29 February 2008

Caveats & Conclusions for February

will add entries to this list as the rest of the month goes by.

  • My ears are wax factories; i could make my own candles.
  • Those itty bitty Band Aids in the box are useless, unless your ink pen has a boo boo, then they'll patch that right up.
  • i always get up several times after going to bed because i think of things i forgot to do. After i reach the destination of my pre-slumber task, i forget what i remembered i forgot.
  • I would love to see a live dinosaur. unless it's a Velociraptor.
  • A surprising number of people break up on Valentine's Day.Is there not enough chocolate to go around?
  • MY hands look older than they did last year.
  • When you drop an open face peanut butter sandwich on the floor, you can't wipe it off, well enough to eat it. The three second rule just does not apply here.
  • I wish i didn't need to sleep. I'd get so much more done.
  • I am naturally nocturnal; My circadian rhythm can't dance.
  • I hate to be made the finger on someone else's trigger.
  • I hate stairs. (see blog, "Slippity Doo Dah").
  • I prefer the company of sober people.
  • One out if a million people is sane and stable. Everyone else is fucked up.

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25 February 2008

Mercy Kissing



Recently i was presented with an ethical dilemma which i initially found troublesome due to its lack of a clear path of reaction for me as an ethical person.

The situation, in a nutshell, was this:

During a visit at my home from a female friend, she came out to me as a lesbian, and confessed her attraction to me, and i was at once surprised and confused. I hadn't ever thought she saw me in a romantic way. That was not the dilemma. I felt like she put me on the spot, and i had little time to consider it. That wasn't really the dilemma either. The dilemma was that she was in a loveless marriage that had become, over the years, merely a convenient friendship due to the fact that she shared a child with this man. Since i overheard part of their conversation when he called during this visit, i was relatively certain that her framing of it was accurate. She stated that she was not after my heart, not seeking a committed relationship with me, and would be happy for me, should i find the right woman at some point. And though she had intimated earlier that she hoped we could have some sexual arrangement, all she wanted from me was "just this little moment." She said, "i want you to just take me in your arms and kiss me." That was uncomfortable enough, but when i hesitated, she started to cry. Everything in her life, she said, was about someone else. She gave-gave-gave, and never got anything for herself. She had felt this way about me since the first night we had coffee together. She just wanted to know what it was like, just for those few stolen moments.

Now, although she is an attractive woman, I was clear that I had nothing but platonic feelings for her, and that would have been simple enough to respond to in the proper fashion. But then when she cried, i began to wonder if i was making my hardline ethical choices more important than compassion. Which was more important for me to consider, if i wanted to be the best person i could be? I'm afraid I erred on the side of compassion.

Afterward, i reconsidered, and realized i was regretful. Perhaps i had made the wrong choice. The gray areas always get me in trouble.

Then i found a two-part solution in the counsel of my best friend, and in the words of John Varley, via his novel, Steel Beach. The first insight my friend offered was something like this:

"Can't you remember a time when you were crying and upset about something like that? Did you really need sex or a kiss?" So the question then became, Can i be compassionate without compromising my ethics? My friend suggested my response should have been, "I like you, you are an attractive woman, and i enjoy your company, but i consider us platonic. I think that what you really need is someone to offer compassion." Then i should have pulled her into my arms and let her cry, and just be supportive that way. When my friend suggested this, my first reaction was, "Why the hell didn't i think of that?"

I percolated on that whole concept for a few days. I knew that i would certainly handle it in that manner if the situation came up again. But my understanding was solidified only a few nights later, while I was reading the Varley Novel. The passage was:

"I have a short list of things I never do, and right near the top is surrendering to emotional blackmail. If there's a worse kind of sex than the charity fuck, I haven't heard about it. And her words could be read as the worst kind of whipped-puppy appeal and dammit, okay, she did have a right to act like a whipped puppy, but i hate whipped-puppies, I want to kick them for letting themselves be whipped...only the words didn't come out like that...."

And there was the answer to my ethical dilemma. It's not like i haven't been in this situation before, either. I have often let my soft heart make my decisions, rather than my good sense. I should not be blinded by the suggestion that there is only one way to show compassion. And if anyone puts me in that position, i am not obligated to comply in the way they had in mind, and they ought to be ashamed for enlisting the ruse of emotional blackmail.

Maybe there is always a solution, even when the situation seems to tie me in a knot. The knot doesn't have to be Gordian. I can just do what Alexander the Great did, and CUT it.


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20 February 2008

Immortality or Something Like It

The concept of Eternal life (aside from the usual religious variety, and that of the usual vampire tale) is one fraught with profound implications. In the novel, Steel Beach, by one of my favorite authors, John Varley, these implications are explored in a unique way. After an Earth invasion, and the escape of survivors to the Moon, humankind again thrives, though they are now living on Luna, and their environment is provided inside high tech bubbles that maintain breathable air, and when they venture to the surface outside, they have to wear special space suits.

What if modern technology could provide us with instant medical cures and corporeal repairs? What if people could live 200 or 300 years, and almost everything could be fixed? What if you could have your gender changed as easily as you can go get a spa treatment? In Steel Beach, this gender switching, elongated lifespan, an Artificial Intelligence of a "Central Computer" that monitors everything and takes care of it, even on an individual basis, along with a government that provides for the needs of all its citizens, has resulted in a wave of depression and suicidal tendencies. These people find that there is no challenge, no sense of life as something tenuous and precious. The least creative of the bunch seem to suffer most, because they run out of things to be interested in, saddled with such a long lifespan.

Still, were those glitches somehow removed, i can say i would love the idea of living, without the aging process, a life of hundreds of years. I've always felt there is never enough time to do and be and investigate all that life is. I can always find something to be interested in and am sometimes depressed by the idea that i won't have enough time in one life to explore it all. It sort of pisses me off.

In the real world I live in, people who are okay with their lives, at peace with these things that don't exist for them except in some future incarnation, also seem to be those who have vivid memories of childhood. It's as if they are more aware of all the years they've lived. But since i can recall only scant snapshots of my younger years, I wonder if there's some correlation between those who can remember their current past and those who can't. Those folks can really feel their accomplishments in a visceral way--watching children grow, seeing the results of their parenting, getting the gold watch, seeing their stocks
pay off, getting a raise, having the house, the new car, the financial security, the deepening partnership with a mate...my only sense of accomplishment seems to rely on the next book I have in print, the song i write and record, the next picture i paint, sculpture i create...and without those trappings of "success" to go along with them, it's an exceedingly personal accomplishment, without a great deal of validation given by others--it would take major validation like having a mainstream publisher and contract, or having my art placed in a gallery (I've only done that once), or someone famous recording one of my songs, since i am not chasing that musical fame train anymore. Why is validation important? I suspect it is because it helps engender a sense of PURPOSE.

Common among the usual variety of people in Varley's future world, is the statement: "I can't wait for a day when i can have a vacation, sleep in, stay up late, watch movies, socialize, rest, do what i want." That's MY LIFE EVERYDAY. So i am missing that purpose they get in day to day activities... they are missing that free time to do what they want, but i am missing the purpose. The grass is always greener syndrome. Why can't just doing it for the sake of it be enough for me right now? Is it because life is so limited? Is it because i can't remember a lot of it? Or because I feel I've lost those years and will never have them back, because my body will change, and i will get older and feel the effects of aging, and not enjoy things as i used to? (I'm actually in better shape physically than i have been in the past). Where does this mortality fear come from? Why is it so hard for me to be peaceful in about the limited time I'm given?

In one of the original Twilight Zone stories, "Time Enough At Last" the author (who is, incidentally one of my relatives) writes about how the world as it was known, has pretty much ended, and there's one man left on Earth, with nothing to do but read. Finally, he can just camp out at the huge libraries and read all those books he would have never had time to read before....

