"feeling that undertow"
Oct. 13th, 2005 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omnia_mutantursometimes, i miss little bits of being less-than-sane.
which isn't to dismiss how wonderful it is to be more-sane-than-not now, or to minimize any of the agony (mine or anyone else's) of having a less than firm grip on reality. but i sometimes get tired of the constant re-evaluation of everything i say and do, tired of the things i don't let myself say to anyone ever, and even now, i silence myself mostly, trying to figure out what sort of complaints or moments of dissatisfaction i can slip through the internal censor that says "don't whine, it makes you weak and unlovable and dull" and i don't even know which of those adjectives i consider the greatest problem.
all in all, life's good. i've been trying new recipes, rather than only falling back on old ones, though there will be a repeat of the sweetpotato-blackbean burritos if that sits well with Unexpected (and i'm tempted to see if she'd be interested in going to the suicide girls burlesque tonight with me and Light if that's not too weird but i've misplaced her email, so if she sees this, she should email me, otherwise we'll talk tonight). but the curried squash was blander than i expected it to be with the amount of seasoning i put in, but not entirely unyummy (and i tried substituting apple cider for white wine, per the internet), and the gyspy soup was awesome, and Light's reaction was very gratifying. The squash soup was pretty blah, but i think that was due to the mystery squash's particular flavor rather than any failure of recipe. Light's been very patient with the squash adventures, even though he's pretty much not-a-fan of squash at all, and i've been terribly grateful to him for that. (as well as for being grateful to him on a much larger scale for, well, a significant portion of everything good ever in my life)
i keep making tentative forays into cookbooks, contemplating exactly how ludicrous i want to get with our thanksgiving. obviously, i want to make enough food that we'll be eating it for weeks, but that might not be my best interests. i can't decide it i want to go all-traditional (or as traditional as vegetarian thanksgivings can get) (and when i say traditional i mean americana-of-the-past-few-decades, not pilgrim-traditional), or simply make things that we think are yummy. I'll probably go for some combination of the two, but time will tell.
the week's been full of good people, and i'll be seeing more of them. (snow. always. melts.) he weekend trip to maine is probably going to be canceled, which on one hand makes me a little sad and on the other makes me a little relieved, (and i still love the men/de construction) because then we'll finally be able to get the airconditioners out and maybe paint some more, and maybe see Iceburg for dinner if he's still going to the botany thing at Smith. (he's named after aline from a bishop poem, not lettuce. i just wanted to make that clear, since it would be sort of bathic to be nicknamed for lettuce, i think).
now i just need to get the fuck over myself, and that's proving a little harder than it sounds (though i guess that depends on how hard it sounds). i don't have to want to crawl under tables and weep because people fear to invite me to things other specific people might be at, and i don't have to feel vaguely nauseated that people from college still get to talk to each other and i don't, and i think maybe it's still a little bit about being afraid of finding out that they were all laughing at me behind my back all those years ago. but not having to still doesn't mean not feeling, and i'm trying to just move on, but there's more tar pit than solid ground in that part of my head.
maybe it's only about always wanting the things i don't get to have, or think i don't get to have. maybe it's about hating the tally of closed doors. or maybe it's just about learning to shift focus. "dig, dig and if i come to ledges, blast." (and i don't remember the correct punctuation and that makes me a little bit sad).
i think the rain makes me mopey and i think, outside of my own romantic relationship, i don't have a good understanding of what people actually want to be to each other, in the general or the specific. but i'm afraid i want too much even if i can't pinpoint the specifics, and i'm afraid that other people want something i don't know how to be.
and in the end, i've severely edited this entry, removed more text than i've left, and that annoys me about myself. i'll say anything here that i'd say anywhere else, in fact, i tend to say more here than i do anywhere else. it's mostly that i don't let myself say a lot of things anywhere, ever. i don't know exactly what i'm afraid of, but i think it's made up of fear of offending someone and fear of looking even weaker than i already think i look. i wonder if i got this 'good soldier' thing from my parents, or if it just comes up from the dirt here, little sparkly pointy pieces of granite in my blood. i think i'll stop wallowing soon enough, become the very illustration of an aesop's fable. but i still want a cigarette something awful and it's almost been two years to the day, and i'm listening to mood-reinforcing music and that Must Stop.
next post will be about books i've really liked. promise.
