Jewel

"I've lived on hope
Just like a child
walking that mile
faking that smile
all the while
wishing my heart had wings
well from now on I am gonna be
The kind of woman I want my daughter to be

I'm gonna love myself
More than anyone else
Believe in me
Even if someone can't see
There's a stronger woman in me
Won't lose myself again
never, no
Cause there's a stronger woman, a stronger woman"

When you think about it that way, it really puts things in perspective.  If my daughter were in my shoes, what would I want her to do?  Why do I not choose for myself what I would want for her?  If I am to teach my children to live happy lives and follow their dreams, shouldn't I lead by example?  Is there, somewhere, a stronger woman in me?

I come up with all these reasons why I CAN'T end this.  I read a quote the other day, though, that really made me think.  We were talking about working out and my cousin said, "If we really want to do something, we'll find reasons.  If we don't, we'll find excuses."  (It was something like that, maybe not exactly)  For example, it took me three years to leave my son's dad, and it was a similar process then.  I would say, "Oh, I can't leave because I don't have any money, I don't have a job, I don't know how to do anything for myself, I don't have a car, and my son needs his dad because he's so young."  But, I was surprised to find out what I was capable of when it really came down to it.  I suspect I still have that inner reserve of strength somewhere, I just need to tap into it somehow.  To stop making excuses and start finding reasons.  Of course, it's harder this time because my husband is a much better person than my son's dad was.  Everyone was happy about me leaving HIM, but this time, I'm not so sure I'll have that support.

Here are my excuses and why they shouldn't stop me.

1.  I don't have a job, and I don't think I can find one.  --  This is true, I have applied for about 20 jobs a month over the last 3 or 4 months, and no one wants to hire me.  The most recent work experience I have is not something I can put on a resume, and I have not worked in an office in 5 years.  Furthermore, I left that office on bad terms, so if I put them on my resume and they are contacted, they would not give me a good reference.  In the fall, I will be going to school full time, so how would I even find time to work also?  Okay, well I could apply for FIP until I get a job, but one of the requirements for cash assistance is that you have to apply for a certain number of jobs per week and if you are offered a job, you can not turn it down.  I will have class on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday during the day and my son will be in kindergarten.  What if I get offered a job with a schedule that conflicts with my class schedule?  Option 2, I could keep applying for jobs and work something out with hubby that we will continue to cohabit until I am successful.  I mean, he will need to save up money before he can just move out anyway, so this arrangement could be mutually beneficial.

2.  My son will suffer.  This may be the case, but I realized something yesterday while I was arguing with my husband.  My son is suffering NOW.  I was being bitchy and moody, he blew up at me for my attitude, I told him I don't want to be with him anyway, he said I probably never DID, and I said I never should have married him...at that point my son started to cry and ran into his room.  I felt horrible, I didn't even realize he was standing there.  I want so badly to protect him, but at the same time, I'm exposing him to all this negativity and discord in our home.  It's like 6 of one, half a dozen of the other -- either way, he's going to be hurt.  Shouldn't it at least be a hurt that will have a foreseeable end instead of an indefinite, prolonged pain?  I don't think there's any way around this one.  I have thought long and hard, but there is no easy way out.  I just need to be as gentle, supportive, and loving to my son throughout this whole process.  Hopefully my husband can still be involved in our lives somehow and will still spend time with him from time to time.  I don't know how that will go over if he starts a new relationship, but this whole thing isn't my son's fault and he is really close to my husband. 

3.  My family will be disappointed.  This was the reason that made me go through with my first marriage, even though I didn't want to.  This was the reason that kept me there for 3 years, even though I was unhappy.  When I finally left my husband, I was shocked to discover that my family was much more supportive and understanding than I had expected.  I thought that I was letting them down, but they completely encouraged me to pursue my own happiness.  They are still friends with my ex-husband, but they stand behind me and my decision 100%.  I'm a little more nervous this time because this is my second failed marriage, but they are my family.  In the end, I think they will be there no matter what, even if they don't agree with my decisions. 

Looking at all these reasons and knowing that I can overcome them, I still don't know if I really WILL.  I still can't picture myself ALONE.  It's so scary, and things are so easy right now.  Except they're not, and I'm kidding myself if I think they'll get any better.  I have run from relationship to relationship all my life, existing to be someone's "other half" for so long, that I don't know how to be myself.  I don't even know who I am, and I'm kind of scared to be all alone with this person -- me -- that I don't even know.  Doing everything for myself, thinking for myself, doing what I want, going where I want, when I have been so used to letting everyone else make the decisions and I just follow along.  How will I even KNOW what I want?  I've never really thought about that before. 

The longest period of time that I was alone was after I left my son's dad, and even then, we were still hooking up here and there, talking on the phone, spending time together, and he'd tease me with the possibility that we might get back together.  In fact, the last time I had a romantic conversation with him was Christmas night that year, he told me he still loved me and wanted to be with me and that he was going to come spend the weekend with me.  I met my husband just one month later.  However, from the time I left my son's dad in March and started the on-again-off-again thing until October when he got another girl pregnant, until December when I realized he wasn't leaving her for me, until January when I met someone new...that time was the most intensely painful that I have ever experienced, and I WASN'T EVEN IN LOVE WITH HIM.  I hated that guy, he abused me, he criticized me, he cheated on me, he stole from me, he was an alcoholic...if I had such a hard time leaving HIM, just WHAT is going to happen when I leave a good husband?  I was suicidal after I left my son's dad.  I don't want to go back down that road.  But, is it fair to use my husband as a crutch, just because I can't be alone?  Nope.

DJ Gina Turner

I just met her in person at DEMF.  She was spinning at an afterparty at The Works called, "I Love You but I've Chosen Techno".  She was AMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZING!  I had to stop dancing a few times just to stare at her up there, she was just getting it DONE.  I had a really good time, but it ended pretty horribly.  I left early and...well, let me start from the beginning.

So, my husband and I have been fighting a lot, and talking about divorce, and there has been a general air of unhappiness in my marital home.  I had decided on divorce and hadn't quite worked up to telling him those exact words yet, but I had two serious talks leading up to it that had been meant to lead up to the major "I want a divorce" talk.  We had the "I'm gay" talk.  We had the "I'm not happy" talk.  Then, just before the "I want a divorce" talk...I started really looking at things.  My son, mostly.  My family.  Our house.  Our life.  How much he LOVES me, how much he's done for me.  I started thinking about the way things used to be between us and the way I used to feel for him.  I may never have felt that for any other man, but I will never deny that I DID once feel it for him.  If it WAS there, maybe it can BE there again.  Right?  I mean, walking away from all this is so hard, and maybe it's worth working on and trying to find what we lost.  It might not have been perfect, but nothing ever is, right?  Then, right when I changed my mind about divorce, he told me HE wanted a divorce.

Then I told him we should just go to DEMF together, like it was going to be some magic cure.  Last year when I went, I was filled with so much joy and happiness.  I felt like I was at home, at one with myself and the universe, and in tune with everything and everyone.  I was full of inner peace, harmony, enlightenment, and joy...so going to DEMF only compounded that and made it an absolutely beautiful, magical experience.  Silly me, I thought that our relationship could use something beautiful and magical -- but I didn't realize that last year, we hadn't found anything we didn't already have.  This year, I was trying to fill a void.  It didn't work.  I was trying to get back to where we were last year, and I thought by going back to the place we were so happy together and doing the things we did when we were in ;perfect harmony, I could bring it back.