Then his glasses get broken.

He can barely see without them.

So, our bodies betray us, and the Universe or God often seems to betray us, when all we want is to do what brings us joy; to just wallow in the Pursuit of Happiness. Is that too much to ask? Why do we have to trade something we don't want to trade to have it?

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18 February 2008

FUBAR


In my past i was always fucked up.
And I always had a girlfriend.

Now that I've done the big work to become the kind of person I think every human should ultimately aspire to (based on my tireless studies of reputable sources, including the great philosophers), along with relentless self-examination and continual attention to the details of
character and ethics and how they do and should operate in me, now that I've done all that....I can't get a girlfriend to save my life.

It suggests that if i was fucked up again, I'd have better luck. I always had a relationship the whole time i was struggling. Apparently, people don't want someone who's got it together. They want someone who's damaged. Maybe because they are damaged and they know how to handle that. That's an occasion they can rise to.

So either I'm going to be the best I can be, and be alone, or I'm going to allow myself to slip into that wildly popular persona of low integrity and ethics, so that i can finally have someone who loves me and wants to make a life with me. That alone, is FUBAR. Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

The truth is still the truth, even if it makes no sense to me.


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17 February 2008

People Are Just M&M's.

Once again, the exception proves the rule. People are just M&M's.

They live in their delusion that they are different, but they are all the same except different colors of the same thing. Their taste remains constant, in spite of what the outside color may suggest. They might have a candy coating, but that's just the lies they tell themselves and others; sometimes they are simply a NUT inside.

They might think they're different, but they're not; they're in the bag with all the other M&M's, and so they lull themselves into a false sense of security because they are surrounded by others like them.

And when you try to hold them, they melt in your hand. And you get blamed for the mess, because you had an authentic, warm hand.


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Paraplegic Dumped From Wheelchair

To say that this is reprehensible would be understating. I hope that officer and every other person in the room gets fired, and brought up on charges, and goes to jail where someone can shank them in the spine so that they will be paralyzed and then I hope someone dumps them from THEIR chair.



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16 February 2008

Hope Does Not Float

Sometimes i catch myself crying. I'll be listening to music, or playing Mahjongg, or watching television, and a tear will make a cold streak down one cheek, and then i have to ask myself what caused it. A cheesy commercial? A dramatic scene in a movie? Allergies? Some irritation in my eye? Maybe the irritation is simply the act of seeing through my own eyes. What triggers these moments of melancholy? what veiled emotion slips out while i am paying attention to something else?

My first thoughts always go to the inordinate amount of time i spend alone. Am i just lonely, then? Yes. Profoundly, sometimes. The nature of my life is one of frequent isolation, and most of the time, I'm okay with that. But this tearful reaction resonates with deeper meaning. My thoughts go to all of those in my life, and those now out of my life that i hear about second hand. I hear about them finding love, living in domestic bliss with a partner and a child, and a family, and i know now that my life is half over, and I can only hope to have one of those things. And that's looking bleaker by the moment. I know that a life of purpose and meaning is something that happens to other people. I create works of art, I write and sing and record songs, I author books and blogs, and I share it all with everyone. I study and i question and I examine, and I try faithfully to understand everything about living in this time-space continuum. I lay bare for all the world to see, the secrets of my soul, the joy and inspiration, along with the wounds of my heart, hoping that it will matter somehow. That someone might notice that i get it--that I really understand. That I am honoring the gifts. That someone might come along and see me. Really see me. But each momentary frisson of hope is only mocking me. And the knowledge is red hot against my heart, that I worked so passionately to conquer those crutches I leaned on so hard in the past, to refuse to be victimized, to be an individual others enjoy spending time with; I taught myself to laugh again, and to see something good in everything i encountered. I learned about human nature, philosophy, sexology, science, spirituality...I made myself available to others for counsel and support. And they sought my counsel. They thanked me. They praised me. And for brief moments it made sense, and it made me proud to be who I am. Proud of the progress I had made. I wanted to be someone also who had something tangible and of value to offer that special someone, but all I become is the one who repairs their injuries, lightswitching their darkness. . . and I am left watching them carry on, revived, while I spend so many nights clenching my fists and fighting against the maudlin memories, the sharp blade of truth against my jugular. I look out the window and whisper, When is it my turn? After years of fervent toiling to fashion myself into a person of character and integrity, I find that these are not qualities in high demand. Perhaps my greatest work of fiction, is that I'm okay with how it's turned out. That I would apparently have better luck if I had remained damaged.

Hope does not float. It sits on the bottom, weighted by its own lie.


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How Cats Wake you up

All cat owners will appreciate this.


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I Love My Shoes

Yesterday, I wrote a blog about Biscuit, my cat who has S.A.D, O.C.D, and B.P.D. and EIEIO...

My other cat, Shoes, found out, and was really pissed. I promised her I'd write a blog about her too, so here it goes.

Shoes named herself. I saw her little white markings on her feet and thought of “Socks” and Boots” but those were too trite. Then she climbed halfway in one of my shoes and mewed at me and I went. “Oh…Shoes, is it?” So she named herself, and had a way of acting like I was pretty stupid not to think of it before she had to show me.

She quickly developed a tendency to fall down on the floor and turn over to show me her belly. In this photo, she is saying, "Mommy! Look at my panniculus!" *

When I first brought her home, she wasn’t quite old enough to be declawed yet, and that’s usually not a big deal. But Shoes was another story. My best friend stayed over one night and whenever we’d close our eyes to go to sleep, she
would see our eyes moving under our eyelids, and she’d rear up and then pounce on our eyes with both feet. It was so charming and comical, but not worth losing any eyeballs over. We had to buy swim goggles to sleep in, for our own safety. She pounced on them just to teach us a lesson. We didn’t get much sleep. But I can’t help but laugh. Cats are just so much fun. I like that they’re so independent. You can’t boss a cat around.Thus, I respect them.

Other personality traits in Shoes include an unhealthy appetite for tape and other things that have glue on them. I bet she’d eat some paste if I bought her some. Glue-eating isn't all that unusual. Kindergarten kids do it all the time. (though i never developed a taste for it, myself). Shoes also says "mama" to me…I actually made an effort to teach her to do this, so the first time she "said" it, I was a proud parent. Although it sounds more like "Meh-Meh” than "mama", but I'm sure it's some evolutionary constraint that she can't help.

She will aggravate me when she needs something and is relentless until I give in and follow her to wherever the issue is. It’s usually either the litterbox, the food bowl or the water. (ah, the simple life.) If it’s not one of those, it's that she wants me to pay attention ("Look what I can do!") Sometimes it's that she wants me to sing to her. I did a lot of music when she was a kitten, and she is definitely a music lover. I’d catch her perched next to my studio mic, chirping into it, “MehMeh!” Pretty smart. One time she actually came and told me when Biscuit got her neck caught in the handle of a plastic sack (no doubt, due to her sack-licking obsession...a testimony to the dangers of addiction). Shoes came and screamed at me and led me upstairs, sitting down and waiting, until i understood, when Biscuit came flying through the living room, with a sack billowing out behind her like a parachute. (Now i cut the handles to all sacks).

But if on occasion, calling to me doesn’t work, Shoes will start knocking things in the floor. Usually it’s not breakables. She seems fond of paper. She’ll paddle at a piece of paper until she swipes it to the floor. And then when i reprimand her, she does what no other cat I've ever had does: she runs TOWARD me. Now, most cats, when you yell at them, run AWAY. Not Shoes. She trots over to me and asks me why I'm mad. She's also not afraid of other people, nor thunderstorms. Sniff sniff. Mommy's so proud.

