Whoever Dances is One with the Universe

We just found out that my uncle has prostate cancer, which is what both his father and my grandfather died of. The doctors think that because he is pretty young and they caught it pretty early he should be fine, but I know he is really nervous about it anyway. I would really like to solicit prayers and good-wishes for him, since he is basically the living incarnation of Good Guy Greg and truly wonderful person.

I finished my commission -- I was actually rather pleased, as it was ordered by someone who contacted the gallery that dropped my stuff because it wasn't selling, so for revenge I bored the director of the gallery by talking about pig breeds for half an hour when I handed it in.

I'll be back at school on Sunday, which I'm looking forward to. Real internet again! It's so exciting!

I'm still figuring out this DreamWidth thing. I will get it someday!

This summer, as I'm pretty sure I wrote, my advisor's son was killed by a drunk driver. I wrote him a card at the time to tell him how sorry I was; I didn't really know what to say (what do you say to a parent who's just lost his child?), but I had been working with a lot of people at the time who had lost children, and I wanted to say something.

He didn't say anything about it when I got back to school, so I really just assumed that he didn't want to -- I know when people comment on my really emotional posts I rarely know what to say, and usually end up not answering, but always being glad on the comfort that people offer, so I figured it was like that. He's mentioned his son once or twice in class, and I always feel sad, but certainly don't say anything.

Anyway, to-day I checked my mail for about the first time in a month, and there was a note from him thanking me. And he included a picture of the beach where they scattered his son's ashes. And I just stood there in the post office and cried, because -- I can't imagine. I can't imagine how big and terrible it would be. Scattering my grandparents' ashes was, in a way, easy to do, because they both lived long, full lives and I had plenty of time to make peace with their deaths. But to lose your oldest child right after he'd graduated from college, when you hadn't seen him in a year, and to have to give him back to the earth -- I just can't even begin to quantify how much grief you might feel. I just can't.

This kind of thing makes everything, especially me, feel really small. I wish I could do so much more to make things better, but my own power is so limited. In a way it makes me know that hospice is the right place for me, and in a way I feel bad even saying that because this isn't about me at all.

I guess what I wanted to say here was how moved I am that he took the time to write me a note and share the picture with me, which he didn't have to do at all, and I'm just so sorry.

Tuesday's New York Times science section had an article this week on old people getting plastic surgery. That, coupled with my post from Tuesday, has led me to a rather icky discovery of something I did admittedly kind of already know. Which is that we kind of have this ideal, in America -- I don't know how it is in other cultures, having dog-paddled but never really been immersed in any other than American -- that old people are supposed to be adorable grandparents.

Old ladies are supposed to be tiny and do knitting, or fat and do baking, and old men are supposed to whittle things and dispense pithy pieces of wisdom and fix neighbourhood bikes. They're allowed to be lonely, but only so they can adopt small children as honourary grandchildren or be used to shame us generally into spending more time with our own old people. If they're bad-tempered or put their makeup on all over their faces or have to wear Attends or sag in random places, we turn them into the subjects of honestly very mean-spirited comedy.

And I'm not trying to say that everybody needs to go out and adopt some isolated nursing-home inmate, but really I think it's wrong both to idealise old age or to make fun of it. Idealising it removes us from all the problems that come with getting old and also makes it look like people who don't fit the ideal are defective -- hence, I think, things like old-person plastic surgery. I mean, Jesus Christ, this one woman in the article spent seventy-seven thou on facelifts to get rid of wrinkles and implants to cope with sagging breasts. She's eighty. At eighty, people should not have to focusing on this kind of thing. I cannot even count all the better ways to spend that money to enrich one's own life or someone else's. And at the same time this whole "lol let's as a culture shame old people and send them the message that once you are old your usefulness has ended and you should keep out of sight" thing is absolutely heinous.

