so, despite the fact that there's a lot going on right now, I don't really know how to write about any of it - because I don't quite understand any of it... so, guess what I can finally do? catch up on some happy little details of the past week. whee.
the conversation I had with the doc a week ago friday was really fun, light, amusing. and the visit Thursday, when the mystery guest turned out to be Jarrod, was simply fabulous... :sigh: and I didn't really write the detailed goodness of either of them, and now I don't know how well I can remember either, but a few things that do come to me:
-thursday, I whipped around for some reason - maybe to get someone a drink? - and Jarrod complimented my green-and-white striped kneesocks, and Shandi said that she'd been thinking how great they were the entire time and hadn't said anything, and I was like, "yeay! I love them, too!" (I was also wearing my bright green geeks-heart-me t-shirt. it was a pretty rocking fashion statement. ...and actually, yesterday, I was lying on my bed being upset, and there werre a few shirts strewn out next to me - one red, one green, one orange, and I looked at them and smiled. because I was thinking of Steph, and how one time, *one time*, at Rogers I wore a bright red sweater, and she mentioned liking the image of me in actual color - and I, ever a fan of visibility - changed. but these three shirts were such rainbow brightness, and when I carried the red one over to my closet to see if it was as bright as that sweater - which I still have, but still don't ever wear... it actually fits weirdly ... it was *brighter.* just slightly, but still. when I have blue hair, she's going to go nuts. and my heart will be all pitter-patter imagining it. wait a moment that's funny. ever-so-mellow-Steph going nuts. that doesn't happen. :laugh:)
-it's important to note that these compliments on my clothing were made despite the fact that I hadn't considered my company while dressing. I'd just put on some of my own favorite things.
-also, my mom said something to me a few days ago about how I look really good. she said she'd noticed, too, (I'd mentioned to her that I was noticing) I'm growing for the first time since, say, middle school, and I look different, more adult. she said that she thought I looked really good, but it wasn't simply that change... that lately, there had been a brightness to me, and she swore it wasn't just the tan either. (I look like a yummy baked-good fresh from the oven. which is kind of scary, considering the idea that I am actually 'baking' in the sun. but I am all sunlight-ish. must be that yellow undertone. bah, fashion strategies, bah! release me from your grip, you evil class.)
-do you know I refer to fashion strategies more often than any other class I took in school, with psych and English as the only subjects even *close* to competition-status? do you know how much I enjoy the frightfulness of that?
-oh, and what I meant to say two dash-bullets up was that I think my mom's observing the fact that I fought the body-image-demons on this whole growing up thing, and I won. mwa ha ha. I mean, it's not *done* by any means, but I've won; that much is evident. it's a weird scenario of "I may have won the war, but the battles still remain." but yeah. as I explained to my sister when she was talking about the difficulty/ obnoxiousness of working at a place where she's constantly surrounded by dancers and former dancers, nearly all of whom are on diets, and none of whom can accept the fact that they weigh considerable more than they did when they were dancing, and she feels odd about the changes to her own body sometimes, too, but she has more of a "this is how it is; deal" approach, considering everything that's happened: I sort of looked at myself and went, "ok. this is healthy. this is supposed to happen and it needs to happen, and the only 'alternative' ain't happening, so we'd better start getting used to it." and I am getting used to it. so I look way better because I dress differently, think differently, carry myself differently. I walk my kick-ass, dork-pride run way, and I bring it, babydoll.
(wow, that was a scary sentence. heh!)
-do you notice how little of this is about the Thursday visit and the Friday session? I noticed it, too.
