Just so we're clear...

I'm defining myself (and everyone else). Because I have other more pressing, important things to do, so of course I am occupying myself with the trivial.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vegetarian

Andrew was all fancy with his "pescatarian" claims. Well, I'm a lacto-ovo-pesco-pollo vegetarian. Ha. Take that.

Dhaval: Fruitarian who cheats by eating curly fries
Sarah: Vegan
Lisa: Macrobiotic
Dogs and Rabbits: Raw Food Diet

I find it interesting that the wikipedia article says nothing about labelling people who choose to refrain from eating vegatables. I think that's biased. Everyone deserves a label, including the people who wrote "Carrot juice is murder."

:-D

post #2 Adele's story

Adele stood on her tippytoes to peer over the edge of the table. Before her, shining white and glimmering, was The Cake. The French Blessing Cake that was only made once every 4 years. If she didn't get to taste its wonderful sweetness, she would have to wait all the way until she was 9!!! How could they possibly expect her to wait that long? But she was ushered off to bed, and when she woke the next morning, the party had gone and with it, the cake. How great was her disappointment! 4 years was a long time to expect a 5 year old to wait.

At first she cried. And cried and cried to see that the cake was gone. Then she tried to convince herself that the cake wasn't really gone, and that the grownups were just keeping it away from her for some reason. Finally, she accepted the fact that it was gone and wearily turned her attentions to waiting for the new cake to come in four years. Eventually, she nearly forgot that it had been there in the first place.

But then, one day, there it was. She could now see over the table, could even lean in very close to see the cake better. She was excited. She saw that this new cake was different from the former, that it had some new colors in the frosting, and extra filling inside. The filling was what intrigued her. It was a rare occasion to see a French Blessing Cake with filling. The Cake this year had filling because the new cook wanted to impress everyone with his skills. She looked again at the cake, with its fillings. Perhaps this time the grownups would let her taste that beautiful white fluffy cake. In sorrow, she was brought to her bed before the cake had been brought before the guests. In the morning, as she expected, the cake was gone, filling and all. She cried, just like last time, and expected that the process would be the same. Cry, deny, blame others, accept it, wait for a new one, forget the old one ever existed. But she discovered something. She discovered that this second time, the process was different.

She could not accept that the French Blessing Cake she had waited for was gone. She could not accept that the old one had never existed, or that she would wait patiently for the new one. She wondered where this change had come from... she wondered if perhaps it had been the fact that she was 9 instead of 5 this time, or perhaps that the cake had filling this time, or that she had had a better view of the cake, or maybe even just that it was the second time around. At any rate, she felt that her thoughts and memories were so occupied by the old cake, that the new one she knew would come when she was 13 would not be quite as interesting.

And in fact, it wasn't. It was beautiful, she would admit. But it was not for her. It had no filling to intrigue her, to spark her imagination. She was still interested in the one she'd seen when she was 9. She sat down in her bed that night, knowing the adults were eating the cake, and she realized she did not mind at all. She was still absorbed in the memory of that other beautiful cake.

"What does one do" she pondered, "when one cannot, no matter what the circumstances, let go of what one wants to bring back from the past?" When she becomes an adult, will she be offered a slice of a French Blessing Cake? Will she eat it? Or will she still be thinking of the cake she'd seen at 9 that had such exquisite filling?

Not sure where to start.

There's so much I could say... on so many different topics.

I'd rather not talk about going home, because it would inevitably lead to an update on the play, which I don't want to talk about. I think... I might be afraid to fail in this scenario. And that's bad. Adds tension to my life and mind and body.

I came from a (good) rehearsal, in decent spirits, and I went to jujitsu. As soon as I did, something told me, "I'm not ready to be checked out yet." But, they checked me out anyway, and determined that I'm not ready to test for Gokyu. Give it two more weeks, and a knowledge of the things I need to work on. Basically, my techniques are there. (In my mind I also need work on the names of techniques.) But there's something... mental that's missing. There's a lack of fire... an inability to take control of an attack. Which... I think is true of my life outside of jujitsu. Quite often, I am one of those corks bobbing in the ocean. The waves go somewhere, but the cork only goes up and down. It is not carried anywhere, and has no way of controlling where it goes anyway.

