The Red Devil

So seriously folks, what the hell happened to summer? Tomorrow is September already! But...on the bright side...I made it to 30!!

So, where did I think I would be by 30 ten years ago?

Well, I would have thought I would have my stupid piece of paper by now. I also hoped I would have made it to Paris by now. And learned how to drive.

I guess that isn't so bad. I get my piece of paper next year. And I never really put my mind to get to Paris, only dreamed it. I know that if I really decided to save the money and do it, I would be there within a year or two. As for driving, Amy keeps bugging me about it, so I imagine I will get around to it very soon.

Ten years ago, I could only imagine that I would be the person I am today. I was a very repressed and shy person most of the time, lacking in any confidence whatsoever. I thought I was ugly and unlovable. I used the number of sexual encounters I had to measure my self-esteem and my longest relationships were barely 2 months old. The last 10 years haven't necessarily been all that kind, but they have been eye-opening and I wouldn't trade them for anything. My twenties have actually enabled me to be the full sort of person I always wanted to be and now I feel so much more able to roll with what life throws at me. I feel ready to finally push my intellect to its limits. Ten years ago, I wanted to be known, to be great. Today,I want to be humble.

I will be excited to see how the next 10 years goes. Who will I be? I guess in thinking about that question, I am confronted with another question. Who do I want to be? Everything - every habit, every decision, every thought and emotion will shape my life, my identity, and my perspective. Some days, I feel like both the driver and the passenger.

In any case, I am glad that I was able to share my birthday with so many wonderful people who used my birth as an excuse to party down and have fun. I am most thankful for the people in my life and I love you all very dearly. (even though you are all a bunch of whipper-snappers!)

Tristen just came to visit me at the Pride Center and I jokingly asked if she brought me any soy milk (a running joke/request). Since she lives only a couple blocks away, she promptly turned around and went to go get it. I love my frineds! Now I can have some tea and be a proper lesbian. Lol.

Anyone else working on campus who could use a fun surprise visit and a treat? We should do a rotating exchange.

So I'm sitting on this large rock in the middle of a small creek on Saturday in the woods about 10 miles inland from the coast trying to meditate. I am restless, ansy and unable to keep still. I'm puzzled because the woods usually have a very serene affect on my mind and for some reason I cannot relax. Then there is this damn "fly" that keeps buzzing around me and landing on various part of my arms and face. I can usually stay still when flying things decide to be my friend when I mediate. I in fact pride myself for my self-control in allowing the flying creatures to just hang out with me during my meditations.

But no, this time the "fly" wants more from me than to just hang out. I feel this pricking sensation on my arm and with horror realize that this fly is vampiric in nature. It wants my blood. In a flash, my current general frustration with people gets manifested in an urgent desire to fend off this tiny enemy and defend myself from its selfish motivations, namely to take something from me. I don't want to give it anything, dammit! And so goes my fighting (resisting) spirit.

Abandoning any hopes of meditation, I spend the next 20 minutes battling my adversary for ownership of my body. It's mine, it's mine...

This is further complicated by the fact that I have this ideal of unwavering generousity (one which I almost never live up to but very much admire)and part of me really wants to be at peace with this annoying insect.

I take a breath. The fly lands on my hand. I look at it closely, examing its yellowy eyse, shimmering wings, it's scary pinchers and long mouth. I realize that it is quite beautiful. It is not my enemy. I peer closely at the fly as it digs into my skin and draws my blood. I think I must owe it some debt from a past life and am swept away with a benevolent wish to repay it. As the fly finishes its work, I wish it well as a general feeling of calmness and serenity pass over me and I feel at peace with the world again.

We all give and take from one another. Sometimes it is welcome and sometimes it is not. Sometimes we are selfish, greedy with ourselves and other people, thinking that something or someone belongs to us. What is that famous saying, "everything is on loan." Nothing belongs to anyone. It is that fierce resistance to giving, that desperation to keep things for ourselves that creates so much unhappiness and stress.

Funny how it took a little fly to remind me of all that.

Sometimes I feel like I am really strange. Strange, indeed.

I'm going camping this weekend with Amy! Yay!! Tristen and Gretchen were supposed to go with us, then Tristen suddenly remembered that her brother's wedding is this weekend (funny how one would forget something like that, hehe...) and Gretchen suddenly got a job. So I guess Amy and I will just have to find some way to pass the time on our own...

Also, I have this reallly interesting project to work on for the LGBT Outreach office. I am going through old microfilms of Barometers from the 60's to present to find any articles about queer folk. I spent an hour at the library yesterday looking at news articles about "Red China," the "race issue," and those darn "Soviets." I started getting that very special tingling feeling doing this kind of historical research. I love self-directed learning and school has actually been sucking my passion for knowledge dry with all the BS classes I have been forced to take over the last year. Well, you all know my rant about all this.

While I did not find any articles specifically mentioning the queer community yesterday, I did run across an article about this male student who was attacked by these guys throwing glass bottles at him from their car. That attack immediately led me to question why such a mindless attack would take place. I began to wonder if this kid was (what Steven calls) a "Sissy Mary La-La" and the "macho" guys were harassing him because of it. Was it a gay bashing? I think that it is very likely something like it, even if he wasn't gay, I bet he wasn't all that "masculine."

In any case, this project is very intriguing to me and I am excited to continue it. Ultimately I hope to put together a scrapbook of sorts that goes back several decades. I will remember to write down some of the funnier headlines for you all.

23 days left of my twenties...definately ready to start a new chapter in my life...