When I was a boy...

Reading this article made me realize why it was that I stuck it out in math and science - because I was a boy in middle school.

Not literally, but socially and physically I did not begin to gain feminine qualities until the 8th grade or so, maybe even later. I wore baggy clothes, I hadn't hit puberty, I played sports, and I hung around with my brother and his friends. Until the 8th grade I refuuuuused to shop in the girls section. I despised all things feminine and prided myself on the fact that my brother's friends all used to tell me how much like a boy I was.

Now you might ask, what the hell does that have to do with math and science? Well, just think about it - my female middle school counterparts entered the phase of lip gloss, skin tight jeans, boyband obsessions, and crushes. Suddenly, they cared about their image - they wanted boys to like them. Did I want boys to like me? Sure, but I wanted them to respect me in a different sense - as an equal. I hated girly girls - I thought they were boring and stupid. I prided myself on being able to do more push-ups than my brother, on my basketball skills, my bruises from climbing trees, and all other unfeminine things.

In fact, until I met a boy at sleepaway camp the summer before 8th grade, my parents were afraid that I didn't like boys at all - that I'd grow up to be a lesbian. (Now, I don't know how they would get that idea - I despised girls!)

By the time I hit puberty I was at a math and science high school surrounded by a very non-judgemental atmosphere. Everyone there was a nerd in one sense or another, everyone was smart - I didn't have to try to fit in.

I remember this one girl in middle school who was every bit as smart as I was (her final average was only 4 tenths of a point below mine, something she would never let me live down). She had an obsession with Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys and spent lunchtime chit chatting with her girlfriends about boybands and lip gloss. She was real smart, but she never spoke up in class. The teachers only knew her from her great exam scores and stellar papers. And that is what made the difference.

I really believe that my late-blooming saved me. If I had thought of myself as a female in middle school, I would have taken cues from everyone around me as to what was feminine and what wasn't. Speaking up in class was not feminine, answering and asking questions was not feminine. Doing well in math and science sure as hell wasn't feminine. The expectations were there, I just ignored them because I didn't associate myself with girls. So maybe I was a little bit of a "show-off" in middle school. Not too much, but enough for me to gain the confidence I needed to believe in myself. People told me I was smart and I started to believe them. (And don't tell me that people don't have to be told they're smart to know that they are - it's just not true. People form an image of themselves first and foremost through the reflection of themselves in the eyes of others).

And that's the story.

The next step in blogging... Yikes

I received this e-mail today regarding my personal blog (not this one).
That blog was not linked in any way to my school related activities (meaning they had to do some online snooping to find it). This makes me feel a little strange.

[Names changed for privacy are in italics.]
-------------------------------------
Hi LeMiL,
I work in MOOMOO School's Communications Office. We're considering linking to a couple of student blogs that could help prospective students get more of an idea of what it's like to be an engineering major at MOOMOO.

Are you, in fact, majoring in engineering, and do you plan to keep blogging about your MOOMOO experience?

If we did link to your blog, you would maintain total control over what you write, but we would reserve the right to remove the link depending on the appropriateness and/or relevance of the content that you feature.

Any thoughts about this idea?

-some lady

---

some lady
Director of Public Information
& Web Managing Editor
MOOMOO School of Engineering
MOOMOO College
------------------------------------------------------

The strangest thing is that I responded saying that I didn't really object to being linked to, but that I wouldn't necessarily conform to any relevant content in my blog. If my blog actually winds up getting linked, I think I'd feel rather self-conscious about it...

To Write

I'd like to write, I mean REALLY write, not just blog. I don't mean write novels or even short stories, but just write from my heart and then be able to read over my thoughts and laugh, or cry or just think. I want to write poetry that captures who I am, but at the same time leaves mysteries. I want to experience the flow of having something to say and exactly the words to say it. It doesn't have to be timeless, just enough for the present. Enough for me to enjoy it. To keep a notebook or some folder on my laptop full of little pieces of writing that remind me of myself and how I'm changing, growing, and thinking.

I am thinking, aren't I?

How Harry Met Sally Pt.2: Recap and Wrap Up

Aaah! I tried to reread my last post and realized how painfully long, unwitty, and *BLAH* it was. *BLAH* in fact describes it quite nicely.
So, to save you from having to read it, here's a quick recap: DQ meets P. DQ introduces me to P. P hits on DQ. Time passes, P loses interest and starts hitting on me instead while DQ's interest piques. I hide it from DQ.

