gorgous, the sunset was various shades of ecstatic orange, and the night behind me was soft and gray. I loved it.
So I came home, and here I am, enjoying a very nice cup of tea and watching my favorite movie, Secretary. I love Lee Holloway, I have yet to find a movie I relate more to. The self-inflicted pain, the alcoholic father, Peter (the guy who dated her as a means to get what he wanted, not because he liked her), the overwhelming shyness, the natural submission, the need for dominance, even down to the damn orchids. Not mention the ending always makes me cry.
It's odd that I don't have this movie. I don't have any movies, (all I have is 3 seasons of Nip/Tuck) but I should buy this one, despite the fact I resent TV. I wish we didn't have one in the apartment.

I find myself longing for my place, a small little studio somewhere, someplace where I can just go home, relax, study, meditate, read, and not have to deal with room mates. There is nothing going on between us or anything, we all get a long great, but 4 people in a tiny 3 bedroom gets really cramped, and I am longing for alone time. I realized the other day I haven't any time alone in ages.

And thus, a conclusion in which absolutely nothing is concluded

So after a while of fidgeting about it, I finally managed to ask him what exactly we were.
Conclusion: No idea.
Cool.
But at least I asked, and some of my questions did get answered. I like him, he likes me, we work well together, but with just enough differences to keep him hesitant. He has issues with a previous partner he needs to work out. I am a firm believer that a successful relationship take compromise, he didn't seem to agree, but maybe it is because compromise can mean different things. I didn't mean a compromise in character by any means, merely a compromise/readjusting in goals and plans. He rambled on for nearly an hour on things he needed to talk about. It was nice to listen. He also feels that I'm a good person, whereas he doesn't believe he is (or at least to my extent). I wonder how long it will take him to realize I am just as fucked up, I just learned to hide it better. That should be interesting.
He tends to look down the road and see all the possibilities where a relationship between him and me could go wrong. Looking down the road, I can see them too, but I'm not there yet. I am right here. And right here, in this moment, I can see myself in a relationship with him, and would like to be. Down the road, I won't be the same person I am now, just as I am a different person now then I was a few months ago. 'Everything is subject to change' (says Buddha), and humans are definitely no exception, we are constantly evolving throughout our lives, especially when we are young.

Almost had it

I tried to ask him tonight, tried to get some clarification on how he felt about about him and me, what he wanted out of it.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?"
But he looked scared when I said it, even downright uncomfortable, so I changed what I was going to ask to "Can I have some water?"

Smooth, eh?
Shush.
So I flaked, even if his scared look was half in jest (we have an odd sense of humor).
I'll ask him later. For now I guess I'll enjoy the ride and try not to let anything I do screw it up.
To bed for a few hours before class.

How do I say it?

I've never been one to find myself confused about relationships.
Honestly.

Or even hesitant, for that matter, which is a fairly unusual quirk for me; I'm a fairly hesitant person. On the chart of spiral dynamics, I tend to hang out in the "green" stage (kudos to any random reader who knows what that is.) In most situations, I am nearly has hesitant as Hamlet, without all the angst. But with relationships I tend to throw all caution to the wind and say "What the hell?" Why not? Who knows what psychological yarn balls of entangled delight and intrigue I will find? (Odd analogy, I know. Run with it). I've had some pretty damn good relationships because of it, Z in particular, and some really really really shitty ones.

It makes life interesting, to say the least.

But now I find myself attracted to a friend, and I know he's attracted to me as well, but there is a lot of hesitation there, on both sides. A big reason is due to professional reasons; He is an employee for a company I work for, and while for me this is just a passing job, for him this is his career. And the company has specific rules about inter-company relations, which we are breaking, thus risking his career.
But I'm quitting my job. This is my last week. I decided to quit because my school was falling behind, and my anxiety was raising, severely. But as soon as I've worked my last shift, anything he and I do will be perfectly kosher. It hit me a few days ago: Once I'm done, where does that leave us?