I think I might be too late.  I've fallen out of step with him somehow, and it seems like all I noticed were things that bothered me.  Every time he held me, I felt suffocated.  He would put an arm around me at the festival and it would feel restricting and possessive.  He would grope me or touch me and I would feel like he was mauling me.  Even when he tried to cuddle with me in bed, I just felt like he was invading my space.  I recoiled from his touches, flinched from kisses, shrank in his embrace.  How was I supposed to reconnect with him THAT way?  Everything he did annoyed me.  He was making faces that hated me, I couldn't stand the way he drove, the things he wanted to spend money on, or really ANY decision he wanted to make.  I was at the point that I thought I couldn't wait for him to leave.  But then (and THIS is how messed up I am) when it was time for him to leave, I couldn't bear the thought of him leaving.  I didn't want to be alone with Shy and Vanessa.  They are really nice, but I would have felt so lonely with this happy loving couple, and me all alone.

As a matter of fact, I felt that way even BEFORE my husband left.  I was walking up to all the beautiful women at the festival, complimenting them, flirting, introducing myself, chatting them up, etc.  I noticed many happy lesbian couples, including Shy and Vanessa.  I couldn't help but feel some kind of deep envy for the happiness I was denying myself that they were allowing themselves, I was angry and bitter because all around me I saw what I wanted and next to me I saw what I had chosen instead.  Was it his fault?  Absolutely not.  He is a wonderful man, affectionate and loving, and I'm crying my eyes out as I type this.  He tries so hard and does so much for me, but my inner conflicted self had so many intense feelings going around due to all the overwhelming thoughts I've had lately that my frustration all spilled over onto him.  I projected all of my resentment out onto him and I was just so out of synch that I broke down and I knew I just had to leave.

I think what bothered me the most about the whole festival was the constant oppressive feeling of not belonging.  I didn't really fit in anywhere, which was in stark contrast to the feelings of community, acceptance, and belonging I had felt the previous year.  On one hand, I felt like I didn't fit in my marriage.  I felt like my husband and I were standing on opposite sides of a glass wall and couldn't reach one another.  I felt like an outsider in my own marriage.  At the same time, I came to realize that it is one thing to BE a lesbian married to a man, and quite another to live a lesbian lifestyle.  I might BE gay, but that is NOT the same as living a gay lifestyle.  At one point I did briefly explain to Shy what was going on with Dwight and I, and felt almost embarassed telling her I was gay.  I mean, who was I to tell HER this?  Really?  It felt almost insulting to her, because I am living a married life.  That's when "heterosexual priviledge" really started to make sense.  Not even just priveledge and non-priveledge, but I noticed a distinct separation.  A chasm between communities, and I didn't belong in either one. 

I went in to the booth where they were giving away free cigarettes and I told the guy behind the counter that the girl checking IDs was really hot.  He said, "Oh, family in the house?  Where's your rainbow bracelet?"  I realized that he meant that he was identifying as gay and was asking why I didn't wear a pride bracelet.  I feel like I don't really have a right to, you know?  That seems like kind of a slap in the face to those who are out and proud for some married lesbian to hide behind her husband and flash some rainbow bracelet around at a festival but stay in her marriage and pretty much in the closet for the rest of her life.  I feel like I haven't earned the priveledge of wearing a rainbow, because I still enjoy "heterosexual priveledge".  Besides, what good would that do?  It's not as if I'm on the market or anything.

I left the rental car and my debit card with the girls and told them to just bring it back when they were finished.  I couldn't have fun with my husband, I couldn't have had fun without him.  I am just unhappy, and I'm beginning to wonder if there is anything on the planet that can ever change that.

Courtney Love

"If you want love so unconditional and real you gotta ride
That black horse baby through the depths of hell that I've been follow
Me away
I will be the same
Strongest one to name
Through the valley of life
I'm gonna be the same
Goodnight goodnight goodnight
Ah goodnight
Oh you'll never be the same..."

Yeah, that's right, I did it.  Courtney, for all that she's been demonized, is just a woman -- a woman who has demons, like the rest of us.  A woman who has potential, like the rest of us.  A woman who made choices, like any woman -- any PERSON -- does, every day.  Some of those choices had lasting repercussions.  Some of the paths she chose to venture down led to things like addiction and suffering, but if you believe in karma (and I very much do) I think you'll recognize that she has paid, and perhaps continues to pay, the consequences for the bad choices she made.  At the risk of waxing philosophical for a moment, folks, let us consider for a moment the possibility that hell is not in the afterlife -- it is here on earth.  It is the suffering we inflict on ourselves when we exercise our free will to do things that are harmful to ourselves and others.  See above.  I don't believe she's a bad person.  I don't believe anyone is.  We're like clay that is neither positive nor negative, only neutral, and can be shaped into something positive or negative.  That's just my opinion, though. 

Anyway, the lyrics I chose have significance as well, like they usually do.  I'll explain them momentarily.  First, my Shred report.  :D  Today was day 13.  I took yesterday off because I was very, very sore and I felt entitled to a day of rest.  Besides, I got home from court and immediately started arguing with hubby, so after that was over, I was way too depressed to work out anyway.  Today's workout went even better than yesterday's!  I really pushed myself!  I noticed, though, that my feet are really starting to hurt.  I need to start working out in shoes.  (Yes, I do it barefoot -- after doing yoga for so many years, I've become accustomed to working out barefoot.  30 Day Shred, I'm finding, is way too high-impact for that.)  Tomorrow the plan is to move up to the 5 pound weights and make it through the plank twists.  I'll do that until day 15, then I'll try to do the regular (not modified) versions of some of the exercises.  By day 20, I don't want to be doing any of the modified versions anymore.

Court went really well, my ex didn't have a lawyer and I do.  My ex just thought he could run the show and intimidate everyone, which didn't go over very well at all.  On top of all that, we were there to discuss why I denied him parenting time back in February, and he kept trying to discuss custody.  He kept trying to object to things without a legal basis, then he kept rambling about irrelevant things, and the bailiff had to shush him twice.  I thought he was going to be kicked out of the courtroom on one occasion.  He was disrespectful, obnoxious, and ignorant.  However, that made things even easier for me.  They found in my favor and I was not charged with contempt.  Also, his objection to my ex parte was filed on the 14th day (he had 14 days to object) with the wrong court, so they are not going to give him a hearing.  If he wants to do anything, he has to hire a lawyer and file a motion.  All of that means that I officially have sole custody and will soon be getting child support, FINALLY!

Yesterday I *thought* I finally got my way.  Hubby broke down and totally understood.  I asked him what he wanted, and he said divorce.  Now all of a sudden I'm not sure that's what I want anymore!  Oh my goddess, what the hell is the MATTER with me?  I did tell him that I don't want to have sex with him, but I do love him...I guess I just couldn't stand to see him all broken down like that.  My son doesn't really have a role model and I was thinking about that, too...everyone but myself, I know.  But F!  I HAVE TO GET IN TO THERAPY!!!!!!!!  I have the name of a therapist, I just really need to get on the ball with that.  Why am I changing my mind now that he wants what I thought I wanted him to want?  What the hell is the matter with me???

