Apr 29

I should start off by explaining that I firmly believe that people do not change.  Fundamentally, I am the same personality that I was when I was 16.  Obviously life experience has shaped me and the things I’ve seen and done have altered my perception on things.  I handle things differently and process things differently, but if I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in 20 years, we would probably fall back into the same interactions and traits that we had way back when.  So reinvention is pretty limited.

There’s no way that I could reinvent myself as a pessimist.  It’s not in my nature.  I also can’t reinvent myself as someone who is secretive (though I’ve tried) or even guarded.  I’m none of those things and I never will be.  I know my boundaries and I know the extent of how far I can change.  I’m not talking about fundamentals here.

But, I can change what I put out to the world.  I can change the external stuff.  I can put in a little more or a little less effort.  I could rebrand myself, if you will, and with this impending cruise only a week away, I’m starting to debate internally whether or not I want to make that attempt.

The way I see it, since the internal stuff doesn’t change, putting on a different front isn’t really lying.  People who get to know me will be getting to know the real me, but don’t we all agree that this is more aesthetically appealing than this?  It’s still just meatloaf, but the presentation matters.  (Did I just liken myself to meatloaf?  Why, yes, yes I did…)

I like who I am, but I change my look on a regular basis.  They call me trendy and I’m starting to accept that, so my style changes (within parameters) with the seasons.  The clothes I’m bringing are all different shapes, cuts, colors, patterns, so there’s no one niche or definition that I’ll be locking myself into.

It all comes down to effort.  Frankly, I don’t want to spend time straightening my hair, applying makeup, doing those things that people get up hours early to accomplish.  At least, not in my everyday life.  The question I’m asking myself now is whether or not I want to put in that effort in an attempt to reinvent myself for a week.

Apr 26

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Apr 18

They might as well just saying it like.  Instead there’s a lot of “I’m not attracted to fat people”, but after posting a “Strictly platonic” ad looking for simple companionship while I attend the events I already go to alone, that was the implied answer.  “You seem cool, I want to get to know you.  Oh, you’re fat?  Never mind, then.”  And I wasn’t even looking for physicality or romance.

What is it that makes fat people pariahs?  Because that’s what we’re coming to.  I’ve heard that the fear stems from the idea that no matter how fit or thin someone is, they could become fat, and seeing it in front of them only reminds them of that.

But I don’t think I buy it.  Not entirely.  I’ve often said that bigotry against fat people is the only remaining acceptable prejudice in the US and I stand by that statement.  I hear all the time from people who say “I don’t like fat people because I want to be with someone healthy.”  Well, guess what?  I’m healthy.  And that’s not just according to me, it’s according to my doctor.  You know, a health professional with an M.D. after his name.  There’s an unwillingness to be honest with yourself if you’re saying things like “Fat people are inherently unhealthy and that’s the only reason I don’t like them”.

But I guess my question is when did being fat become a character flaw?  Especially one that completely prevents platonic relationships?  I have friends of all shapes and sizes (and ages and colors and whatever else you want to track) and it would never occur to me to not give someone a chance because of a physical feature.

The truth is that I’m not gross.  I’m cute, I bathe regularly, I dress well and for my size.  Even barring a sexual attraction, I’m pretty far from repulsive, but that’s the impression that I get.  According to people, I’m supposed to be ashamed of my body.  I’m supposed to feel bad about imposing my unattractive figure on the eyes of the masses.

FUUUUUUUCK that.  I won’t.  I won’t apologize, I won’t make excuses and I won’t let it stand.  If people want to put me down for being fat, that’s their right, but it’s my right to put them down for being bigots.  The problem comes in when people honestly don’t even realize that they’re doing it, and that comes from the acceptability of hate speech against fat people, and validated misconceptions about things like health and BMI.

It bothers me that, while I’m not ashamed of my body or feel like there’s something “wrong” with me, I am consistently incensed by the ignorance and rudeness of bigots.  Not even just bigots, but hypocritical bigots.  They make excuses and justifications for their own flaws, but are unforgiving when it comes to fat.  Some of the thinnest people I know live on a diet of fast food and sugar and have undiagnosed medical problems or are well on their way to developing them.  They’re also some of the laziest people I know, choosing to drive 1-3 blocks instead of walking.

It just kills me that people KEEP telling me that I seem like a cool person, but that they can’t possibly be my friend because I’m fat.  And, honestly, I don’t know what to do with that.

