old entries
September 14, 1999
cynical
am i getting cynical? i got this email today that said:
I'll let you know more details about the info session as the time gets closer. WICS sounds like an ideal organization for CollegeHire.com to be in touch with. The majority of our client companies are looking for students with a computer science background or one that is similar.
doesn't this translate to: "my employees want women to fill their status quo and you are women who happen to program which is even better to fill quotas!!! i mean, otherwise, why not approach "dug" or the general department?
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:18 PM | TrackBack (0)
endangered thoughts
am i getting synical? i got this email today that said:
I'll let you know more details about the info session as the time gets closer. WICS sounds like an ideal organization for CollegeHire.com to be in touch with. The majority of our client companies are looking for students with a computer science background or one that is similar.
doesn't this translate to: "my employees want women to fill their status quo and you are women who happen to program which is even better to fill quotas!!! i mean, otherwise, why not approach "dug" or the general department?
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:08 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
June 17, 1999
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.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:20 PM | TrackBack (0)
May 25, 1999
like a boy?
i wonder how much i am like a boy. i am very comfortable in my body, don't get me wrong. i really feel like the body of a woman belongs to me and that i belong to it. i get annoyed at my breasts and my period but i think that is normal, not really attributing that to a hatred of my body. i get angry because it is not athletic or because my ass is too large but i don't see myself as a boy, physically.
the funny thing is that i like to envision myself as a skaterboy punkchild androgynous creature. and when i interact with men, i feel like i belong more than when i interact with women. there is a small subsection of the dyke community that i feel identifies like me, but it is peculiar. and i don't like dating femmes... i like looking at them but i don't like being masculinized like that. i like staying in androgynous land, uncertain of where i stand. and i like being able to get all girly when i want to.. this makes me happy. but i don't really see myself as fitting in as a girl, thinking like a girl.
maybe its not identifying like a guy, as much as having learned to assimilate too well and now feeling alienated from my own community. all i know is that it does make me feel aweful to not be accepted by either community and the older i get, the less i feel welcome on either side. it is peculiar, and painful, infuriating. it makes me feel so uncertain about myself as a person. i am not certain where a home exists, or how to find it. i see a sexual devide and it makes me sad, mostly because i don't feel as though i belong.
and yet, i feel as though i am being forced to belong, which is only making me more depressed and frustrated. i just want to be myself and be accepted. but isn't that the cry of most people?
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:22 PM | TrackBack (0)
December 29, 1998
i have never really understood how people manage their lives without education. when i spend three days without intense thinking, my mind aches for some types of stimulation. for the past 3 years, i have constantly stimulated my brain in one fashion - logical thought. upon reading a variety of texts the other evening, i realized that, above all else, my brain was truly craving philosophical stimulation. i genuinely miss truly and vehemently disagreeing with someone's beliefs and philosophies. mentally questioning the way things work is necessary for me to be happy. what a refreshing realization
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
December 26, 1998
future
it is one of those nites; the nites that frustrate you to the point that you question your existance in a quasi-serious manner. i know, deeper than anything, that i would never harm myself yet i contemplate that idea in my state of loss.
i know that i am not a perfect person - hell, i don't even admire myself. my temper is short, my frustration high, my demeanor depressed, my outlook hopeless. i only respect one person fully and that is because he can withstand me. others come close and i respect them with the appropriate levels. i desperately want self improvement and make an honest effort ... so long as things seem to be going ok.
the problem is - lately, nothing is going ok. as a result, i feel that as a person, i am becoming more deplorable. the frustration enters that i don't see how i can balance doing what i am _supposed_ to do and what i feel as though i _should_ do. no matter what, i always go about seeking advice in the wrong fashion and as a result, find myself in a worsened predicament. tonite was no exception.