I just told her i wrote a blog about her too, and she said, "It's about time." and knocked my stapler in the floor.

----------------------------
*Panniculus-- a layer of tissue, esp. a subcutaneous layer of fat.


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15 February 2008

Mental Biscuit

After spending a good 16 hours in my basement office, my feet were stinging cold. When I climbed into bed to continue reading my John Varley novel, I kept being distracted by two things—my feet, of course, and my cat, Biscuit.

I solved the feet problem by nuking one of those gel packs. My feet were then warming up under the covers, but Biscuit was still doing her best to let me know she knew it was bedtime, and that’s when she begins her rituals.

First, it’s blocking my path and mewing, and slithering in and out of my ankles. Then it’s jumping on the bed to await me, still talking in her little kitty voice. She never ceases to be excited when I announce it’s bedtime. Maybe she has a short term memory and forgot that she did the same thing last night and the night before, and on into every previous night since her adoption. I wish i could remain that enthused by something i do every single day of my life.

Regardless, this feline has a screw loose, but that’s usually why I find her so charming. I named her for the incessant biscuit-making she does on any available soft surface. If that’s my chest or my stomach, she’s fine with that. Problem is, she does it for a long long time, and even a tactile person like myself can get a little annoyed by her fervor. I know she can’t help it—I didn’t know that at the time of her adoption, she wasn't yet weaned, but it explains a lot now. Her biscuit-making is an instinctual response—she’s essentially nursing while doing that. I’m afraid this led to her being OCD, though. She has other behaviors that echo this unfulfilled need, though I’ve yet to figure out exactly what they do for her. For instance, she likes to lick plastic sacks. I thought at first it was because there was something delicious spilled on them, but when she did it to all sacks, spilled food or not, I realized she had a plastic sack addiction. I don’t think there are any support groups for that. At least not for cats. I wouldn't be surprised if there were some for people who like to lick sacks. Stranger groups have formed.

Biscuit also likes to lay on the top of the recliner, her legs dangling on either side (see photographic illustration). I think she might also have Borderline Personality Disorder…(I’ve always thought that label was misleading…it’s like “I almost have a personalty, but not quite…I’m right on the border…”) anyway, I think she might be BPD, because she gets all up in my fruit loops all the time, but when I try to pet her, she pulls away. She’s better about that than she used to be, but really—when I’m trying to type, she does a little waltz across the desk in front of me, careful to use her tail as a feather duster, under my nose, and also as a thing-knocker-over, and once when I had a candle on the desk--to my momentary horror, she almost allowed her tail to be Keeper of the Flame.

This frequent attention seeking always ends in her escaping too much affection. She wants it but doesn’t want it, at the same time. She also disappears when I have company and doesn’t trust anyone--except me, but only a little. That’s Social Anxiety Disorder. So she has SAD, BPD and OCD. She reminds me of most of my ex-girlfriends.


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14 February 2008

Open Relationships Vs. Monogamy (4)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Okay. I guess I'm being too hard core.

Someone told me I'm being judgmental and imposing my opinions. I just know what i know and believe what i believe and feel passionately about it...it is not my intention to make anyone feel they can't speak their mind or have a differing opinion and i hope that's clear--if it's not, know it NOW. I am interested in engaging in thoughtful discourse, growing, learning, supporting and learning to communicate with each other.

And regarding this monogamy subject, i am still deciding where the lines are...like, is it okay to hug and touch and maybe do a little bump and grind to someone in a bar? is that over a line? I'm not sure. Maybe.(And why can we do that if there's music playing, but it's inappropriate if it's not?) Anyway, I don't do that very often. So i haven't thought about it a lot. But as far as monogamy and our romantic/sexual/intimate behavior inside that is concerned, I do believe that Commitment Implies Exclusivity. That's the main point. And i think that discussing it is healthy for all of us. I hope everyone still knows that you are all entitled to your own opinions, even if they differ from mine. I'm just passionate.

I had a real event take place about 8 years ago, and someone asked me about that...so i'll share it...

I was at a party given by my friend and her girlfriend at their house. My friend took me to a back room where she had her artwork, so i could see some recent paintings...the conversation somehow ended up with us doing some playful wrestling, ending up on the bed, and she landed on top of me and kissed me. It lasted maybe 4-5 seconds. I wasn't expecting it at all.

Afterward i said "What the hell are you doing?" That's when she said she had always wanted to kiss me.

I said, "You have a girlfriend!" (and the girlfriend was in the house along with a bunch of other women).

She told me that her gf had given her permission to kiss whomever she wanted as long as that's all it was, because this friend really had some kind of thing about being able to kiss women if she was attracted to them...she had only had one 3month relationship with one woman before this current girlfriend, and at the time they had been together about 5 years i think. maybe longer. So i had this moment when i thought "I guess it's ok..." but then it still bothered me. It never happened again, and this woman and i are still friends---for a total of maybe 12 years.

So i didn't exactly give permission for this kiss, and i was shocked by it. But even then, i felt bad. But i did deal with that confusion of "what if it's okay with the girlfriend?"

So this friend i was talking to today also asked this: what if i was in a bar, dancing and drinking and met this girl whom i was attracted to and this girl kissed me, and then we wound up going home and sleeping together...and then i found out afterward she had a girlfriend. What would i do?

Well first, i would not have done anything UNSAFE. I have to make that clear at the outset.

But then i would admonish myself for not getting to know her better before making a decision to be sexual, and then I would admonish her for not telling me. And i probably wouldn't be able to be friends with her, because there's an honesty/trust issue there and i can't always wonder if my friends or dates or gf's are lying to me. And frankly, i don't like having people in my life who think it's okay to be dishonest. I got rid of the toxic people in my life a long time ago and i intend to keep it that way, IT just causes chaos and drama and stress. It was one of the healthiest decisions i've made for myself.

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Open Relationships Vs. Monogamy (3)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Someone said, about this monogamy debate,

"let me grow at my own rate, let me make my own mistakes, stop interferring with my journey!"

Well, I wouldn't pull them apart and scream "I forbid you to do this!" I am merely voicing my opinion--but not interfering with their right to use free will and make their own choices.

I am not trying to be the Morality Police here, but that doesn't mean i don't feel there needs to be some policing--by someone....by all of us, really. I have always believed that what two consenting adults do is about Primum non nocere: "First, do no harm." ...that includes safe sex or full disclosure of STD status. I guess this edict would include that third person who might be "Okay with it" when her girlfriend sleeps with someone else...I could never be okay with that. I endeavor to be not only "Enough" for my partner, but PLENTY. So if she feels she needs something sexual/intimate from someone else, we are not suitable partners, and she can tuck and roll. And never roll back in my direction. I don't "share" precisely because i have respect for myself, as *I* define self-respect. Part of that is how something makes me feel. When i have a strong negative reaction to something--there's a damn good reason behind it. I believe that if someone needs more than one person at a time, they either have a sex addiction, profound and abnormal need for approval or love, or they are just universally and perhaps blindly selfish. (These are my feelings/opinions/beliefs and everyone else is entitled to their own, whether they agree with me or not. Hurray! there's another one of those "Freedoms.")

But again, i am stressing here, that the deeper issue is much more complicated...the deeper issue is about our evolution as beings of integrity and collective consciousness...are we all going to be such free agents that we stop caring about what our actions might CAUSE?

Others have made good points, and some points i don't think are accurate, like the argument that there is no real decline in morals these days, as compared with the past. However, the very nature of our society is one predicated on a moral decay that grows stronger every day. Are you watching and reading the same information I am? Why is this even in question? I KNOW, personally that things have changed because i have been a kid and have grown up and am aware of what's happening with the generations now and since then. I see it clearly. Things are VERY different where morality and ethics are concerned. So I'm always a bit chagrined by the stance that all is well, and ethics is alive and well. But that's just me--I'm chagrined, and no one has to care that i am chagrined.