-so, as usual, when my friends came over I was self-conscious about the decor. my mom has this love for (not) all things (she's particular) goddessy, witchy, feministy, et cetera. her artwork (some of it seriously amazing) decorates the walls, and there were a few years where she pretty much painted nothing without the nude female form. which is kind of hard to explain to guests sometimes. "no, she's not a lesbian. she's aware that she has a body. does that make sense?" I thought I overheard Jason saying something about that element of the artwork, and so I immediately started joking to minimize the weirdness (I want to quit doing that), and at pretty much the same moment, Jarrod said, "I'm going to look through your books," which were actually my mom's books. I felt my nerves go up a little. "oh. those are my mom's. there's a lot of art and goddess stuff there." I hoped that'd be explanation enough, and after he looked at a few titles, he'd move on. after all, Jarrod reads sci-fi and Stephen King, right? (phisiognomy isn't the only thing that changes in three years, Mary. and some things you didn't know back then.) so Jarrod's looking through the books, and he finds neon pink stickers I don't remember ever seeing before, that read "Gay by God." apparently, these were stuck in one of my mom's books. I'd never seen them before. it's important to note that a few people told me in high school never to get on the subject of gay rights with Jarrod because it would, basically, ruin our friendship. (I told Jarrod this later, and he asked me who and why, and said something about, "so glad they actually asked me instead of just assuming..." personally, I was pissed with myself. why, why didn't I check it out with him? why did I just believe his friends? damnit. regretting what I didn't do again. surprise.) so, still thinking that Jarrod is... (fuck. I don't even like to finish that sentence because it makes me mad at myself again. I just let myself think that one of my *best friends* was ... something I don't even want to waste a word on... ugh. when I told the doctor about it - we talked for awhile on the subject - he used the term "anti-gay." so. yeah.) still thinking Jarrod was "anti-gay" - I played dumb. what? what are those? I've never seen those. (which was true.) Shandi said something about understanding them, since I seemed so confused, and I was like, right. Shandi's all about human rights. how do I mediate this? and then *Jarrod* starts talking about people's stupidity around civil and human rights for gay people, and I just sort of listen, in slight shock. we tell some stories. friends who have come out; fundamentalist conservative Christians who have made their lives hell. (might as well get a head start, hey? ...where does that quote come from - about this world being another planet's hell?) it becomes very clear that Jarrod does not feel the way I've been told he feels. he talks about his fundamentalist family, and his 12-yr-old sister who tells him he's "so going to burn in the lake of fire." and I talk about my fundamentalist (extended) family, and how I have a cousin who's come out to only a few people (in the family; his friends all know) ... and how no one quite knows what will happen if anyone in our family ever comes out to the family. because it's very possible they will be disowned or sent to some camp to cure them or similar shit. (it's also possible that people will adapt. personally, I think at least a good part of the family will learn to deal with it. especially in my generation. because we're the cool generation. and the adults, wanting to be cool, will mimic us, of course.) I felt more than a little like I was lying while we talked. "I have this cousin who..." and especially "I'm one of forty grandchildren. so everyone sort of has their eyes open, going, ok. who else? because, come on? statistically?" ...to be saying that instead of "plus, I'm questioning. so that'll be interesting, if I ever figure it out" felt like lying. but I couldn't make myself say it. I think because we were in a group, and we were talking about opinions and gossip-type-events. we weren't really talking about our own experiences. if it had been just me and Jarrod, I think I would have told him. I think I probably *will* tell him, when he returns the two books he borrowed from my mom (yeah. one on mandalas and one on world religions) - and the Ramayana, which he borrowed from me. and I think I could have told Shandi, one-on-one also, but that just doesn't feel comfy yet. and I think, since this feels so much like the "I'm sick but I'm not telling anyone with what and I'm going to make sure it sounds purely physical" lovefest and I ended up telling Shandi what was actually wrong without thinking about it first, which meant being really uncomfortable with it for a long while... speaking of which, I would also like to talk to Jarrod about the whole I've-been-sick thing. because it just seems weird to have spent all this time away, in that, and - when returned to a relationship - have the person only know what they've heard through proxy. 't'aint cool. but all in good time, I suppose. for the moment, Roo's the only one I've found the gumption to tell... someday...
-this weekend is pride weekend. and despite former plans, I'll actually be here for it. I wish I could sort of "wander into" the proper district, and "huh. well, would you look at that? might as well hang around a bit" my way into playing the smallest, observational role in it all. the doc and I talked about this (not the weekend, the issue of identity/ orientation) that Friday... he talked about how things have evolved over the past few decades, what "brave people" have done, and how in my generation there's this really cool decision to be less and less firm about the labels. I told him I'd observed that. how after being "gay" or "straight" for a few years, people sometimes say, "mainly, I'm This... but I do occasionally get attracted to or have a crush like That." which I think is cool. but I think having that time of firmly insisting, knowing yourself to fit a label, is important. the doc suggested I go at my own pace and not hurry to catch up with friends or lag to let friends catch up with me. and at some point, I made a comment about my own feelings, and he said, "when you say 'I' - are you talking on behalf of your friend, or do you actually mean yourself?" to which I replied, "I mean me." And then I curled up with my head against my knees and said, "please don't ever make me clarify that again," and we both started laughing way too hard. because it was funny.
-Jarrod has not read Harry Potter. a master plan must be developed. this *will* be remedied.
-some reasons Jarrod is cool (other than the basic fact that he came to visit me): when he saw the magnet on our fridge which originally read, "life is not about finding yourself. life is about creating yourself" and now reads "life is not about finding yourself. life is about finding nemo" - he laughed. and he liked my snowman totem pole, which you'll just have to visualize because I'm not going into it right now. when I offered drinks - caffeine free coke, water, apple juice, cherry juice, and (same eyes-rolling voice in which I spoke of my mom's books) "soy milk" - he said, "is that sweetened soy milk?" and I said no. "oh," he said. "I can only do the sweetened."
