for dating:
1) have a healthy social life
2) be able to look after your own emotions
3) still want to date a given person under these circumstances
You want a different kind of partner for comfort, or for a crutch, than you would if trying to build something amazing. Even if the person might be the same, the relationship would be different.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
dress
Years after giving it away, I found the remnants of my baptism dress. It was on the floor at my sister's house, threadbare and faded from yet another life as a hand-me-down, cracker crumbs embedded in the hem and old banana ground into one sleeve. I picked it up, and when she said it was headed to DI anyway, carried it home, where it's now been sitting unwashed on the corner of the unused desk in my living room for months.
The thought that I might want to pass this down to my own daughter someday didn't survive my high school minimalism, but seeing the dress return like a ghost has given it weird significance. Not just an object, it represents a mental place, and an event for which I was supposed to be innocent and pure and old enough to make my own decisions. I keep it now because it records the size of my body when I was eight. I wanted it to say I was small and helpless, but it doesn't; it agrees with my medical records, 90th to 98th percentile hight and weight all though elementary.
The breakthrough would be: to believe it doesn't matter that I was big and strong for an eight year old. To believe it doesn't matter that I had already learned way-too-much (but not enough) about sex, or that I had a terrible, violent temper. To believe that regardless of all this, keeping me safe and teaching me how to deal with those parts of myself was someone else's job and not just a massive problem for me to fight alone.
The thought that I might want to pass this down to my own daughter someday didn't survive my high school minimalism, but seeing the dress return like a ghost has given it weird significance. Not just an object, it represents a mental place, and an event for which I was supposed to be innocent and pure and old enough to make my own decisions. I keep it now because it records the size of my body when I was eight. I wanted it to say I was small and helpless, but it doesn't; it agrees with my medical records, 90th to 98th percentile hight and weight all though elementary.
The breakthrough would be: to believe it doesn't matter that I was big and strong for an eight year old. To believe it doesn't matter that I had already learned way-too-much (but not enough) about sex, or that I had a terrible, violent temper. To believe that regardless of all this, keeping me safe and teaching me how to deal with those parts of myself was someone else's job and not just a massive problem for me to fight alone.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
inventions
"Did you ever spend time in other places that had a different. . . vibe? Maybe a friend's house?"
I snort. Of course there were places that were different from home; a montage of memories presents itself. First grade teacher at my school, too much eye contact, voice anxious and tense: "I saw you walking to school this morning--you seemed. . . upset. Didn't seem to know which way to go. And I saw your father and your sister in the car, following behind."
My best friend Ashley's house when I was six, where everything was magical and spotless and clean; she had a collector's edition ice-skater Barbie that she wasn't even allowed to touch, except on special occasions. I was allowed to touch it too on those rare days, until she stopped talking to me.
"Of course," I said. "but that didn't mean I belonged there."
"So you never felt like you belonged."
Reflective listening at its finest. "No. I mean, occasionally there would be something--"
"But not very often. Those were pretty few and far between."
"Yes."
"And you've never really gotten to a point where you felt like you belonged."
This is a forgone conclusion. We are covering unrecoverable ground; it's a battle I've given up long since, and it's time to stop and work on something that might imaginably change. Even strangers say it, "You're really one of a kind, aren't you!," clasping one hand around my back and applauding some half-accidental feat. At these moments all I can do is smile awkwardly and nod, hoping the gesture reeks more of sarcasm than desperation. They have no idea at all why I've done what I've done, but they can tell I'm not like anybody else.
"I want you to think about this: what if that isn't true? What if it's just a lie your parents told you?"
I want to argue. At a certain point, if it was my parents telling me that lie, then the lie has to be true. It becomes true, a triumph of developmental psychology; if you never learn how to belong, you never will belong.
"But belonging is a social construct," I say. I don't think I've been making this up, and if she makes me abandon it that means I'll have to go out among other people without my cultivated and entirely false indifference.
"Just think about it."