And as for the "carnal thoughts" someone might have about your wife, I don't see that doing any harm, and if it served as an aphrodisiac for both of you, then smack my ass and call me a participant. I had my own experience with that one when i was in a band with a girlfriend, and after the shows we performed to cloying, flirty, appreciative fans, we would arrive home with an overwhelming case of the hornies.

I suspect that the use of the mantras, "it's none of my business"...or "I can't judge others" is precisely the sort of apathy that generates more problems. Are we not supposed to use our judgment? What's it there for, if we don't? are we not supposed to draw rational conclusions from facts? Are we so worried about being politically correct that no one can call anyone else into responsibility? Are we so terrified of losing one iota of our freedom, that we balk at the slightest challenge to it? Are we all becoming cowards? Am i crazy, unreasonable, and offensive for drawing these conclusions???? Should i just give up and join the crowd because it's easier? because instant gratification feels so good? I've been guilty of it-- I'm not always a paragon of virtue. But i do try to learn from my actions. And i just have this pervasive sense that we are all moving dangerously far from the ideals that might save us from this decline that is as clear as cellophane to me....i think i'll change my name to Helena Handbasket.

And even if the number of sexually active/promiscuous teens and kids remained exactly the same (and i haven't seen any evidence of this, but have seen evidence to the contrary)--but assuming that's true--then, there are so many other things that have changed in recent generations that make having a moral compass and an ethical footing more important than ever. Here's some stats to shed light on it:

According to Project Reality, 10,000 teens acquire a sexually transmitted disease every day. Although current sex education has increased condom use among teens, the number of adolescents afflicted with an STD has risen with it, so that a teenager is stricken every 8 seconds.

One out of every three children is having sex at the age of 10, and 17 out of 100 will deliberately spread the virus if they know they are HIV-positive.

These are the findings of a comprehensive survey by the Community Information, Empowerment and Transparency (CIET) in November and December 2002 (five years ago--trending would suggest it's even worse now).

Some of the other disturbing findings included that, at 18, two out of every three children had had sex.

Two out of 10 pupils did not believe condoms prevented pregnancy or other sexually transmitted diseases.

One in 10 said they believed sex with a virgin could cure HIV/Aids, and one in 10 had been raped in the past year.

Three out of every 100 pupils thought that girls liked sexually violent boys and one out of every 10 thought that girls who got raped, asked for it, according to the study.

The study further stated people were becoming sexually active earlier and belief systems about sex supported sexually violent and sexually irresponsible behavior.

"It is not surprising that 43 percent of all sexual crimes committed on children reported to Childline, were committed by children under 18," the study reported.

Consider these statistics:

* Almost half of all students in grades nine through twelve have had sex.
* Half of all girls are likely to be infected with an STD during their first sexual experience.
* Nearly one in four sexually active teens have an STD.
* Teens will contract nearly one in four of the 15 million new cases of STDs this year.
* Teens make up 10% of the population, but they contract up to 25% of all STDs.
* Herpes (specifically herpes simplex type 2 or "genital herpes") has skyrocketed 500% among white teenagers in the last 20 years.

{remember, "back in the old days" there were only two STD's "available (LOL-sorry) and these were both treatable with penicillin}.

* One in five children above age twelve tests positive for herpes type 2.
* One in ten teenage girls has Chlamydia; half of all new Chlamydia cases each year are diagnosed in girls 15 to 19 years old.

It gets worse. The Journal of the American Medical Association reported in a February 2002 editorial that the number of people with asymptomatic STDs (diseases with no outward symptoms like lesions or warts) probably exceeds those whose diseases are diagnosed. This means that the epidemic may be twice as large as we think.

The STD epidemic is a catastrophe. Millions of teens have been hurt. Millions more are threatened. Diseases are tearing into the bodies of our children in ways that will cause irreparable harm or possibly death.

Oh yes, i can see how the lack of steadfast ethics and morals have had no affect on any of us.


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Open Relationships Vs. Monogamy (2)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

JH said, "I agree with [that] each couple [should be] free to define their respective relationship and its constraints. I have been in numerous types of relationships (all with women) in my 36 yrs on the planet. Some were with ladies that insisted that I not go out drinking without them, not slow dance with others, not grind on people even playfully and never kiss or romantically/flirtly speak on the phone. Now...at the time I agree to these terms because I was young and believed I was in love and was getting what I needed out of the relationship. What was stressful is that I felt that in the couplehood described above, I was always being critiqued and watched for any blemish in behavior. I constantly felt like if I had one miss step that my relationship was over. Ultimately, I realized that if my partner only conditionally loved me and was so quick to cut me loose if I ever expressed my affection at all with another...I was in the wrong relationship for me. I have been in very open situations as well that did keep me guessing due to the non-defining of acceptable behavior. For me it is about balance and being with a partner that I share the same views with. I believe we all just have to be okay with whatever the rules or acceptable behavior in our relationship is. I do not want to judge people be they strangers or friends for what works for them. If it doesn't work for them, I figure they will change their dynamic. It is not for me to tell them how they should or should not behave. Many states still have sodomy laws on the books and I've known of gay men that were harassed years ago and not allowed to rent one bedroom apartments together due to the fact that society believed they were anal invaders (a quote from my male friend.)

All I am saying is I'm not the morality police, because if I was I would have to arrest all actors and actresses who are in romantic comedys, etc. After all they feel and grind and kiss and they are often married to others. I suppose they are all like hookers because they get paid to make out with numerous partners each film or shooting season. Oh think of all the soap stars who have romantically screen kissed dozens of near strangers in their career and get day time Emmys for it...or the stage actors. Now I'm not even getting in to porn films...just normal films and TV. Oh, the L-word and Queer as Folk...I suppose their off screen partners must be crazy and immoral to pimp out their partners for the big bucks. No. I suppose my point is simply that folks should do what works for them and makes them feel good. For if we all adhered to what society thought was right none of us on this forum would be here and living as lesbians. We are rebels who write our own rules by definition as gay folk. I say follow your bliss! and seek out a partner who shares your like minded views on life...or grow and evolve together! If you do not agree with all the dynamics of friends partnerships then the great part is you do not have to apply those elements and rules to your own relationship...you get to write your own script too...that's what makes freedom free!

I guess I just have endless opinions on this topic: Here's something to ponder: I love to get massages and often buy them for folks I date or couple up with. I know most see massages as professional services (I do too) but I am aware that often times people get turned on during any touch session that feels good. I have almost come to orgasm during certain, non sexual massages. Would this mean I'm cheating? Would this imply that the therapist was also getting their jollies? I really feel that if either are true: BONUS! and a big tip!

If I read erotica and masturbate about a character or celebrity or someone I saw in a bar...am I cheating because I'm getting off at the thought of another? My point is the lines may all get blurred with what the consensus of society seems to be whether its regarding a lap dance in a strip bar or a grind dance with a friend on the lesbo bars dance floor. I think that people be they gay or bi or straight can have committed relationships with a primary partner. The commitment part is adjustable... it is about what THEY are committing to. They may be agreeing to never have full sex with another, or never explore and keep their partner in the dark about their activities. They may agree to not engage others in a loving/romantic way.

