thanksgiving freebies

miss l and i started our holiday journey by plundering dumpsters. oh, holy bounty! i had so many perishables that i had people over for a brunch the other day.
t-day i went to green county where i said "boner" twice and "goddammit" once in front of old religious relatives. these are people who say grace before eating and swear up and down that tattoos are evil. they mean well, but i really am their little token black sheep. they humor me but don't want their kids to take me seriously. because having babies at 17 and out of wedlock is soo much better. my mom was proud of my bounty until she looked around and realized that she was supposed to be embarrassed by me. i was talking to my favorite aunt in the kitchen and i think my thoughts on government and politics offended her. i didn't realize she was such a corporatist. that kind of made me sad because i wanted her to think that i'm awesome and back me up. i was telling her about my busking/roller clown idea and she was trying to dissuade me. meanwhile i was trying to get her to realize that she was a bought woman and to see my pov on anarchism. now i just kind of feel sorry for her.
then i went to tijuanna's where there was even more food and six kinds of pie! hustler got to play with lots of dogs and i got to detox from rural indiana.
i also skated and drank and had horrible sinus headaches. and sang karaoke to Loretta Lynn, "don't come home a drinkin'." it was less of singing and more of howling, but i'm giving myself credit for it anyways.
but get this- sunday i went for dinner at my momma's and she gave my these pants she got at the dump! gloria vanderbilt high-wasted, skinny jeans, in a fruit stripe pattern. i. am. going. to. wear. these. all. week. long. i want to see how long it will take people to say something to me about them. fantastic! i'll be like the german exchange student in 11th grade econ., only without the moose knuckles.

Introducing Buster Keister

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I am going to do long term. How I am going to manage avoiding office work. And I was researching circus schools and clown colleges the other day. There really aren’t very many, and it’s too bad that vaudeville is a thing of the past. So then I was looking into busking, and thinking that I could be a one-woman show. If I went to a big city, like Chicago, I could do it on the streets for money. And maybe if I got some other people interested I could modify it into a burlesque show. I could join/create a burlesque troupe, or just hook up with one for shows.
The thing is, I really like goofing off and acting ridiculous on skates. I’d like to make people laugh and be an entertainer. So what I am thinking is making up a little act which would entail me dressing as a roller girl/clown and trying to do ballet on skates. I would fall down a lot and look funny and there would be physical humor. But if I can learn to do the can-can on skates that would be aweeeesome, and actually really impressive. I think I’m gonna start practicing toe stop work in my kitchen. So the busking act would be “the little clown girl who wanted to be a ballerina,” but then for burlesque it could be more saucy and less cutesy. Maybe a little strippy. Ohh, and I should practice hula hooping. That’s a definite skill.
I’m looking up online and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is really doing this. I found one video that was such a simple simple act, but nothing else. I think I could maybe really do this. Fans! Feathers! Sequins!
Oh, and I also have this vision of choreographed, synchronized roller dancing girls (a la Ziegfeld follies) as a roller derby half-time show. That could be sooo fun. The problem is that most of the girls who would be interested and physically able to do it are probably already in derby. So there is a logistical problem for you. Even if I did it by myself, or did a matador routine with a partner in tennis shoes, it would be tough if I was actually skating in that bout. Maybe between a double-header?
I was thinking that my busking name could be Buster Keister, after the silent-era comedy star Buster Keaton. What do you think? This all sounds feasible, right? I mean, I have to dream about something…

