i am trying really hard to understand why prejudice exists in the way and to the degree that it does in our culture and why we fail to understand it as a society. an individual that i know approached me the other day, asking for some advice and as i listened to his story, i understood every word that he said and i realized that we had something in common: cultural oppression. it didn’t matter why he was oppressed by the sentiments were the same, the emotions as painful and as deep and the denial greater. see, one of the ways in which we are often kept down is by others trying to minimize the importance of our differences… let me explain.

i finally came to terms with affirmative action. it is not to make up for past wrongdoings or things like that. instead, it is a recognition that, by being the underhanded in a situation, you are going to have to constantly deal with that before any work can be completed, meaning that quite often, your performance suffers. in addition, the tests for performance are based on the strengths and information of the majority, which is not you. affirmative action exists to protect you, the underrepresented, from all of the prejudices and biases and privileges that the majority have at any given point.

unfortunately, only the underprivileged even realize that and the privileged never realize the advantages that they receive, making the strife all the more painful. how to solve this? i don’t know… frankly, i have no idea. is it possible, even?

instead, i get to watch people suffer through these emotions, this feeling of confusion and frustration, uncertainty and anger. when your performance is poor and you cannot identify with anyone around you and you become angry at yourself for all of this, rather than realizing why the situation exists and trying to prove it… when you do this, you destroy your self. it is more important to make certain that you can eliminate the boundaries, break down the walls, at least for the next person.

ahh.. i feel like i am realigning with my self, with my body, with my mind. this week has been full of extreme pleasures and temptations, frustrations and mental explosions. but that is the first week of school, as normal, right? somehow i managed to forget what it is like to begin school. how could i forget?

so my body first… my body is a bit confused. it has been a week of readjustments. somehow, my face is broken out like a boy going through puberty… damn the non-pill, damn it. my chest size has gone down one cup size (need new bras). i have been bike riding (although i still damn the asswipe who stole my last bike!) and eating healthy coop food – holy shit!!! no fluff, no mt dew (ok, one glass per day) and not a lot of junk food (although i am munching for the weekend). you see, i have been choosing juice over soda and i have been carrying water with me regularly!! crazy isn’t it? also the funnies thing happened today – i woke up at 8 something in the morning without alarm clock help!

now my mind… i had the most delicious conversation with this woman about biology and neuroscience and gender and ya da ya da ya.. it lasted for 6 hours so i cannot do it justice in a paragraph. one of the most interesting things that came out of it for me was that i finally described what i thought about the biology/neuroscience – cognitive science – psychology “continuum”. what i realized is that it is like a proof structure. biologists try to “prove” things at the cellular level while psychologists try to analyze behavioural phenomena. well, the thing is that neither is right or wrong (although noone ever seems to communicate). instead, they should be trying to “prove” each others thoughts within their own discipline. there are just things that cannot be “proven” in biology while they can be observed in psychology and vice versa.. communication is KEY!

and then there is the emotional. i cannot say that i am 100% emotionally stable (what ever happened to getting off the pill = elimination of depression??? somehow, i think my body is confused…. or else i am putting too much faith on the power of drugs) i am trying to handle things but the reality is that i miss my lover tremendously. most else is ok.. but i am lonely, in that unfulfilled way, not that nobody is around way… i am just trying to get myself in the appropriate state.

so school has started and i am enjoying classes and getting things rolling – it is quite fun!!! plus, i co-adopted a kitty cat with a friend who lives with me.. it is quite fabulous to have undivided attention and love (at will mind you… this is after all a cat). we took her to the kitty doctor today and got a clean bill of health! i love having a pet again, a furry loveable feedable silly thing… so nice to have.. so nice.

last nite my housemates tried on my cat suit and we took tons of polaroid pictures! it was soo fabulous… i love my house!!!

g’nite.. well its time to go…

i want so badly to just break down but my body refuses, caught in that anguish when you feel as though just a few tears would make it all feel better… nothing feels quite right, just horrified at the ackwardness of the situation. i realized what i did not want to return to – running from my past only makes sense; and i am good at running from my past.

it is the only defense machanism that i seem to be able to handle… running, that is. it is what i understand how to do, and i know how to do it well. only space keeps me from that in this case. i cannot afford to run.