The thing is, old people are just like everybody else, in that they deserve to be treated with respect. Whether they bake you apple pies and tell stories of their children, or have Alzheimer's and scream at you and refuse to bathe or -- like one old lady I visited while I was working -- have to be talked out of suicide. I've really kind of run the spectrum of old person personality types; I've had an adorable old man who wanted me to meet his cat and showed me around his house and called his wife "Mom", I've had a hilarious old lady with MS who was wheelchair-bound and showed me how to lift her from her chair to her toilet, I had an old man who was totally bedridden and with whom I communicated through really patchy hand signals, and an old lady who threatened to punch me while I was giving her her bath. And every single one of them deserved my respect and the best care I could give them, by virtue of being human beings. And I really hope that's how I've carried myself throughout this summer, and how I do for the rest of my life, because that's not just true of old people, it's true of everyone.

Which is not to say it wasn't hilarious when my one old gentleman had me burn a bonfire made of used Depends, or when Audrey (my Wednesday client) stole the dated brick from a condemned schoolhouse down the street from her apartment (actually, Audrey always does something funny when I visit. ♥ She makes me squee).

In other, non-soapboxy news, I stopped by Michael's to-day to enjoy my new and undoubtedly brief period of solvency. It's been about a whole week since I was over, so they already have about eleven-thousand new products in the scrapbooking section, and I was amazed and ... hilarified? amused is too gentle a word, I think. Hilarified to find that you can now buy adhesive metal gears and keys for your scrapbooking or cardmaking projects. At this point, I'm starting to think that 'steampunkery' should be a word in much the same way 'fuckery' is. I may start using it. "What kind of steampunkery is this?" I will say, staring in disbelief at the fact that you can now buy tiny watch faces as embellishments. They discontinued my goddamn copper pearlised dots that I use for eyes, but they've started producing tiny glitter-covered top hats and monocles that are already adhesive-backed.

Naturally I eschewed this silliness and instead managed to spend seventy-five dollars (!!!!) on scrapbook paper and cake glitter, and that embellished tape I've had my eye on for about six months now. >_>

I also went to Target and discovered that it is nearly impossible to find a black, wire-free bra in 38B. Did you know that there are a lot of black, wire-free bras in the nursing section? There are. There are a lot fewer in regular. But I got to embarrass a teenage male cashier by buying bras and underpants, and I found The Most Beautiful Scarf in the World, which I purchased because of its aesthetic qualities and also I love scarves and also it helps me pretend winter is NOW DAMMIT.

To-morrow I work at the library, and Saturday we are going to our vacation in the mountains. I look forward to sitting in the sun by the lake doing crossword puzzles and reading all day, as well as the greased-watermelon water polo that has become something of a family tradition. Also Maria's birthday! I finished her calender and everything. :D

I would say that to-day was a success.

1. What do you do when someone you consider a pretty good friend keeps talking about stuff you have explicitly said is triggering to you, even when you have asked her to stop? (i.e. you said "ilu but please stop telling me about how much weight you're losing, how much fat is in the food I eat, etc" and she said "but I want you to be healthy" and went on talking about it? even after you said "hi EATING DISORDER"?)

2. On Celexa now. Haven't picked up the scrip yet, though.

3. Have three papers left for the semester (1 3-pager, 1-5/7-pager, 1 10/15-pager), three exams, and a story to write. Was going to do the short paper to-day, but feeling kind of too depressed atm, so maybe I will go watch bad horror for a bit. Thursday is LAS, so we get a day off--good time to get stuff done. As is to-morrow.

Bleh.

Spiritual renewal comes in the fact that my mhari is the best mhari in the whole world (that's right, it's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours) and sent me the best box in the whole world.

Also I sold ten of my pieces at the art gallery, which = money, and I was accepted into the India winter break Conflict Resolution study abroad programme, which is a three-week programme monitored by two professors I really like, which makes me feel a lot safer about it.

