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[31 Dec 2009|02:52pm] |
Happy New Year everyone!
Nee, geen feestjes hier. Wel proberen lekker te koken en een flesje spumante opendoen, maar al de andere hysterie met aftellen en vuurwerk, nee, deze keer niet. Hopelijk hoeven we daar nooit meer aan mee te doen.
Voor terugblikken op 2009 is mijn geheugen te slecht, dat laat ik voor een andere keer, ooit. Voornemens voor 2010: mooie reizen maken, weinig tot geen vlees/vis eten en een nieuwe job (daar ben ik nu al sceptisch over want dat wilde ik vorig jaar ook, maar afijn, hoopvol blijven?). Uitmaken waar ik eigenlijk naartoe wil. Ha. Right.
En misschien eens beginnen denken over trouwen, want ja, we zijn verloofd en daar ben ik heel blij mee. Alleen al denken aan een zaal die groot genoeg is om mijn monsterlijke familie in te proppen (die ik er eigenlijk helemaal niet bij wil) maakt dat idee van trouwen zelf al een pak minder aanlokkelijk. Verloofd zijn, dát is romantisch! Laat ons dat nog maar even volhouden. Een jaartje of 20.
Veel plezier iedereen!
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| nothing like a girl you've seen before |
[30 Dec 2009|11:20am] |
I saw Precious with Greer last night. Uncomfortable good times were had by all. I'm inclined to not mention Mo'Nique's performance because everyone else doing it, but she was pretty intensely brutal. Though I know very little about acting, whenever I see someone playing a character who is genuinely ugly in some "real" way, I feel like they are being really brave and doing something that resonates with me more than anything.
Some other thoughts about the movie ~in relation to myself~, and includes ( minor spoilers, but nothing you probably didn't already know if you've read any reviews )
But the most important item of information I need to share with you about Precious is that Mariah Carey HAD A MUSTACHE!!!! She was also a billion times sexier in that movie than I've ever seen her, and not just because she yelled at Precious' mom to stop being mean. I'd also like to start a petition for more movie/TV close-ups of actors' acne. That needs to happen more. Seriously, people are beautiful on their own, and movies are beautiful on their own. The acne can stay.
Actually the most important item of information that I need to share is that I found this interview on YouTube with Gabourey Sidibe and Paula Patton, and did some screencapping, of... you know. Like I do. LOOK AT THE VARIETY OF WAYS SHE FINDS TO TOUCH HER
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| when the roof caved in |
[29 Dec 2009|02:05pm] |
I saw Sherlock Holmes with my family over break. It was fun, and gay. I thought I was all smart/observant for saying how Sherlock and Watson were so much like House and Wilson, but, haha, ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) mitchco informed me that House/Wilson are actually based on Sherlock/Watson (the books). Friends smarter than me, I knew I kept you around for a reason.
It should also be noted that the last two movies I have recently seen (The Road and Sherlock Holmes) both failed the Bechdel test, which is: do two female characters talk in the movie about something other than men? Neither movie even had two female characters talking to each other about ANYTHING. Disgusting. Also disgusting: before Sherlock Holmes started, I must have seen about 10 previews, and in every single one, EVERY SINGLE ONE, the main character was a man (or group of men). What. the. fuck. Movies, you blow. I want to vomit down your metaphorical backs. TV > Movies.
Lastly, in the movie theater, I was sitting next to my sister, and my mom. During the preview for Spartacus: Blood and Sand, I made this comment to Krystal, but I was pretty loud, and reasonably sure my mother heard me, but I wasn't concerned because I had no idea this was going to happen. Please note the below timestamps.
Around 1:04: me: KRYSTAL! IT'S XENA! HOORAY!
1:10: [happens]
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| where they need no star to guide |
[27 Dec 2009|02:27pm] |
I went to Bloomington this morning to visit my old church, where I went when I was at IU. I haven't been in...four years? When I saw Annette, the pastor there, she hugged me and I said, You got so skinny. Besides that, and the children getting older, almost everything was the same. Even the sweet little doxology, that they somehow found, compared to the heavy low doxology of every other church I've been to. Even the faces she made sitting behind the podium, like when a baby started coughing and she heard it and she looked so concerned like a reflex. She has a southern accent and a couple of times she said "pen" and I thought she said "pin." When her husband was reading a passage from the Bible, he accidentally said "twerrified" instead of "terrified" and they both started laughing. It was like this tiny pocket of safety and happiness and everything good.
Her sermon was about the shepherds, how to everyone else they were dirty and disgusting. But when Jesus was born they saw him, and he was born to the world, not to the church. She said at her daughter's school a while ago, the kids had a hobby show and a bunch of the girls had written on their displays, "Boys are not allowed to look!" There was a boy who had a kind of pathetic-looking display but he had written, "Anyone can look."