I have a picture, recently obtained, of me as red riding hood and the wolf. She's blond ringlets and pale red lips, a cunning and aggressive seductress of four, perhaps five or six, no more than ten. Always looking older than her age, never old enough. Supernaturally strong and fast, not immortal but still delicate. An expert at social manipulation with no conscience, sharp miniature canines, and thousands of terrifying hungers. Like the wolf, she is perfectly turned out, finest clothes, perfect manners. She's restrained by practicality and a certain civilized manner that saves her from detection till it's too late, but there's something wild and insensibly vicious beneath. At odd moments, innocence and brutality shine through the corners of her eyes. She loves to run and to hunt; she is at best temporarily contained.
When we were sixteen, she singled out a loner and seduced him away from the herd until he fell in love. Then she invited him into the woods and ran him down patiently, like a wounded deer, before ripping his heart out with her teeth.
Much of my life since I was four or five or six has been devoted to containing this. . . keeping wolf in check, or with no likelihood of success, seeking bare redemption for her sins. And at every cost, trying not to let myself become her. How much is she even real, and how much a lie told by adults for whom reality was inconvenient?
I snort. Of course there were places that were different from home; a montage of memories presents itself. First grade teacher at my school, too much eye contact, voice anxious and tense: "I saw you walking to school this morning--you seemed. . . upset. Didn't seem to know which way to go. And I saw your father and your sister in the car, following behind."
My best friend Ashley's house when I was six, where everything was magical and spotless and clean; she had a collector's edition ice-skater Barbie that she wasn't even allowed to touch, except on special occasions. I was allowed to touch it too on those rare days, until she stopped talking to me.
"Of course," I said. "but that didn't mean I belonged there."
"So you never felt like you belonged."
Reflective listening at its finest. "No. I mean, occasionally there would be something--"
"But not very often. Those were pretty few and far between."
"Yes."
"And you've never really gotten to a point where you felt like you belonged."
This is a forgone conclusion. We are covering unrecoverable ground; it's a battle I've given up long since, and it's time to stop and work on something that might imaginably change. Even strangers say it, "You're really one of a kind, aren't you!," clasping one hand around my back and applauding some half-accidental feat. At these moments all I can do is smile awkwardly and nod, hoping the gesture reeks more of sarcasm than desperation. They have no idea at all why I've done what I've done, but they can tell I'm not like anybody else.
"I want you to think about this: what if that isn't true? What if it's just a lie your parents told you?"
I want to argue. At a certain point, if it was my parents telling me that lie, then the lie has to be true. It becomes true, a triumph of developmental psychology; if you never learn how to belong, you never will belong.
"But belonging is a social construct," I say. I don't think I've been making this up, and if she makes me abandon it that means I'll have to go out among other people without my cultivated and entirely false indifference.
"Just think about it."
I have a picture, recently obtained, of me as red riding hood and the wolf. She's blond ringlets and pale red lips, a cunning and aggressive seductress of four, perhaps five or six, no more than ten. Always looking older than her age, never old enough. Supernaturally strong and fast, not immortal but still delicate. An expert at social manipulation with no conscience, sharp miniature canines, and thousands of terrifying hungers. Like the wolf, she is perfectly turned out, finest clothes, perfect manners. She's restrained by practicality and a certain civilized manner that saves her from detection till it's too late, but there's something wild and insensibly vicious beneath. At odd moments, innocence and brutality shine through the corners of her eyes. She loves to run and to hunt; she is at best temporarily contained.
When we were sixteen, she singled out a loner and seduced him away from the herd until he fell in love. Then she invited him into the woods and ran him down patiently, like a wounded deer, before ripping his heart out with her teeth.
Much of my life since I was four or five or six has been devoted to containing this. . . keeping wolf in check, or with no likelihood of success, seeking bare redemption for her sins. And at every cost, trying not to let myself become her. How much is she even real, and how much a lie told by adults for whom reality was inconvenient?
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Why I moved in to a camping trailer
I have to say, for a business letter it's not bad. Primarily worth reading if you're interested in the sad state of tenant's rights.
Monday, 17 September
Dear Harmon Property Management,
Thank you for your notice of 12 September.
I have engaged in the ritual burning of sage once in the apartment, on moving in, as befits a cleansing ritual to a new space. It is impossible that what you found in the sink was ash. It seems likely to me that what was found was potting soil, as I use that sink to water my plants. I appreciate the management's concern for the resident's welfare.