"I can only do the unsweetened!" I said, and we had one of those "that'd so be grounds for us to be best friends, if we were seven" moments. squee.
the fact that he drinks soy milk and borrowed the books he did finally has me ready to quit bashing my mom's stuff around other people. he actually told me he's had The Red Tent recommended to him, and I was like, "she has that!" ...and suddenly, I wanted to read it a lot more than I had. (I'm pretty damn keen to read the Ramayana, which I have only a few false starts on, now as well.)
he fell asleep on my bed. curled up by my pillows. I told the doctor that I love to watch people asleep. that everone looks so beautiful (or maybe I said cute) when they're asleep. he found this confession adorable. :looks adorably sheepish^: I thought he was just resting because he'd gone to sleep at *seven* and been at my apartment at *one* - so I did what I always do when someone starts to fall asleep: I found him a stuffed animal. Pup, specifically. (my original Tracy Pup.) I put it near him, lightly, but he still opened his eyes, and when he saw it, he said, "thanks," - curled up with it - and proceeded to fall asleep holding Pup... that was a complete adorability overdose. the last bit of the visit passed, and Shandi and Jason started plotting how they were going to get him to the car, to which I responded "oh, just leave him here! I want to keep him!" ...earlier, he'd said something about how we needed to exchange mom's (probably caught my tone) - to which I replied "but I *like* my mom. can we just adopt you?" and he'd agreed to that... so then when she woke him, I pulled him toward me, staking my claim, and we ended up with our arms around each other, and I remembered I had a camera, and Shandi took a pic of our cuteness. squee.
-and at some point, I denied some other love-rumor by saying, "oh, come on, you know Jarrod and I are secretly in love" and he nodded. now, you have to love that in a person. people who will immediately support your stories are just wonderful, without doubt.
-and not to make it sound like I only enjoyed seeing Jarrod (not true, not true! I was glad to see Shans and Jason, too! I just... haven't seen Jarrod in years...) there was one point when poor-Jason-who-I-think-must-have-been-rather-bored read the Little Critter book "What a Bad Dream." and anyone who picks that book up off the shelf to read gets an A in the grading system I don't have.
-hugs all around before they left. Jarrod said he'd be back because he had my books. I told him he'd be back because I'm cool and he likes me, and he agreed to that. the affection was cool. he'd been talking about some painful stuff with his best friend (more accurately, with her fiance) and he'd mentioned that he always kisses her goodbye, the way he does all his best friends, and suddenly that's a problem. and I was like, you *do* that? really? I love doing that! (but I never know which friends will be ok with it, and I rarely take the risk. well, maybe not so rarely, considering how few people I see. godd knows I kissed Sara a few hundred thousand times. and I've missed it ever since. actually, I think I missed it before, too.) I had more than a moment of wishing I'd been around for the last 2 1/2 years of high school (in an alternate universe where that wouldn't have had such dire consequences) to grow closer with him. to know that bullshit about his stance on gay rights was bullshit, to be a best friend who could kiss him hello and goodbye...
-other than describing my relationship with Jarrod and the visit and such, and some of the sexuality topic - my Friday session was mainly about how incredibly cute I am. I started confessing things that most people think are "quirky" (at best), and the doctor just sort of lit up, and talked about how he thought it was adorable, and he thought that was magnificent, and so I kept telling him more stories. mainly about how I consider *everything* animated. I couldn't pick milk at Rogers because I didn't want to leave all the other milks behind, and then when I finally grabbed one, I felt bad because maybe this milk didn't want to come with me... maybe what the milk *really* wanted was to stay with all the other milks. (I mentioned this one morning at breakfast to pick up a friend's spirits, and the basic response was, "Mary - your eating disorder is *really* weird." to which I had to reply, "no, really, this is just me. this is actually my healthy weirdness.") I talked to him a lot about stuffed animals, how I can't ever get rid of them, names and personalities of a few, how I don't have a favorite - how could I have a favorite! ... etc. I told him how when I was little and my sinuses were bad and I couldn't breathe if I lay down - when I needed an extra pillow to prop me up, and I didn't have it, I would take my big white bear with the satin green bow-tie, whose name is Furry, and I would ask him if he would do me the favor of helping hold up my head, and then, after he accepted (he's so accomadating! seriously! he's a loyal bear, Furry), I would thank him profusely (sometimes cut short by how tired I was) and only then put him under my pillow and fall asleep. apparently, this is the sort of cuteness that compells a person to squeak and grin. and when the doctor responded that way, I just found more stories to tell...
:> well, that's a few more things documented at least. it gives me hope. perhaps I will someday get to the point where I talk about "Saved." ...although what I'll say keeps changing as I wait. damn development.
off now to realize everything I forgot to remember.
~me
^do you think all sheep feel sheepish? because that would suck, and I don't think they do. but if you're a sheep and you feel specifically *un*-sheepish, wouldn't that lead to an identity crisis of sorts?