the kitchen

The community kitchen is some powerful shit. I am convinced the community kitchen could have kept Lex Luthor from turning evil. The community kitchen could have kept Darth Vader from the dark side. And I don’t mean because they would have had full bellies, I mean because they would have had full hearts. Wow. That’s soo corny. But I feel like the “other” that I get at the kitchen is just as big and just as powerful as any nourishment. What is this “other” I mean?
First off, people don’t just go to the kitchen because they want to. They go because they need to. Because it is imperative. Because there is no other way to make ends meet. You are sitting in the gutter and someone gives you food. Good food. And it’s not the food so much that matters, but just the fact that someone looked at you. Someone acknowledged you. Someone says, “yes, you exist.” And not just that, but “you matter.” The Fact That You Exist, Matters. It’s a community saying, “no, we’re not going to let you go.”
I can see now how Edward Norton gets addicted to the support meetings in Fight Club. And that feeling of letting go, of falling, and then bouncing. Of being saved. That’s amazing. It’s like being reborn. It’s like going to confession. Being baptized.
That is some powerful medicine. For me, going to the kitchen means hitting bottom and being reminded that you still matter, that it will be ok in the end. That someone will reach a hand out and help you. And that’s enough to warm a cold, cold heart.
It gives me hope. And not just hope that I’ll turn out ok, but hope for the future of our community. As long as we have people who care about others, who care enough to give this kind of support to perfect strangers, for no reason at all, for no personal gain, then I think maybe as a society we’ll be ok. Maybe we can all save ourselves.
And this makes me think maybe I should be working in a non-profit. What I loved about being a public librarian was this idea of helping the common man, teaching people to teach themselves. Inspiring people to want to learn, and then watching them light up when they realized all that was out there for them. Maybe I should be in the social services…I have to start my revolution somewhere.

"We were in the business of mutual amusement, and we were reasonably prosperous."

*yup. i'm totally reposting this from my book blog: you're so meta. a book that made me think about my life enough to write fifteen million paragraphs deserves two postings! yee haw! suck on that!

This was my first John Green novel and I enjoyed it very much. Let’s first start with the praise: Green is very creative in terms of language; there were a great many awesome one-liners which I have yet to co-opt and use on my friends. It kept me interested and made me laugh. And toward the end, it made me think. Like, deep thoughts and stuff. Now for the complaints: it is a little disjointed. It almost reads like three different stories. I wish that he had either made the whole novel more cohesive, or separated them completely into three distinct parts as a way to give the reader a warning.
Overall I liked it a lot. It is for sure a classic example of coming of age YA. I think this novel will do a good job of tricking teen readers into thinking about their lives in ways they hadn’t yet intended. It reminds me of Catcher in the Rye, and Someday This Pain will be Useful to You. But it also reminds me a little of Cory Doctorow’s, Little Brother with its use of technology and the thriller/adventure aspect to part of the story.
But what I really wanted to write about was how Green made me think. I identified with the main female character in that we share an anarchist philosophy and we both seem to be afflicted with a never ending wanderlust. I understand her boredom with modern society and her idea of “Paper Towns.” It really made me think about leaving. Why I always feel the need to.
I recently left a good job in the Miami area and moved back to little old Bloomington, IN. My idea was this: I hate Miami, therefore I must hate big cities. I should go back home, to a small town, where there is room to subvert the system and live beneath the currents. Back to where people are real, where there is a history to things. What I didn’t anticipate was getting bored. Specifically, getting bored after four months. Bored with my meaningless job. There never seems to be enough trouble to get into. Or people who are interested in getting into trouble.
And I realize that I Will Never be one of those people who define their lives by their job, career, kids, partner. The nice house they own, their multiple cars, soccer camp, the PTA. Now, a lot of this I have known, but I did really fall into the idea that coming back home was safe. And that I would get a decent job, eventually work toward buying a little old house, more dogs, meet a nice lady, etc. and now I feel like I’ve done all this work to set a future up for myself and the entire idea bores the shit out of me. I figured out Miami in three months, how can I possibly think of staying in this little town of 80,000 people for the rest of my life? Hence: anxiety. And somehow the anxiety exacerbates the boredom. And the boredom, the anxiety.
This is my pattern: fantasize about a place, research and make a plan to move to said place, move, have a great three months exploring and having exciting new experiences, get bored with new place, realize place is not as magical as I thought in my mind, have real people problems with money and jobs and bills, research and make a new plan to go to a new place, in the meantime wait out the rest of my lease and grumble about how bored I am and how I can’t wait to move to X city.
So this is what I have learned about my needs/wants from the most recent move. Never sign a year lease. Always sublet an apartment or get roommates from Craigslist. Furniture is not important and will just present more problems when I decide to move again. Sell furniture and bulky unnecessary possessions. Never think of another move as “the answer,” the end of the road. Don’t let myself get sucked into thinking that I will/want to “settle down.” I will only be disappointed with myself when I don’t feel/perform like I think I’m supposed to. Stop thinking in terms of “supposed to,” “normal,” “expected.”
I used to have these insecure feelings that the reason I wanted to move was because I was afraid of failure in my current place/situation. I now know for sure that this is not the case. I can do anything. I have moved across the country four times! I have lived in my car for two weeks! I have perfected the art of car-camping. I got the big-girl job I wanted, turned it down, and then turned down another. I could stay here and wait this out as long as I want; I could do the little Bloomington lesbian storybook ending. And that is awesome for some, but really and truly, that bores the shit out of me.
As I watch myself and my friends get older, get coupled up into more permanent couples, get houses together, pets together, start dressing the same, nesting, going home at midnight, playing video games, staying in and watching movies, not doing anything, not existing, as an individual, I am more and more bored. Love is a drug, it’s a sedative.
It’s not that I don’t want (romantic) love, I do. But I am strong without it. I don’t NEED it. I’ve fell into that sedative trap before and it’s not something I ever want to do again. And I feel like I know myself well enough by now to know that a house and spouse isn’t what I’m looking for.
I am ALWAYS looking around the corner, what’s over there, what’s else is happening. Planning trips, excursions, adventures. Fantasizing about city X. Bucking against the reins. It’s like everyone is sitting down to a buffet, and I look around at everyone’s plates and they are all eating heaping piles of macaroni and cheese. And I’m like, hey what about these brussel sprouts, here’s some shrimp, roast beef, ribs! Crab Rangoon! I know it’s a silly example, but it is the way I visualize the differences between me and a lot of other people.
That’s just me. I’m always going to question. I’m always going to ask why? What if? What about? What else? Digging up the holes, peeking in the cracks. Exploring. It’s just my nature. I can’t not. I’m always going to crave experience. I am always going to want more.
I’m hoping that realizing all of this and changing my attitude will help me to better appreciate my surroundings after the honeymoon period wears off. That I will be a little better equipped to deal with Bloomington. That I’ll finally stop comparing myself and my views/tastes/opinions with those of other people. Because, really, none of that is applicable.
So what’s next? Well, every time I make a plan I find it really hard not to move forward with it, so I’m trying to keep this one a little fuzzy. I’m set to stay here in town for another year at least. I might make it two or three. We’ll see how it goes. After that I’m thinking Chicago. There are a lot of things I love about Chicago, plus I would be able to live without a car and I could come home all the time to visit. I’m thinking if I want to stay in one place for a little while without becoming bored and get to do lots of crazy things and meet lots of crazy people, maybe I should try a bigger city. If that doesn’t work there’s always NYC. Or Madison. Or Burlington. Or Olympia...