Apr 13

I don’t know when or why I stopped buying green clothes.  Green is a really nice color on me.  Anything with a high blue content looks fantastic with my skin tone (I’m “black Irish”, of course green looks good on me).  However, a few years ago I stopped buying green and people stopped buying it for me.

Recently I realized that I had almost nothing green, so I started picking things up here and there.  The first was when I found some nice tank tops on clearance, so I bought three – black, purple and green.  The first day I wore the green tank, I spilled something oily, right between my boobs.  Even though I put soap on it right away, it was stained forever, and in a very obvious place.  The black and purple tanks are getting well-worn and are in fine condition.

When I was looking for long-sleeved, lightweight tees, I found a great sale, so again, I bought three – black, gray and green (the same shade as the tank).  The first day I wore the green shirt, I spilled a drop (a drop!) of coffee, right between my boobs.  Even though I put soap on it right away, it was stained forever, and in an obvious place.  Can you see where this is going?  The black and gray shirts are fine.

So I had some great coupons and needed to pick up a few new shirts to go with the new skirts I bought.  I found an excellent cut/style and bought two – green (this time a different shade) and purple.  I wore the green one twice.  The second time (tonight), I spilled a drop of what I assume to be teryaki sauce, you guessed it, right between my boobs.  This time I wasn’t near a sink, so it was about 2 hours before I could put soap on it.  I tried dish soap this time and it worked better than anything else.  I can still see the stain, though.  Maybe no one else will, since it’s faint, but I can still see it.

I don’t know what to do with this.  I like green and it suits me, but I’m starting to feel like I’m wasting my money.  I have more than enough clothes to wear around the house, as pajamas or even to paint in.  Do I really need more?

Apr 12

Last night someone asked me “How much longer until your cruise?”  I didn’t have an answer and had to pull up my calendar to count in weeks/days.  She said “How can you not know?  I’d think that, by now, you’d be counting the days.”

Yeah, not so much.  In fact, that’s really not my style.  If you ask me when I’m leaving, I’ll tell you May 6.  If you ask me anything else I can give you detailed information, but countdown?  I’m not doing that.

I have a lot on my plate.  Right now for sure, but also in general.  This week alone I have 2 things going on every weeknight except Friday and weekend plans that may not allow me to be home other than to sleep.  I have two jobs, one of which is ending at the end of April and I’m trying to transition out of that and also figure out whether I want to continue to pursue a second source of income.  I’ve got shows to see, doctor appointments, shopping to do (buying Spawn a tux for prom) and a hundred other mundane things that I can’t afford to lose sight of right now.

I actually think that May 6 is going to surprise me with how quickly it actually arrives.

I’ve been slowly starting the spring cleaning of the apartment, but I haven’t even touched my bedroom, which is the most sorely in need of attention.  Spawn will be staying in my apartment while I’m gone (9 days) and the rule is that when I come home it’s as clean as I left it, the problem being, first I have to leave it at a high level of clean.  I can’t pack for several weeks and, with the exception of a few minor supplies (non surge-protected power strip and sync cable for my camera), I’m pretty well set in terms of my to do list.

If I was counting down, though, I’d probably waste a lot of time re-reading the program pamphlet and fooling around on the Holland America website.  See, I’ve already done all of that.  I’ve already read as much as I can about where I”m going and how I’m getting there.  Hell, I bought a guidebook back in June (which is currently lost.  I need to find that.) and immediately highlighted all the places I wanted to check out.  My itinerary is as set as it can be without my having actually mapped it out.

Why in the world would I want to be consumed about something that is still weeks away, when I have more than enough to deal with?

This cruise is an escape for me.  It’s an escape from a lot of things, but I don’t know how it’s going to pan out.  I’m certainly anxious about the whole thing.  It’s scary on a whole lot of levels.  Not counting down keeps that fear at bay.

Come May, though, when I’m only days away from jumping on a train and taking off, then I will be counting not just the days, but the hours.  that’ll be a week from hell in terms of actually accomplishing anything other than packing, cleaning and collecting addresses for postcards.  Until them, I just can’t afford the distraction.

Apr 11

Those three words.  I hate those words.

People say “You’re so brave” because I go out and do things on my own.  I  hear it from strangers who approach me in a bar to ask “Where are your friends?”, I hear it from friends who say “I could never do something like that on my own.”

Here’s the thing, though.  I don’t do it because I’m brave, I do it because I refuse to live a life dictated by others.

I would rather do almost everything I do alone with someone else.  I would prefer to have a wider network, encompassing people who also seek out new things.  I would really enjoy having a partner in crime to share more of my adventures, but that’s not available to me right now.  So I make do.