Now, the rest of the story: Time passes. I go away for 2 weeks, P hits on DQ again. I come back, hell breaks loose. Confrontations abound. Healing, time passes. I finally start a relationship with P. 5 months pass. we break up and stop speaking for 2 months, then get back together. 1 year passes. We break up, stop speaking for 5 months, then get back together. almost 3 more years pass, we're still together.

So that's the story. I'll share some anecdotes of our relationship eventually, like when I have nothing else on my mind to banter about, but for now that's it.

How Harry Met Sally - The story of my relationship

Missed me?
No I haven't disappeared off the face of the earth or carelessly broken my vow to update regularly. The truth is that P has been up here visiting me since last Friday and only left this morning at 5AM. I only get to see him every so often so blogging time had to be replaced with P time, and I'm not sorry for it.

Now... where was I? You've met DQ and got a glimpse of my messed up head. Since it was P time this past week I guess it's only fair to devote this blog to my dear P.

I have a lot of great things to say about P, after all we've been together for over 4 years now and I've known him for over 5. We've had our ups and downs, and our relationship today is nothing at all like our first year together - in a positive way. We've had our breaks too - out of the five and change years that I've known him we were on non-speaking terms for a sum total of seven months. Well, here's the short version of the story of me and P...

I met him playing basketball in the park. Actually, my best friend DQ met him playing basketball and was telling me about what an asshole he was for teasing her. At the same time, she was intrigued and wouldn't stop talking about him for a long time and wanted me to go to the park with her to meet him (she went on a regular basis because she used to play ball for a team). So I went - I used to play ball too. This was around the end of May, so summer was just about to begin and that summer was going to be one hell of a drama for the three of us... If you've seen enough teenage dramas, you already know where this is all going.

I was the shy, quiet type and I was also pretty damn small and skinny for my age. No curves, no femininity.... and braces (a late bloomer by all measures). My friend DQ on the other hand, looked about 5 years older than she really was, had gotten her braces off years ago and had a nice set of curves on her, quite an ass, and was pretty as hell. Stereotypically though, DQ can be a little bit 'spacey', slow even. She's got wit and she's a great person, but there's something about her that's a bit off when it comes to interacting with others and catching on to common sense.

The summer started off with P hitting on DQ in a major way - they exchaned numbers and screennames and started chatting up online and on the phone. I played the sidekick role and served as a means for P to find out more about DQ while DQ gushed over him to me, delibirating whether dating him was a good idea or not. I didn't mind one bit - I was pretty indifferent about the guy. He would IM me often for the duration of this flirtation and ask about DQs personality and history, joke around about guys at the park, and pretend to try to "hook me up" with various characters he knew, including his own brothers. The more he talked to me though, the more personal were his questions...

By the time DQ made up her mind and decided she really liked P, he no longer seemed interested. He told me online that he didn't think they would work out anyway, that they were too different, even that she was too immature. DQ, however, continued to have a serious crush on him and it only intensified with the apparent lack of interest on his part (who doesn't love a challenge?) I continued to speak to him online and somewhere along the line he started complimenting me more and more and during one of our conversations he asked me to call him so that we could talk about his cousin who he wanted me to meet.

At this point let me stop and say, Yes I should have known better! But come on, I was a naive, giddy teenager with no relationship experience whatsoever. The closest I had to a boyfriend by this time was a two week summer thing at a sleepaway camp when I was 12 (though almost 13). We held hands awkwardly and hid away during free time to kiss stealthily. Yea, that was pretty much it. I've kissed other guys since then, but only in games of truth or dare and spin the bottle. I had a couple of dates that went awkwardly and didn't amount to anything. I was pretty much a newbie to dating and guys in general. So talking to this older guy was fun for me, and the fact that he paid me enough attention to want to talk about hooking me up with other guys was even more fun.

So I called him. We spoke for a long time, and as you may have guessed his cousin was not the topic of conversation. He was charming and witty, he complimented me and told me how mature and smart I was. He cracked jokes and made me smile. Then he asked me out. I did the only sensible thing I could do and politely told him no, that my best friend still had a crush on him, and that it wouldn't be appropriate. (Besides, I didn't really think of him that way... yet). He continued coaxing me and playing the role of this slain man who just couldn't move on not knowing whether things could have been different. He even wrote me this poem (and I still have it after all these years):

There are miles between us,
Yet you feel so near.
Insults and rejection
Are what I fear.