Meredith Brooks

"I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change
Tried to tell you but you look at me like maybe I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet"

I tried to find a picture of Meredith looking, well, "bitchy" -- but you'd be surprised at how many pictures of her are more of the "innocent and sweet" variety.  It doesn't matter, I love the lady in any case.  These lyics seemed to particularly fit me today.  Not only because of what I'm going through with my husband, but also on a personal level.  I seem to be a walking contradiction, opposites living in the same body.

I suppose I've probably always been this way, and I AM a Gemini so this realization should come as no surprise.  I suppose I never really thought about myself this much before, but the situation that I now find myself in has proven to be a catalyst for tons of self-reflection.  I think that it's only fair that if I'm going to be brutally honest with my husband, I should be brutally honest with myself as well.  Not everything that I've discovered on this journey of self-discovery has been pretty, let me tell you that.

The first thing that I find utterly confusing is that I seem to be at once utterly consumed with myself yet paradoxically filled with self-loathing.  Does such a thing exist -- a self-loathing narcissist?  A self-centered masochist?  I would suppose, by definition, it could not -- narcissism is defined as excessive self-love, which I don't have.  I am just obsessed with myself.  I can't really call myself a perfectionist, because I'm not a neat freak or anything.  However, I think about that -- the fact that I am NOT a neat freak -- a lot.  I think about my faults all the time, and my mistakes, and go over the stupid things I said, and my body flaws, etc, etc.  You get it -- I'm obsessed with myself in a BAD way -- with trying to be better and emphasis on why I'm not.  Maybe that's why I'm attracted to very confident women -- they have something that I want.  Confidence.  I envy that.

Speaking of envy in relation to attraction, that brings me to another point.  I notice that the feeling I get now when I look at a woman and feel lust toward her is the same feeling that I would get when I would look at a girl in high school and junior high and feel insane jealousy.  I wouldn't allow myself to even entertain the possibility before I was 18 that I could be sexually excited by a girl, but I would look, and stare, and feel this strange feeling...I couldn't tear my eyes away...I would tell myself, I am SO JEALOUS.  She is SO BEAUTIFUL...I WANT...to look like that.  Yeah, that's it.  Except one time, when I was 15 I played spin the bottle with two people -- one girl and one boy.  That was my first time making out with a girl and I loved it.  Her lips were so soft and the vibe was so much more sensual...for some reason, I didn't even feel ashamed.  I'm not sure why not, because that was during my "Jesus Freak" phase.  I must have rationalized it that we were just experimenting, it was "all in fun" and didn't mean anything. 

I just finished doing day 2 of level 2, or day 12 of the 30 Day Shred.  I am so proud of me!!!!  Yesterday I was so disappointed in myself, but I was determined to keep trying.  I am so glad I did!  I did SOOOOOO much better today!  Yes, I had to do the modified versions of some of the moves, like double jump ropes and plank jacks.  I lost my balance a few times during the military presses with leg extensions, and I DEFINITELY had to take a couple of breaks during the HORRIBLE plank twists.  I did not aim for perfection today, only to do better than I did yesterday.  And tomorrow I will try to do better than I did today -- before I know it, I will have level 2 MASTERED.  I will OWN it!  I feel so good today because I made such a big improvement.  Big smiles!  Besides, working out is supposed to be good for your mood, and who couldn't use a few extra endorphins in her life?  I'm on bipolar medication but it doesn't always seem to be that effective.  My mood seems to be very dependent on the weather, which really sucks.  I definitely need to be reevaluated by a psychiatrist to see if I can find a more effective combination of medications that will keep me in balance a little better.  Right now all I'm taking is a mood stabilizer, but it doesn't really seem to stabilize anything at all.  Perhaps I just feel that way because things are especially tumultuous right now, I don't know.

Speaking of medications, I think that what I need to do right now is take a Motrin 800 because my muscles are REALLY sore.  I'm not complaining, though -- I always say that the sore parts of my body are the parts that are getting really sexy.  ;)

Liz Phair

"You've been around enough to know
That if I want to leave, you better let me go"

I don't really have much to say about Liz.  I mean, she's sexy, I love her voice, and I like most of her lyrics.  I started listening to her when I was 22 or 23, as I mentioned in a previous entry.  Her attitude seems pretty cool, but I think I bought the wrong album.  I got her self-titled CD and it was a bit "poppy", and I'm not crazy about pop.  The lyrics weren't as deep as I traditionally go for, although they were lighthearted and even funny.  That's okay, though -- I mean, we don't have to be serious all the time, right?  We don't have to tackle the deep subjects in every song or on every album, and from what I understand, this was not her typical style.  It's okay to experiment as an artist, to deviate from your norm, and to try on different styles.  It's a nice change of pace to go from the politically and emotionally charged songs that are usually occupying my CD player to something like, errrrrrr, HWC.  ;)

Today was my first day of level 2 on the 30 Day Shred.  Never mind what I said about wanting to date Jillian -- I spent the entire 20 minutes spewing obscenities at her today.  I really did a terrible job and I doubt that I got much of a workout, considering that she was about three repetitions into each move before I even figured out how to do them, then I would do a couple of repetitions, realize I needed to learn the modified version, do a couple repetitions, then she would be on to the next move.  Or, I would be halfway through an exercise, realize I was doing it wrong, and have to figure out the right way to do it and jump back in.  It was horrible.  A few times, I just stopped and stared at the television, dumbfounded.  I feel like I need to work out again tonight just to make up for that epic fail.

This coming weekend (Memorial weekend), we are going to DEMF (Detroit Electronic Music Festival) and I am SOOOOO excited.  We are going with Space Girl and her girlfriend.  Last year we went with Space Girl, and she had a bunch of her friends meet up with us while we were there and hubby felt so left out because they were all lesbians.  Wait, I think one of them was straight, I can't remember.  Anyway he thought they were all man haters, but I think the real problem was that he was being really controlling and it was irritating everyone.  We were all trying to leisurely walk around and just enjoy everything, and he was being a bit bossy and trying to decide where everyone should go and when.  Of course, HE never notices when he's being annoying -- instead, he projects it on everyone else.  So, of course, he thinks everyone ELSE was annoying.  *eye roll*

I think it's going to be a lot of fun, but I'm a little nervous.  Last year we only stayed one night, but this year we are staying all three days!  Hubby has to work on Monday, so he's going to get a ride home on Sunday and I'm staying until Tuesday morning with the girls.  I hope I won't be a third wheel, like "in the way" or anything.  I don't think it'll be a problem, they're both really cool girls and I definitely won't mind giving them their privacy if they need it.  Besides, knowing us, we'll probably even make some friends while we're there!  Anyway, what I'm nervous about is all of the stuff hubby and I have been discussing rearing its ugly head.  I want to leave all of that at home and just have a good time.  I don't want to rain on Space Girl and V's parade, and it wouldn't be fair to expose them to our drama.  I just know that people tend to get more open about their feelings and talk about things while "under the influence" and I just hope that he doesn't start anything with me that would interfere with the vibe.  Conversely, though, I hope that the temporary hold on separation negotiations doesn't give him false hope.  I know that is also a very real possibility, and is in no way my intention.  I just want us all to have a good time.