i returned this fall, intending for my future and finding my past. things done wrong, memories 2 3 and 4 there to remind me when i went wrong – and i did. only memory 1 is no longer here to protect me. i am back to memory three, living in it but partially distraught from the rest, the physical self, the actual presence. i am trying, partially through mental fantasy to come to terms with that part of me… and i am doing ok. if it wasn’t for memory four, who made memory two so abrupted and utterly recognizeably failed, forced into a gutter of pain and insensed to leave…

i am avoiding memory two and fearing failure, utter inability to create, concentrate, believe… everyone i know is from that memory and it half terrifies me to find their presence in my path. see, most are curtious if not kind, but the few who horrify me create so much pain and agony in my heart

only tonite, along with my current housemates, i went to see a member of memory two who recognized me in kindness. my first “friend” in memory two has been treating me with such kindness and closeness now that we are together in a physical space. along with a new friend, i danced and enjoyed new attempts to meet people and make new friends along with the pleasures of a pleasant environment, only it took me effort not to reach a level of cockiness that makes me uncoftable and unpleasant, distracted by a life i could have had. only i don’t. a friend from last year

afterwards, in a good mode with my new friend, we came home only for our cat to run into the street, forcing me to switch into the mood that i can barely stand – that mode of bossyness to “solve” a situation of little impotance and longevity. i felt stupid and offered mint milanos over this situation, not wanting to foul up a potential friendship. we headed to a party of people from memory three and things first appeared ok.. but then they were not. i found myself showing off regarding memory two, as though i remembered everything and forgot it all… it stung like a bee.

and then memory four stood out, shuddering my entire body into uttter pain and discomfort. i tried to first ignore and then i got the courage to actually approach her, asking how she was, only to receive the cold shudder that i had earned by visiting memory three just the other day. and it hurt. i tried to last it out until she blantantly faced her back towards me, blocking me out of her sight, reminding me that i made a mistake. only to realize that she has made me discomfortable in memory three, by something as soo simple as talking to other people, sharing her discomfort. only a short while ago in the pleasant place did i explain to my new friend that i made a mistake and that i utterly hurt person four. that stung like a harsh bee and i cringed. this made me want to leave but i ended up buying kind and aim me for home, running away once again.

now at home i just cringe and feel aweful, recognize the mistakes that i made and the things that make me realize that i made mistakes, many mistakes. and now i at home sitting by my computer which i feel guilty from using person one into purchasing..

i realized that i don’t like myself at all. i like getting to know people that i vaguely know, through people i barely know in order to make certain that when thigns go wrong i will have a way of hurting myself. that makes me cringe and scream in confusion. why do i run? why can’t i find happiness in the simple things? why does smoking seem to be my response to life, addiction, habit, frustration. and i talk to my family in a bored tone, uninterested in actually talking, feeling forced and pressured which makes me feel worse. i feel like i should realize that my family is not what i discribe them to be.

i have a fantasy world because my real world saddens me.

and that makes me feel terrible… as though i will never be capable of actually finding peace and happiness, the way i always imagined it should be. how i long to be different, in a way i can barely accept in myself. and what makes me feel worse is that i cannot determine if i am becoming everything she told me that i would be come by accident or by following the pattern of life she suggested and led me down so many years ago, as though i feel this obligation in lieu of a feeling of genuine desre. and that makes me feel like a hypocrite and horrid human being. only that was my mistake prior to this “move” in my life. i just want to be happy and i don’t know how so i repeat the same mistakes that failed before, as though i was engrained to do so.

but what can i do? i have spent my life dependent on my family until i found person one…. and then i rearranged my situation to be dependent on him the way i promise that i will never be. how i long for simplicity and honest strenght. i eat people and spit them out in the form of strength, a pure indicator of an evil person. and that i am.