And I kind of hate my Comm professor but I realised I'm not the only one who feels that way, and I realised that my Sosh professor is really exemplified by this metaquote, which makes me feel a lot better; I really like understanding people's motivations, both from an analytic point of view and because it helps me brain that the issue is not me personally (since I am extremely prone to interalise and personalise everything). My Sosh professor is really really quick to call things racism, but she is also a black woman living in a predominantly white central Pennsylvania neighbourhood, so there's probably been a whole lot of accidental tramping on a broken foot. That said, it was frustrating that she repeatedly accused Southerners of hating Jews and being anti-Semitic (imo, it's more that Jewish folks tend to live in big Northern cities, which are exactly the kind of environment Southern folks tend to distrust, although I grant you that there is probably a religious undercurrent as well for a number of folks), as well as the fact that she pretty much said that her white PhD'd neighbour was scared of her for being a black woman despite the fact that the only interaction she described was them saying hi to each other in the morning on their respective walks, and that this fear was only alleviated when she told the woman that she was also a PhD when they met in the grocery store and woman was all "HI! :D We're neighbours and I've totally never said hi, I'm Dr. So-and-so". From her description there was absolutely no evidence of racism (or any reason why the woman would think she was the maid for some theoretical people who lived in her house, or be scared of her because sometimes she drank a bottle of beer on her front porch), but obviously there may have been stuff she left out because it seemed obvious to her. ANYWAY. My point is, there were a lot of assumptions made in to-day's class, but I feel like I kind of get the context for those assumptions, at least to a degree (Sosh professor is from the Bronx until a few years ago, which probably doesn't help with not being suspicious of white people--o hey, I made an assumption of my own), so that helped me be less frustrated.

And I talk a lot about sociological things, ohai. Just wait until my ramble on the subject of Why Is My Cross Okay But That Dude's Shirt With A Bible Verse Makes You Mad?, coming shortly to a self-indulgent livejournal post near you.

Anyway, I'm feeling pretty good for now, although I really need to edit Maria's logic paper.

A few things:

1. I posted this on my facebook, but I will repost it because I like fussing about religion. hackedirl posted this image to-day, but see, I don't thing it really counts as a hack, because it basically IS a paraphrase of John 7:37-38 ("Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, “Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.”") I think this might make me an appalling nerd (not least because when I saw it I immediately command-T'd a new tab, popped open my bible search engine, entered the verse, and did a comparison). But really!

2. To-day (or yesterday, whatever) is National Coming Out Day. I came out as bisexual to some people, because that is the easy way of putting it, and as a biromantic Kinsey 4.5 to facebook, because that is what I tell people in real life, but in actual fact I am probably a panromantic polyamorous homosexual, so isn't that nice. Coming Out Day is not my best day ever.

3. To-morrow (or to-day) is AVED (Asexuality Awareness and Education Day)! Since I have at least four friends who are ace, and I'm pretty sure my sister is, I would like to take this moment to say that you are required to do a shot of whatever you have handy any time someone asks "does asexual mean they BUD?". It wasn't funny the first time, it's not funny the umpty-squillionth. Just for reference.

4. Forgot to go to the doctor's to-day, migraine has come back to punish me. I am rather annoyed. Anyway I have two midterm exams this week, one in Accounting and one in Comm, and sadly I think I'm going to be fine with the Accouting and fail the Comm, because my Comm professor is a very cheerful madwoman. Also, haven't gotten back my Sosh midterm because the professor had a death in the family (which is an extremely good reason not to hand back midterms) and I get my ConRes one to-morrow, but the upside of all this is that the only class I currently know my grade in is Psych, and I'm getting a C+. So that's all very depressing, but at least I've only had to take one panic attack pill so far since getting them two weeks ago.

5. Despite a lot of these points being kind of whiny, I'm in a really good mood. I spent the evening with Liz watching Paranormal Activity, which is a deliciously terrible film, and I borrowed her Nutella to make sandwiches. Now if I can just get some decent sleep I think things will be okay.

6. FALL BREAK IS FRIDAY. I am taking Liz, Amanda, Joyce, and isjusterin home with me. Tres, tres excited, especially because the first two are from Long Island and Joyce is from city-Taiwan. I am hoping to culture-shock the hell out of this weekend. It will be great.