I personally feel betrayed when I am lied to. I find it much harder to get past the object of my affection talking to another and having an affair of the heart as opposed to getting in a situation where they touch or kiss another. My heart is much more fragile than my ego. I was married, but no one poked out my eyes at the ceremony! LOL...meaning I could and did still look at beauty. My wife and I often went out with friends and dirty danced the night away with others in group settings. Call me crazy...but I actually loved that others found my wife desirable...who could blame them...so did I! We played...but she came home with me and vice versa. Yes...we did split, but for totally unrelated reasons. I may seem kooky, but I did get aroused when I knew that others wanted to bed my wife. We would go home after and outting and take out all our excitement on each other! We were the object of each others romantic love that included but exceeded the sexual component. Just food for thought~ "
(end quote)

I repeat: "So it's more about how this seemingly innocuous and isolated incident can engender larger, more damaging things to arise...cause and effect...KARMA. While "it was just a kiss" might sound plausible at first, that's where it starts. If that's okay, then how many other things become okay? If we keep moving the boundaries of ethical behavior, then soon, we will have no boundaries and ANYTHING will be okay. Is this a question of the decline in moral/ethical standards? I think so. In that regard, i tend to be conservative in my views. Yes, couples have to agree on what the various definitions are in their relationships....but that's not what i feel the issue really is. I am thinking about the big picture, not the "moment." It's easy to justify your moments.

But in the grand scheme of things as spiritual/emotional/personal development goes...are we excusing our moments at the expense of our evolution? Are we creating an environment/society of desensitization? We've all seen the affects this global village has had on children, alone. Old fashioned values have retreated into the custody of the religious right. And i don't think their definition is the only one to be had. It was once unheard of for children to be shooting meth...now it's "common." It became increasingly acceptable. As did sex before adulthood. Now it's common for kids to be sexually active at puberty or even earlier. Was that ONE TIME the ONE KID had sex necessarily wrong? maybe not. But it did lead to other things, and it did have an affect on us, globally, didn't it? So...I'm still not convinced that non-monogamy is harmless.

And JH, you make a good point about actors and massage...in that particular area, the point may very well be about INTENT. Purpose. You said, "I find it much harder to get past the object of my affection talking to another and having an affair of the heart as opposed to getting in a situation where they touch or kiss another. My heart is much more fragile than my ego." Maybe the massage and the acting is okay, because the purpose is not to "cheat" but to get some treatment for a physical ailment, or to earn a living that is about "pretending" and everyone involved understands it doesn't' mean it's real...although, sometimes is DOES BECOME REAL because it's hard for us to separate such an exact mimicry of romantic actions from an INTENTIONAL one...But I'm after the deeper meaning, here. Not necessarily the situational meaning....the global one. The futuristic one. The cause and effect one. All this overt "Freedom" we have can also come with greater responsibility. We don't live in a vacuum.

Here's another thought...I would rather have a partner who does not believe in an open relationship...and here's why: Let's say two people are in a relationship and they have agreed to be monogamous. One of them might believe in only monogamy, and the other might believe in either monogamy or non-monogamy, defined only by the agreement made. Regardless of any "agreements" or understandings two people may have come to about the boundaries of their relationship in this scenario, should the situation arise where a decision has to be made whether or not to take a ride on the "Good ship Lollipop"--that person who believes in non-monogamy might choose to err on the side of her own beliefs--which would be a natural response, really. (This is of course, assuming that people operate according to their beliefs). If your personal cosmology is, therefore, one of non-monogamy, I encourage you to choose partners who don't care about monogamy.


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Open Relationships Vs. Monogamy (1)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4


You are in a bar with friends, and you turn around, and your single friend is kissing--open-mouth, sexually, kissing-- your friend who is in a relationship. They say it's no big deal, because they both understood it didn't mean anything. Further, the coupled friend announces that not only has she and her girlfriend discussed this type of thing, but that it's perfectly okay, and she would in fact enjoy watching her girlfriend make love with someone else, and vice versa.

How would you feel about this?

First, If this happened behind the absent gf's back--and i was friends with her, i would feel honor bound to mention it, yes. The question for me is whether i feel it is my business--though i sort of feel like if we all made that kind of thing our business, there'd be less infidelity--but perhaps that's a side issue...

...but, i want to be clear--this is not overtly about cheating-- notice that i said the "non- monogamous" behavior was deemed acceptable by the girlfriend who was not present during the kiss...so this is more about how to make a moral/ethical decision FOR ONESELF when those involved seem to be perfectly fine with the behavior...the cheating aspects comes in i suppose only in the context of how different people react to that behavior.

As far I'm concerned, if you are being non-monogamous to a person you say you are committed to or in love with, that's cheating, and most certainly not "commitment." The phrase "Forsaking all others" pops into my mind....so is it that the gay community is "acting out" in regard to the lack of standardized commitment rituals?? The marriage issue. Do they feel their ethical choices are somehow free of the same rigors because they are not really "married"? So what are they doing then, playing house? (this is another issue that can branch from this...gay marriage....).

But more on topic, I think if you're not able to be monogamous you ought to call it what it really is: namely, non-monogamous. I don't think non-monogamy and commitment go together. It would be an oxymoron to be a non-monogamous committed couple. For me, being in love and being committed has an implied edict of fidelity. I would NOT be okay with that sort of behavior if it was my girlfriend. I am very affectionate, and sometimes overtly flirty, but i draw the line on open-mouth kissing. This is just MY opinion. Obviously there are many differing ones, and I'm seeking some clarity on this, as it has come up in my life several times in various ways.

And while i also agree that good friends are hard to find, I've found that that's just as true for good partners. My friends are also my family-- since I don't have a family....but that wouldn't be my provocation for mentioning it anyway. It would be because on a human/ spiritual/ ethical level, i would feel it's wrong, no matter what. And no matter what people say, they are ultimately not OKAY about it. Inevitably, someone will feel wronged. I see it as surface calm. Surface acceptance. There can be all kinds of reasons why a person would tell their partner that's okay. Maybe they are fearful of putting constraints on it; fearful that those constraints might cause the other free-spirited partner to leave the relationship.

In the case where BOTH partners behave this way, i just feel it's a license to misbehave and
avoid the true nature of commitment. For instance, what is it that you give me, if not your exclusive attention sexually? How am i special, or different from the next person who crosses your path if you can do exactly the same with her, as with me? Now there are those who would vehemently disagree with me and accuse me of being somehow less evolved. I would have to say that evolution does not include, for me, the loss of a moral compass, and you certainly can't guide yourself with a broken one.

I still feel the same way about it. I think the situation will dissolve into jealousy and mistrust and harm. So it's more about how this seemingly innocuous and isolated incident can engender larger, more damaging things to arise....cause and effect....KARMA. While "it was just a kiss" might sound plausible at first, that's where it starts. If that's okay, then how many other things become okay? If we keep moving the boundaries of ethical behavior, then soon, we will have no boundaries and ANYTHING will be okay. Is this a question of the decline in moral/ethical standards? I think so. In that regard, i tend to be conservative in my views. This might also beg the question about sexual behaviors in general...where are the lines of morality? What are the lines we draw for ourselves and which ones are imposed on us conceptually by society/media/parents? Perhaps that is another topic too.

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Fuckedupedness


[UPDATED 30Jun09--this blog post has been updated to include things left out, and new things since it was written, almost 2 years ago]


I've become a little harsh. I'm on my last gay nerve about romance, i guess. So
when i say to my friends, "Don't be a dumbass" i mean that in the most loving way. LOL.

Really, i think it all stems from this overwhelming file of evidence i have that 99% of all lesbians and lesbian-wanna- bees, and fence-jumpers are just one big screaming touchstone for FUCKEDUPEDNESS. I don't recall feeling this strongly about it back-when. It seemed we were all cut from primarily the same cloth, and there were options...dates to be had... relationships to explore....or maybe i was just naive. Maybe i hadn't gathered enough data until now. Does it take 45 years to gather that data? I think that's actually what I was doing by writing both Plethora and ISO. Manifestations of the DATA.