So... even though I didn't test yet, tonight somehow feels like a failure. I know its not, its an assessment, not the real test. But, I suppose the reason it feels like a failure is that the blackbelts have been telling me the same thing for the past year, "Fire, intent, take charge of the attack," and I have not listened. Occasionally, there would be moments of clarity, when I would. But ultimately, under stress, I could not take that control. I could not follow their advice. And that's what bothers me. That it is something I should have had hammered into me by now.

But, on the upside... I somehow by the grace of God managed to complete a bridgefall today. Not a stime disguised as a bridgefall, but a real, hop-and-go-over bridgefall. Unfortunately it was not the one I did while I was being checked out. That one sucked.

And now I'm kind of sore. In my body but also in spirit, because I have had a long workout of both of them. I went to Anissa's to hang out with her a little while, and talk turned to pet names when someone who will remain unnamed called her "dear." It got me thinking. How much should I value pet names?

Choosing not to indulge the interests of that little tangent... I'm going to write another little fiction piece. In a minute.

Jujitsu

So...

Thursday at jujitsu was technically my first day back after spring break. I went to jujitsu on Tuesday, but for obvious reasons I didn't do much. Thursday I went to kids class, had a good time with those kids, and then went downstairs for the colored belt class. I was happy, cause I didn't have my notebook, because Cara's checking it. Steve tested, so all the blackbelts were occupied which gave the rest of us a chance to review a lot of things we were having issues with. Mostly variations on stuff, which meant I got to use my imagination. And I ALMOST did a bridge fall, which was also very cool. And Steve was promoted to brown belt. Yaaay Steve. And then after class, I got to grapple with Scott, which was cool, because I learned so much about myself. With some of the other people I grapple with, I just do it for fun and practice. But Scott was determined to make me learn something. Which was good.

And now I'm home avoiding homework. So I'm even happier. Yaaay me.

Ok. That's all.

I'm falling apart

Hmm...

So, last week, my digestive tract went haywire... as in, when I eat food, my stomach says... "What? I don't want that. I want to do something cool like writing poetry. Why can't I be the cool part of the body?" And I was also extra sensitive in certain areas that hurt.

And this week, I figured out why. But what I didn't plan on was Tuesday. On Monday night I was a little crampy. But I felt fine on Tuesday. Tuesday morning, I ate breakfast and went to massage class. Then I rushed back to Douglass to model a costume for the Costume Rendering class. I ate about 3/4 of a blueberry muffin because I didn't have much time for anything else. I put the costume on and started the modelling session. About 10 minutes before I was done, I'm standing there thinking, Hmm its kinda warm in here. Then all of a sudden, Its really warm in here. My head feels tight. And what happened to the lights? I sat down in the middle of the session and suddenly, I can't really get a good breath of air. So the teacher said "Its ok, you're not the first person who's had that kind of reaction modelling. Go outside and get a drink of water." I go outside with the teacher's aide, and all of a sudden, the cramps started again. And I feel nauseous. The teacher took one look at me when I came back in and said, "Go change into your comfortable clothes, you're done for the day."

The elevator to the first floor was stuffy, and my knees buckled. By this time I'm shaking and the TA leads me into the costume shop, rips open a bag of oreos and tells me to get my sugar up. My mouth was so dry that I could only swallow two bites and I was worried I would throw it up. She came back from somewhere and led me to a teacher's office where there was a couch. I'm shaking from the pain of my uterus trying to turn itself inside out. (Sorry for whatever guys read this...) The TA unbuttoned the back of my dress (which was almost-but-not-quite a corset) and went to get my clothes from the changing room. While she was gone, I called Steve, who I knew was close by, at Anissa's studying, and asked him to come get me. He was there in two minutes. But I couldn't move because my cramps were so bad. Sad to say, they've been worse in the past. I know because on Tuesday, they didn't elicit tears, only exclamations like "OMG its coming in contractions I am SOOO never getting PREGNANT!" I think I scared Steve. But yeah, from what I hear, women say the weirdest things when they're in labor.