oh, if only i could actually cry

back on a plane, this time at the end of burning man. what an experience, for reasons that i could barely explain, but i will try to capture an ounce of what i felt in order to have that glimpse of memory as i look back on this wonderful event…

we left san francisco on thursday, but stopped in a motel for a good nite’s sleep before finishing the trip. we were too exhausted. i learned some basic yoga (which was mighty fun). the car trip was silly… we were caravaning and i got to spend time with both my lover and the cutey boy that i have been spending time with. i also managed to play my cartrick which excited both of them (although got interupted the second time). the boy had a friend with him who was pretty damn cool and i enjoyed trying to get to know him. at one point, i decided to do a striptease from jon’s convertible (the other car was behind us) and that amused everyone…

from a distance, the camp seemed damn small and i was afraid i was going to be disappointed… but i wasn’t… it was the desert and size was skewed. there were welcoming committees and people were just generally kind and excited to see you… we aimed for where we thought that the camp should be, but failed to find it. we sent out general search parties, trying to learn where it should be but it never happened. at one point, our friend who came in via plane stumbled upon us and the two of us went and found the appropriate campsite, just before sundown… we quickly unpacked everything, put up the tents and met all of these people, all friends of the boy that my lover and i had come with. they were quite chill and slowly warmed up to us in a big way. it was so nice to meet new cool people! we ate a bit of dinner and all hung out for a while…

i don’t know what was up with me but i was acting awefully. i can’t really come up with good excuses so i won’t bother but i was acting like a spoiled brat and could barely stand it myself, but wasn’t in the mood to deal. the boy noticed. thankfully, he decided to say something to me cause he was very annoyed… and it made me realize how aweful i had been acting, more so than my own realizations of laziness and brattiness. suddenly, something that my mother had told me for years popped out – one day you will lose friends for being so selfish… i never believed her but all of a sudden i had this feeling of awefulness. this put me in a state of quite unhappiness, and he was already in that state… we all decided to wander separately and did so…

i must have seen some various tents that nite but i don’t remember many of them… i wandered around the man, into some of the art exhibits and up to some of the lighted events… but i was cold. thus, i plopped myself down at a campfire and proceeded to make friends with the guys right around me, a bunch of boys with strong strong accents from ireland. it was intense. i could barely comprehend their language. all of their idioms were different and their jokes confused me… as a result, i was intrigued. i don’t know who they were but they had a shitload of money. they were all living in san francisco, probably about my age, and had enough drugs to kill a fleet of camels. my gut was to say that they were singers for a living because they kept breaking into song and their voices were UNBELIEVABLE. anyhow, they smoked me up some and then offered me a happy pill. it was a nice feeling… we ended up wandering some, seeing different things, different fires, etc… it was nice to chill with random people but i was missing my lover desperately and still felt terrible about the situation with the boy.

i headed back to camp but noone was there. i was still freezing so i tucked myself into a sleeping bag. shortly later, the guys came back and we started talking…. i told the boy what was going through my head and he seemed genuinely thankful. anyhow, i was fuzzy and warm and somehow sexy… fun happened.

i woke the next morning to intense heat. i crawled out of the tent and chilled with the people in my campground. what beautiful people!! they were all much older than me… the camp was: 21,22,28,6x(31-34),38. i was the baby but it didn’t matter… everyone was wonderful to me. my lover’s friend from work appeared and decided to camp out with us.. she is super cool, as is her friend. we all dressed up in our gear (me in silver paint, bunny ears, a magic wand and wings) and started to wander… people took picture after picture of me which was CRAZY! the artwork that people did was majestical! everything made me feel so tremendous. i can barely explain it… i highly encourage the reader to check out the burning man website in order to see some of what was at this event, artwise… it is just not explainable except to say that it is beautiful!!!

somehow, during the day, people taught me how to play “go” and we hung out at our campsite… we also toured tactile exhibits and sat as the wind flowed through our hair… we watched a battle of people on swings and watched the boy give away elements of his scroll (he was wrapped like a mummy with bits of scroll)… it was just fabulous!!! i also got to try ghb which was quite interesting and chill

i loved being naked and only got dressed for coldness!!!!!