He's an amazing guy with awesome geeky interests. He's still in love with his ex. Ouch, nothing much I can do about that. I prefer someone who is more dominant. But what is cute is that he is actually putting effort into being more dominant. He'll spank and hit and bite and restrain me, knowing I like it. He prefers women who are a little more physically aggressive. And I find myself being a little more aggressive then my usual shy self when I'm around him.

And yet, when I try to talk about what I've been dying to talk about, I get shyer then I have ever found myself. What are we? Why are we hesitating? Does he want anything more, like a relationship, or would he prefer to leave things as is. What would his idea of a relationship entail, anyways? I am just a side trip on his journey to find The One?
Usually I have no problem with communicating like this, but for some reason I am facing difficulty. I really like this guy, and would love to pursue things further, but I don't want to pressure him into anything he is reluctant to go into. I just want him to be happy.

He seems happy enough when we're together. He's very physical, which makes me happy because I am a physical person as well. He's not afraid to cuddle or curl up while we watch movies. He'll kiss me at random times. We laugh and joke a lot.
Why do I hesitate?
We've only been doing this for about two months. I really don't want to fuck up this friendship by pushing for something he may not want.
I wanted to talk about it last time when I visited him last night, but we both fell asleep before I had much of a chance. I'm trying to attack this from a Buddhist standpoint, and just enjoy the moment, regardless of the uncertainty. But it's hard, humans don't like being uncertain.

Baby Steps

I am taking steps to reduce my anxiety.
Small ones, but important ones.

I got sick Wednesday night, which resulted in me going to the student health office for a doctors appointment. I was told, the even though it was only a viral infection, due to my anxiety attack Sunday afternoon, I should take the day off, and not go to work the next day either.

Not working helped, a lot. I slept in. I got 12 hours of sleep, ate breakfast and then slept some more. No surprise, I had only gotten 16 total hours of sleep between Sunday night and Wednesday morning.

I dropped my stupid online class. The design of the class was poorly written, and it was causing more stress then is was worth. It is an easy class, but I kept missing assignments because they were in a different folder, or he would post them, then not inform us. I will not fail an easy class because the teacher isn't properly using the university's online web system. It isn't his fault entirely, I was at fault too, but he could have been more effective.

I feel better.

While at the doctors office, I told her of my missed cycle. She ran a pregnancy test, but, as expected, it was negative. I am on birth control, and after the incident an emergency contraceptive was administered 12 hours afterward, well within the time period for it to be most effective. The doctor told me that women under immense stress will often miss their periods but to the hormonal imbalance stress causes.

That's right. I am so stressed right now, my body won't even menstruate. Cute.

But I'm feeling better. Looking over the post I wrote about my anxiety attack, I was shocked to realize that I only wrote about half of the actual things that I've been stressed about. No wonder I had an attack.