Maybe the Mayans were right and we're headed for that revolution of spirituality and evolution in 2012, and this is merely the precursor...the "getting worse before it gets better" scenario which all caregivers, or mothers with small children and an arsenal of peroxide and BandAids are intimately familiar with. The very fact that sapphists like me, and assorted other friends exist, seems to indicate that while we might be a dying breed, we must exist somewhere...are we just a breed somehow incapable of finding each other? Where are all of them hiding? where are our people?

And what has MY experience with dating been? Aside from my 5 longterm relationships of 9, 4, 3, 2 years, and 1 1/2 years, respectively, and the little trysts in between, in the authentic sense, i would have to say my dating relationships have been limited. A blip on the radar screen. I didn't date in high school and had only one date in college, and went from that into my epiphany that i was gay, my first girlfriend, and my first sexual experience, all rolled into one event and one person. From there, I went into the mode of serial monogamist. Then, as the relationships got shorter, and my list of criteria longer, I found myself single more often, and had only a one year period where I was actually "dating." But even those experiences weren't truly "dating" if we are using the old-fashioned definition. There were no sparkly meetings, evenings out to the movies and dinner, and a chaste kiss by the door before one of us went home alone and called later in the week for another date.

That list of dates was 11...and the one-night-stands and/or one hit wonders and/or DUDS of:

  1. The one who who visited me, drove an hour and a half home, then called me and said she'd turn around and drive back right then just for a kiss from me--which she did, though i thought she was kidding, and that ended up being a one-sided encounter from whence sprang Justice's jibe: "The way to get rid of a woman is NOT to give her a mind-blowing orgasm.".....and
  2. an agreed upon fuck that was one-sided with me using a toy and then being unable to let her stay the night and making her drive home 2 hours in a thunderstorm because I was so freaked out about it, and
  3. The one i met online, talked to at length, then drove 5 hours out of town to meet, and her huge horse of a dog jumped all over me and ruined my good clothes, while also ruining the house and leaving presents on the floor, whose house had a layer of dust an inch thick all over it, who seemed to be a hoarder, with stacks and stacks of newspapers, magazines, papers...who was a hard-core diabetic with a dismal life expectancy, and admitted that she often forgot to care for her health, and who had a medicine cabinet full of psych meds, and then insisted i could safely sleep next to her with no hanky panky, and then came to bed stark-naked....
  4. ...the one whom I met once for lunch in MO after chatting on the internet and phone, and with whom I had no chemistry, who was rude to the waitress at our lunch, could not stop talking about her ex, and who lived with her mother who was NOT disabled or bedridden, and who later blasted me for not writing to her or calling, and for my implication that we were not a romantic item, when I thought that was pretty clear, and
  5. ...the one with whom I had one date, and liked her as a person, but had ZERO romantic chemistry with, and
  6. ...the one to whom I felt no attraction, though still I tried to get past that pesky lack of chemical response, fearing that i wasn't trying hard enough or giving it a fair chance; we had sex twice, then realized it was just not going to happen, while also discovering she was emotionally damaged and also a pathological liar...(see the Sullied Pajamas series).
  7. ...the date that had no longterm promise, but turned into Friends with Benefits, but dissolved when she found someone she wanted to date seriously, and
  8. ....the date who had absolutely no future with me, as she was about as dumb as a box of rocks; but the sex was good, and it provided another much-needed fuckfest, which eventually could not continue either, because she was a pathological liar, and (she appeared as a character in Plethora, and I didn't have to change many of the facts for it to fit into the plot).
  9. the rescue that turned into a sexual encounter, and another Friends with Benefits situation; I knew she could never capture my heart> this was interrupted by dating other people, and eventually moved to just friendship, but then was dissolved altogether by continued delusion and betrayal on her part....(see Herniated Disco: Necessary Scissors)
  10. The former actress who was now back home in Kansas, who came to visit/meet me, and turned out to be a nutjob. (See Nightmare Dates: Actress with a Bad Vibe )
  11. ...and the one whom I thought was just a coffee friend, as well as STRAIGHT, but who drank too much wine one night and confessed that she wanted me to kiss her since the first time we met, and then wanted me to do other things, upstairs in my bedroom, and who disappeared afterward, reappeared for more of the same and disappeared again.....see Mercy Kissing...

*for another example more recently, see
Ditto.

And then there were the two pseudo-relationships that were doomed from the start with Big Eraser (a bad girl, previous drug dealer, alcoholic, cheat and liar, who I convinced myself i could save, and who eventually inflicted some nasty bruises and a broken toe) and

PhillyFilly (a recipient of 3 kidney transplants, who lived with her parents, for whom she had little respect if the condition of her room was any indication, who I tried to convince myself I loved, because i wanted to be in love so desperately, but had to finally admit it was impossible to convince yourself of love; this process was hurried along by her thinking that it was acceptable for me to support her ass for three or four years while she went to nursing school, never honored her promises to me, never seemed to think i was worth fighting for, bored me out of my mind, had a hidden drinking problem, a reality problem, an initiative problem, and delivered even more boring sex which i found numerous ways to avoid...(see the "CircleCircleCircle fiasco",The Truth is Ever Clear and Et Tu, Brute? ),

And then there was the Angst Ridden Blogist girl, (not an obvious romantic interest, but at least a seemingly profound connection)--with whom I exchanged a novella's worth of intellectual/ philosophical emails and some phone calls, who seemed to be some sort of cosmic kindred, but whom I never met in person, since she changed her mind after I rented the car and made the arrangements, because she decided she was suddenly dating her best friend. Then she swiftly turned on me like some card-carrying harpy.

Justice and I were discussing our strings of women, and came to the conclusion that NONE of them were good relationships at all. So we've not had a single good relationship in our entire lives.

My experiences with dating were all like this::: (1) meet on the Internet or--rarely--in person the first time, (2) make a date (3) get climbed in an amorous fashion the first time we are together, before i had even decided how i felt about them, (4)allow it to turn into some fuckfest, (5) then discover the 27 deal breakers and,(6) then deal with the aftermath.

I talk to my friends about most things, even the personal ones, and they all seem to have a similar story where sexual escapades are concerned. Mine seems no different: In the bedroom, I too heard similar declarations. The most common two being: (1) I have never let ANYONE do THAT before you! and (2) I have never had an orgasm that big, ever! I was also called "a master," "the best lover I've ever had," and told that they couldn't get enough of me....(oh, even one of my ex's new girlfriends was drunk enough at the bar one night to THANK ME for all the great things, sexually, I had taught my Ex; things she was now enjoying).

"Happy to be of service," I said blandly.

So, I didn't ever feel like my sexual prowess was in question. (Well, until that "CircleCircleCircle" fiasco with PhillyFilly, which I decided was a fluke based on her inexperience, even with her own body). I have made women open up like they'd never opened before, had them doing things they thought they hated but decided they loved, and willing to be my sex slave at the snap of a finger. And none of them--NONE--did I want in any way other than strictly carnal because I had "needs." Not one, did I love, Did I for one minute believe I'd want to keep for any appreciable amount of time. And yes, i did make it my mission to study sexual pleasuring until I felt I should have some kind of fucking degree in it. (That would be called, naturally, a Fucking Degree.) I earned those accolades, by god. But i did so thinking it would be one element in making me a good LIFE PARTNER, not just a good lay. What did it matter, if I didn't want to keep the woman I had just stupefied?