To hold you, to love you, this is what I want
This is true
How to approach you, to talk to you
I'm yet to figure out how to do.

You're so beautiful, so wonderful
So full of perfectness.
To have you glimpse at me, smile at me
Sends my world into an utter bliss.

The black and white issue
Should never hold us back.
Open-mindedness and acceptance
Is what society lacks.

Would you be willing to be with me
Although I'm black?
And subject to ridicule
And racial attacks?

Put the pieces of the puzzle together
And find out what I'm about.
But don't start something
You're not willing to carry out.

My heart is vulnerable
And yearns for you.
My anxiety and patience
Wonders what you're going to do

Are you going to accept me, feel me,
Give me the time of day?
Is this the right path, right route,
Is this the right of way?

If no, say nothing
And this is the last poem you'll receive.
My longing for you doesn't end with this poem,
This you can believe.

I don't expect you to say yes,
To get involved with an older man.
But if you do, look around~
I'll be there to love you
All that I can.

Yes I was charmed and giddy. It was very exciting and at the same time I didn't really know what to do. It would hurt my friend terribly if she knew that the guy she was infatuated with was trying to talk to her best friend. I thought it might be better if I waited until she didn't like him anymore to tell her that he had tried to hit on me (afterall, crushes came and went at this stage of our lives). So I pretended that I disliked him. It was so believable that she would sometimes go to great lengths to try to convince me that he was a good guy and that I should really give him a break.

Well, it worked. I don't think it was her coaxing that worked of course, but his. Eventually I gave in and started flirting back. A couple of times we met up secretely and hung out at the park by ourselves or went to the mall. Remember though, I was very inexperienced so this flirty relationship we had was pretty much all it was - flirting. We didn't really kiss, we didn't hold hands. He never even put me in a situation where we'd be able to kiss and he only asked for kisses when there was no way I could give them to him (like while we were in the park and everyone else was there). He didn't ever ask for kisses when we were alone....

This is getting long, I'll have to continue next time ;)

ciao

Religious Folk Would Have a Field Trip With This Dream or "I Want My Mommy"

HOLY FUCKAROO! I can't believe I still have nightmares. I woke up from this dream about 20 minutes ago and when I woke up I scribbled down my reactions and my dream as best as I could. This is word for word what I wrote down as I woke up (excuse the simplistic, scared-shitless, bumbly, stuttery language - I was shaken out of my mind)

"Wow I just had a real nightmare. I woke up and called [P] right away. In it, I was trying to get out, I think I was trying to wake up, but I physically couldn't do it. The image was that I was in a dark room and I kept trying to get past whoever was at the door but they weren't letting me out. There was a lot more meaning to me being stuck in that room and I knew that in my dream, I knew that this was it, this is what life is all about, and I couldn't believe it. I woke up screaming 'No! No!... Nooooo!' And I'm not sure if I was only saying it in my head or if I said it out loud too. When I got enough willpower to escape the room it was literally sucking me back in. I went to try to find my parents, my brother, but all the other doors inthe hallway led nowhere. The hallway looped around so that I had to walk past the evil room no matter what, it just brought me back there. And I was terrified. I mean I was scared for REAL that this was it - this is 'the meaning of life' and that I can't do anything - I can't find 'the light' or my loved ones and that this room is so powerful....

It was so bad that I had to turn on the light when I woke up. I examined the window and window shade - it looked like the door opening that I was trying to get to but couldn't

There was someone else there, in the light. I was calling out to him to help me, but I couldn't find him once I escaped the room. I was calling out to my parents I think...
I just remember trying to muster up the strenght...making numerous attempts and failing each time to get out. And somehow I knew it was all mental, that it had to do with willpower.

I remember thinking how when I went back to the real world it wouldn't matter anymore because now I knew what it was really about. I knew what life REALLY was. As in, what's behind the curtain...

The image of that dark room still haunts me. It's like it can open up and suck you in and then you can't get out. There was an evil little creature, a girl I think, at the door to that room, laughing at me. While I was trying to get out I could only see sillhouete of something dark at the door. I don't think it was her. I think I was afraid of that thing that was keeping me in the room."


Yes, I am aware of all the imagery and metaphors, etc. that this dream evokes. I'm well aware.