Palin: Pro-Rape

I post this because I lived in Wasilla under Palin. Because Palin's pro-life stance is so extreme, it is no longer pro-life, it is pro-rape. Because I am a woman who lives in a state with one of the highest rape rate per capita. Because my sister in law was just raped. Because no woman should be charged $1200 after enduring a brutal rape. (Thank goodness Knowles got rid of that law.)September 15, 2008
Life begins at rape... ask Mayor Sarah Palin
By Shannyn Moore
Can you imagine having to pay for the CSI (crime scene investigation-fingerprinting, photography, etc) if your home was robbed? What if a bill came for the breathalyzer tests if you'd been hit by a drunk driver? When Sarah Palin was mayor, the city of Wasilla had the most egregious policy against victims of rape in the state of Alaska, possibly the entire country. The rape kit, a set of items used by medical personnel for gathering and preserving physical evidence following a sexual assault, was charged to the victim. (note: step 6)
I sat with a rape victim during the "harvesting of evidence". Mascara smeared eyes stared blankly out from a cave of shame. "We've got swimmers," announced the forensic tech in the lab next door. My friend didn't look surprised. In her 60's, she was still asked if she felt the need for emergency contraception. Surviving the process would have only been compounded and made worse with an itemized bill; victimized twice courtesy of Sarah Palin and the city of Wasilla.
Much can be learned about the Palin Administration's family values from reviewing their spending priorities. Former Chief of Police Irl Stambaugh included forensic rape kits (up to $1,200 per kit) in his budget requests. He was fired by Palin in 1997. In her termination letter, Palin wrote, "…I do not feel I have your full support in my efforts to govern the city of Wasilla. Therefore I intend to terminate your employment. . . " Staumbaugh headed the police department since it was created in 1993. Before that, he served 22 years with the Anchorage Police Department rising to the rank of captain. Sarah Palin hired Charlie Fannon as the new Wasilla Chief of Police and said it was one of her best decisions as mayor. Fannon eliminated the forensic rape kits from the budget. Though the number of rapes weren't reported, Fannon claimed it would save Wasilla taxpayers $5,000 to $14,000 a year.
When Eric Croft, a Democrat Legislator from Anchorage, learned of Wasilla's policy, he drafted HB 270, which Governor Tony Knowles signed into law. The new law made it illegal for any law enforcement agency to bill victims or victims' insurance companies for the costs of examinations to collect evidence of a sexual assault or determine if a sexual assault actually occurred. Upon signing the law, Governor Knowles said, "We would never bill the victim of a burglary for the cost of gathering evidence, nor should we bill rape victims just because the crime scene happens to be their bodies."
Wasilla Police Chief Fannon protested the new law stating it would require the city and communities to come up with more funds to cover the costs of the forensic exams. Really? Are the true costs of sexual assault and forcible rape in a community only measured and reflected in the dollars spent on the forensic rape kit?
Alaska has the nation's highest per-capita rate of forcible rape. A disproportionate number of rape and sexual assault victims are Native Alaskan women. Alaska Native people in Anchorage were 9.7 times more likely to be sexually assaulted than others living in the city between 2000 and 2003. Alaska crime statistics never seemed to make a "Northern Exposure" episode. But this isn't about statistics-real lives were affected by Palin's regressive policies. One thing Alaska can't seem to export is the fundamental information around a woman's rights. Alaska "liberalized" abortion laws before Roe v. Wade. Our dirty secret had to do with a woman's right to be safe from rapists. This right to choose was not only threatened, but abolished with Sarah Palin's archaic policy as Mayor of Wasilla. The rape kit included emergency contraception. To be sure, emergency contraception is not, nor does it cause an abortion. In fact, ec prevents pregnancy and therefore reduces abortions.
Under Palin's Administration, "Life Begins at Rape" for women unable to pay for their forensic evidence gathering. Justice is served to women who can afford it and denied for those who can't. I live in Alaska-the wealthiest of the 50 states! Forcing rape victims to pay for their own forensic rape kits is something one would expect to find in a fundamentalist country overseas. I have outrage fatigue. I can't decide which facet of this policy is more upsetting. Is it the denial of justice for the poor? Is it the punishment of women who had been raped? Is it the political policies of a woman so entrenched in the "Pro-Life" movement she would deny justice to a victim? This is not a "Pro-Life" policy. This is a "Pro-Rapist" policy, and forced pregnancy policy.
It should be noted Joe Biden introduced legislation to fund rape kits to women in America. John McCain voted against it.
When Sarah Palin was elected Alaska's first female governor, I hoped these issues would be addressed as part of her "historic" platform. When Amnesty International published their study on rape statistics and Alaskan women, the response was pathetic. The now dismissed Commissioner of Public Safety, Walt Monegan, acknowledged the lack of law enforcement in Alaska as part of the problem. Since that time, Walt Monegan has been fired and $2.5 million dollars threatened from the budget for State Troopers. John Cyr is executive director of the Public Safety Employees Association, and has been very critical of the Palin administration's commitment to keep Alaskan's safer.
Under the Palin Administration, a law was passed that specifically deals with rapists. I am not making this up. It is now illegal for Alaskans to buy or sell the "Rapist No. 1" doll. Oh, you haven't heard of it? It's an "action figure" from Quentin Tarantino's film "Grindhouse." Yes, really. So now if you're raped, you can take comfort in knowing Alaska outlawed an action figure.
For all the Alaskans who have taken the charge to protect fellow citizens from predators, this was A GIANT WASTE OF TIME. It's embarrassing to write this. Who in the hell has been prosecuted for this "outrageous" purchase. Did she think people in Alaska with the propensity to rape women were suddenly dissuaded because they couldn't buy a movie action figure?
If Alaska's sexual assault statistics were true for the rest of the country, rape would be considered an epidemic and the National Guard would be called up. As Mayor and Governor, Sarah Palin has made justice illusive to criminals and forensics a commodity that victims must purchase. Meanwhile, rape prevention sits on the backburner. Being a rape victim isn't necessary for outrage. You don't need ovaries to protect the physical sanctity of fellow citizens. Life does not begin at rape, it just gets harder.