as the nite began, we all decided that pills were in order and prepared for the actual burn. the burn is where they do a bunch of ritualistic events and then an older woman (from the beginning) goes and ceremonially lights the man on fire… as we proceeded to the event, we all started cuddling with one another. so many of the group was trying this beauty for the first time and was ecstatic about the feelings they got… we touched and cuddled, loved and kissed.. my lover got picked up by a girl and the flirting was intense. we fought with the crowd over whether to stand up or sit down and did both at times. finally, promenading began and things started going up in flames. there were fireworks and firedancers. but things didn’t go exactly right. about 40 minutes ahead of time, the throat of the man caught fire and went up in flames (his base is supposed to start). the fireworks (which were to be last) came out and the magnesium never really caught fire. an arm fell off so they couldn’t raise th arms. the procession never made it to the man and the balls surrounding the area went off late. it was strange, but i had no complaints.. i still thought it was cool. the people rushed the man and the fire folk had to make certain that noone was too close to the fires that were happening, particularly the elements that hadn’t fallen yet. still, i loved it. unfortunately, when everyone rushed the man, we lost part of our party and thus people were bummed… it was sad but everyone was fine, just not with us. we proceeded to various other things, got to watch a person interact with a tesla coil (wow!!!) and went to a chill space. a couple of folk decided it was mushroom time and i decided that bed was a better answer so my lover and i wandered off to cuddle… he was super tired from a full day. teheh.

in the middle of the nite, the boy came back, all excited about his trip and in a foggy state, i listened to his exciting stories. i don’t know exactly how what happened, but i ended up dozing back to sleep.

i woke to more intense heat, hotter than the day before. but that did not stop the three of us from having another go at it and me from getting broken… more chilling with the group and then eventual wandering to see various sites. i was still naked!!! i was just ecstatic to talk to fabulous people and did so quite willingly.

my lover and i decided that we wanted to spend some time together so we wanted to leave relatively early. we finally managed to get everything together by around 5/6pm.. much later than we wanted… unfortunately, we didn’t get out of the parking lot until 8pm and didn’t arrive back at home until after 4am.. 🙁 the ride was fun, even with this shit. the friend that came via plane joined us in the ride back and the three of us amused each other with stories, sex talk and deliriousness. plus, i got to eat at denny’s!!!

finally, we got home and i took a long awaited shower and fell into bed. four hours later, i was awoken and pushed onto a plane, where i currently sit. tomorrow classes start and i am not prepared, but the intensity and beauty of burning man makes up for any nervous feelings i have. i am so glad that i decided to go and so sorry that i cannot express the emotional element of what i experienced…

things to bring next year:

chapstick with uv (lots)
blowup mattress
camel water pack
full goggles (for the wind)
kiddie pool and sponges

haven’t slept. again.

about to get on a flight – heading out for burning man! it should be a mighty fun experience. i look forward to seeing my lovers and having mad sex. that is the advantage of this trip… i was promised unlimited orgasms… i look forward to experiencing that!

is it fair of me to be upset that i, as a female am an _object_ of man’s desire? i went to my hometown this week and spent the entire time being reminded that i have a vagina. “hey baby” and “what a cute little girl” and “come home with me” and other types of requests for pleasure came out of men’s mouths. they have been taught that women “appreciate” this type of attitude, because it is a compliment. they are never told that it is degrading or frustrating. i get furious and upset but everyone around me tells me i am crazy for being bothered by this, that i should take it as a compliment and that most women would love that attention. i find myself aiming to look more ridiculous and unappealing to the opposite sex. i don’t want to be an object; i just want to live my life as any other human, or should i say as the dominant male culture is permitted. i don’t want to “deserve” to be raped based on my appearance; i don’t want to be hit on by gas attendents, i just want to get my gas.

the thing that bothers me most is that other women don’t seem to feel the same way. they _want_ to be hit on by men at any given point; they want to be distracted by men’s dumb come-ons. and thus, it continues in our culture and I am the one blamed, because i complain that this isn’t right. i am just confused…

i am trying really hard to get back in the mindset to write those stupid graduate school applications and in order to start thinking about it, i started thinking about how i learned to love a computer… but then i realized that i hate them, still… anyhow, this was the rambling that ended up coming out. now, it is _not_ going to be used in my application but it sure is funny to read… tehehe.

How I Learned to Love the Computer, and Then Return to Hating It.

As a child, I despised computers. I saw them as objects that took up time in a non-social and boring manner. Either you played games on them or you wrote papers. There seemed to be no other point to having a computer, so I pretended that the computer did not exist.