Fiona Apple

"I've been a bad, bad girl
I've been careless with a delicate man
And it's a sad, sad world
When a girl will break a boy
Just because she can..."

Before I explain why I chose Fiona, and more specifically, this particular song today; allow me to point out something I noticed about her while I was searching for a picture to put in my blog today.  Prior to this blog entry, the females I have chosen have been strong and proud.  The pictures I found when I googled their names were of women standing straight, defiant expressions on their faces, arms in the air, chests out -- you get the picture.  They ranged from Shirley Manson's middle finger to the sweet yet still secure Tori and Ani.  Body language conveys a lot, and I read in each woman that she was comfortable in her own skin, proud to be who she was.

Then today I googled Fiona Apple.  I found pictures of her hunched over, arms crossed over her chest, head down, and always with this questioning look in her eyes.  I can almost interpret that look as if she were speaking aloud -- "Is this okay?  Am I okay?  Am I good enough?  Are you sure?"

She looks like a scared, insecure little girl.  I'm no body language expert by any means, but just by comparing the previous women to this woman, one thing is clear -- she does not have "IT".  And "IT", as I am coming to find out, is confidence.  Look at these poses -- insecure, insecure, insecure.

This is not to say that I have not had an insecure day in MY life, because I certainly have.  I am just remarking on how much more beautiful a woman can be when she is confident, that's all. 

Why did I choose her today?  Because I feel like I have been a bad, bad girl.  It's really happening now, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for it.  My life is falling apart around me and I'm terrified.  I'm mourning my relationship, even though I know it isn't right for me.  I'm thinking of all the good times we had together and the time we spent as a family and grieving for all the good things that have to end too.  I'm wishing there were some way I could save some of it, even though I know it wouldn't be fair to force my husband to stay in a relationship with someone who only wants to be his best friend.  It would be selfish of me to keep him to myself out of convenience when he deserves to be loved by someone the way he loves me.  If I could make myself love him that way, I would do it in a heartbeat.  My heart is breaking for him, for how sad he is, for how much he's done for me and how much he's put into this relationship and now feels like he's failed and not done enough.  He feels like he isn't good enough, that I don't love him, and it hurts me so much because he's an amazing man and I DO love him...just not in the way he wants me to.  It is so hard for me to let him go because he DOES make me happy, and this IS safe and comfortable and easy, but this isn't where either of us is meant to be.  I wish I hadn't wasted so much of his time.  I wish I had known before!  I am so sad for so many reasons. 

The biggest reason is my son, who loves my husband very much.  First, I stayed in an abusive relationship for too long and my son was two years old before I cut final ties with his dad.  Now he's four and has to lose the main man in his life again, only I believe it will be worse this time because he really looks up to my husband and they spend a lot of time together.  I don't know what to do, I'm just rambling right now so I think I should probably end this entry and return when my thoughts make more sense to me.

Shirley Manson

"You pretend you're high
You pretend you're bored
You pretend you're anything
Just to be adored..."

Hahahaha, YEAH.  Right on.  ;)  I was going to do Gwen Stefani today, but I chose Shirley because those lyrics relate to what I was going to talk about.  A couple of days ago I said something about being the girl who sits on giant snowballs and how I'm sick of trying so hard to be accepted.  I'll explain shortly.

I just finished day ten of the 30 Day Shred!  Go ME!  Level 1 is officially complete, and I must say, I do notice a difference in my body.  The net weight loss of Level 1, however, was not that impressive -- only three pounds.  My mom keeps reminding me that muscle weighs more than fat, and while I know that it's true, my scale does not measure how much muscle I have gained.  Another thing to keep in mind is that my starting weight was 135.  At 5'6", that is within the healthy weight range already, so I shouldn't really have been expecting to lose much.  I WILL say that I am definitely noticing more muscle tone, strength, and endurance.  I noticed something else while exercising that had nothing to do with fitness, and that was that I think my "gaydar" is getting a little better.  Well, that can't be entirely accurate, because it's been picking up chicks that aren't actually gay -- so we'll call it my "wishful thinking radar".  For example, Jillian Michaels.  If she were, and if I were in a position to date anyone, and she were actually interested in me (BAHAHAHAHA -- a girl can DREAM, right???), she would totally be my type!  I mean, yeah, she doesn't have a lot of tattoos.  However, she still definitely qualifies as BAD ASS.  Also...Kat Von D.

Good Goddess!  Anyway, before I get carried away...what?  Was I talking about something?  Oh, right.  Yeah. 

I grew up in one suburban town until I was eight years old, at which point my parents decided that we should move to a rural area.  I started fourth grade at a new school, and it was rather hard on me.  I had been weird and different at my original school, but that was just me, and no one there had ever known me any other way.  I read poetry for show and tell in first grade, I used big words, I carried around books no one else in my class was reading, and I had many quirky habits.  It was all okay, though -- that's just the way I was, and I never thought for a second that I had anything to be ashamed of.  Everything changed when we moved.

All of the girls in my class at my new school would stand in a circle.  I often found myself standing on the outside of this circle, an outcast.  I was quiet and I was shy, so I wasn't sure what I needed to do to befriend the girls and get in the circle.  I resigned myself to being lonely and burying my nose in books, yet I still desired social acceptance and companionship.  Some of these girls were mean and fourth grade was the first time I learned firsthand how petty and bitchy women can be to one another.  All I wanted to do was make friends.  All THEY wanted to do was find a weak link to use for their own amusement, someone desperate for acceptance, someone who would do anything to be liked.  That winter, the bitches were standing in their circle and I approached them.  I had white pants on and they told me that if I wanted to be their friend, I had to sit on this giant snowball nearby for all of recess.  All too eagerly, I said, "Okay!" 

I couldn't figure out why they were all laughing at me.  I did what they wanted, but they were still not being my friends.  I was hurt and confused.  Those girls often did things like that to me, and so have other people throughout my lifetime.  It all comes down to me being too desperate to be accepted and too eager to please other people.  Just when I think I must have made someone happy because I have done exactly as she has requested, many times she is laughing at me and thinking, "Look at this stupid idiot, I can get her to do anything I want."  No one respects a person like that.  The last time it happened, I had made a new friend from an internet message board and we went out for drinks.  A month or so later, the board had a party and she was there chatting with two other women.  I was excited to see her and thought we were friends.  When I came up and said hello, she asked me if I could get her some chips and salsa.  I was happy to do it for her, as I thought that would be the type of thing a friend would do for another friend.  When I brought the chips and salsa back to her table, I overheard her say to one of the other girls, "Did you see how fast she brought that back to the table?" followed by derisive laughter.