posted at http://alaskareport.com/news98/x61620_rape_palin.htm

Anxiety Attack

I had to leave work early yesterday because I had a really severe anxiety attack. I ended up going to the clinic at the hospital.

People ask me what triggered it. That's the thing, there is no one thing that triggered it, but many small things. I am feeling pressure and facing problems from all sides of my life, every aspect.


....work has been killing me lately I've been trying to get more time off and it hasn't been working and there is a new coworker I have to deal with who is a real dick and actually had the nerve to put up a picture of himself surrounded by several scantly clad women and I was just appalled by the nerve of him and how sexist he was and I am too exhausted after work to study when I come home so i just crash in front of the computer and I am falling behind in my classes which I hate myself for so I typed my two weeks notice on saturday night because I need more time to focus on school and I feel back about having to quit my job because my parents work so hard to support me and its not fair to them because now they're going to have to spend more money to support me full time and

....breathe......

why did she have to go down to Texas in the middle of a freaking hurricane I was kinda owrried about her even though I figured she would be safe I still had that nagging "what if" running through my head and what will happen when the rest of my famliy finds out I am Buddhist its not really a big secret and they're are bound to find out sooner or later especially since I hope to one day become ordained and then what will they say my mom will be so stressed because she tries so hard to keep the peace in the family and this will definately disrupt that hard-earned peace

....breathe....

there is guy I really like and I know he has feelings for me too but he is so hesitant about jumping into anything for different reasons and I was stupid and told him I didnt ever really want kids because I didn't want him to see me as just a walking uterus who is only good for popping out kids and even though actually I wouldn't mind having a kid of my own and there was an incident earlier this month and now I can't help wondering if an accident could have happened even though I am on birth control and took a Plan B the morning after and I know I am probably over reacting but still I can't help but worry and all I want is for him to just be him happy well I would like to date him but I don't want to pressure him into anything if he is reluctant or hesistant so I just want him to be happy I want to make him happy but what if we did get into something and I fail him like I've failed in my previous relationships and

...breathe....

and what am I going to do after school I would like to do something with Volunteers for Peace and Doctors Without Borders as well but what if I spend all this time trying to get my degree and I find out that I am not good at it and then it is all that time and money wasted and I want to become an ordained Buddhist but when will I find the time and who would teach a wreck like me and with all this anxiety I am a lousy Buddhist

...breathe.....

...breathe.....

...breathe................

Polar Bears

A piece written by my favorite feminists, Eve Ensler. It reflects my feelings perfectly in regards to Sarah Palin, my state's governor.


I am having Sarah Palin nightmares. I dreamt last night that she was a member of a club where they rode snowmobiles and wore the claws of drowned and starved polar bears around their necks. I have a particular thing for Polar Bears. Maybe it's their snowy whiteness or their bigness or the fact that they live in the arctic or that I have never seen one in person or touched one. Maybe it is the fact that they live so comfortably on ice. Whatever it is, I need the polar bears.

I don't like raging at women. I am a Feminist and have spent my life trying to build community, help empower women and stop violence against them. It is hard to write about Sarah Palin. This is why the Sarah Palin choice was all the more insidious and cynical. The people who made this choice count on the goodness and solidarity of Feminists.