as my grandfather noted, i have spent the last three years of my life pointed adamently in one direction. currently, i am questioning that direction for a variety of reasons. while i view those experiences and reasons in a very personalized and emotional manner, others can only view them in the way that i express the experiences and in the way that they can decipher them from their point of view. as a result, i am certain that my traumas seem petty to others, as they do to the two generations above me. i have multiple paths in which my life could follow, choices that my ancestors did not have. yet, these same choices make me horribly miserable. they don't understand my difficulty. reality is, while i am learned enough to know that they shouldn't understand, my heart wants them to. even my current pleasure book (reviving ophelia - i strongly recommend) reminds me that those older than me cannot understand my frustrations.. so why do i want them to understand me so badly?
i have never been so good at accepting my mother's disapproval and feel as though i have to justify myself until she understands; this never works.
who am i? what do i want to do? i swear these are the questions that every person my age asks but i too need to ask them. and the answers are so extremely frustratingly confused. i know i have a great deal of opportunities that those before me did not have. i know that i am lucky even for my day and age. but yet, i am picky and not being picky is against who i am and only depresses me. ok, but this is off the point. everyone but me sees all the advantages to continuing on my current path - getting a degree in something extremely marketable and desired and continuing on to work in that industry. although i am aware of the positives, the negatives terrify me. so let's list them:
advantages
- economic stability
- pleasing adults
- interesting material
- strong recommendations
disadvantages
- sexist environment
- demotivating myself
- inability to explore external opportunities
- possible lepracy syndrome
basically, in the end, it comes down to emotions versus logic. i am battling something that i can never debate - does it make more sense to do something that will protect myself and my (future) children / mother from economic despair and give myself a quality of life that i deserve? or should i prepare myself to be emotionally happy and sound with the hopes that my general eduction can lead me through and that i will be a sound and happy person. the problem is that everyone i know is too damn logical. my grandfather's role was to be the stable one, the male. my mother was forced into that role and as a result, is emotionally a mess. where does happiness reside? and why do i have to make this decision at the age of 21?
should i commit myself to the next ?5? years of misery in order to create an economically stable environment? will this completely ruin who i am emotionally? intellectually? will this ruin my only solid emotional relationship? can i afford to do this? will i risk not getting out of my $130,000 education what i could possible have done with different decisions? is it worth it?
am i capable of devoting myself to my largest frustration in life? will not doing so hurt me in the future? will working hard make me so miserable that i don't even consider working in the field post-graduation?
in the midst of all of this, i think i made a decision - take what i need to complete my degree, but nothing more. be a mediocre graduate from an exceptional school and hope to make enough money to pay off my debts and move on to what interests me the most.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:09 PM | TrackBack (0)
October 21, 1998
voices
voices spring from my head, reminding me that i am not alone. the voice of women past, strong-willed and powerful through all the torture give me strength. the voice of today's fighting women give me comfort.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:15 PM | TrackBack (0)
October 17, 1998
seasons
fresh-eyed and excited, the young girls play in the schoolyard. as i watch them mature, i cannot hold back the tears, the only sign of life present on my hardened face. to them life is nothing but fun and games; they have no responsibilities and are free to explore every curiousity they can imagine; they are invincible.
like new england, a women's life is represented by the passing of seasons. spring, the time of birth, color and excitement. everything is pure and beautiful, carefree and wonderful. there are no questions, only happiness.
next comes summer. the sun of peers and family wears hard on a young girl's morale. everything is intense and hard to bear. every part of a girl's body screams to be free of the pain and suffering. she is pure fire.
but the fire of life cannot last. soon, it is too much and autumn creeps in. all that could fight slowly starts to wither and fall away. she becomes colder and harder. her beauty and excitement fade.
by then it is too late; winter has arrived and the woman is no longer full of fire and life. everything is cold and harsh, the world is miserable. slowly, she waits to pass away, waits for her time to come because it is no longer worth the effort.