With that, I'm going back to bed. I have to be up in less than 3 hours.

Digging for Dirt and Meet DQ

Maybe I'm just not an angry enough person. I can never find something worthy enough to bitch and complain about in detail. Sure I can comment on the humid weather we've been having lately and the fact that my Algebra prof suddenly went homework happy on us, but that's not the kind of material that makes for exciting reading. People want sweat, blood, and tears to be poured out over the page... or at least a bit about sex. Well, having my boyfriend 300 miles away certainly eliminates that topic. No one really wants to hear about happy shmabby revelations or the wonderful time I had today picnicing with my roomates in the serene and peaceful park that's our little secret. And to be honest, I won't really want to reread sappy entries about singing birds and light breezes on the old fashioned wooden swing. Thus, I certainly won't tell you about the card game we played where spoons are a must and subsituting plastic forks or knifes could even be dangerous.

On to more dramatic topics:
Since my life is currently relatively undramatic (except the fact that my boyfriend recently cursed out my brother and his girlfiend, but that doesn't make for that interesting of a story to be honest), I'll have to sink down to the level of a sneaky little bitch and talk about my friends behind their back.

I don't actually do that in life, but I do tend to keep a lot of things inside that I wish I could say outloud.

For example, my best friend who I met in 5th grade and have known for a looong loooong time - let's call her DQ for DelinQuent Drama Queen, is currently dating a man 12 years older than her who wants to have babies with her and get married. Now, I don't have an issue with the age gap or even the fact that he wants to take the relationship seriously. What I don't understand is how in the hell she can take him seriously.

The man is unemployed and has been for quite some time and he's so broke at this point that he can't afford subway fare on a regular basis and often doesn't have enough money to even feed himself. He's living with his sister and trying to get a job, but all the while he's talking to DQ about how much he would want to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her. They've known each other for about 2 months if that much.

He even asked her how she feels about abortion, what would she do if she got pregnant at this point in her life, and so on. I'm thinking, "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM". This man literally can't feed himself, yet he's talking to you about children. But my dear friend DQ says, "Oh I know he wouldn't do that, he's not that type of person." Really dear? Because you know him so goddamn well! This is a man who fucked up his life by doing so much pot that he coudn't stay in school. Though of course he regrets it all now that he's "older and wiser".

I'm not saying you can't give people a second chance in life, but at the same time you need to be realistic. Don't fall for a man who you know from the jump doesn't take shit seriously enough. Yes, it is harder for him to get a job because he has a misdemeanor on his record, but it's not impossible. There are jobs out there and if he didn't feel like he was "too good" for certain types of work he would be able to feed himself and have enough money for subway fare to be able to make it to interviews for other job opportunities. It's one thing if he can afford to take some time off and really look for a good job because he has savings in the bank. But you just can't do that when you know that you're barely living from day to day.

DQ, please, open your eyes. I know you like him and you like the fact that he likes you. I understand that you like the attention from men. Just be careful! I really don't think either of you can handle any babies right now.

Why another blog?

This is my third and final attempt at keeping a blog that will not only get updated on a regular basis, BUT will also keep the important people interested enough to read it. The important people are: me, myself, and I. Yup, you got it. My previous blogging attemps left me so bored with myself that I would cry in pain just looking at my blog. Why do you ask? Clearly, because I kept the damn blog linked to all my profiles and online sites so that every goddamn person I knew could easily get to it and read all the jibber-jabber. So I had to keep it clean, PC, and most of all... BORING. You see, I wasn't writing for me, I was writing for them.
Well let me be the first to say, FUCK YOU "them". This is a blog of liberation. This blog will NOT be linked to anything related to me,myself, and I. Thus, if you know me in real life and you find this blog and read my bullshit it's your OWN damn fault. I didn't ask for your presence and don't let the door hit you on your way out.

Having said that, let me clarify what I mean by this being a blog of "liberation". The concept is that I WON'T need to censor myself or anything that goes in here. This includes details about my life that might hypothetically be connected together by a person I know in real life and lead them to guess who I am. I don't really care. The chances of someone I know browsing this blog randomly, without it being linked to my life in any way, are slim enough. The chances that the person would stay long enough or care enough to figure out who I am are even slimmer. And if they do - I don't REALLY CARE! (I think you get the pattern here).

So, without further ado, this is my blog.