But everything Sarah Palin believes in and practices is antithetical to Feminism which for me is part of one story -- connected to saving the earth, ending racism, empowering women, giving young girls options, opening our minds, deepening tolerance, and ending violence and war.

I believe that the McCain/Palin ticket is one of the most dangerous choices of my lifetime, and should this country chose those candidates the fall-out may be so great, the destruction so vast in so many areas that America may never recover. But what is equally disturbing is the impact that duo would have on the rest of the world. Unfortunately, this is not a joke. In my lifetime I have seen the clownish, the inept, the bizarre be elected to the presidency with regularity.

Sarah Palin does not believe in evolution. I take this as a metaphor. In her world and the world of Fundamentalists nothing changes or gets better or evolves. She does not believe in global warming. The melting of the arctic, the storms that are destroying our cities, the pollution and rise of cancers, are all part of God's plan. She is fighting to take the polar bears off the endangered species list. The earth, in Palin's view, is here to be taken and plundered. The wolves and the bears are here to be shot and plundered. The oil is here to be taken and plundered. Iraq is here to be taken and plundered. As she said herself of the Iraqi war, "It was a task from God."

Sarah Palin does not believe in abortion. She does not believe women who are raped and incested and ripped open against their will should have a right to determine whether they have their rapist's baby or not.

She obviously does not believe in sex education or birth control. I imagine her daughter was practicing abstinence and we know how many babies that makes.

Sarah Palin does not much believe in thinking. From what I gather she has tried to ban books from the library, has a tendency to dispense with people who think independently. She cannot tolerate an environment of ambiguity and difference. This is a woman who could and might very well be the next president of the United States. She would govern one of the most diverse populations on the earth.

Sarah believes in guns. She has her own custom Austrian hunting rifle. She has been known to kill 40 caribou at a clip. She has shot hundreds of wolves from the air.

Sarah believes in God. That is of course her right, her private right. But when God and Guns come together in the public sector, when war is declared in God's name, when the rights of women are denied in his name, that is the end of separation of church and state and the undoing of everything America has ever tried to be.

I write to my sisters. I write because I believe we hold this election in our hands. This vote is a vote that will determine the future not just of the U.S., but of the planet. It will determine whether we create policies to save the earth or make it forever uninhabitable for humans. It will determine whether we move towards dialogue and diplomacy in the world or whether we escalate violence through invasion, undermining and attack. It will determine whether we go for oil, strip mining, coal burning or invest our money in alternatives that will free us from dependency and destruction. It will determine if money gets spent on education and healthcare or whether we build more and more methods of killing. It will determine whether America is a free open tolerant society or a closed place of fear, fundamentalism and aggression.

If the Polar Bears don't move you to go and do everything in your power to get Obama elected then consider the chant that filled the hall after Palin spoke at the RNC, "Drill Drill Drill." I think of teeth when I think of drills. I think of rape. I think of destruction. I think of domination. I think of military exercises that force mindless repetition, emptying the brain of analysis, doubt, ambiguity or dissent. I think of pain.

Do we want a future of drilling? More holes in the ozone, in the floor of the sea, more holes in our thinking, in the trust between nations and peoples, more holes in the fabric of this precious thing we call life?

School venting

I'm having a hard time keeping up with my classes, especially my online Technical Writing class. t is so insanely frustrating, the professor puts different assignments in different places. Style assignments are in this folder, reading assignments are in that folder, online class discussion posts are in this folder, and I can't even find the folder where writing assignment expectations is located. It sounds organized, but in reality it is not. I wish he would make a list of when things are due, instead of posting the due dates on each individual assignment, so now I have to look at through every folder, at every assignment, and hope I don't overlook anything, which I usually do.

I'm trying to find a way to improve my use of time (she claims, as she blogs at 3am while watching an old Deep Space 9 episode >.<), but its proving harder then expected. Fortunately my boss finally cut back my work hours, which means more time for school.