I recently posted on askjoanne asking whether or not I would be accepted in the lesbian community while I am still married to a man.  That night, I wondered when I am going to stop worrying about whether other people accept me.  When am I going to stop worrying about my family accepting my choices?  When am I going to stop choosing hairstyles based on what my sister in law will accept?  When will I stop removing piercings based on what my mother accepts?  When will I stop ending relationships because of what my grandparents accept?  The only person who needs to accept me is ME, and anyone who doesn't can fuck off for all I care.  That's my new attitude, because I'm not sitting on any more giant snowballs.

Bif Naked

"2:30 PM I jumped off the welfare wagon
To meet you for lunch
You sit like a Thai princess
Cold and captivating, you divulge your latest secret
So sinister, I can not repeat

I died, eating french fries

In the restaurant on the corner

Where you broke my heart..."

That is NOT the most flattering picture of Bif, but she looks fierce in it.  I first saw Bif Naked on MTV, singing "Moment of Weakness" and was instantly enamored.  She was fiesty, she was beautiful, she had that certain...something.  This chick had it, and I wanted it.  I went and bought her CD immediately and loved it.  Sure, it was a little juvenile -- I can't remember now how old she was when she recorded "I Bificus", but we must remember, I was in high school at the time so I could relate to some of the things she was singing about.  For example, one track was about losing her virginity in the backseat of a car ("My First").  I laughed at the part where she sang, "There, it was there, baby you peed my name in the snow!"  Most of all, though, I liked that this chick was bad ass.  She gave off a vibe that she wouldn't take any shit from anyone, she didn't care what you thought of her, she was different and that was okay.  She was secure in her eccentricities.  She was openly bisexual and I think her attitude was part of what helped me be comfortable with who I was, at least in part.

I looooooooove tattoos.  ;)  I need more!  I have five.  Three of them are fairies because I love fairies, and one is a triple moon because I am pagan.  The triple moon depicts the three phases of the moon (waxing, full, waning) and the three stages of the goddess (maiden, mother, crone).  I like it because it holds significance to me and others who are familiar with goddess spirituality, yet isn't as obvious as a pentacle or something of that nature.  That is not to say that I would be afraid or ashamed to wear a pentacle, because I absolutely wouldn't be -- but I grow weary of educating the misinformed and ignorant all day long.  I wore one around my neck and you would be surprised how many times I had to explain that I am NOT a Satanist, I don't sacrifice animals, I don't even BELIEVE in the devil, or a million other ridiculous things.  I can only imagine that it will be just as bad -- or worse -- when people find out that I'm gay, because I don't plan on hiding THAT fact either. 

So, if I were asked what my "type" is, the above is a great example.  I'm sure there is a proper term, but I'll call her the Bad-Ass Femme.  See Bif Naked.  See Lea from Bad Girls Club Miami (Season 5).  See Papi from The L Word. 

You really can't blame Brandi for becoming obsessed with her, can you?  I mean, DAMN!  Mmmmmmm.  Then, of course, we have Papi, recently introduced (to me) on The L Word.  I have this thing for Latina chicks, too.  Shane doesn't really do much for me, but when Papi came along, I was like....yeah.  ;) 

Anyway, speaking of The L Word, what the HELL is going on with Jenny?  I used to like her, but it seems like with each episode, she becomes progressively more annoying.  There's just this thing about her, I don't know what it is.  Almost an air of superiority -- was that intentional?  Are people supposed to hate her character?  Because I do.  Not hate, deeply dislike.  Anyway, who cares?  It's a show, for crying out loud.  Sheesh.  I guess it hits a little close to home because I identified with her at first.  I don't think, in order to be a writer, that one must act like a total condescending bitch though.  Just my thoughts.  Perhaps her behavior echoes the "newly reformed" attitude in so many walks of life. 

No one is more judgemental, generally speaking, than the newly reformed.  For example, who is the quickest to tout the evils of smoking?  Someone who just quit.  Who is usually the first to bible thump and try to save your soul?  A "born again" Christian.  Many times, those who have recently undergone a radical change in their lives and have "seen the light" feel this overwhelming (and highly annoying) need to enlighten everyone else they encounter.  What they don't realize are two key things.  The first is that your truth is not the universal truth and is not the same truth which everyone will choose to embrace.  It may have helped you, but it might not be right or appropriate for someone else at this time.  They will find their own truth in their own time in their own way.  You found yours when you were ready, you need to allow them to do the same.  The second goes along with that, and it is that no one can change until he or she is ready.  No amount of telling someone to quit smoking, showing her pictures of lung tumors, soaking her cigarettes in perfume (*ahem* DAD) or preaching to her about how many minutes of her life she is sacrificing is going to FORCE her to quit.  She has to want to, and only then can SHE make the decision for HERSELF.

Oh, wow, what a shock -- I went off on a tangent again.  Well, that is all for now!



Poe

"Your eyes are mockingbirds inside a gilded, cage
Your life's a silent movie that I haven't even heard, for ages
Tell me everything
Someone's gotta hear this
Beautiful thing"

Have you ever heard a song that is so beautiful that that there is no way to convey its beauty by merely typing the lyrics?  You sing it to yourself as you put them on the page, and sadly sigh, because you know that the person reading them will not know the melodious loveliness that you know, and she will be missing out on such an important part of the song.  Did you notice the feminine pronoun?  Hahaha, I failed an English paper that way once.  I did it just to be a brat.

You know how the unknown pronoun is supposed to be he/his/him?  As in, "When someone enters the room, direct him to hang his coat on the rack.  He should then be seated in his assigned seat and wait patiently for class to begin."  Well, I found that extremely sexist!  So, I completed all the sentences with feminine pronouns.  Why not?  If we can assume the unknown is masculine, why can we not assume she is feminine?  So I did.  I failed the paper, but I made a statement.  I doubt that it made much of an impact on my English teacher, but I was spunky, and it was worth it to me nonetheless.  ;)

All roads must eventually lead to Tori, at least here in the land of Serendipity.  As proof of that fact, I have an excerpt here from an article that I stumbled upon while reading Bitch magazine online today.  It was a lovely article in its entirety, but much too long for me to include here.  Of particular interest to me was the following:

"Amos defined her music, from the outset of her career, around feelings of social ostracism and the expression of a complex inner self that had trouble finding acceptance. Little Earthquakes, the solo album that made her name, brimmed with first-person, seemingly autobiographical confessions about rejection, self-doubt, and adolescence. “Every finger in the room is pointing at me,” began its first song; the album’s first single, “Me and a Gun,” was an a cappella recounting of Amos’s own rape. But though it could easily have turned into a paean to self-pity and victimization, Little Earthquakes was also full of defiance, as well as assertions that being true to oneself was its own reward. And then there was the implicit message of the music itself: All of this happened, and I’m still here.

Amos’s music and lyrics were pretty, emotionally expressive, vulnerable: in other words, stereotypically feminine. But they weren’t coy or girlish; they were laced with anger and sadness, and they addressed taboo topics. A song in which a little girl talked to an icicle could turn very quickly into a song about masturbation; a song about a miscarriage could contain lyrics about mermaids. Amos wasn’t connected with a feminist music scene like riot grrrl; she didn’t tour with Lilith Fair or perform at the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival. But her mouthy, brash style wasn’t easily assimilated outside of feminism, either.