Smudging, in violation of neither the lease nor the house rules,* involves burning bundled, ritually blessed herbs in controlled circumstances similar to the safe burning of incense. As the risks are similar to incense burning- which is not against fire code- I had no reason to believe that engaging in this ritual posed a significant hazard to anyone. If it is against fire code, I offer sincere apologies for the risk to people and property, and shall not smudge again (as I probably would have for Samhain) outside the fireplace.
As for the smoke detector, I too have noticed its absence, and would greatly appreciate its return--as per my move in checklist.
I request that the management provide me a read and signed copy of my move in checklist, which I returned in a timely manner on the 15th of August in accordance with the instruction given me.**
I have never wanted to stop Harman Property Management from finding someone else to live in bedroom B and split the utilities with us. The "nasty note" I placed on the bedroom door is a Gandhi quote, reading, "in the past we have had the options of violence and nonviolence; now we have the options of nonviolence and nonexistence." For literate readers it refers to nuclear proliferation, having nothing to do with the rental of the room or not. Though placing it on the door of a private room not rented to me was unwise, the outward facing side of the door constituted, aesthetically, public space. As neither the contract nor the house rules make reference to decoration of public space, I naturally assumed within reason this would be left to the discretion of residents. I repeatedly checked with the other residents about my use of public space, and received no notice from the management about wall hangings before it was removed. Once more, I request it returned.
The "nasty note" on the bathroom mirror merely requested that prospective tenants make the residents aware of their visits. It has caused significant emotional stress to the residents to have management in their home so constantly without proper notice, and for the management to make such strange and frequent demands, obviously based upon visits they had made without proper notice when the residents were not there.
Because this would have been more acceptable had the management been troubling themselves to maintain the residence, the note also referenced the most inconvenient of the unsatisfactory conditions, the plumbing/ hot water situation, and was posted next to copies of the work order forms previously submitted. It was to make an honest disclosure of the true condition of the property, and to convince the management to improve the condition of the property, as there are many problems that would not be perspicuous to one who has not lived there. The exact text and location of the note has been documented and is available upon request.
The only thing I have threatened anyone with is legal action. This is not grounds for eviction.
The bookshelf and plants in the hallway were not against contract, house rules, or fire code. Upon being asked to move the bookshelf, I filed a work order within days to have it moved to a location more suitable to the management's liking. Despite that it was instead moved to a location that blocks my access to furniture in my bedroom, that I can't move it anywhere myself for fear of further injuring my back, and that none of the other residents object to the bookshelf's original position in the hallway, I have kept nothing in the hallway since the bookshelf was moved except for the remaining wall hangings, which were not mentioned in the notice.
The objects I stored in the bathroom have all been grooming related. If the management wishes to limit the resident's right to store their hygiene objects in their bathrooms, this should be stated in the house rules, and in a more specific way than "the bathrooms are not to be used for storage" unless the residents are not to be permitted to keep anything in their bathrooms at all.
While there is nothing absurd or disturbing about a resident's right to a reasonably maintained property and the quiet enjoyment of the space they've paid for, I sincerely regret that your business experience leads you to believe otherwise. Neither should the ancient rituals of my faith, practiced safely and legally in my home, provoke such epithets. If you are uncomfortable with smudging as a religious practice, you should have said so earlier and should say so now directly, rather than resorting to disparagements such as “absurd” and “disturbing”. It is illegal to discriminate in provision of an open market rental on religious grounds, but reasonable people can often accommodate each other without having to resort to legal gotchas.
If there is any other way in which the management believes I am in violation of the lease, I here request that they please notify me so that I may comply.
Here also I request that the management respond to my correspondence to them dated September 12, an additional copy of which is attached.
(me)
P. S. In all future correspondence, please use correct names. At a minimum, that should include both the proper legal name and DBA, if any, of your business unit, the name of the responsible property manager with his or her license number, and the names and addresses of the landlords of this property. The Utah Department of Commerce appears to be unaware of any such entity as Harman Property Management.
* The office staff employed by Harmon Property Management would do well to take care that they do not falsely present the nature or existence of the house rules, and that they actually present them with the contract before signing; it seems this has been a problem on a number occasions in the past, and could create great inconvenience to all involved should this carelessness continue. They may also take into consideration a policy of conducting themselves with courtesy and respect towards the residents and any others they may encounter in a business setting.