I have friends I can count on to hit up a bar.  I have friends I can count on to see 95% of the movies I want to see.  I have friends who I can talk into specific events that I can find, so please don’t think that my friends have any responsibility to become more adventurous or to be less of a homebody.  I have chosen my friends and I stand by those choices.

But sometimes it gets a little lonely, and “you’re so brave” only reinforces that feeling.  It says that there’s something dangerous and scary about doing pretty much anything solo, and a large number of people I have spoken to are terrified by the idea of going out without the safety net of a friend.  I’m not sure what they’re scared of.

I mean, I’m terrified of rejection to the point where I don’t often request Facebook friends, but it doesn’t stop me from enjoying events.  Rejection only occurs if I overstep someone else’s boundaries or if I commit to an event with the idea that I’ll make a bunch of new friends from it.  But going to a wine and cheese tasting?  Seeing a movie without a buddy?  I don’t see the danger or the source of the fear.

The cruise, I get.  There are a lot of scary factors to my cruise, even without the bit about going alone.  I’m traveling through the Bermuda triangle and will be in it on Friday the 13th.  I have no idea what to expect from the other conference attendees.  I mean, I’m not a scientist, I just like science and read Scientific American.  I could be in WAY over my head with some of these folks.  I’m also sharing a room with someone I won’t meet until we’re both on the boat.  There’s a whole lot of scary to deal with.

But it’s the combination of all the different scenarios.  The people who are unlikely to say those three words about bars or movies or events are equally unlikely to to be surprised or concerned by my taking this big vacation without a partner.

I think that when people say “You’re so brave”, they’re really saying “I wish I could do that”.  It’s not about me being brave, it’s about them being scared.  It’s a choice we make.  Are you willing to live a life dictated by whether or not someone else will hold your hand and keep you company?  Fair enough if it is, but I cannot live a life like that.  I want to experience everything the world offers up to me, and if the trade-off for that is that I might be a little lonely doing it, so be it.

I just ask one thing.  Instead of the three words being “You’re so brave”, can we make a point to instead say “Good for you!”?

Apr 10

Wherever you live, there are signs that tell you when spring has truly arrived.  It seems that, for most, these are things in nature, like the green shoots coming from the ground, a robin, budding trees, new grass, everyone has something.  But, for me, living in a city, having to seek out nature, the signs of spring are something else.  There are three that I can identify.

The first sign of spring, for me, is being able to leave the windows open while the sun is up.  The fresh air invigorates me and pleases my cats.  Another thing that pleases my cats is how, once the windows are open, people stop and talk to them.  My little old lady neighbor has real conversations with the cats.  Star is her favorite, but she’ll talk to Dracula, too, and tell him how pretty he is.  My favorites, though, are the big, tough guys who stop and speak in a baby voice, telling the boys what pretty girls they are.

The second sign of spring is when ALL the snow is finally gone.  Living in the North Atlantic, we get our share of snow.  This year we got MORE than our share and it was piled up everywhere.  I learned today, walking through the mall parking lot, that we haven’t quite achieved complete melt, but we’re very, very close.  As far as I’m concerned, it is gone.  It’s gone from my street and gone from the sidewalks I walk and that’s good enough.

The third sign is the most important one. The way I know that it’s truly spring is when I turn the corner, walking to the bus stop, and there they are, the old guys in plastic chairs, sitting in front of the barbershop.  Turning that corner and seeing their happy, friendly faces put a huge grin on my face, and seeing me did the same for them.  There’s something comforting to me, in having neighbors you see often and can chat with.  I’m pretty isolated in this neighborhood, so those guys are important to my overall sense of well-being.

Today, it became official.  Spring is here!

Apr 9

I don’t like the term “green”.  It feels trendy and seems to be applied mostly to people who pay environmental responsibility lip service.  I prefer, for myself, the term environmentally conscious.  Lots more letters, many more syllables, much more accurate.

I’ve been carrying reusable bags and a travel mug since well before it was trendy (just ask my poor, harassed friends).  I’ve always recycled plastic and paper bags and have recycled household containers for as long as curbside recycling has been available to me.  I donate old clothes, or use them as rags if they’re too destroyed.  Heck, I even pass magazines on when I’m done with them and with the exception of the weeklys that I get, they all get read by multiple people before they are turned into collages or recycled.  The thing is, with all those various pieces, they integrate easily into my lifestyle.  I don’t have to make many changes to incorporate the next environmentally friendly thing into my established routines.