"how can we stop this progression?" i wonder as i rock in my chair. it has been so long since i have just enjoyed life and froliked with joy. if only the girls knew where they were headed... if only i had known.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:07 PM | TrackBack (0)
May 8, 1998
a saturday night
it is a saturday nite and i just entered the building others call my home. the stench ripped through my nose and nauseated my body. it is no wonder I have not eaten this week. it is the smell of the rotten bodies, growing grotesque with age and decrepit with time. i look down and my gloves are unwrapping, sign of the mummy's time spent decaying, decaying in the building for some unknown goal. it is an understanding that i seek, an understanding of myself. why, when i have so much that i could do, do i perch in this same seat as my back grows hunch and my mind dripples through my spine? all energy has been zapped from my system and the future's brightness has dimmed to the color of this room, this eternal hell.
a dash of purple, a touch of red, a dribble of black seeps through my brain. i am about to collapse from lack of nurishment but the retch of food only appalls me. i wish my body would collapse as my mind has already 10 miles down that road. an ending would be appreciated but i cannot even gather the strength to do that. it doesn't matter because nothing matters. the world is a void and i have the unfortunate luck of ending up as a part of it. i seek an alternative.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:13 PM | TrackBack (0)
geckos
i felt rather blah today. correct that. i feel rather blah today. i haven't quite figured out why though. a nice person told me that i might be depressed and i wouldn't be suprised. actually, nothing would suprise me today. it is a blah day.
when i was five, my mother told me to think of exciting things when i was blah so i envisioned kaleidoscopes of rainbows. there is something intriguing about color. it made me want to be outside and i realized the source of my problems. i am always inside, always working on what i want to work on in an environment i don't want to be a part of. damn stanford and its external modems. one day. the world will be beautiful when nothing depends on any location. i can code in the middle of the jungle, surrounded by zebras and giraffes. i hear zebras are cruel; i hope that is not true because they are cool looking. for now, i will stare at the geckos. they too are pretty; it must be the colors.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:10 PM | TrackBack (0)
May 7, 1998
traffik
disallusioned by the traffik whipping by, i put one foot on the questionably solid ground before stepping backwards in shock. so many people on their way to nowhere- a maroon sedan squeals past an old teal volkswagon bug, hoping to beat him to the stoplite. it is such a ridiculous site. to think that people do this every morning and every evening. it is no wonder that heart attacks kill more people each year. i am about to have a heart attack watching them.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
May 6, 1998
rat race
why for art thou amongst the fools trapped in the rat race? spinning in circles, direction in dream, getting closer to nothing... but faster, every moment faster. they may say that you are destined for heaven but heaven only comes after you go through levels of hell, hell unbearable and thoughts destroyed, destroyed by those who say they know better and that they have been where you are going. it is a good place, full of levels of comfort, full of happiness. but when you do not understand their happiness, why are you aiming for it in such vigor? with full heart, you head forward into the light of the already presumed, and already thought because each of us has a path to follow and follow it will will. dutifully. frustrated, you question each jump, each pace toward the inifinity of the non-existent. but you continue, trained like a rat in a maze. when you view it from above you realize the stupidity but what then? what does that prove? you are already trapped into the cycle. do not fight it; itt will cause you too much anger. accept it, find peace in it; they say life is a drug but i have found it a depressent. what is the end goal? why are you striving for this misplaced goal when you know the true goal? do yu question your goal? it is not good enough and no wone will let you have it. you must follow the pattern. frustration sets in. anger. harder. harder. why are thou in this pace? why doest thou despised me? Each enemy, each annoyeance only magnifies the way things should be, the peace you will once find. it is heaven, it is sacrifice. no other happiness...
as i wander into the thoughts of my frustration, i question my sanity. i know things are going downhill and i want so desperately to stop them from rolling but down they go. it magnifies my anger, my anger at the world for the cards i have been dealt. fairness is not life, that i know. but life depends on sanity and where is sanity in desperation. desperation crawls into your heart, into your soul, into your being and desperately pulls at everything you know and knew in an attempt to prove to you that you are not like them and never will be. they say you can catch. work and sacrifice and you too will experience their peace but no matter hat you realize your frustration and know it ain't so. they are wrong. you will never catch up and you will never live their life. so you question why you bother but they tell you never to question; accept. accept that what they say is gospel. they know all since they have all. blind and without crutch, you grasp their words, fully aware that they can only hold you, maintain you for such a short time. and when the short time is up, where do you go? you are alone in your short-lived dream of understanding, dream of security. security is born. without it, you lose. you are the minority and you are lost. it is not possible to feel the happiness that they feel.