Fff here is the letter I sent to Res Life. I am hoping it is basically professional:

Mr. [redacted],

I am writing regarding the issue of [redacted], the transgendered woman who is currently not allowed to use the female restrooms on campus. I really would like to express that I think this is appalling. [Redacted] may not be biologically female, but she is attempting to transition into a lifestyle that is appropriate to the gender she identifies with. Just as I would find it incredibly uncomfortable to be told that I was not a real woman and could only use male restrooms and showers, she is uncomfortable, and is feeling that there is a sense of stigma and insufficiency beginning to surround her and her identity. Transgendered folks are already marginalised by society and told that they are not "real" men and women because they don't happen to be lucky enough to have a biological sex that matches their gender identity. When we support that marginalisation and discriminatory culture we enhance feelings of shame and inability to fit in, and make people put their lives on hold while we--the privileged people in the conflict--argue over whether or not we are willing to concede civil rights to people who deserve them by virtue of being people.

Please consider that while it seems like a small issue to us cis folks because we can use whatever bathroom we want without even having to think about it, to a trans person this is a really big deal--a part of their identity is being completely denied. Small things like this are what lead to escalations in the larger society when we label people's differences with negative connotations. I know that Res Life is trying to resolve the issue appropriately, but I think that as members of a purportedly forward-thinking college and as decent human beings we cannot just "hide" our trans students off-campus or pretend that their gender identity is irrelevant. [Redacted] deserves the rights and consideration of any other student, woman, and person.

Thank you for your time,
[Soujin]

I think this is okay? I am bad at writing angry letters. Incidentally, the student mentioned in this e-mail is currently facing suspension for using the women's restrooms/showers, and that Res Life has tried to fix the problem by offering her off-campus housing, which she feels would be not actually solving the problem. Also I think I am hoping that this letter reflects both some familiarity with transgendered issues and the fact that I am taking Interpersonal Comm and Conflict Resolution this semester (I want to be able to communicate!).

Anyway, it took me a whole damn hour to write and that is why I am not in bed like I want to be, so now that OTHER PEOPLE'S PROBLEMS HAVE INCONVENIENCED ME!!11!, I am going to try to get some sleep for once. >_> To-morrow is poetry day! yay!

This evening I decided, for reasons unclear, that the way to be a stellar houseguest would be to have a major OCD meltdown all over mhari's room. The only reason we are still friends is because she has a remarkable lot of patience and because her mother threw me out when the room was only about fifty percent cleaned.

On the other hand, we went to the beach on Monday, where I found this lovely specimen of crabhood and sat around in tidepools.

I'm feeling kind of weird--I'm not really sure where I am, mentally. I feel very lonely, in a way, like I'm terrified of everyone forgetting about me over the summer while I'm not around (for example Liz, and the_chloroplast), and also people online, especially people who I want to be good friends with but am for-ever having anxiety over (like tulipmonster, who I want to like me but who I am convinced sits around wondering when I will die already). I feel like I could be in a better state of mind, but on the other hand I'm not depressed, so--idk, be grateful for what I have? In the general scheme of things, anxiety is easier to deal with than depression (for me).

I'm also having a lot of anxiety nightmares and a lot of just random like--lying awake at night thinking of all the things that could potentially go disastrously wrong. Like I sit in my bed and think about all the ways my father could die (I think this is being triggered by Nana and Granddad just dying, and by mhari's father dying, because he was pretty much my second dad, and it's made my anxious self hypersensitive to the possibility, I think?), or how I don't want to drive any more because I'm afraid I'll hit one of the cats, or how if I pick up Perci I could drop him and he's so delicate he'd just shatter. I will run through a good twenty or so of these scenarios just while I'm trying to fall asleep, and then I'll have even more anxiety because I'm worrying about whether worrying about stuff will make it come true. And not all of it is stuff that's grounded in reality, either--I think about how the house could collapse or I start to wonder whether I left the stove on and the house is going to burn down in the night or-- And so on, ad finitum, pretty much constantly. And any little noise or anything of that sort jerks me wide awake because I immediately connect it with one of the scenarios I've been worrying about and then I have to calm myself down until I can relax enough to sleep, and it's driving me crazy.