I do pretty well for the environment.  Most of the time.  The problem is that I waste water.

And it’s not what you think.  I’m pretty water-conscious, but…  I take baths, I run the water until it gets hot, and I wash the dishes in the sink with the water running.  Now some might say “That’s all?  Well, Fyre, you don’t own a car, so that should offset the couple of things you do that are wasteful.”  And that’s true, but it feels like a cop-out.  Just because I conserve energy in other ways, doesn’t mean that I should be wasting energy.  I, frankly, think that “carbon offsets” are bullshit and the ultimate lip service to the environmental movement.

So I’ve been thinking about how to be more water-efficient and there are a few roadblocks.  First, I’m not gonna stop taking baths.  It’s relaxing and comfortable and I like it.  It’s almost a vice, except not bad for me.  I’m also not going to change the way I do dishes because of how obnoxious it would be to make that happen.  I can’t fit or afford a dishwasher (and I rent, why would I buy a major appliance for a place I rent?) and my sink baskets don’t plug the sink.  Even just finding the proper sink baskets is next-to-impossible, since my landlord buys everything used and I have no idea how to even find the correct size.  Stepping up on baths and dishes does not integrate with my lifestyle, it forces me to expend more personal energy and frustration than I’m willing to give.

So, what can I do?  For now, I’m keeping a gallon jug by the sink and collecting the water as I wait for it to heat up.  I can use that water for tea and coffee.  It’s a start.  Not much of one, but a start nonetheless.  I do turn the water off while I brush my teeth and while I shampoo/condition my hair (when you take baths, you wash your hair in the sink).  I do have a low-flow toilet and shower head (for when other people shower at my house – heh).  I know that setting up a grey water system is even more cost-prohibitive than a dishwasher and, again, I rent, so that’s out.

But I feel like I could be doing a lot more in terms of water usage.  And, honestly, I tend to beat myself up about not doing more, which is ridiculous because even ignoring my lack of car ownership (and use), I’m still probably the most environmentally-conscious person I know.  So I’m looking for ideas.  Do you have any ideas on saving water that are easily integrated into apartment living?

Apr 2

Mother said, “The world is a lot more dangerous now than it was when I was a kid” and she meant it.  She claimed that the drug culture didn’t exist to the same extent in the 70′s as it does today.  She claimed that girls are at a greater risk now than they were at any time in the past.

I just happen to think she’s delusional.

As soon as her daughter turned 18, she took off.  She packed her things and went, leaving her mother wondering where she’d gone.  Maybe Daughter wasn’t the street-smartest person, but when you live a smotheringly sheltered life, that’s somewhat to be expected.  In fact, her promiscuity, early recreational drug use, and teenage drinking were warning signs that everyone except Mother saw…  and many of us knew exactly what was going to happen.

Daughter hitchhiked across the country, taking rides from shady characters.  She followed jam bands, experiemented with drugs and squatted in condemned buildings with teenage runaways, addicts, and free spirits.  She exposed herself to some of the greatest dangers that the 21st century has to offer and experimented with things that, some say, “kids” have no business being exposed to at all.

But we proclaim people adults at 18, even when we don’t treat them that way.  And, in addition to all the dangerous and stupid things she saw and did, Daughter learned how to survive.  She learned to take responsibility for herself; how to make money, how to find shelter (sometimes temporary), how to meet new people and leverage contacts.  She found people long-lost from her life.  She took ownership of her own life and, while she made mistakes, some of them big and scary, SHE made them.

As a society, we are loathe to allow our children to make mistakes.  It’s more and more common that we protect our children from imaginary dangers.  More and more parents are putting their children on gluten-free, 100% organic or vegan diets to prevent them from developing food allergies, even though a lack of exposure to common things is more dangerous than identifying allergies that actually exist.  More and more parents are armed with anti-bacterial gels and wipes and don’t allow their children to be exposed to the very germs that strengthen their immune systems.

Is it really any surprise that when we don’t allow our kids to make their own mistakes, the mistakes they make as “adults” are That.  Much.  Worse?

Well Mother certainly was surprised and she took it out on me and my opinions.  I am of the opinion that travel is good for young adults and that late-teens/early-20′s is the ONLY time that they can get the full benefits of traveling.  At that time, with a few exceptions, they have no real responsibilities.  If they work, they have a job that they can quit and replace.  If they’re in school, they are exposed to opportunities for travel and study abroad.  Once you start a career path or a family, it becomes significantly more difficult to just up and go.