women. why are you born in such supression? why must everyone put you down as though you do not belong? you were here; you are one with them. fuck, you birthed them but yet they rule and they determine the god and you are not it. you are lost. they say you are weaker and meekly you agree because you know nothing else. you are lost. that is who you are- a lost soul with no direction forever. you will never catch up- they will forever push you down as though you are their little sex toys and have no use to them otherwise. strong, trying to reach out in sex and you are demeaned because you are playing their game and they do not like it. their games are theirs and you cannot even dream of playing along. you are female and you must behave like it. summission. it is your destiny. strip, show your naked body, bear your soul for they will not accept you else. Let them abuse you; they will anyhow. you cannot avoid it. you are a lost soul and no one will pull you up. either they are pushing you down or they are afraid that they too will be with you.
fair? you ask if my thoughts are fair? you question my judgement and you say what i can and cannot do based upon my gender. i too am a person and i am struggling in a great deal of excess pain. they will strike you down. give them time.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:13 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
May 5, 1998
pay day
after watching the days pass in hope of finding the correct path for myself, i have discovered that i do not fit into traditional americana. i don't like 9am and my brain still works at 5. mindnumbing experiences are not worth the measly $5 at the end of the day. i would rather enjoy my days and ignore the people that keep telling me i cannot do so. everywhere i turn in society, i see another human failure followed by a societal flaw. it is rather disappointing.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:13 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
May 4, 1998
corporate
black shoes lacking scuffs. black linen socks neatly rolled. crisp newly ironed black pants synched by a black leather belt. white shirt, as crisp as the pants, evenly tucked into the pants. matching black jacket- 5 pockets and gold cuff links - looks brand new. deep maroon power tie chokes the soul of the wearer. his hair is combed and gelled in a direction that i once saw in a GQ magazine. each day, he goes to work like this, sits next to a matching individual, clocks in at 9, clocks out at 5. no comments, no questions, no thought. why do people expose themselves to such drudgery? i fell asleep thinking about it. i will always wear purple.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
May 3, 1998
clock cycles
i wandered out of my house, alone and bored. it was not unlike any other day except for the fact that it was the day after the last one. but does time really matter when you don't count it? Who created the timing scheme anyhow? 60 minutes in an hours, 24 hours in a day, 365.25 days in a year (gotta love leap year- created for mistakes). that person must have been as bored as i am now. i think the whole point of a clock is to have something to listen to when you are bored since it is so hard to hear your heartbeat from within your head.
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
February 11, 1998
outpoor
When I was born, someone should have marked on my birth certificate, "Female. Destined to be nothing. Don't encourage her for her future is bare." I would have gotten the point. Instead, everyone decided to encourage me to be the best of the best, to never let anyone get in my way or put me down. From the smile on my childhood pictures, one could tell that I listened well. I was convinced that I could do anything. I saw no roadblocks.
Slowly, my view of the world has changed. The roadblocks get larger each year and I question my hirdling skills more and more. Every step becomes more painful and the people are inherently more evil. I trust too many people and everyone wants to get in my way (as though I am a threat or something!). Tonite, I was advised to keep a note of all my hirdles for the future. Rather than starting at Day 1 (which would take a goddess forever to digest), I am going to start with college.
I guess you could call me a punk. I was so proud to enter Brown University. I could not believe that they accepted me to attend their prestigous university. I wanted to work so hard and prove to everyone that I belonged. I had always loved math and figured that computer science woudl be the best place for me. The brochures looked interesting, the woman who introduced me to the department gave me every hope in the world. It seemed like the perfect community. Everyone knew everyone else and seemed so helpful. I could not wait to be a part of that.