In rock music, there tends to be two types of women granted the stage: tough girls and nice girls. Tough girls—Polly Jean Harvey, Patti Smith—get respect, albeit grudgingly, because they display traits we honor in men: They’re confrontational, direct, balls-out. Nice girls—Dusty Springfield, Sarah McLachlan—are admired for displaying the compliance and sweetness we associate with femininity. Of course, it’s a false dichotomy: No one is purely nice or purely strong. But Amos, who was both achingly, publicly vulnerable and openly defiant, fit most easily into a shadowy third category, feared by performers and lambasted by critics: the hysterical, shrieking female. It had claimed Sinead O’Connor before her, and would claim Fiona Apple after. But her fans loved the combination of public hurt and defiance. The story of the wounded ugly duckling turned rock-star swan spoke to women. It spoke to social outcasts. It spoke to survivors of sexual violence or abuse. And it spoke to LGBT people, especially young gay men, who had particular reason to connect with Amos’s recurring themes of religious repression and sexual shame, and who still constitute a large part of her fan base." (full article here: http://bitchmagazine.org/article/birth-of-the-uncool)

Verrrrrrrrry innnnnnnnnnnnnnteresting.  Hmmmmmmmmmm.  In any case, I love Tori.  Forever and ever, no matter what, and I don't care who knows it.  I never sat down and analyzed why, because if I did that with music, it would take up all my time.  However, if I HAD done that with the music I listened to as a young teenager, I wonder what conclusions I would have arrived at?  What would I have discovered about myself?  I believe that you can tell a lot about a person by the music she listens to.  Sometimes it's scary -- for example, I knew this girl who seemed so sweet and bubbly.  She was a tall blonde, dressed very feminine, and had very girly mannerisms.  One day, I was hanging out with her and she pulled out her laptop.  She asked me if I had ever heard of a particular type of music (I just had to google it a second because I forgot the name of it, but it was called horrorcore) and I said no.  She then proceeded to play this HORRIBLE music with lyrics that would have the potential to induce nightmares.  It was gruesome, horrible, and traumatizing.  I wondered how such a sweet girl could enjoy such awful music.  I wondered what thoughts went through her mind as she listed to those lyrics.  I wondered if she had violent thoughts herself, if she had ever thought of killing someone -- if she was thinking of killing ME, right that instant.  I thought about the band -- did they need therapy?  Had they been abused as children?  Did they torture small animals?  What the FUCK was WRONG with these people??????  (Incidentally, while googling "horrorcore", I found two articles on the first page about horrorcore artists or fans being suspects in multiple murders.  Apparently my uneasiness was not completely unwarranted.)

Ick.  On to another topic!  So, after I came out to my husband, we had a serious conversation.  He asked me a few questions, which I answered honestly.  One of those questions was whether or not I had orgasms during sex with him, and I answered no.  I explained to him that I had never had an orgasm from penetration since the day I lost my virginity at age fifteen, so it would have done me no good to be honest about that because he would have kept trying to find a way to get me off and I already knew that nothing was going to work.  Don't you think that if there was some position, some rhythm, some magic combination, that I would have discovered it by now?  So, having experimented exhaustively and found no route to Orgasm-ville, the kindest solution that I have found is to fake it.  I explained all this to him and he took it much better than I expected him to.  However, last night, after a month of no sex, I gave it up.  Afterwards, he asked the dreaded question.  Why????  I hated to see the dejected expression on his face.  I felt like I had failed him, like it was my fault that I was incapable of orgasm.  That look right there -- THAT is why I fake it.  Guys tell you to be honest, well, I call bullshit.  So I tried to soften the blow by telling him it had felt good, though, even though I didn't get off.  He still wasn't happy.  Well, fuck, what do you WANT from me?????

Ani DiFranco

"I believe that there is more to life
We coulda loved eachother through
But I was afraid of commitment
When it came to you..."

Ani DiFranco.  :)  I have realized, as I've read over my first two blog entries, that I need to SLOW DOWN.  Yes, my mind is racing.  I am thinking about a thousand different things at once and it is difficult to express them all at the same time.  However, it is impossible to go so many directions at one time.  Not to mention, it must be confusing.  I am blogging about this as a way to sort out my thoughts, and it will do no good if I put them down in exactly the same chaotic fashion that they are swirling about in my brain.  I must assign some sort of order to them.  I need to deal with them individually, in a linear fashion.  Perhaps then I won't feel so overwhelmed. 

I have been reading a few other blogs by women in similar situations, and some have spent only a short time discussing their coming out process.  I can tell that I am the type of person who will devote significantly more attention to this part of my life, only because I analyze everything to death.  For example, I went out to dinner with my brother, sister, and all of our cousins last holiday season.  My brother, his wife, my sister, her husband, and I were discussing what to get my mom.  I made some ridiculous comment about how I had bought some gold earrings for myself but they weren't my style and I had never worn them, so I was thinking about giving them to her.  WHY did I say that?  Am I STUPID?  Did I have too much wine?  What must they have thought about me after I said that?  Did they talk about me after dinner?  What would I have said if I heard someone else say such a thing?  Where did that even COME from?  You see -- I am STILL kicking my own ass over that one comment from six months ago.

I have all the time in the world to consider all the whys, hows, whens, whats, and wheres of this situation.  This blog is my therapy, since I don't have a therapist.  However, I am definitely going to be getting one as soon as possible.  In the meantime, though, I am going to look at this one piece at a time.  Leading up to the day I came out to my husband...

My ex-girlfriend had been in this play based on a TV show called "The L Word".  I unfortunately missed her play and had never heard of the show, and later forgot about it.  Then, a few months ago, I was talking about a friend of mine to someone I knew.  I told him that she had been bisexual before, but now that she had a girlfriend, she suddenly identified as a lesbian and all she had seemed to want to talk about the last time I had seen her was "lesbians like to watch these shows, lesbians like to shop at these stores, this is popular in the lesbian community, lesbian this, lesbian that, blah blah blah" and I felt like her sexuality had taken over her personality.  He told me that it reminded him of this show, "The L Word".  More intrigued this time, I made a mental note. 

My husband and I ended up cancelling our cable and getting Netflix Instant through our Xbox, and while I was browsing through television shows, one in particular caught my eye -- "The L Word".  Of course, I HAD to check it out.  YES, it is TOTALLY a soap opera.  I have never been one for soap operas before, but I must admit that I am shamelessly and hopelessly addicted to this show.  So, I was watching it for a few days, and some of the things that some of the characters said made me think, a lot.  At first, I took issue with this scene in the porn shop where Alice (who is bisexual) was there and Dana makes this comment about, "I can't stand you bisexuals.  Make up your mind already." 

At this point, I identified as a bisexual, and I thought, "Yeah, like LESBIANS have a monopoly on monogamy.  Like YOU really have the market cornered on fidelity -- just because you only date women doesn't mean none of you can't 'make up your mind already' WHICH WOMAN to date!"  Not only that, but to be judgemental of a woman because she is bisexual while expecting the straight world to NOT judge YOU for being a lesbian -- what is THAT?  Would you like a straight person to tell you to "Just be straight already?"