But I am wrong, because the world is a dangerous place.  Particularly for children.  And more dangerous than it ever was before.

Hrm.  Okay.  So the 60′s weren’t dangerous?  Birth control was new and meant that men didn’t need to wear a condom anymore, so STD rates shot up.  Nowadays, we are better informed, at least those of us in states with sex ed programs, and those of us who are old enough to remember Ryan White and the AIDS scare in the 80′s.  So the likelihood of a girl getting a disease is lessened.

In fact, let’s talk about the 60′s and 70′s and how “safe” they were.  Should we look at AltamontKent StateThe Manson Family?  These were defining features and moments of the decades that Mother told me were “much safer”.  When the world is in turmoil and people are protesting the actions of the government, they are putting themselves in harm’s way.  When the world is in turmoil and people are outraged, the outrage and danger affect other aspects of American life, like free rock concerts.  There are no American parallels to those events in the 2000s.

Technology serves to keep us more in touch with long-distance friends and family.  Instead of getting a collect call once a week (at best), family and friends can see Facebook activity several times a week, if not a day.  Cell phones make long-distance calls easy and text messaging allows check-ins without actually having to talk or listen.  If someone was kidnapped or otherwise in peril, a lack of communication would become obvious a whole lot faster than in any other decade.  So in terms of knowing when someone goes missing, it’s much safer today, and easier to track someone using their phone’s GPS chip.

Drugs, though.  There more prevalent, more potent, more dangerous.  It’s easier to get them today, and you’re more likely to overdose or get addicted or whatever BS argument is going to be used.  The truth is, drugs are everywhere and if someone is going to use, it’s not going to matter if they live at home or 3000 miles away.  I happen to know for a fact that Daughter was using drugs and alcohol well before she turned 18, let alone before she skipped town.  So I can’t accept this as a factor that makes traveling more dangerous.

The more I look at it, the safer it seems to me, but the root of the issues aren’t travel or safety or the condition of the nation or world.  The issues are a lack of common sense and street smarts.  There’s an unwillingness to expose our children to the realities of today’s world.  We want them to magically accept responsibility at 18, without ever having been able to make a mistake or having to take responsibility for their own actions prior.

That’s what’s dangerous about the 21st century.  Not the world we live in, but this seemingly common unwillingness to expose our kids to it.

I’ll take the metaphorical punches.  I’ll stand there while you scream at me about how dangerous the world is and how terrible an idea it is to let your adult teenager travel and see the nation or world, but when MY kid goes out to see the world, he’ll be prepared for it, and I won’t have to worry about him  too much.  Meanwhile, Mother can pretty well expect that Daughter will take off again after she’s rested and recovered and been driven out again by the smothering.

Apr 1

Last year, I promised Moon that I would take her to Free Comic Book Day.  A few weeks ago, I realized that on May 7 I will be in New York City, doing my pre-cruise adventure, “Science in the City”.

A month or two ago, Moon asked about Tulip Fest and I told her “Of course we’re going.  We all ALWAYS go to Tulip Fest.”  A few weeks ago I learned that Tulip Fest is on May 7-8 this year – while I’m in the City and getting on a cruise ship.

This is why I try to not make promises and, while I never used that word, promises were still made.  Promises I have to break.  Promises to a 7 year old.  And that’s the part that really makes it suck.  While I’m missing these fun and traditional events, it’s that I’m letting my niece down that really bothers me.  Whatever, Tulip Fest, I’ve been every year for the past 10 years and will probably go to the next 10 (barring an out of state/area move), but Moon was so excited about going with me.  She was also thrilled with the idea of getting her own free comics and experiencing geek culture.

*sigh*

So I’m trying to make it up to her.  The first thing we’re doing is to hit up an event for the Easter Bunny’s arrival at a local mall.  It turns out (I discovered while grabbing links for this post) that t here is also a healthy kids event going on today and tomorrow.  We walked past the location for the health event last weekend and she expressed interest, so maybe we’ll hit that up as well.  We’ll also have dinner out and maybe even take a cab home.

So, does this make up for breaking my promises and abandoning her on Mother’s Day weekend?  For me, not at all.  Breaking those promises, to me, means that I’ll work as hard as I can to pack days with fun events.  It means that I will keep an eye out for family-friendly events and fun things to do.

And you can bet that I’ll bring her back a kick-ass present from Bermuda.  You know, in addition to the only thing she asked for – a vial of pink sand.