Monthly Archives: June 1999

silly ole me never learns. i knew i would hate austin powers 2 and yet, like a dumbass, i agreed to see it. we saw it in one of those big indoor ritzy malls – the ones where people dress up to go to them. this did not help my mood. there were pretty fountains in the mall, as people walked between banana republic and tiffany’s to get the perfect outfit. i rolled my eyes in disgust. they stared at me in return. apparently, i don’t look like i belong there. figures.

anyhow, back to austin. mainstream movies have gotten unbearable these days. eek!!! this movie, its humor, was entirely based on gross-out. the whole point was to disgust the audience. and for some reason, this humors people!!! one character, “fat bastard”, was entiredly for the purpose of gross-out. why?? why??? blech. what was i thinking. i paid $8 to watch mainstream audiences be humored by filth while the guy behind me kicked me and i had to pee standing up because the bathroom was so filthy. and then, i couldn’t even get toilet paper to wipe myself. and that is lame next to the shit i had to watch on the screen!

art is such a wonderful thing! a good friend came over for the evening to work on her model for her summer class. we watched random movies and did art all evening. she worked on her model while i scultped random comic characters with “sculpt and bake” shit. also, i learned to paint with acryllic on a canvas and i made an itsy model of a computer (for this, i got mocked by my dear ole friend who loves to make fun of me.) ahh.. i feel so much more relaxed by this. art is such a good thing, such a wonderfully good thing.

i love my brother.

he is just so adorable and so precious and it is so much fun to watch him grow. ahh.. i just spent a nite with him, in the woods, appreciating how much i love him. he is just so cute!!

i have been so angry this week. i don’t quite know how to manage it. i didn’t want to write it up on my diary because i was afraid of thinking about what made me angry, letting the frustration flow onto paper, making it a document for my anger and frustration, a way of revealing to the world why i am so pissed. but, yet, i had to. i have tried other “positive outlets” this week but to no avail. i don’t know how to get advice on this and yet everyone tells me to go to a shrink, the last possible thing i would even consider doing. there is nothing i hate more than dealing with shrinks all the time. they drive me insane. literally.

so what is it? what is driving me nuts? it is quite simple – feeling powerless. i hate that feeling – knowing, truly, in my heart that something is inherently wrong and not being able to do anything to fix it. this drives me bezonkers. i cannot cope with this. i want to fix it, i want to fix the problem in our society, and yet i am powerless to do so.

sex is complicated. this was another lesson that everyone keeps trying to shove down my throat. frankly, i don’t think sex is that complicated but that society keeps telling us that it is so if we don’t make it complicated for ourselves, someone else will just to continue that attitude. what a pain in the ass.

well, as we know (thanks to foucault who i currently want to kill.. except that he is already dead)… anyhow, thanks to foucault, we know that power is a part of every relationship and every interaction, including mine. well, that is nice but what the fuck does it mean? does it mean that someone else can describe the power that they believe should exist in that relationship, regardless of the actual power relations that we have forged? does it mean that power relations can be stereotypes and labeled, just like that which they are describing? does it mean that a book can tell me how my relationships are managed because “that’s the way it always is”?

i know i know.. i am being damn ass vague (although i am certain that those who are reading this and actually know me understand every gripe that is not said but seethes from between the lines). unfortunately, i have this uncomforable feeling about talking about it.. talking about it seems like validifying it and i cannot. how can i put words to a situation where the words were created by the opressors? how can i define something in a way that is appropriate when what is appropriate can only be measured in emotions? why must these complications exist?

all i know is that i have once again been reminded of what true anger is.

remember how i told you about flirting with a waitress in a bar, being a punk with my cousin? well, the chick remembers me. you see, i was sitting in a public space in the big city that i am currently living in, reading the recent copy of ms. magazine (an aweful article about how men in india are using acid to burn faces of women who “wrong them” by not marrying them or letting them have second wives)…. anyhow, i was reading and she comes up to me. “remember me?” she asked. of course i remembered her. i grinned, half out of embarrassment for being completely sober and running into the woman that i flirted with in a drunken stupor and half for the fact that she remembered me.

i laughed for the rest of the nite.

later that evening, after mexican, 2 of my friends and i went to a local urban outfitters and purchased this book called all about me and wrote for 70 pages all the details about ourselves, from what we look for in a friend to our past to our dreams, to whether we prefer hot or cold. it was quite cute, although my one friend was less than appreciative because she said it reminded her of all of her faults.. that was sad.

i am having severe motivational issues. it is extremely dumb too. there is no reason for me not to be motivated but the main problem is that it is picky motivational issues. like, i am highly motivated to finish my project and to do the thinking.. i am just currently anti-implimentation. i really have no desire to actuall do it.. just to think about it. erg. this is not helping my productivity. i am awefully curious what is causing this because i am not quite sure.

to make matters worse, it is not just about my work or what society would call my work, but it is about everything. for example, sex. i am highly motivated to talk about and think about sex.. but i am really not in the mood to have any. me! this is me we are talking about. somehow, i am not motivated to have sex?!?!?! this is a problem (ask my lover who will say it is a BIG problem). i feel badly about this whole situation.. i want to figure out where my head is if it is not in real space.. just in theoretical space. very peculiar.