**This should be accompanied by the addendum to the move in check list which I was given permission to make (and which I obtained a copy of at that time) that was turned in on the 16th of August, when I discovered further parts of the residence in need of repair. It should also be accompanied by copies of the work orders I turned in on the 16th of August, when I received “the house rules,” and on the 1st of September.
Monday, 17 September
Dear Harmon Property Management,
Thank you for your notice of 12 September.
I have engaged in the ritual burning of sage once in the apartment, on moving in, as befits a cleansing ritual to a new space. It is impossible that what you found in the sink was ash. It seems likely to me that what was found was potting soil, as I use that sink to water my plants. I appreciate the management's concern for the resident's welfare.
Smudging, in violation of neither the lease nor the house rules,* involves burning bundled, ritually blessed herbs in controlled circumstances similar to the safe burning of incense. As the risks are similar to incense burning- which is not against fire code- I had no reason to believe that engaging in this ritual posed a significant hazard to anyone. If it is against fire code, I offer sincere apologies for the risk to people and property, and shall not smudge again (as I probably would have for Samhain) outside the fireplace.
As for the smoke detector, I too have noticed its absence, and would greatly appreciate its return--as per my move in checklist.
I request that the management provide me a read and signed copy of my move in checklist, which I returned in a timely manner on the 15th of August in accordance with the instruction given me.**
I have never wanted to stop Harman Property Management from finding someone else to live in bedroom B and split the utilities with us. The "nasty note" I placed on the bedroom door is a Gandhi quote, reading, "in the past we have had the options of violence and nonviolence; now we have the options of nonviolence and nonexistence." For literate readers it refers to nuclear proliferation, having nothing to do with the rental of the room or not. Though placing it on the door of a private room not rented to me was unwise, the outward facing side of the door constituted, aesthetically, public space. As neither the contract nor the house rules make reference to decoration of public space, I naturally assumed within reason this would be left to the discretion of residents. I repeatedly checked with the other residents about my use of public space, and received no notice from the management about wall hangings before it was removed. Once more, I request it returned.
The "nasty note" on the bathroom mirror merely requested that prospective tenants make the residents aware of their visits. It has caused significant emotional stress to the residents to have management in their home so constantly without proper notice, and for the management to make such strange and frequent demands, obviously based upon visits they had made without proper notice when the residents were not there.
Because this would have been more acceptable had the management been troubling themselves to maintain the residence, the note also referenced the most inconvenient of the unsatisfactory conditions, the plumbing/ hot water situation, and was posted next to copies of the work order forms previously submitted. It was to make an honest disclosure of the true condition of the property, and to convince the management to improve the condition of the property, as there are many problems that would not be perspicuous to one who has not lived there. The exact text and location of the note has been documented and is available upon request.
The only thing I have threatened anyone with is legal action. This is not grounds for eviction.
The bookshelf and plants in the hallway were not against contract, house rules, or fire code. Upon being asked to move the bookshelf, I filed a work order within days to have it moved to a location more suitable to the management's liking. Despite that it was instead moved to a location that blocks my access to furniture in my bedroom, that I can't move it anywhere myself for fear of further injuring my back, and that none of the other residents object to the bookshelf's original position in the hallway, I have kept nothing in the hallway since the bookshelf was moved except for the remaining wall hangings, which were not mentioned in the notice.
The objects I stored in the bathroom have all been grooming related. If the management wishes to limit the resident's right to store their hygiene objects in their bathrooms, this should be stated in the house rules, and in a more specific way than "the bathrooms are not to be used for storage" unless the residents are not to be permitted to keep anything in their bathrooms at all.
While there is nothing absurd or disturbing about a resident's right to a reasonably maintained property and the quiet enjoyment of the space they've paid for, I sincerely regret that your business experience leads you to believe otherwise. Neither should the ancient rituals of my faith, practiced safely and legally in my home, provoke such epithets. If you are uncomfortable with smudging as a religious practice, you should have said so earlier and should say so now directly, rather than resorting to disparagements such as “absurd” and “disturbing”. It is illegal to discriminate in provision of an open market rental on religious grounds, but reasonable people can often accommodate each other without having to resort to legal gotchas.
If there is any other way in which the management believes I am in violation of the lease, I here request that they please notify me so that I may comply.