After the service Annette asked me what my plans were for the rest of the day, and because I am a crazy person I freaked out that she'd think I was weird or whatever for only coming to Bloomington to see her, so I lied and said I was getting lunch with friends. And I was so nervous, and I just hurried off. But I don't know if I even really wanted to talk that much, I just wanted to remember she exists. I think that being a pastor, she probably has all these people hanging on her, wanting her help and her attention, and I was always so afraid of doing that. So I over-correct and think I should leave her alone. Besides, what do I want anyway? Today I looked at her during church and felt like my heart was going to explode. Why am I still doing this? What is wrong with me? I am 27 and all year this is the strongest I have felt.
I cried a little bit during my drive back to Indianapolis. I've built up this dichotomy in my brain where everything good is back in Boston. But I haven't felt like that since... I can't remember when. I felt this undercurrent of warmth, but of course that doesn't last. I got mad at myself for all the times I skipped church or declined opportunities for more involvement with that church while I was still at IU, probably immersed in whatever stupid relationship I was in. But I think I must have known even then that when you are hungry like that nothing is going to be enough.
When my first relationship ended and I couldn't talk to my mom about it, I asked Annette to meet me for lunch to talk to me about it and she did. She was the person who told me, "Sometimes break-ups are harder than death, because at least in death you can think of this person you love, in the same way." I remember when I sat next to her during an IU basketball game and our arms touched and it didn't seem to bother her.
How does this feeling get so diluted? On the road -- there must be a name for this phenomenon, or better description -- the wind was blowing around either the salt or the thin layer of snow, and there were these white clouds swiveling around. Like flat ghosts, almost touching the ground but not quite, lost or slinking away.
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[24 Dec 2009|02:01am] |
Seriously. I want YOU to look at my photos.
Some of them are downright amazing. Go look. Go click. BE IN AWE.
I have Stats, goddamnit, and I am not afraid to use them!!!!
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[23 Dec 2009|08:59pm] |
| [ |
music |
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smog, renee died 1:45. |
] |
(The Now and the Now.)
Maybe if you can match your heartbeat
to mine, we
can reach the same place, clogged
with fog and frost,
where we can sleep it off. This
could be the way we get even
with one another, finally,
the way
we bury one another
in the crust or in the sea or
in the dizzy space
between the sun and me.
I thought
there was something else you needed to tell me,
some hint. I promise you
my bag of jewelery,
the length of wet neck,
the open hand and the little bones
that stretch it.
Tell me. I know
there was something else.
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| sweet dreams |
[23 Dec 2009|09:03pm] |
whaaaaaaaaaaat the fuck is this? this is the most lesbian d/s-y thing I've seen on television TO DATE.
(note of trekkery explanation: for Seven [the blond woman], "regenerate" means "sleep.")
p.s. why is my family so weird? my dad got mad at my mom for ...something and stopped answering questions we asked him, and then he wrote on a piece of paper "his name is John." note of Biblical explanation: before John the Baptist was born, his father, Zechariah, stopped talking, and when everyone was trying to figure out what to name his son, he wrote on a tablet, "his name is John." so, it was a joke, except also not really, because my dad didn't talk for at least an hour. roughly half of my DNA is from this person.
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| TOXIC FROG |
[23 Dec 2009|06:25pm] |
I had the dumbest dream last night. My mom and I were walking along a creek/river of some sort, and from out of the water and onto the shore rolled up TOXIC FROG. Toxic Frog is a tiny frog who gives off lethal gasses, and to protect everyone from dying from his gasses, he concoctted a neon orange-and-green plastic toy car to surround him. The really weird part is that Toxic Frog is actually dead, and when he died, energy was released that created the protective car. So... Toxic Frog is a dead frog driving around in a plastic car giving off poisonous gasses.
What a waste, subconscious.
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| it's not right. but it's okay. I'm gonna make it anyway. |
[22 Dec 2009|10:48pm] |
Most of this is already on my Facebook, so if you've already looked thaaaaare, don't click unless you want to see this shit TWICE! (Why wouldn't you?!?) ( photos and videos from Dollywood )
On my drive back I stopped in Cincinnati to get Skyline Chili with mitchco and psychopeg. "What is that movie with Steve Carrell? He's a writer? With a family?" "Jumanji?" Also, "You think your personal trainer doesn't talk badly about you behind your back because you have a secure attachment style."
Also, I need a shirt that says "I went to Dollywood and all I got was this flu virus." Ugh. I feel so shitty. Off to sleep... but in conclusion, I think everyone should take a trip by themselves at least once in their lives. It was relaxing and peaceful, and definitely lonely at times, but also an exercise in exploration and self-comfort. "An exercise in" omg who the fuck am I? Your elementary school teacher?
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| Elephant Woman. |
[21 Dec 2009|12:05am] |
Your hand fell over my thigh, was hot and wet and nervous, and around us it was so dark I briefly convinced myself that crawling up my spine was something, something, something, and not just the cloudy, stinging sensation of waking up from a dream.