Knowing full well that I needed to get involved fast (I needed a job as soon as possible), I made every effort to befriend my classmates and professor. The prof seemed intimidating but I was told that he was not so bad when you got to know him. They were right. If you weren't terrified of him, he seemed human enough. In addition, his student advisee was so cool. She immediately helped me acquire a job within the computer information portion of the university (separate from computer science). I put all of my energy into my introductory course (which I loved) and into getting to know more than what they taught (UNIX and HTML were fun play-toys!). I started making appointments with the prof and we got to know each other.
Midway thru the semester, the professor decided to hire a student as an addition to his audio/visual group and I applied. By some miracle, I got that job. And that is where the problems began. I never considered that my hiring was due to my gender but apparently many members of the department spread rumors about who I was sleeping with (my sex life is far more interesting within those contexts!). Apparently, my promiscuity landed me the job. I ignored it. I figured one of them must have applied for the job and I had seen jealousy before.
It was then that I found out about "rumor," an anonymous forum used to publicly ridicule other individuals. Having always considered myself a proponent of free-speech, I brushed it off thinking that it was just immature nonsense. Nothing in my body budged when I read "I want to rape dmb." I just coped.
The following semester, I secured a position as a CS4 TA. My interview went extremely well. I was psyched about the job.. until, only hours after the announcement, a fellow classmate reminded me that I only got that job because of my gender. I was crestfallen. It didn't help that I was starting to date the HeadTA. I realized rather quickly that the comment made by my classmate was common sentiment. Throughout the semester, my achievements soared and recognition followed. I was hired for two new positions: CS15 TA and Bridge Leader for a summer program aimed at minority students. With a great deal of vigor, I began preparation.
After weeks of preparation, I found out that I would be teaching a group of 4 women and 3 men, all of whom are minorities. From our earliest meetings, we got along. On a personal front, I was having difficulties with some people in the department who felt as though I was using my boyfriend for power and that the Bridge program was a hoax. I did my best to ignore them. In addition, personal mixed with work and the result was uncomfortable.
Shortly into the program, we started teaching the students HTML. One day, when they were logged in, working on their websites, a message popped up. It said, "Get out of here while you can." Confused, I worked on tracking down the message. One my classmates owned a project that the students were using to recognize colors. Aimed at annoying myself, the program checked to see if my students were using it. If so, the message appeared. I confronted him and he removed it immediately.
Rumor had been escalating in cruelty. On the last day of my summer program, I sat down right before class only to see the following rumor appear, "I have a piece of dmb's mail." Haunted and confused, I tracked down my boyfriend. He ran all over the place and found out that I had left a printed letter from my mother in my home. Apparently, someone had seen it. Two hours later, the entire letter, complete with spelling mistakes and pine-alignment errors appeared on rumor. There was no doubt that the message appeared electronically.
I was horrified. I maintained composure as I finished the day with my students. By the time my class was over, three more letters appeared, all conversations between my mother and myself. Dazed, I went to see the one faculty member that I trusted, my advisor. Many hours were spent trying to track the information down. I realized that my knowledge of UNIX was far more extensive than I first believed. Every step made me more angry. Finally, the pressure got to me and I went home to Pennsylvania. As the week continued, the department head started a mad search and hysteria filled the department. Town meetings started and the department split into for and against. It was sick.
When I came back, those "for" me were rather supportive while the rest of the department was outright hostile. Apparently, it was my fault that the department was doing this. How frustrating! I did everything possible to make my life appear normal. I just wanted to learn.
As the year progressed, the harassment calmed down. Other people became targets, including a first year woman who only wanted to express herself. The incidents continued to disgust me. The people who harassed me are still in power and their clique is as large as ever. Graffiti still appears on the elevators and crushes me every time.
I am trying very hard to overcome this and be a person again. I am forever indebted to a group of amazing women for being tremendously supportive and reminding me that it doesn't need to be like this. I can be my own person and learn to gather strength out of every incident. They are right. I will. I need to for my own sanity. For now, I just need to express my frustration...
Category: old
Posted by zephoria at 9:12 PM | TrackBack (0)