So, work for tomorrow:
* see math tutor about chapter 8.1-8.5
* review o-chem
* finish writing assignments
* start english portfolio
* review Japanese katakana a-so
* feed the snake. :)

...okay, so that last one is school related, but I've becomed so consumed by school that I fear I've been neglecting poor Khaliyah lately. I have a baby mouse in the freezer with her name on it, I'll feed her tomorrow. I've been considering using a small portion of my PFD and buying another ball python to put in with her. I wonder if she gets lonely.


I have been getting closer with a friend of mine, as I may have mentioned in one of my earlier postings. He has come to mean a lot to me, but I will admit fear. He seems to pursue an ideal of perfection, one that I fear I will not live up to. He worries too much that he cannot please me, that I will get bored of him, even though I doubt I would. Its rather ironic, because I find myself fearing holding the same fears. He's funny, smart, kind, and a geek. What more could a woman want?
I wish he wouldn't worry so much. We keep very quiet about it when we hang out, but there have been a few times, especially when he has had a few drinks, where he is much more talkative about the subject, which makes me feel uneasy, for while I don't doubt the honesty of his inebreated words, I would rather have such conversations while he is sober (he usually doesn't remember the conversations later on). He wants me, and yet he doesn't.

While I would like to further out relationship, more importantly I simply want him to be happy, whether it means I remain his friend, or our relationship evolves into something more. Just as long as he finds happiness.

Pre-bed Blogging

Lately life has been....well life just is.
School has been keeping me really busy, I've had a few slight slip-ups (forgetting a text book or a homework), but fortunately it is nothing too big and I'm doing pretty good so far.
My favorite class so far is definitely the Zen Buddhism class, taught by the Soto Priest of our local zen community. I'm learning so much, and our homework is 10 minutes of zazen every night. Nifty, eh?
Money has been very tight lately, and our rent is going to be late this month, it will be paid this Friday for sure, but with an annoying late fee which should add $75.
Darren is going through a hard time because his online PFD application didn't go through, so not only is he not getting his PFD, but he won't get his energy relief check either. Poor guy. I feel sorry for him, and I have a feeling he'll be moving out of state to join his family in a few months. I hope he doesn't though, I enjoy living with him and Zach.
Time for sleep. I'll blog more when I'm more awake.

And so the Insanity Begins....

School started yesterday, and already I am exhausted.
Monday morning started wiuth Japanese, a fun class with an interesting teacher. Because of my heavy credit load, I've decided to audit this class and take it again next semester for credit. Right now I've busy studying 15 of the hiragana symbols. I find it very interesting.

After that is Computer Information Systems. I wish I had taken this class earlier in my school career, it looks like its going to be pretty easy.

Then on to math. I admit, I am a bit weary about the math class, but I am determined to get through it.

After I got home, I jumped online and worked on my online course, technical writing. It was easy so far, but it looks like its going to be a heavy homework load.

Tonight its chemistry and the accompanying lab. I am nervous about the lab, I didn't buy the text book I need, so I am waiting for my dad to transfer money into my account to help me pay for it.

My best friend.

Saturday.
A week from today.
I am going to visit my best friend, Sony, at the fair.
And tell her how I feel. That she is the best friend a girl could ask for. That I love her. That I will miss her and cry when she does.
I dont want her to go. But I am happy she has such a wonderful opportunity.
Sonja fucking rocks. ^_^

Moonlight.

A little extra money came my way, so I now have something other then oatmeal to eat.

I also bought a card for my boss, hoping it will lift her spirits. She's having a really rough time right now.

And volume 2 of Sandman. I love that comic.

Tonight Darren and I walked to the grocery store. Usually we drive, but it was so nice out tonight we decided to walk. He pointed out a beautiful full moon, and we spent a few minutes just standing in the street, enjoying the night.

Time for dinner :)

Shoes and Zen

Well, actually, it wasn't that long at all. It was just really busy at work, busier then I like it to be. I'm getting better about my attitude during rushed and stressful situations, adjusting to it more, but it can still be overwhelming.
I'm thinking about applying for a student position at the university. There is one position that I've had my eye on for quite some time and now I think I will finally fill out the application tomorrow.