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| you think you're so pretty |
[20 Dec 2009|08:56pm] |
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Greetings from Pigeon Forge, Tennessee! I decided to treat myself to a trip to Dollywood over the holiday break. I've never been, even though my family often took trips to the Smoky Mountains when I was younger. The giant bulletin boards for Dollywood always horrified us all. But now, my camp-/excess-loving self can't imagine anything more glorious. I'm going to write the last short story in my "collection" about the trip, though fictionalized, with the narrator going with either the narrator's girlfriend or the narrator's mother. Girlfriend or mother, mother or girlfriend. Someone should write that song. It can be my anthem.
I visit Dollywood tomorrow. Today I spent driving from Indiana. mitchco made me this amazing gift, which was SIX VOLUMES of CDs, with songs she liked, songs I liked, and songs she thought I might, interspersed with her READING ALOUD SOME OF MY LIVEJOURNAL ENTRIES. (We made a joke about the LJ-reading-aloud a few weeks ago, and mitchco is all about bringing dreams to life.) I was laughing so hard I was crying. By the way, Livejournal, how did you let me post TMI about my masturbation habits without yelling at me? Just wondering...
The drive down was about six hours, and kind of ~life-changing~ (or as life-changing as six hours can be in a car that smells of beef and cheese like Arby's roast beef and cheddar). I remember taking vacations when I was little and feeling deeply uncomfortable about the unfamiliarity/the dramatic change in setting, and fantasizing about someone else being with me to keep me safe from it. When I hit adolescence, I started clinging to the idea of a significant other coming on a trip with me. As an adult, this fantasy has not panned out too well, in a couple of different situations that I will not detail because this is a public post. Taking a trip by myself, I expected to be overwhelmed again with the desire to have someone with me. But I was so happy driving along, listening to mitchco's CDs and thinking about my loved ones. I also felt weirdly/pleasantly distanced from my own inner (usually solipsistic) thoughts. I didn't feel that kind of intense loneliness at all. It was unexpected and peaceful.
I checked in to my amazing hotel (in the lobby there is a plastic, life-sized Santa Claus sitting on a chair next to the Christmas tree and fire place), got dinner and drove around Pigeon Forge a little bit. I have noticed two things about Tennessee today:
1) they explain everything to you like you are stupid (at Subway, the guy was like, "I am putting your napkin in the bag! Here is your receipt. The soda machine is just around the corner.") It is irritating and also touching? Getting food, checking in, asking for directions -- I got this overwhelming feeling of someone wanting to help me.
2) I am more aware than usual that I am white and heterosexual-looking.
Tonight I took some pictures of Pigeon Forge, even though it was dark. If you have never been to action-packed Pigeon Forge... you are missing out. It is a huge tourist trap, and the best way I can explain it is that the entire city feels like one giant putt-putt golf course.
( more pictures )
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| it's hard to say that I'd rather stay |
[18 Dec 2009|08:53pm] |
Caleb is the Jack Donaghy of Somerville. ("He is the best gift giver in the world. I tried once. I bought him a $90 bottle of olive oil. In return he got my sister out of a North Korean jail.") He got me...
a custom-made handknit Janeway doll from Etsy. Do you see her Starfleet insignia? and gray turtleneck and the four golden thingies for rank of captain (okay I just googled... COLLAR PIPS)? My favorite part is her weird yarn hair. It looks better in yarn-form than it ever did on the show. Megan wanted to put her in front of the Christmas tree but I was like NO I WANT TO PUT HER IN MY... ROOM and really what I meant was IN MY BED. No exaggeration, she rests next to my pillow. Sometimes in my sleep I move one of the pillows and accidentally suffocate her. Sorry, Janeway doll. I have faith you'll survive.
Anyway, Happy Holidays, Livejournal. I hope you feel loved and known.
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| "the kids annoyed me" |
[18 Dec 2009|01:09pm] |
mitchco promised to break into my secret journal if I die, the one I started in high school, and I gave her my password and then explained that, uh, it was from a Bible verse. really, I was a crazy person back then! (crazy in different ways than now. ha.) here I primarily post gay-related angst from my old journals and I have mostly skipped over my overly-sincere attempts to feel close to God in these kind of weird contrived ways (I am always struck by how it sounds like I am speaking in someone else's voice), but HERE IS A TASTY MORSEL:
March 20, 1999
I baby-sat Friday. The kids annoyed me but that was my fault for being in a bad mood. Afterwards it was late, 11:00 -- I was starving so I stopped at Steak n’ Shake for a chocolate milkshake. Then when I was home I took a bath. I was trying to comfort myself. Before I went to asleep I imagined myself in someone else’s arms. I think it is so sad how much I ignore God. He is the only one who could give me substantial comfort.
editor's note: yes, 16-year-old self, a disembodied and silent God can give you better comfort than the ~arms of a lady~. you work on believing that.
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