I've also started getting the daily headaches again, and that whole mess has been going off and on for over a year now, of terrible headaches in this icky swimmy place between a normal headache and a migraine (I've only had like two true migraines, and these are definitely not that bad), which last all day and cannot be chased off by painkillers. The problem with them is that I end up taking a lot more aspirin than is good for my system in an attempt to dull them at least. I'm starting to think that I should talk to a doctor possibly. <--and this of course is triggering my anxiety even further (what if I have a brain tumour? what if I have encephalitis? &c &c &c).

tl;dr my anxiety is worse than usual and my head hurts. Also, I like to whine.

But I do like it here, and I'm sorry I have to go home on Thursday. mhari is pretty much my favourite person ever.

I'm sitting in Maria's classroom here at Del Val, watching Food, Inc. We've only watched the chicken part so far, but I am never eating again.

Just so you know.

Edit: In the corn part now. AHHHHH.

Edit: Almost done with the bit on salmonella/e.coli/feedlots. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE HELL, AMERICA.

I am dealing with two things right now; one is really annoying and the other is probably a good thing. So. I will make navel-gazing livejournal posts.

First of all, I am currently holding the position of being one of the only religious people in my group of friends. For the most part this isn't a problem. I am not the kind of Christian who has an interest in the conversion of others, and in general my friends are not the kind of people who look down on Christians. But--and this is the thing that is really frustrating me--we do not appear to have established that just because I find some religious humour humourous I will not get offended if people make offencive religious jokes.

I mean, I don't want to seem humourless and unable to deal with the issues inherent in my religion. But there are jokes that are funny and there are jokes that are outright upsetting to me, and a couple of my friends are apparently neither able to make that distinction nor to read my body language and interpret from it that I am not finding the situation funny. It's really awkward, too, because I don't want to get up in anybody's face and say "Hey, excuse me, that's not funny to me," but I also don't feel comfortable listening to some of this stuff. And God knows I have tried just leaving the table, but, again, apparently my body language is not clear enough, because these same people are not making that connexion.

Moreover, beyond humour, I am dealing with the fact that a lot of people are kind of bringing their grievances with Christianity to me (I think as a combination of my being religion and having a Judeo-Christian religious major [for anybody who's not aware, I changed my major to pre-seminary last semester!]), and expecting me to answer bigtime philosophical and religious questions and discrepancies within Christianity, and then having one of two reactions: either reacting as if my explanation is not good enough and as if, since my explanation isn't good enough, I should accept the inherent pointlessness of my religion and admit that it is stupid; or immediately countering all my explanations with Biblical studies that I already know about and treating me as though I know nothing about religion despite the fact that it is, you know, my major.

I haven't hit anybody yet, but I am starting to get really, really twitchy.

(And this isn't even touching on the people--not friends, luckily--who have expressed the opinion that because I am Christian and hope to be a priest at some future point, I am obligated to hate gay people, liberal people, minority groups, and sex, and also that it is not possible for me to secretary of the gay/straight alliance here on campus [which I am] or to believe in scientific theories like evolution [which I do], and that it is funny to make offencive religious comments solely to be offencive, which isn't actually offencive to me because I am not invested in them. >_> The reason it bothers me when my friends do it is because they're my friends.)

The other thing that I want to navelgaze about is ( going under a cut for ED triggers )

Also also: I managed to find a temporary therapist until mine comes back. She seems nice. We have our first meeting Tuesday. She got my name right on the first try! Best of all, she is FREE. Ha ha ha.

Also also also, I bought myself a Bruce Springsteen CD. It was only five dollars! >_>