I just found out that the guy teaching my Zen Buddhism class is actually the head priest of the Soto Zen community here.
Cool.
I was looking at the website, and I think I may drag myself to a few of the early morning zazen sessions. My current goal is to do two a week during this semester. If I think I can handle more, I will, if it becomes too much, I'll ease up on it. They also have a few evening ones as well :) I never was much of an early bird.

My friend Lara isn't doing well at the moment, shes jobless, broke, and soon, homeless. I offered her my couch until she can get back on her feet. I adore the woman, she's one of the biggest dorks and always makes me smile. I hope life picks up for her.

I found some awesome shoes that I'm going to buy with tomorrow's paycheck. I love shoes, though I'm not one of insanely shoe-obsessed women. I have a pair of well-worn Burkinstocks, my shoes I wear to work, a pair of sneakers for working out it, two pairs of heels, and a pair of knee-high boots. The pair I'm buying tomorrow are comfy all-black converse. I always feel short when I wear all-stars because they have absolutely no heel, but they're so damn comfortable that I don't care. I'm also going to pick up a few more long sleeved t-shirts and some camis while they're still on sale. Huzzah for sales, the salvation of broke college students everywhere. I was going to pick up a bike lock this week too, but there's no rush, so next week's pay can easily cover it.

I want to get into something of a routine this semester. Aside from work, class, and study time, I'm going to try to make it to a few zazen sessions a week, and maybe even yoga at the studio, but if I can't do that, there's always yoga videos until I can afford to go back. And the college gym is free for me, so I might as well use it. I find myself yearning to get involved in life. I'll feel better once I'm in class and learning. I can't wait, even if this semester's classes aren't the most exciting, they will lead to more exciting classes.

School looms ahead...

I'm starting to get into school mode.

My classes for this semester are:
- Math (my last one)
- English (also my last one, and a web class as well)
- Computer Science
- Chemistry
- Chemistry Lab
- Japanese I (probably going to be dropped within the first week)
- Zen Buddhism


18 credits in all, and I still plan on keeping my job. Am I insane? I'm beginning to think so.

My dad and I had lunch today. He had to go grocery shopping, so we picked up a bite to eat at the deli and some coffee. He even bought me a type of lotion my doctor recommended I wear to help prevent skin cancer (I'm pretty high risk) and handed me gas money. What a sweet guy.

Afterwards I met up with my mom. I haven't seen her in ages, a month maybe? She wanted to buy me school clothes. The store was having a 50% off sale for school, and I bought a ton of comfy t-shirts, a camosol, and awesome panties. Who doesn't love panties? My style in shirts has always been pretty simple: solid colors, usually black, dark purple, or dark red, (but also pink, green or blue if they're comfy enough.) I rarely buy any kind of pattern shirt unless its cute, funny, or comfy. It's also cheap, all of my shirts today costs $16 or less.

Then came the hard part: bra shopping. I hate bra shopping with a passion. I never find one that fits, and when I do, its usually $60 to $90 bucks. Ouch. My bra size is 34H, which is unusual because its a large bust and tiny waist, so finding a good bra is damn near impossible. Fortunately Lena, who also shares my woe, told me of a great local boutique that specializes in larger bras, and will even special order. The lady who fitted me was awesome, and told me of some great companies that carry my size (Fantasie and Freya). I was sooo excited, this is the first time I've gone bra shopping without ending up in tears afterwards due to frustraition. I now own three bras that actually fit me. I think I'll ask for one every christmas/birthday, after a while I may even end up with a decent wardrobe.
I also bought a laundry basket, which I know sounds weird, but I've been wanting a smaller one for ages. My old one is clunky and huge, and my room is so small that it takes up too much space. Yay for unexciting yet necessary things.

I talked to Dad about opening up a CD account. I have about $3000 coming my way soon, and I want to sit on it for a while and let it grow. He's good with financial stuff like that.

I can't wait for school, I find myself craving to study, to learn. I love learning, I've never been one of those students who hates school. I just wish it wasn't so damn expensive. Next week I'm going to get my text books and supplies, I hope it won't cost too much. Fortunately I have two of the text books from previous semesters.

Thoughts before bed.