I could not avoid the computer for very long. Schools started requiring you to type papers, either on a typewriter or a computer, and the computer was easier. But it was middle school that forced me to use the computer. Lego Logo. Our entire class was taught how to make this “turtle” move on a piece of paper in the middle of a class using simple commands that we inputted into the computer. Knowing how much I loved math, the teacher tried to motivate me by showing me how I could display interesting mathematical concepts using these simple inputs. I made my own fractals and found interesting ways to do animations. Suddenly, something about computers interested me! But that class ended and we were back to games and typing and I was bored. I even cheated on my typing-skills test, promising myself that I would never learn to type “right”.

At home, my brother adored the computer and my mother purchased one to amuse him. He loved the games and he collected electronic toys that interacted with the computer. I continued to ignore this “revolution.” At one point, my mother agreed to pay $29.95 per month for him to have an 8600 baud connection to “the Internet” for 12 hours per week. I don’t remember how I learned that this meant a connection to other people, but I did. Suddenly, computers had a new meaning to me, once again. Computers did not have to take away one’s community or eliminate socialization; instead, computers could allow you to have an enhanced way of communicating with other people, through space and time. That is when my addiction started. Every night, I jumped on to various chatrooms and irc channels and emailed random strangers in an attempt to make new friends. My school friends started joining me and we had deeper conversations than we had ever had in real space. The computer allowed me to actually share emotions and feelings with other people in a healthy manner. It allowed me to connect to people like me as well as those who weren’t. At this point, my addiction started because the computer had a purpose.

Although the computer allowed me to connect to people, I realized pretty quickly that what existed was pretty underdeveloped and non-stable. But, in my mind, it was a damn good start. In college, I decided to major in computer science, to further this newfound interest. My first class in computer science captured my attention, as I learned to make the computer allow for interaction between the user and the computer. This made me realize how much control I had over what it displayed me and I fell in love with the discipline and the way of thinking. No longer was I motivated to study mathematics; instead, I wanted to make the computer do things that could never be done before. I took more and more computing classes.

Unfortunately, the followup courses were not similar to the introductory course. While the introductory course focused on ways of thinking and ways of interacting with the system, the following courses focused on elements of the computer – how it worked (machine level, assembly), how to design programs for it and make them efficient (data structures, operating systems, graphics), what the theory behind the machine is, etc. This bored me to tears!

I realized that it was not the machine that I loved, but rather the possibilities that the computer acknowledged. I wanted to be a part of the group who made technology further our potential as humans, further our connections with one another and study the ways in which we, as people, think. The computer is a tool and it has offered us a future; it has given us a new way of thinking. Now, I want to move beyond those basics and allow for the technology to not be a separate thing but an ingrained, ubiquitous element of our daily culture, there to help us reach our full potential.

still at home, trying to relax and chill but my family is as neurotic as ever.. which is also super fun. i finally talked with my mom about who i sleep with and the fact that they aren’t all the same sex. her response was that nothing surprises her anymore. we also talked about drugs and she was less than thrilled that i had tried lsd, as she remembers in her days of teaching handicapped children that not all the children of the 60’s came out ok… she worries for whatever genetic changes are possible. that i understand… maybe i should stop doing acid… but i did get to smoke last nite which as sweet (and relaxing). mom and i talked for a long while and she kept making me laugh with silly stories… sometimes, it is super fun to be home.

i also went to visit my old high school and elementary school (since my brother is now working in the school district. it was quite disturbing. i had flashbacks of the 5th grade when i acted in cinerella as the queen… walking down those hallways was strange. i also found the room of mrs. h, who i helped to drive insane… she went away on mental leave when i was in 4th grade. i tracked down former teachers (gosh, i forgot how gay-acting all the men in elementary schools are…. i truly wonder if they are gay and just don’t know it or do and won’t admit it). it was strange to hear astronomy lessons coming out of the astronomy room, since the previous teacher had been convicted of molesting little boys… most of the teachers i knew have since retired but my favorite is still there…. i stopped by to give him a copy of “horace’s compromise” by ted sizer. i am psyched to hear his response… he is such a sweetie! gotta love that one teacher..

ok.. i am going to motivate to work!