--
which isn't to dismiss how wonderful it is to be more-sane-than-not now, or to minimize any of the agony (mine or anyone else's) of having a less than firm grip on reality. but i sometimes get tired of the constant re-evaluation of everything i say and do, tired of the things i don't let myself say to anyone ever, and even now, i silence myself mostly, trying to figure out what sort of complaints or moments of dissatisfaction i can slip through the internal censor that says "don't whine, it makes you weak and unlovable and dull" and i don't even know which of those adjectives i consider the greatest problem.
all in all, life's good. i've been trying new recipes, rather than only falling back on old ones, though there will be a repeat of the sweetpotato-blackbean burritos if that sits well with Unexpected (and i'm tempted to see if she'd be interested in going to the suicide girls burlesque tonight with me and Light if that's not too weird but i've misplaced her email, so if she sees this, she should email me, otherwise we'll talk tonight). but the curried squash was blander than i expected it to be with the amount of seasoning i put in, but not entirely unyummy (and i tried substituting apple cider for white wine, per the internet), and the gyspy soup was awesome, and Light's reaction was very gratifying. The squash soup was pretty blah, but i think that was due to the mystery squash's particular flavor rather than any failure of recipe. Light's been very patient with the squash adventures, even though he's pretty much not-a-fan of squash at all, and i've been terribly grateful to him for that. (as well as for being grateful to him on a much larger scale for, well, a significant portion of everything good ever in my life)
i keep making tentative forays into cookbooks, contemplating exactly how ludicrous i want to get with our thanksgiving. obviously, i want to make enough food that we'll be eating it for weeks, but that might not be my best interests. i can't decide it i want to go all-traditional (or as traditional as vegetarian thanksgivings can get) (and when i say traditional i mean americana-of-the-past-few-decades, not pilgrim-traditional), or simply make things that we think are yummy. I'll probably go for some combination of the two, but time will tell.
the week's been full of good people, and i'll be seeing more of them. (snow. always. melts.) he weekend trip to maine is probably going to be canceled, which on one hand makes me a little sad and on the other makes me a little relieved, (and i still love the men/de construction) because then we'll finally be able to get the airconditioners out and maybe paint some more, and maybe see Iceburg for dinner if he's still going to the botany thing at Smith. (he's named after aline from a bishop poem, not lettuce. i just wanted to make that clear, since it would be sort of bathic to be nicknamed for lettuce, i think).
now i just need to get the fuck over myself, and that's proving a little harder than it sounds (though i guess that depends on how hard it sounds). i don't have to want to crawl under tables and weep because people fear to invite me to things other specific people might be at, and i don't have to feel vaguely nauseated that people from college still get to talk to each other and i don't, and i think maybe it's still a little bit about being afraid of finding out that they were all laughing at me behind my back all those years ago. but not having to still doesn't mean not feeling, and i'm trying to just move on, but there's more tar pit than solid ground in that part of my head.
maybe it's only about always wanting the things i don't get to have, or think i don't get to have. maybe it's about hating the tally of closed doors. or maybe it's just about learning to shift focus. "dig, dig and if i come to ledges, blast." (and i don't remember the correct punctuation and that makes me a little bit sad).
i think the rain makes me mopey and i think, outside of my own romantic relationship, i don't have a good understanding of what people actually want to be to each other, in the general or the specific. but i'm afraid i want too much even if i can't pinpoint the specifics, and i'm afraid that other people want something i don't know how to be.
and in the end, i've severely edited this entry, removed more text than i've left, and that annoys me about myself. i'll say anything here that i'd say anywhere else, in fact, i tend to say more here than i do anywhere else. it's mostly that i don't let myself say a lot of things anywhere, ever. i don't know exactly what i'm afraid of, but i think it's made up of fear of offending someone and fear of looking even weaker than i already think i look. i wonder if i got this 'good soldier' thing from my parents, or if it just comes up from the dirt here, little sparkly pointy pieces of granite in my blood. i think i'll stop wallowing soon enough, become the very illustration of an aesop's fable. but i still want a cigarette something awful and it's almost been two years to the day, and i'm listening to mood-reinforcing music and that Must Stop.
next post will be about books i've really liked. promise.