When I could stand up, Steve brought me back to Anissa's so I could nap and he could keep an eye on me (Anissa was in class, otherwise they both would have watched me like hawks). I guess that's all he could have done anyway though... if I ever get like that, there's nothing much anyone can do about it except watch or maybe do some accupressure points. And Cara's right... that's a little awkward.

I skipped class that day, so I hope we didn't do anything important. And that night I went to jujitsu but didn't work out. It was the beginner's class, so I just walked around helping people. I was ok until the last 10 minutes when I started to feel achy and dizzy. Very mild dizziness. The achy I think was just from fatigue. The dizziness went away when I went to the student center and ate some chicken. I was hoping for tofu, cause rumor has it tofu has more protein than chicken. That, and I was craving tofu... and soy is supposed to balance estrogen levels. But... the chicken was sufficient.

Wednesday, yesterday, I was mostly fine, with moments where I just stood up too quickly. That happens any time, regardless of what happened on Tuesday. But today I'm still having 2 or 3 second dizzy spells, and I'm not sure about what's going on anymore. Cause normally I'm not this affected by estrogen. I am, however, somewhat glad that estrogen affects me physically rather than mentally or emotionally. I have enough stuff playing with my mind, I'm glad that estrogen hasn't jumped on the bandwagon.

But... I'm gonna go eat something. Just to be safe.

they had iaido in the bible.

To quote my away message, "grumble. the female body is stoooopiiiidd"

I couldn't figure out why my body was falling apart. Then at the computer lab I started cramping and then the lightbulb went on.

But my teacher made me feel a little better. I'm going to write out the script from class today, since the teacher is such an actor. The lecture was on the book of judges, but basically he acted out the story of Ehud.

Robertson: (I'm paraphrasing here to get to the good parts.) So the people did what was right in their own eyes, and the Lord allowed King Elgon to come in and conquer them and they were oppressed for years until the people cried out to God. AHHHHHHH. (He has just let out a bloodcurdling yell.) Uh. I better make sure no one is sending for the EMT squad. (Sneaks to the door and pokes his head out.) No no we're ok. (Closes the door.) So uh. Yeah, the people cried out to Yahweh and Yaweh heard their cry. Let's all have a corporate cry to God. Uh. You think thats a bad idea? I wonder what people will do.

Student: I don't think its a problem.

R: really? Hmm yeah cause if anyone comes running you all can explain the story of judges and then it will be ingrained in your heads and then you'll do better on the final. hmm no lets do a silent cry to Yahweh. Ready, One Two Three.

All: (whisper) AHHH

I think about silent kiais and my mind wanders to jujitsu. When I return to the lecture, Robertson is just saying:

R: Ehud was a left handed judge! If you're a southpaw in this class, raise your left hand!

Four people raise their hands.

R: Great! That's more than usual. But that's still... let's see, 48 in the class, that's less than 10%

I start writing numbers on my notes. I'm not a math major in any way but something tells me 12%.

R: So, King Eglon was a FAAAT man, in fact eglon sounds like the Hebrew word for young calf. But he wasn't a calf or cow, he was a BULL. He was a BIIIIG bull.

He sprawls on the desk, semireclined, with his arms out resting on invisible fat. Jumps up to play Ehud.

R: And Ehud made a sword that was a cubit long. How many know what a cubit is? (No answer.) Its the length from the edge of your elbow to your fingertips. So, each ancient isrealite had a different cubit cause arms are different lengths. See? (Compares with someone in the class.) My cubit's longer than yours.

He goes around the class room to some of the guys and they all compare their cubits. Typical males. Sigh.

R: So Ehud went before the King saying "I have a SECRET gift for you" and the king-

He turns around and sprawls on the desk again.

R: says SILENCE and sends all the guards and servants out of the room. He's kinda greedy. And then Ehud-

Jumps of the desk and turns to play Ehud.

R: jumps out and STABS Eglon with his cubit sword. WHOOSH! (Makes stabbing motion so I think of Andrew and Cara and iaido blackbelts.) And then Eglon's fat covers the sword GLUB GLUB GLUB and Ehud lets go. And then! Guess what?! Eglon's BOWELS EXPLODED! PFFFTTTBBLLLLL! (Makes Cyrus' spewing motion from iaido.)