I’m kind of having a metaphysical crisis

Ok, so I got this thing. This shape-shifting thing. This thing that I do. I am so concerned with security, with having a future, a plan. Yet, to make a plan really work, you have to be static enough to work it. And I change so much. My future is constantly changing. It changes faster than it is possible for me to plan.
I am somewhat of an anxious person naturally, and this aspect makes me increasingly so. I'm constantly chasing shifting rainbows.
So here I am, back in Bloomington and trying to figure out what I'm going to do with myself. How am I going to live. How am I going to construct my life.
I keep trying things on, and nothing seems to fit right. Or it only fits for a year or two, then I grow out of it. I know a lot of things which I don't want to do. A lot of people who I don't want to be. And I have this idea of the people I am drawn to, fascinated by. I'd like to be like them. To realize that. But in real life there are details, logistics. I'm trying to work out the details. Refining. Distilling life into the most important and worthwhile pursuits.
And sometimes I think about going back to Portland because I would be surrounded by these people who fascinate me. But this problem I have, this money problem would only get worse. And I am really trying to eliminate/minimize the effect money has on my life and well-being. Simplify, simplify, simplify.
So I look back on the things that I have done, the places I have lived, the people I have been, and I wonder- was it all a series of phases? Of fads? Am I just a series of temporary persona's? Because if that is the case, then how can I trust myself to do/be anything in the future? How can I trust that the things of which I am currently invested will always be? Am I just bullshitting myself like I have been bullshitting everyone else all along?