I spent years believing that there must be something horribly wrong with me, until I had my epiphany that it wasn't me, that all my self-work had actually paid off, and that all this "crazy" or "damaged" I thought *I* was, was really not the case, and, in fact, was represented to the nth degree in THEM. I finally realized that they were all MORE crazy, on MORE levels, and infinitely MORE fucked up than I was. A dubious liberation, to be sure. For awhile I was relieved that I was not so damaged as I had believed. It meant that there were a slew of damaged women out there, who resided in my dating pool. If I had met someone, romantically, who was "normal" and real and self-actualized and financially stable, and say, willing to get tickets to cool events and to spend time with me---why, I would have been in heaven, I tell ya. My suitors were either trying to impress me and buy my love or convince me I should be the sugar mama, as if my own happiness was inconsequential in the equation.

So I ask you: are we left with friend-dates just to enjoy the company of quality women without the perk of sex or romance? Maybe that's what I'm headed for, along with meaningless one-night-stands to curb the carnal appetites, when and IF I can even find that, without the threat of an STD. (which means I can only have "safe sex" for the rest of my life).

I'm going to dig a hole and crawl in and cover myself up.
Like a turd.
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13 February 2008

Maybe, Just Maybe I was Wrong.

In several previous posts, I expressed my doubt that Hillary would be elected.

Apparently, I might soon be dining on fricasseed crow.

My opinion was based on my underlying frustration and contention that the American voting public couldn't possibly be open minded enough to put a woman in the White House...now, I'm not so sure. And there is some indication that Obama could win. A black man whose first and middle names are awfully close to a certain Iraqi dictator and a terrorist....that alone, shocks me....could it be that people are seeing the real issues, now? Is it possible that people care more now?? Now that their lives have been turned upside down for the last 8 years?

If Hillary or Obama make it to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, and gets to sit in the Big Chair, I'll be one chipper constituent--even more chipper if it's Hillary, as I'm not quite as excited about Obama--but way happier than if it's John McCain, another freakin' Republican. I would love nothing better than for my earlier predictions to be WRONG. I'd love to have my faith in the voting public restored by an overwhelming outcry for change.

But for some time, I've been a naysayer about that possibility. As this election enthusiasm floods the nation, I can see that I could be wrong.....I was always really clear that when election time swung around again, I'd be SPRINTING to the polling station like a hungry cheetah, and casting my vote for the Democrat (though i am a registered Independent). I am so thrilled that the name BUSH won't even be on the ballot, that i do a happy-dance, even when no one is watching.

I'm convinced that Hillary is highly qualified, due to her unique experience, and though Obama says all the right things and is an accomplished orator, I feel he doesn't have enough practical experience yet, though he's appealing in many ways.....be that as it may, I still wonder if American voters are ready for either a woman or a black man in the Oval Office. I hope one of them is elected, however. I'm actually a little hopeful about it now, as trending indicates that voters are motivated these days. With good reason.

Some voters are motivated in an insipid direction--like those who started a "Lou Dobbs for President" website. It's insipid not because Dobbs is an unappealing choice (I frankly respect him and his personal and political stance) but these individuals fail to recognize that a non-politico doesn't run just because there's a petition asking him to...and even if he did, it's far too late for him to jump in, so this movement is an inane waste of time and resources that could be better served with the Dems who ARE running.

So i sit chewing my nails and squirming in my armchair, my voting hand all atwitter, hoping for that Historical event to come to fruition.


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12 February 2008

All Ten Fingers







I have finally learned my lesson. Vanity should never be more important than health. I think i can hear my fingernails cheering...it's kinda muffled, though.

I have a bandaid on all ten fingers. You are wondering why, aren't you? Okay, I'll blame it on the lack of coffee and expound on that one.

I have a tendency to have weak fingernails. I sometimes refer to them as Fingerfilms, since they are not nearly as sturdy as NAILS. I am always trying to stay on my biotin and keep nail hardener on them and let them grow out to a modest length...though not TOO long, because God knows i might finally become sexually active again at some point... but i digress... which is something I do well....

ANYWAY. I use my hands a lot. I'm a hands-on kinda gal. The inevitable nail-biter movie, painting, building furniture, typing, pulling my hair out, flipping people off... and Sometimes i hate the way my fingernails look, and there's nothing worse than giving a Full Frontal Finger to someone, and them paying more attention to your wretched fingernails, than to the more pertinent message your middle digit offers.

If i have a date or a coffee meeting or have to go out in public socially, i'll often break down and put false fingernails on. But inevitably, they give me trouble, because false is false, and i can't always get them to shape correctly, and this leads to starting over with another fingernail, after i have glued one on...and that causes quite a bit of irritation and sometimes some actual tearing of cuticles or other tender finger-skin.

My last go round with this yesterday was a disaster from the start. After several tries, i got them looking like naturally fake nails, and then i made the mistake of using the nail polish that looks like house paint. It was horrid, so i had to take those two coats off and start again. But finally i got them looking good and then was painting a picture and got paint all over them and under them. I've been known to get frustrated when a paintbrush doesn't give me the look i want on the board, (and yes, i use boards, not canvas...fiber board or wall board--sort of like that pegboard you use in the garage to hang tools on...but the kind without the holes..although my next project is to actually paint a picture on one of those pegboards....There i go, digressing again...)

So I use my fingers when I paint sometimes. That makes for dirty fingernails. Which is at once an unacceptable thing to me after the creation process is done. I have to scrub them with brushes and that either serves to loosen the fingernail glue and make them drop off into the sink drain, or in what seems a contradiction, the nails will neither allow me to get them clean nor fall off--no matter how much i abuse them. Then i'm stuck with some fingernails that wouldn't budge if i sat backward on a motorcycle and dragged them on the pavement, and some that fall off with the mere suggestion of hot water and soap. The result is a pair of hands with some stubborn, multicolored filthy-looking nails, and some torn, bleeding, rough with dollops of dried glue that create a texture like the surface of the moon. After a volcanic eruption.

Last night, i stood at the sink with my remaining nails in scalding water and soap and forced the fake nails off. I buffed my nails, cleaned them, applied vitamin E oil to them and donned them all with bandaids. They will heal, and i will not pursue the evils of false nails again. If i go out in public with bandaids on all ten fingers, that will be just as unsightly as short, damaged fingernails. Reminds me of those drug commercials where the side effects of the drug are worse than the condition the drug was for.

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11 February 2008

The Truth About Cats & Dogs. And Horses. And Mooses.

I was talking to my friend who is dating a woman who has lots of horses, and we began discussing all things horse-related. She wanted to know, after hearing a story about her date's near-trampling, how a horse can just run over you...like they don't know you're there...

I told her it was like my dog, Giz, when i go to open the door to let him out--if the cats are in his line of trajectory, he just runs right over them...cats know how to tuck and roll, so they never get hurt by it, and he doesn't do it on purpose, he's just oblivious....he has his eye on that door, and nothing else exists for him in that moment...
:catpet:
But imagine if it was a HORSE and a human...quite different.... kind of a "horse of a different color" you might say....you might say that, but i doubt it...that was some kind of metaphor mixing i don't think they've named yet....

anyway, my friend wanted to know if horses rear up and try to pound you with their hooves...i told her not usually, unless the horse was just crazy. That was more like what Moose do. (I was tempted to use Mooses, or Meeses...you know, plural for Moose. But it really is "Moose" in both forms, plural or singular... grammar lesson, over...).
:smileygeek:

Anyway, (again) A moose is very mean, and they will jump up and pummel you with their hooves. And they'll try to gore you with their antlers too.