--
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no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 03:25 pm (UTC)yes.
suicide girls
nooooo, not the suicide girls! they are like the Walmart of "alternative" sex industry. Evil, pure evil!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 06:16 pm (UTC)They drive all those established alternative mom and pop alternative sex stores out of business by importing cheap chinese sex and selling it at a loss, writing that loss off against profitable sex stores in other states, while at the same time screwing employees out of overtime wages, benefits, and discriminating against women when it comes to promotions?
I'm not sure your analogy is apropos. Popular does not necessarily equal evil.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 06:40 pm (UTC)You may find this New York Press article informative:
http://www.nypress.com/18/40/news&columns/ros%C3%A9ralatmaldonado%20.cfm
SuicideGirls’ carefully cultivated claim of being female-run has been attacked as a marketing ploy, and one of its male owners attacked as a woman-hater. About 30 of the site’s best-known and most-popular models have left or been booted from the site in the last month, and their online journals purged. The idea that the site was as much about the girls’ minds as about their bodies—always transparently false, but for some reason accepted at face value by the girls, by a press all too eager to promote purportedly female-empowering porn and by a large female viewership willing to play along—has been exposed as a fraud.
Those women who have moved on to other sites have been threatened with lawsuits (as have sites running their photos) that appear to claim that for the generally $300 a shoot they were paid that all images of them—not just those taken for SG—are property of the site forever and throughout the universe.
Those former SGs that have nonetheless continued to publicly attack the site say they have been threatened with spurious but costly and time-consuming lawsuits, and with having the pictures they took for the site sold to hardcore sex sites.
here is a succinct blog post that summarizes some of the issues
http://un-pink.blogspot.com/
here is the website with some interesting bits about the man behind SG
http://66.102.7.104/search?q=cache:ZWWfqfenK8EJ:amsam.org/2005/09/suicide-girls-is-owned-by-right-winger.html+suicide+girls+right+wing&hl=en&client=firefox-a
you may also find some interesting links and discussion here, in the former-suicide-girls community.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 06:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 07:40 pm (UTC)And I meant to link the former SG community, but I guess I forgot to paste in the link:
http://www.livejournal.com/community/sgirls/
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 07:49 pm (UTC)and thanks for the warning. our plans have been appropriately changed.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 07:51 pm (UTC)what are you guys going to do instead?
sorry to ruin your plans! But it sucks that people patronize SG under false pretenses, thinking they are supporting a women-empowered alternative to mainstream sex industry, when in fact it's a big sham and they mistreat their workers in ways that range from ethically problematic to downright illegal.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 08:07 pm (UTC)and i appreciate the plan-ruining. i'd much prefer to find out before than after-the-fact. sadly, nothing exciting will take the place of the show, probably just dinner-cooking and tivo'd show watching and conversation.
regale me with tales of your fabulous evening?
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 08:31 pm (UTC)My average evening is, like, do some work on the dissertation, procrastinate on livejournal, exchange gossipy text messages with Best Friend in NYC, exchange insant/dadaist text messages with friend in San Francisco, IM or cam with friend in Japan, make some food (no places really to get food from the outside world here that don't include "roast beef" somewhere in the name of the establishment), distract boyfriend from his videogames with my apocalyptic apophenia that sets in right after spending some quality time on democraticunderground.com, watch a movie or TV show with boyfriend, consume an obscene amount of grapes, go to bed. Lather, rinse and repeat.
And then once every couple of weeks I mosy on over to NYC, and have a (comparative) social life overload. Except not really, I just end up seeing a bunh of friends at once instead of one-on-one, so it has that moveable feast feeling to it.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-14 10:47 am (UTC)i'm never quite sure if i should let my errors slide, or call attention to them by correcting them.
your evening sounds fantastic. if you find yourself wanting a fourth plus conversation some night, drop me a line. (survivaljunkie). or if you find yourself in western mass in moments of transit, let me know and i'll take you out to the bright red (on the inside) mexican/indian "new world fusion" restaurant.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-14 02:16 pm (UTC)Let me know if you are in Boston, too, for coffee purposes and such.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-13 04:30 pm (UTC)Well, you are welcome here anytime, if it helps! No closed door here, Lady. ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-14 10:47 am (UTC)that was great to hear.