This past week I have been getting very close with a friend of mine. He is a dork, quite sweet, and over-all one of the coolest people I've ever met. We talk about the most random things, he doesn't seem to mind my klutziness or spastic ADD mind constantly jumping from one thought to the next. I love making new friends, being with friends I don't normally see, and getting to know them better.

It feels good to smile.

A Toast to the Path I Did Not Take

I like to walk in the park near my apartment. It has a few paved paths, but the real fun lies in the spiderweb labyrinth of narrow dirt trails that weave themselves through the woods. I'm always reminded of the painfully over-used Frost stanza, "Two paths diverged into the woods..."

And that, in turn, reminds me of the choices I did not make, the paths I passed by. My older sisters are all married, Jenny a month after her 20th birthday, Amanda at 22, and Carrie around the same age. The first two pop out children fast enough to make your head spin (They're all really cute kids though). My little sister is a devout Mormon who will undoubtedly go to Brigham Young University in search of her MRS degree.

I, on the other hand, inherited my father's intense need for travel, love of companionship, and slight fear of commitement. I could have followed my sisters. I could have married my high school sweetheart, saved up for a nice little house in suburbia, or go to college, meet a nice guy, spend $40,000 on a degree I would never use because I would be at home raising his kids. I don't have anything against people who marry, or have kids. It's just I was never one of those women who's biggest goal was a wedding. I would rather elope at city hall and spend the money on a kick-ass honeymoon roaming Nepal, getting lost in Japan, scuba diving in Austrailia, running with bulls in Pamplona, or visiting sex clubs in Amsterdam.

I have nothing against kids, honestly, I just plan on never giving birth to one. I would rather adopt, or if the guy already had kids from another relationship, spoil the hell out of them ^_^ Some people would have issues raising another person's kid, but honestly I would prefer it. There are so many kids in this world who need good parents, I cannot morally justify having my own kids when I know there are those out there who need a loving family. Being a stay at home mom was never on my list of life-goals. (Stay-at-home dads, on the other hand, are awesome. I couldn't find any on Craig's list though. Maybe the new models aren't out yet, Sweden bought all the last ones.)

A lot of people in my high school class got married/engaged in our senior year. That was their plan to mature, their only way out, their statement of adulthood. Life would be better for them, because they had a ring on their finger. While the logic is laughable, there is comfort in having a companion at your side as you stumble through life, especially the hard years of youn adulthood, years of crappy low paying jobs, living below poverty, getting into debt in the name of education. To have someone eases the stressfulness of starting out. I can understand that. The choices we make, the paths we choose, define us. I don't believe in a divine plan, and while most Buddhist believe in reincarnation, I can't guarantee that either. Why bother worrying about what-comes-next? Why not focus on what-is-now?

I could have had this:

Me and my high school sweetie, Stoner, with a kid. (Portrayed by the lovely Morgan Bacon, my awesome niece.)I could have had this. But I don't. It's not the path I chose.


Instead, so far, I've gotten this:


Late night, stressed-out, caffine-induced cramming for classes and finals



Bellydancing all summer long and perfecting my shimmy


Drunken room mates




Techni-colored hair



Amazing raves with beautiful music pulsing through the night


Alcohol-induced naughtiness


10 body piercings (and more modifications coming soon)


One snake, a cute baby ball python


Crazy, uber-dorky friends



Dancing until the sun came up



Beautiful submission.



A couple of driving mis-adventures (easily remedied by duct tape)



Interesting bruises.



World Travel. I've covered France, Italy, Monaco, Sweden, Finland, Norway, Russian, Estonia, Germany, Denmark, Canada so far.


Buddhism and spiritual discovery.


Quiet moments filled with peace and happiness. Times of sorrow and frustration, days of anxiety and fear, moments of joy, of contentment, of wonder.

*********************************

I will never be the type of person who says "I have no regrets." Of course I have regrets. I make mistakes, large and small, every single day and I've done stuff I'm not proud of. But that's how we learn, from both our successed and our failures. This is the path I choose, and it would be foolish of me not to enjoy traveling it.