Then there was the episode where Jenny's boyfriend pretty much TELLS her, "You're gay."  I had this weird feeling when I watched that, and I started thinking a lot over the next few days.  I even wrote this long journal entry about how, even if bisexuality IS due to indecision, the gay community should be supportive instead of condescending to those who are on that journey of discovery.  As I wrote that, I wondered.  Am I talking about myself?  I wrote about how we do not all emerge from the womb fully self-aware, and sometimes we must experience things and reach a certain point before we realize just who we are.  Maybe, for some, we don't instantly realize or accept that we are gay.  Surely there are others who can relate and sympathize instead of berate and ostracize.  After I wrote this, it was like my inner self was trying to tell me something.  It beat in my mind like a drumbeat, growing in volume and intensity for the next two days.  "AMIGAYAMIGAYAMIGAYAMIGAY?" 

**NOTE -- This is NOT to say that I believe that bisexuality is a stepping stone to homosexuality for everyone.  Regardless of MY experience, I think bisexuality does exist in its own right and deserves far more respect than it gets.  I remember laughing at the "LGBT" -- why the hell do they even put the B in there?  Everyone knows that the "B" does not have a community.  Rejected by the lesbians, rejected by the straight community (except for horny drooling guys hoping for threesomes, oh goody...), the bisexuals could really use more support and acceptance.  You are who you are, why can't you just let them be who they are?  Does it affect you?  Why should it bother you?  You don't have to date them, you know, if you really are convinced that they will "always go back to men".  To be fair, some really do.  I know that, I did that, I wasn't as brave as many in the lesbian community I so admire.  I did it to her, and although she is younger than I am, it took me another five years to get to the point that she already was at when I met her. 

Anyway, it's a lonely world, no matter who you are.  Dividing ourselves over our sexuality is really immature.  I would really like to see the B in LGBT represented more.  That's all for today.

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

"Boy, you're just a stupid bitch and girl, you're just a no good dick..."

I have this really strange habit of correcting grammar in songs when I type the lyrics out.  It just looks so WRONG to me that I can't just leave it incorrect, for fear that someone might think I didn't know the way it was supposed to be written or something.  I'm not sure what my issue is, but the lyrics in the title of this entry are actually, "Boy, YOU just a stupid bitch and girl, YOU just a no good dick" but I couldn't bear to see them that way.  They are from Black Tongue, by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.  I remember the first time I ever heard the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, I was sitting in a coffee shop with my friend and the song "Maps" came on.  She asked me if I had ever heard of them and told me that she thought I would really like them.  She said "Maps" wasn't really a good representation of their sound, and she was absolutely right.  I love discovering great music, especially music that has been recommended to me by friends who are familiar with my tastes.  So, the next time I was in Best Buy, I bought the CD "Fever to Tell".  I.Fell.In.Love.  To this day, there are few things that get to me like that CD, like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.  YEAH! 

I went to a formal dance to raise funds for Pagan Pride day that year.  I brought my girlfriend (the one who had a boyfriend when I was married -- the one I fell in love with, the one who broke MY heart -- not the other one.  We shall call her "Earth Girl").  The girl who had introduced me to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs also came with us, as did two of our other friends.  We brought the CD and asked the DJ to play some songs from it, and to our delight, he did!  Of course, no one was dancing except the three of us crazy chicks, but we didn't give a damn.  We had a great time that night.  My girlfriend and I ended up going to an afterparty at another couple's house, and the husband kept touching me, which was making me very nervous.  As he was making our bed downstairs, he explained to us that he and his wife were poly, and she had a boyfriend who lived upstairs. 

I remember thinking of how strange that must be.  Then again, how different was I?  I was married and had a girlfriend -- the only difference was, my husband didn't KNOW.  I guess being poly was the more honest way of living, providing that you truly love both partners.  For me, though, it still wouldn't have been honest.  I was in love with her and not with my husband.  What do you do in a POLY relationship when that happens?  You have two partners and they know about eachother, but you are in love with one and not the other?  You can't always control that, you know.  Believe me, I know.  I loved my husband.  I love my husband now.  I love MANY people, and HAVE loved many people -- but you CAN NOT force yourself to be IN LOVE with someone.  I know that is the typical line -- "I love you but I'm not IN love with you", but really, there IS a difference.  I tried to explain it to my husband and he keeps telling me I don't love him.  I keep telling him that is NOT what I said.  I DO love him.  I told him I wasn't IN love with him.  Then he tells me there is no difference, and there IS!  There absolutely IS!  It makes me so sad that he doesn't understand that.

Oh, yeah, and before I forget again...I forgot to mention Otep yesterday.  I was talking about how I liked certain bands, and had never heard of other ones.  Well, I La-la-LOVED Kittie and I was reading something somewhere by someone who said they were lame (whatev) and that Otep was waaaaaaay better.  Someone else responded that she agreed, BUT if someone liked Kittie, she should check out Otep, because she'd be sure to love them.  Soooooo...another band to add to the list.  I remember Space Girl (the one I am still friends with) saying she loved Otep, and I agreed because I must have thought she meant Type O Negative.  It was only just now that I realized she was talking about something totally different. 

This entry was supposed to be about how I am tired of being the little girl who sits on giant snowballs, and how I am tired of being so worried about whether or not anyone else accepts me.  Apparently it went in a different direction and I'll have to explain that story next time.  Might I mention something quickly, though, about something I saw in The L Word?  Keep in mind, I'm still catching up.

I'm on the episode where Bette's boss tells her she has been married for 25 years and she thinks she's a lesbian.  She asked Bette if it's too late, and Bette, in her soothing, gentle, sweet voice tells her it's never too late.  Of course, I instantly burst into tears.  Okay, give me a break, I'm super hormonal right now.  I'm PMSing, and I'm on new birth control to top it all off.  The part that irritated me, though, was that Alice thinks it's okay to just start dating her?  What?  Okay, she accepted she's gay, whatever, fine.  However...isn't she still married?  It's not her husband's fault that she didn't realize she was a lesbian, is it?  When she asked Bette if she thought Alice liked her, I thought, "What does it matter if she does or not?  You're still married, aren't you?"  I see many women use bisexuality as an excuse to throw morality out the window, and now I am seeing women using the closeted lesbian thing as a reason to cheat on their husbands.  I just think that's wrong.  That is not to say that I haven't been guilty of it, because I think we all know that I have -- and I learned the hard way that it hurts innocent people.  It never ends well for you, for your husband, or for the girl you are dating.  Maybe all three will get hurt, maybe only two of the three, or maybe only one.  You don't know who it will be, though, and you can almost guarantee that everyone won't escape that situation unscathed.  Take my word for it.

Veruca Salt

"Leave me, lying here, 'cause I don't wanna go..."

I made a Pandora station today, and it totally rocks!!!  I do, of course, have entirely too much time on my hands.  As you can see, when I have an excess of time, it becomes largely consumed with writing and music.  I have discovered a few things about some of my all-time favorite bands over the last few days.  First, Veruca Salt.  I can't exactly call them an all-time favorite, because their time was sadly short-lived.  However, I thoroughly enjoyed their sound.  When Volcano Girls came on my Pandora station, I got all happy inside as a big wave of nostalgia overcame me.  Yeah...those were the days.  I clicked on the little bio on the bottom, which took me to another page.  Below the bio were some comments, and someone mentioned that Veruca Salt had been influenced by The Breeders.  What is this you say?  Another band I must check out, apparently.