at least i am writing…

ah! last nite was so american raver nite. at 10 pm, jon and i met in a parking lot with a ton of other people to learn where the secret location of the party would be. once we got it, we started a caravan of cars out to the parking lot. there, we took a smaller shuttle of people to the edge of a road where they dropped us off and we ran into the woods. unfortunately, this was the wrong place and we ended up jumping back into the car and heading out for the “correct” place. all commando style of course. no talking, minimum headlights, etc. then, when dropped off at the correct place, we raced into the woods where “ninjas” picked us up with glow sticks and took us on a 1/4 mile hike through the woods to the sand dunes where the party was to be held. mind you, the location was determined by a satellite picture of the area, so we were pretty damn far away from civilization. frankly, i didn’t realize that this section of the country had such sand dunes, but sure enough!

it was so wonderful to be at an outdoor rave with so many friends and people that i know. blacklights, glow sticks, djs, drums… wonderful. noone was able to get drugs for the party so it was pretty dry. i danced, and chilled and talked with people all nite. most of my nite was actually spent with a friend who has graduated. he was one of those people in my years at school that gives me a chill vibe ALWAYS. anyhow, for the first time, we actually sat down and talked … all nite. that was super cool!

morning reached and i couldn’t bare to stay up any longer so i went to the dorm room of a friend and begged her to let me take a shower and sleep. she laughed and let me in. i crashed all day in her room while my companion went off chasing girls and watching movies. it was exciting and playful!

i am starting to make sense of what i am feelings… of course, starting is the key word in th3 sentence.

one of the weirdest things has happened to me over the last couple of months. i met these two people when studying abroad and they really fucked with my mind.

before going abroad, i used to always think that i just thought in a “weird” fashion and would never find others who thought like me. before going abroad, i went through all of my interests and desires and attempted to come up with the associated label for each element of me by which others might identify. then, once i thought that i had a term by which people are categorized, i attempted to find others who also identified under that term. in this way, i tried to find a “community” of others who thought like me. i sought out geeks/nerds, women/womyn/feminists, lesbians/bisexuals/queers, punks, deadheads, ravers, cyber-fiends, goths, preps, hippies, literary folk, christians (the loving thing…), buddhists, intellectuals, etc. this did not get me very far. many of these people were cool and often we had something or another in common. but, they were not my community. they did not fulfil my needs, mentally and emotionally. i continued to walk around devoid, lonely and frustrated

see, the core of me never identified with these people. in particular, my sex and sexual identifications. it is as though all of the communities thrived on these binaries, these definitions. queerness rarely implied fluidity and all of the communities were about adopting a definition of oneself and being proud of it. unfortunately, their definitions were frequently as destructive to those who were not included as they were benefitial to those finally included in someth ing. frankly, i just wanted to find a place to feel included.

i never really looked into groups whose identifications didn’t match mine. this was not intentional (well, in some cases – such as the muslims – it was) but rather out of a lack of time and energy. you see, each time i found a new group to explore, i put my heart and soul into it. i tried to do everything they were doing so that i fit in visably so that i could see if they were right from me. my appearance changed constantly but i was never really comfortable. it was getting to such a degree of frustration that i had given up completely. my wardrobe became standard and i stopped dressing to please. i began the constant appearance of overalls and white t-shirts with a few exceptions depending on my mood . i stopped doing my hair except when i was bored and curious. hell, i shaved it outta annoyance. at first, being abroad was frustrating. although i had a similar identity to the people i was with, we really never clicked. and then i met these two people who really changed my reality.

the two i met sorta identified as queer, sorta identified as trans, sorta sorta sorta. neither really felt entirely at home with any group they were often portrayed to be a part of. but i wasn’t getting to know them in a group setting. they were my friends, individually primarily. neither had chosen paths of life similar to my own, yet somehow they seemed to understand me and i them. we didn’t have all that much in common, yet we thought alike on so many levels. it really boggled my mind and fucked with me head to foot. even as i sit here writing this, i don’t really know how i connected with them but somehow i did. unfortunately, i was there temporarily and i am back to my haunch in the states, feel ing a bit lonely and sad. only now i know that my community exists out t here somewhere, only scattered all apart and with no clear cut indentity. i just hope to find more people who think like me.

the one thing i know through all this is that sex/gender “crap” (for a lack of a better expression) is really what most people don’t see eye-to-eye with me. i don’t identify as trans because i am not trying to be something i am not nor am i trying to transcend anything. i just don’t think much of it. i like my body and i like giving it pleasure. i like certain touches and textures, pressure s and caresses. i like doing certain things to people, partially dependent on t heir own desires and pleasures, and partially on mine. i like thinking and dressing, acting and thinking the way i do. i don’t really want to put it into a box nor do i want to box people with whom i am sharing pleasure. frankly, i just want to be left alone. left alone by society and his expectations and binaries. (i mean, if society was really an it, do you really think it would have such expectations of us??) why does it matter who shares a bed with me or how i dress when i am going to work? i mean, as long as pleasure is shared and work gets done, what else matters?? it just seems outright dumb to me.