So yeah... that kinda brightened my day a little.

The other thing that brightened it was that I found myself on Livingston and passed a Magnolia tree whose blooms were just beginning to crack open. YAAY spring, especially magnolia trees hehehe.

My mom and dad had their first kiss under a magnolia tree in Hackensack or Morristown I forget which. I think Morristown. Near the Iron Horse restaurant or pub or whatever it is. Anyway that reminds me of one other thing.

I was thinking about how I've dated people... and done cute romantic things. But somehow, very few of those things resembled a date in the sense that people talk about dates. Like getting dressed up, date coming to pick you up and take you someplace special involving dinner and some form of entertainment. A pre-planned date, not spontaneous. If I ever do that kind of date again-

mmm fond memories of the first of that kind :-)

-then I think it would be a trip to see Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. Just two people. It would be fun to see a Broadway show with friends. But Phantom... I think I would pick that as a perfect date. Or even almost perfect.

The reason this is on my mind is Anissa was asking. *insert joke here* So that's a clearer definition of my answer.

Ok I've cleared my mind. I'm gonna go do some real homework instead of recounting my class adventure.

More fiction

Charlotte looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. Was he serious? She couldn't tell. It had been such a long time. She kept walking, he continued as well. She stopped at her car, jiggled the keys, and handed them to him.

'What's this?"

"You want to drive." It was a statement, not a question. She pushed them into his hand.

He pushed them back. "Its your car, you have a license, you can drive. I trust you."

Her eyes slanted a bit more. "You always used to say you could never handle being a passenger with a driver who hadn't had their license more than a year."

He looked at her a moment, trying to figure out this person she had become. "We were 17 then. All our friends were insane. Of course I would say that. You're older. You're mature. You've got a head on your shoulders like they never had. You drive. I'm ok with that."

She got in the car, he followed. "I'm still human. I'm still inexperienced. I'm going to make a mistake today that will scare you. But I have to. That's how I learn."

He didn't need to say anything in response, but wanted to acknowledge her. Very simply, "Okay."

AHHHHHHHHHH

I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW!!
I KNOW IT ALREADY.
STOP TELLING ME THAT.
YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUB SALT IN THE BLEEDING MESS.
God, just leave me alone. No don't, I need you here. But... I don't know what I want anymore.

Things used to be so simple. Just... 5 years ago. 5 years ago, I was directing a dance for Easter. Now I'm directing a whole play. 5 years ago I had not yet entered the world of Male. Now I'm lost in a whole new universe, wondering what loyalty my heart holds. 5 years ago, I was preparing to be rebaptized. To declare to the world that I'd strayed after my first baptism and that I wanted to return to a life where nothing matters but You. And now... I can't always seem to find You. I know You're there. But... I'm not in the right place.

I'm tired of the what if game. Where are You?

poem

Two year old chocolate.
The taste of old sugar,
And fatty oils gone bad.

Something sweet that still tastes sweet
And yet still has the taste of something
That will not last forever.

A memory of a past life.
Something sweet I once used to live
Dug up out of the sock drawer

Found buried with a bunch of jelly bellies
That are now cold rocks of corn syrup
And mints that won't ever freshen a mouth.

Who gave me that chocolate?
And why did everything go stale?
And when sugar goes bad, where does that sweet taste go?

Does it still deserve an attempt at enjoying it?
Do I eat it for old times' sake?
Or throw it out and forget the memory ever existed?

Haven't written in a while.

Its spring break. So I've been busy with my homework ICCCKKKKK....

But I just had a dream where I got angry. I've never been that angry before, in a dream or in real life. And the odd thing is, I was angry at my mom, which is even stranger. And it made me realize I still have feelings for... yeah. This dream was kind of emotionally draining. So I'm a little dead this afternoon. At the same time, it was so satisfying to be able to feel those emotions and have complete control over them.

Anyway, if you want to know more, ask me in person, cause I don't really feel like posting the whole thing up here.

But I'm so drained.

cliff jumping

So, I sent the email that has been simmering and evolving in the back of my mind for quite some time now. It was such a release to send it. I'm sorta scared of the outcome.

I think I need to go let out months' worth of emotions in a good cry. Good night.