Here also I request that the management respond to my correspondence to them dated September 12, an additional copy of which is attached.
(me)
P. S. In all future correspondence, please use correct names. At a minimum, that should include both the proper legal name and DBA, if any, of your business unit, the name of the responsible property manager with his or her license number, and the names and addresses of the landlords of this property. The Utah Department of Commerce appears to be unaware of any such entity as Harman Property Management.
* The office staff employed by Harmon Property Management would do well to take care that they do not falsely present the nature or existence of the house rules, and that they actually present them with the contract before signing; it seems this has been a problem on a number occasions in the past, and could create great inconvenience to all involved should this carelessness continue. They may also take into consideration a policy of conducting themselves with courtesy and respect towards the residents and any others they may encounter in a business setting.
**This should be accompanied by the addendum to the move in check list which I was given permission to make (and which I obtained a copy of at that time) that was turned in on the 16th of August, when I discovered further parts of the residence in need of repair. It should also be accompanied by copies of the work orders I turned in on the 16th of August, when I received “the house rules,” and on the 1st of September.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
strange
A) but good:
When you say to someone, "I'm feeling kinda depressed lately."
or
"I've stopped eating"
or
"I'm worried that I have some crap coming up, and I'll need more social support than I have over the next couple of months."
They tend to say: "oh."
But if you make an emo blog posting that basically says, "I'm feeling kinda depressed lately," they call you and say, "I saw your blog, and I'm just checking in."
or
"I saw your blog. . . are you ok?"
or
"I saw your blog. Come have an extra hug."
So. . . thanks. :)
It helps.
B) or just strange:
I made a list.
things I might want to spend time/effort/energy on, in order of their importance to me:
1) Survival
2) Self-respect
3) Improving my ability to get shit done (Executive function)
4) Good relationships (healthy, enjoyable, and fulfilling? someday, perhaps. . .)
5) Being able to care for myself
6) Being thin
7) Having a life work
8) Improving physical health
9) Learning French
10) Dancing
11) Learning music theory
12) (?) material independence? (I am not sure if this belongs on the list, or where it goes.)
notes on this list:
-It is weird.
-Virtually everything I spend time on or consider important is reflected here, somehow or other
-Items 8 through 12 all have specific weird explanations
-Items 1 and 2 vie for position, but I figure as long as I'm alive, if I irredeemably destroy my self-respect I can always kill myself later.
-I wonder if item 4 is appropriately placed. I mostly think it's ok. However, item 5 is likely a prerequisite for item 4. Reassuring.
-Items 6 and 7 switch order frequently. Here is evidenced the fucked-up-ness of me. The fact that I am honest about these priorities does not mean I've entirely accepted them.
When you say to someone, "I'm feeling kinda depressed lately."
or
"I've stopped eating"
or
"I'm worried that I have some crap coming up, and I'll need more social support than I have over the next couple of months."
They tend to say: "oh."
But if you make an emo blog posting that basically says, "I'm feeling kinda depressed lately," they call you and say, "I saw your blog, and I'm just checking in."
or
"I saw your blog. . . are you ok?"
or
"I saw your blog. Come have an extra hug."
So. . . thanks. :)
It helps.
B) or just strange:
I made a list.
things I might want to spend time/effort/energy on, in order of their importance to me:
1) Survival
2) Self-respect
3) Improving my ability to get shit done (Executive function)
4) Good relationships (healthy, enjoyable, and fulfilling? someday, perhaps. . .)
5) Being able to care for myself
6) Being thin
7) Having a life work
8) Improving physical health
9) Learning French
10) Dancing
11) Learning music theory
12) (?) material independence? (I am not sure if this belongs on the list, or where it goes.)
notes on this list:
-It is weird.
-Virtually everything I spend time on or consider important is reflected here, somehow or other
-Items 8 through 12 all have specific weird explanations
-Items 1 and 2 vie for position, but I figure as long as I'm alive, if I irredeemably destroy my self-respect I can always kill myself later.
-I wonder if item 4 is appropriately placed. I mostly think it's ok. However, item 5 is likely a prerequisite for item 4. Reassuring.
-Items 6 and 7 switch order frequently. Here is evidenced the fucked-up-ness of me. The fact that I am honest about these priorities does not mean I've entirely accepted them.
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