sure, some people share those general feelings as part of a group… but they don’t really live it. the two i met abroad… they really got it and damn did i enjoy their company.

community

i am starting to make sense of what i am feelings… of course, starting is the key word in tha sentence.

one of the weirdest things has happened to me over the last couple of months. i met these two people when studying abroad and they really fucked with my mind.

before going abroad, i used to always think that i just thought in a “weird” fashion and would never find others who thought like me. before going abroad, i went through all of my interests and desires and attempted to come up with the associated label for each element of me by which others might identify. then, once i thought that i had a term by which people are categorized, i attempted to find others who also identified under that term. in this way, i tried to find a “community” of others who thought like me. i sought out geeks/nerds, women/womyn/feminists, lesbians/bisexuals/queers, punks, deadheads, ravers, cyber-fiends, goths, preps, hippies, literary folk, christians (the loving thing…), buddhists, intellectuals, etc. this did not get me very far. many of these people were cool and often we had something or another in common. but, they were not my community. they did not fulfil my needs, mentally and emotionally. i continued to walk around devoid, lonely and frustrated

see, the core of me never identified with these people. in particular, my sex and sexual identifications. it is as though all of the communities thrived on these binaries, these definitions. queerness rarely implied fluidity and all of the communities were about adopting a definition of oneself and being proud of it. unfortunately, their definitions were frequently as destructive to those who were not included as they were benefitial to those finally included in something. frankly, i just wanted to find a place to feel included.

i never really looked into groups whose identifications didn’t match mine. this was not intentional (well, in some cases – such as the muslims – it was) but rather out of a lack of time and energy. you see, each time i found a new group to explore, i put my heart and soul into it. i tried to do everything they were doing so that i fit in visably so that i could see if they were right from me. my appearance changed constantly but i was never really comfortable. it was getting to such a degree of frustration that i had given up completely. my wardrobe became standard and i stopped dressing to please. i began the constant appearance of overalls and white t-shirts with a few exceptions depending on my mood. i stopped doing my hair except when i was bored and curious. hell, i shaved it outta annoyance. at first, being abroad was frustrating. although i had a similar identity to the people i was with, we really never clicked. and then i met these two people who really changed my reality.

the two i met sorta identified as queer, sorta identified as trans, sorta sorta sorta. neither really felt entirely at home with any group they were often portrayed to be a part of. but i wasn’t getting to know them in a group setting. they were my friends, individually primarily. neither had chosen paths of life similar to my own, yet somehow they seemed to understand me and i them. we didn’t have all that much in common, yet we thought alike on so many levels. it really boggled my mind and fucked with me head to foot. even as i sit here writing this, i don’t really know how i connected with them but somehow i did. unfortunately, i was there temporarily and i am back to my haunch in the states, feeling a bit lonely and sad. only now i know that my community exists out there somewhere, only scattered all apart and with no clear cut indentity. i just hope to find more people who think like me.

the one thing i know through all this is that sex/gender “crap” (for a lack of a better expression) is really what most people don’t see eye-to-eye with me. i don’t identify as trans because i am not trying to be something i am not nor am i trying to transcend anything. i just don’t think much of it. i like my body and i like giving it pleasure. i like certain touches and textures, pressures and caresses. i like doing certain things to people, partially dependent on their own desires and pleasures, and partially on mine. i like thinking and dressing, acting and thinking the way i do. i don’t really want to put it into a box nor do i want to box people with whom i am sharing pleasure. frankly, i just want to be left alone. left alone by society and his expectations and binaries. (i mean, if society was really an it, do you really think it would have such expectations of us??) why does it matter who shares a bed with me or how i dress when i am going to work? i mean, as long as pleasure is shared and work gets done, what else matters?? it just seems outright dumb to me.

sure, some people share those general feelings as part of a group… but they don’t really live it. the two i met abroad… they really got it and damn did i enjoy their company.

WAH! i am so frustrated and annoyed so i am gonna rant to you, my little text shell that peeks me into the great outdoors of the world wide web. pissy, i tell you, outright fucking pissy. it is 1999. you would think that the simplest basicest things in computing would be figured out, no? like why the hell can’t someone create real gui library that lets me create simple things. and how difficult is it to blend 2D and 3D??? not to say that i am willing to do that but i would like someone else to get their ass in gear and create what i need to program the simplest cutest little applications.

but no, it is not that simple. for the last 10 hours, i have been staring at this monitor – mind you, it was done by someone using these shitty-ass gui packages…. i want pick and pull guis and simple things like that. grumble. bitch. whine. pissy. pissy, i tell you. i just want to take my idea and get it implemented. POW! like that.. just done. snap of the fingers. instead, i have to waste hours and hours dealing with crap, not thinking, letting my carpal-tunneled wrists get annoyed because noone has gotten together and made a real library. computing is going nowhere.