part one

a memory, 1999

my mother is sitting next to me in the car, driving. i'm a youngun just starting to be aware of BODY HAIR. my best friend shaves her legs and i am ashamed that i don't yet because i'm convinced that the girls who sit behind me and whisper are whispering about me (even though my leg hair was and has always been basically invisible). i'm afraid to even ask about shaving because that would be admitting that i even have leg hair in the first place. my mother - the image of a southern femme with her tan legs, big permed hair, dark red lipstick - is unaware of her part in the internal battle within me.

my mother doesn't shave her legs above her knees, so against her tan lies a downy coat of blonde hair that disappears under the hem of her shorts. the hairs are curly but calm, neither short nor long, dense like a suburban lawn.

i'm 11, and i think it's gross. i tell her i think it is weird. those are my words. "that's weird, ma," i tell her. "why don't you shave your whole leg?" and she looks at me, eyebrows raised over her sunglasses. "i like how it looks," she says. my memory is conflicted, because i remember in that moment that her reaction meant she didn't give a shit. also in my memory is that she didn't have that downy coat the following summer.

now, i think about it and am irritated by the insecure asshole child i was. then, i only saw what i imagined my friends would see and judge: d rene's bizarre mom with the hairy legs and no-bra. now, i think about her hairy legs and our complicated relationship and i wish that, just once, i had rested my head in her lap to feel it on my face. ma, if only i could grow leg hair thick like yours. so lush, and soft, and oh how it shone golden in the texas summer.

jbdb

moving to baltimore on monday with charm city and there's a huge part of me that is very excited and ready, but right now i am just sad. my room is sorta almost packed and i'm listening to robyn which is pretty ridiculous and i puked a while ago from either nerves or acid-tummy. who knows. the sky is getting dark and it's making me panic.

i really want to take a shower but the hot water heater went off, again, so i have to wait an hour after i reset it. this has been a plague upon our house all summer, where the hot water heater randomly turns itself off. the first time, we called the super, she sent over her brother, and he did some magic in the basement for us. or so we thought. after it happened 4 or 5 more times, the brother agreed to show us how to do it ourselves (instead of, you know, fixing it) where previously he had refused saying it really was a better idea for him to do it himself. so we follow him into the basement, which is mad creepy by the way, and he says: "this one, on the right, is your house. see how it says #15 on it. follow the power cord, like this," as he moves the flashlight beam, "to the outlet." he proceeds to unplug it, then plug it back in, and the heater starts up again. it was that easy.

my housemate and i said goodbye, twice, and after each time i cried pretty helplessly for a while. i'm even crying now! i'm such a softie. guthrie and i haven't known each other for years but i'm still very sad to leave our house, aka the homestead, and a friendship that i feel did not have nearly enough time. our schedules this summer were so like ships passing in the night that i regret not making more time for just hangin out with them... and even though i know we will see each other soon, it's really more the symbolism than anything else. saying goodbye to people that i've been through so much with, who stuck with me and i with them. it makes me so sad that i can't even wax anything about it. it just is what it is. i usually spend more time on my blog entries, making them interestingly written and less like a stupid captain's log, but i just can't right now y'all.


maybe someday we'll actually do karaoke to 'somethin like that' by tim mcgraw.

brought to you by the letters A and P

so this is how my afternoon went after i got home from work: first i laid in bed and didn't do anything but read everything the internet has to say and was surprised to realize that i was in the dark cause it had been gradually getting darker but i hadn't noticed. then i was grossed out by how lazy that is and got up to Be Productive, i.e. feed myself or clean my room, ideally both, and instead drank some RC cola out of the bottle in my underwear and thought about how tasty a sandwich would be but decided to have a photoshoot with the cat and write a blog post instead.


this summer is not as hot as last summer when i was in new york city but it's still fucking hot, y'all. most of my time is spent at the ice cream shop where i work, swimming, taking cold showers, and finding the exact position of my fan for maximum breeze. it's a good life. i have a lot of time to get in trouble and a lot of time to do nothing. at night i watch arnold palmer the cat purrsue (!) a fruitless relationship with owl cat from Outside, who comes every night to sit on the banister next to my window and they mournfully meow at each other and i feel bad for standing in the way of what could be a beautiful relationship but damn. owl cat is creepy. (owl cat is called owl cat cause he has black spots right below his eyes so at night / in low lighting he looks like his eyes are fucking huge and totally black.)

anyway, the point of this thing is that now i've done something and maybe will go on to do more things! like play lasers with the cat or other things with the cat since i'm obsessed.

dedicated to the few

a lot of people talk about how great facebook is for reuniting with people who have fallen by the wayside over the years - former classmates, estranged relatives, whatever - but it does not help at all with the people who you sometimes miss, but have burned bridges with. when that kid who taunted you mercilessly in middle school friends you, saying "fuck off asshole" and clicking "deny" feels good and is easy. but what about those people, those "friends," who you can still stalk and check up on, but would never ever let them know about it?

the people who have been significant in my life that i now intentionally no longer talk to are a blessed few. for one of them, it was my own decision that i am (usually) glad i made. another, it was her decision to cut ties with me for what i imagine was self-preservation, hurt, or not knowing how to deal. i can't say for sure because, well, she cut ties with me. there was one i ceremoniously un-friended from facebook and i doubt that he ever even realized it.

i wonder sometimes if these people ever think of me, ever mourn the way things ended, ever talk about me. what do they say? what do these people take away after knowing me?

does it matter? probably not. is it curiosity that makes me wonder, or insecurity?

in moments of weakness i am tempted (and have, at times) reached out just one more time to the other half of a broken relationship. today i was thinking about one person who is rarely in my thoughts these days, wondering where she is, wondering if she's changed, and dare i say it, missing her presence in my life. part of it is nostalgia for a period of my life that was, in almost all ways, miserable. what's that about? but i think about sitting on that porch in the summertime, about riding bikes together, those first few weeks of dizzying lust, and i feel weird. not good-weird, or bad-weird. i just wonder if she thinks about those times.

i can "discuss" (read: argue) for hours without feeling satisfied. i can say my fiercest goodbyes to a terrible influence on my self-worth and two years later contemplate inviting them back into my life. for me, there's no such thing as enough closure.

as i sit here in my pajamas, heating pad on my achin' back, it occurs to me that i'm really happy.

i am graduating college. wait what? i'm graduating college. out of school for the first time in 17 years. what does that even mean?

so things are great, i have a million hours a day to do whatever the fuck i want, and that includes writing interesting blog posts. maybe tomorrow.

thoughts

"what would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? the world would split open."
muriel rukeyser, from käthe kollwitz

things i intend to do after div iii:
eat more gd vegetables

finish finish finish finish finish

i love writing about the lesbian avengers but right now i'm over it.