It's a good thing dogs don't have hooves. Or antlers for that matter. (Except at Christmas, when we defile their dogness with reindeer head gear). But if dogs did have hooves and antlers, I'm sure no amount of tucking and rolling by cats in the line of trajectory will keep them from getting hurt. I do like to watch this happen, though. Once my cats have been trampled by the dog, and are upright again, they usually have one ear cocked back and are frowning a little. Then they go to the window to watch him watering the tree outside, and they think bad thoughts about him. Probably why they wait at the door to swat him on the rump when he comes in. He ignores them. Once he even ran over one of them again, on his way in. She spent the rest of the night on top of the television, plotting his demise.

So...back to horses.....
I have had my experiences with horses and know that you have to be mindful. They can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. As a kid i was bitten in the neck and between the shoulder blades; i was kicked several times, dragged, bucked off countless other times, trampled, and even had a close call with one falling on me. A bee stung her and she reared up and lost her balance, and then stumbled. I had to kick away, tuck and roll, (just like a cat) and then bear crawl so i wouldn't get squished. Sometimes it's helpful to imitate cats and bears.

My life in the country as a child consisted of things like motorcycles, horses, chickens, ducks, cats, dogs, donkeys, coyotes, snakes....i was one with nature, and sometimes that wasn't such good thing, but i was a kid, so i wasn't aware of it being unusual. That was my reality.

My favorite horse was "Chico" a brown and white pinto gelding. (I also had a Pinto station wagon, but the two were not related). I always told people that Chico was very polite; when we'd come to a fence, he'd stop and let me go over first.
:horsepoop:
He did like to buck a lot. He was just ornery. Like me. Often i would wind up on his neck, flailing at his ears while he tried to dethrone me. My mother, (or "Maternal Parental Unit" as i call her now--not because she was ever maternal, but because it sounds distant--which is where i like to keep her) she used to tell people that she'd look out the window into the pasture and see me riding Chico like a banshee, standing up on the saddle. Or I'd be doing that trick riding stuff: running alongside, picking up speed, and then flipping myself up into the saddle. I was usually dressed like an Indian. She was surprised i didn't go shirtless and wear a loincloth.

My Dad made the newspapers as a young man, by being the first person in a hundred years to be run over by a stagecoach... he and his brothers were in the music business, and they built this stagecoach with their names painted on the side, and they went cross-country pulled by two big horses, to sell their 45 records...one time, my dad was holding the bridle of one of the horses and he got spooked, (not my dad, the horse--i think his name was Old Baldy...not my dad, the horse) and he wound up being run over by the whole thing. It made the newspaper, a picture of him in the hospital bed with a broken bone in his neck. I wish i had a copy of that. The headline was "Man gets run over by a stagecoach for the first time in 100 years."

He was probably lucky it wasn't Mooses. Moose. Meese. A Moose.
whatever2

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Cold Hands, Warm......Thighs.

My right hand is always colder than my left hand. Now, before any of you conjure up something naughty, let me expound.
explain
My office, (meaning the place where my computer resides) is in my basement. It's a finished basement, unless you don't count the windows, which the original builder saw fit to install without weather stripping. . .or else the glass is smaller than the frame. . .I'm not sure which. Either way, the basement is about 20 degrees colder than the rest of my house. Hence,
the temperature differential between my left and right hand. My right hand is always up on the mouse, mousing around, while my left hand gets to snuggle in between my thighs, which I have it on good authority is at least 20 degrees WARMER than the median temperature of the room.

Since I am forced to use my computer regularly because I work at home and everything I do is somehow related to the computer, (Including sex, dammit), I inevitably have to deal with my right hand being cold.

Always the problem solver, I bought some of those brown cloth gloves that are used for general household chores, and put one on my right hand. I cut the fingertips off of it (BEFORE I put it on, lest you think I mindlessly lopped off my digits--if I were going to lop off my digits, I would be mindful about it. . .like, I would have my woodburning tool there to cauterize the wounds,
because I'd have to drive myself to the emergency room, and I'd need to steer with my left hand, and carry my fingertips in my lopped-off-digits-hand, so the surgeon could sew them back on. . .which they WOULD be able to do because I carried the fingertips in my right hand, which kept them icy and preserved).

:thinking3: Did I digress?

Where was I? oh, the gloves.
:giggle:
I cut the ends of the glove-fingers off, and wore it on my right hand, so that I could have manual dexterity for pointing and rollerballing and clicking and scrolling and typing, while keeping the rest of my hand warm.

DISCLAIMER: seeiwasright
I'm allowed to wear one glove, as I am an eccentric writer-person, and not a weird pop star who had a race-transplant and likes little boys.

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Knock & the Door Won't Be Opened to You

I have a condition called Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, and that often means I wind up sleeping during the day, and being awake at night. This schedule has its negative aspects. One of them is the fact that I'm asleep while everyone else is going about their business.

Few things can awaken the irrational beast in me faster than someone knocking on my door when I'm asleep. First, it scares me, and so that's what is known as a rude awakening. Who likes waking up scared?

Knocks on the door have always scared me, even when I'm awake. I've tried to figure out the psychological root of this, but all I can come up with is that it somehow represents a stranger, insisting on entering my space, without prior written consent. . .One would think I had been traumatized by answering a door and finding some guy in a hockey mask who tried to hack me in half. But nothing like that has ever happened to me. Unless I blocked it out. I guess I could have traumatic amnesia. But then, if I can't remember it, it couldn't have been that traumatic, I am guessing.

Anyway, for whatever reason, knocks on my door set my heart to hammering, and I always run upstairs to look out the window with a view overlooking my front porch.

I learned a long time ago that the decision to answer the door depended strongly on who it was. Since I don't have any local friends (I didn't say "no friends" I said "no LOCAL friends"--just in case you think I'm friendless and decide to come visit me. . .I won't answer the door, you know. Mmm. . ..maybe that's why I don't have any friends. I mean, no local friends).

Anyway.

Peeking out the window is a much less extreme reaction than what I used to do. I used to run to the bedroom to get my gun and have it behind my back with the safety off when I opened the door. Now I just look out the window and usually there's no need for the gun, because I can see it's someone I don't know and don't want to open the door to, anyway.

Some time ago, it occurred to me that I am under no obligation to open the door, just because someone knocked. It's like a Pavlovian response that stems from our need to follow some universally understood pattern: knock on door/open door. But after giving this some thought, I recognized a self-empowering truth: I don't have to answer.

And Experience has shown that I don't usually know who they are, anyway, and if I don't know them, they are probably some local church-goer who wishes to save my soul from its current trajectory to an eternal fiery furnace for which there is no evidence. I used to toy with these people, by answering the door and when they asked if I went to church, or if I'd accepted Jesus as my personal savior, I offered some scandalous and disrespectful retort designed to spin them into spiritual confusion. (Something like "No, I can't accept Jesus as my personal savior, because Satan is my deity of choice, and he doesn't like Jesus very much." Or I'll go to the door with a ketchup-smeared chef's knife in my hand and growl, "Can't you see that I'm in the middle of an important ritual?"

I eventually lost interest in this little game, just like cats who play with a mouse until it stops moving, and then it's no fun anymore. These preachy types were just like another mouse. Or maybe more like lemmings. Either way, they eventually just became aggravating. It wasn't worth me getting my sleep disturbed. And often, the knock interrupted some erotic dream which I was enjoying immensely and would never be able to rejoin when I climbed back in bed.

So I was finally forced to post a sign at my door, which read,

NO SOLICITORS.
IF I don't know you, don't knock.
This goes for church-people too.
Knock, and the door won't be opened to you.
A stranger is just a person I haven't SHOT yet.



I added a little graphic of a hand holding a gun.

I haven't heard a knock since. Although I did find a package that the UPS girl had quietly left for me yesterday.

She didn't knock.

I might need to order some more black candles and a sacrificial dagger.

Maybe I should add an addendum that package delivery people were exempt from a bullet.


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