I am one of those people who discovers great music waaaaaaaaay too late in life, and feels ripped off.  I didn't hear any Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, or Bob Marley until I was 22.  All I could think about was how many years I could have enjoyed such great music that I had missed out on.  I never listened to the Beatles, really, until I was 26.  Yes, 26.  I was lucky enough to discover SOME great obscure bands that to this day remain undiscovered by most of my mainstream friends, but many others have STILL escaped my notice.  I continue to discover new stuff that's been around forever and be totally sad about it on a constant basis.  Sometimes it's weird, like with Alice in Chains.  I totally listened to Pearl Jam and Nirvana, but never really paid much attention to Alice in Chains besides what was played on the radio.  Why?  Same genre, same time period, everything!  I listened to Paula Cole, Natalie Merchant, Sarah Mclachlan, Shawn Colvin, Tracy Bonham, Jewel, Meredith Brooks, K's Choice...but didn't discover Liz Phair until I was 23.  Again, all in the same genre, same time frame...I just somehow overlooked her.  Hell, I even had an Abra Moore CD -- who has heard of HER -- but no Liz Phair.  I had Tori Amos, Poe, Drain STH, Kittie, L7 -- oh yeah, that brings me to my next one.  I listened to L7, but until just today, had not heard of Bikini Kill.  Loved Joan Jett, but until I watched a movie on Netflix about 2 weeks ago, had never heard of The Runaways.  *sigh*  I love music.  So anyway, this Pandora station is great, because I put in music I like, and it plays things that are similar.

For example, I LOVE LOVE LOVE that song "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele.  I don't know what it IS about her, something about her voice, the way she sings it...it just GETS me.  Ooooh, I get goosebumps.  I don't necessarily care for the lyrics, they aren't so happy, but just grooving out to the sound and the melody, oh!  That's what I love about a good song.  Of course, I can really appreciate masterfully written lyrics, also.  Take, for example, almost anything by Tool.  Especially "The Pot" -- I love the part where he says, "Liar, lawyer, mirror show me -- what's the difference?  Kangaroo done hung the guilty with the innocent".  MAYNARD!!!!

I hate the weather today, it totally sucks.  My biceps still hurt, but I have to work out today.  No excuses!  I took yesterday off, so if I don't do it today, I just KNOW I'll be off the wagon.  "Off the wagon and on the town!"  Sorry, singing L7.  Oh, I have had a LOT of coffee today.  I'm all over the place!!!  Deep breath.  Focus.  Okay.

Someone on AfterEllen posted about how much she hates all these married closeted bisexual/lesbian women flirting, and I completely recognized the wisdom in that.  I'm glad that I made the decision that I did, because I think the biggest disservice I've always done myself after ending any relationship is not taking enough time for myself.  If you are pursuing another relationship while you're still IN one, you're not giving yourself ANY break.  I have learned -- the HARD way -- that you need a time in between for healing and reflection.  It has never ended well for me when I have overlapped or gone straight from one relationship to another.  I DO have a tendency to do that, though, because it IS hard to be alone!  I'm not going to lie, I hate being alone.  I'm a big talker, so it's hard for me not to have someone to chat with all the time.  That's why I really need FRIENDS right now.  Having friends will satisfy my need for adult conversation, and I can give myself the time I need to work on myself.  You want to already BE complete when you find someone to be with -- not give them half a person, expecting them to complete you.  You want to find someone to share your happiness with, not someone to MAKE you happy.  If you aren't ALREADY happy, you aren't ready for a relationship. 

Why is it so much easier to know what to do than to actually do it?  Theory/practice.  I sound like I'm totally together, but I'm a total mess.  Story of my life...

L7

"Liars, losers, coming at me
What I need is sanctuary
Minding my own business
Getting in my face
Violating my personal space..."

I'm a...FREAK MAGNET!  I've got...JERK APPEAL...ahhhhhhhh I LOOOOOOVE L7!!!  Hahahaha, I was quite the fiesty little bitch when I was a teenager.  They remind me a lot of Joan Jett, who I am also enamored with.  Yeah, I even like Courtney Love.  What about it?  I was thrilled when Kittie came onto the scene!  I was a little more hardcore, but life took the wind out of my sails.  I had sassy feminist quotes scrawled all over my notebooks, I wore neon green mascara (yeah, they actually used to make that stuff), and I had this bad ass haircut -- I guess it's called a "concave bob" but basically it was shaved in the back, long in the front, and I had bright red streaks in the front.  Then teal.  Then magenta.  I miss that time of my life, because I was outspoken, expressive, free to be whoever the hell I wanted to be.  I didn't give a damn what anyone thought about it. 

I found the funniest thing yesterday.  I was looking at my old yahoo account, and there is a link on it to some very old (and very bad) poetry.  I wrote it when I was 23, I think.  It was just before I left my first husband.  Anyway, it was on this poetry site, and my user name there was RiotGrrl.  I laughed to myself and wondered if anyone even knew what that meant anymore.  Then I laughed even harder, because for such a "RiotGrrl", I had ended up spending 3 years with a major abusive douche bag.  Nice.  That's not a very feminist thing to do, is it? 

I had spent all these years talking about how I would NEVER let a man dominate me, and I would DEMAND to be treated as an equal, and I would be DAMNED if any man would order me around or lay a hand on me...then I looked like a total hypocrite.  I know one person for sure lost all respect for me and stopped being my friend.  Let me tell you a little secret, though -- when you are with someone who treats you badly, it absolves you of all guilt for any of your minor transgressions.  I knew that anything I might do would pale in comparison to his horrible treatment of me.  Looking back, this is probably why I always chose the loser.  It made me feel better about the things about myself that I could not control, including my chronic dissatisfaction and misbehavior in relationships.

This brings me to the part about my previous bisexuality which probably gave other bisexuals a bad name.  To any bisexuals reading this, accept my apologies.  I came across as one of those people who could not be satisfied with just one partner, who needed to have "one of each", and who therefore was not capable of monogamy.  The issue was not greed, or a need for two partners or relationships.  It came down to plain and simple cowardice.  I never wanted or needed both the man and the woman, as evidenced by the fact that I would eventually sleep with a woman without the inclusion of the man.  I wanted the relationship with the man for appearances and acceptance by my family.  I have never felt completely accepted by my family.  I've always been the odd one out and I ache for the slightest acknowledgement.  I don't fit in like my brother and sister do as it is, and I fear that an unconventional relationship would only rock the boat more.  I don't know if the already strained relations between myself and my parents could handle any additional stress.  Then again, I don't know why I care so much about what they think, or why I try so hard to be what I think they want me to be.  I took out my facial piercings at age 28 because of how judgemental my fucking family is!  That's unbelievable!

This is why I don't think polyamory will work.  It wouldn't be fair to my husband or to any woman I would begin dating.  She would be the primary love interest, yet she would be in the background.  By all appearances, he would be front and center, yet he would really be nothing more to me than a really good friend.  I do, however, think it is very important for me to take some time before I do ANYTHING.  I want to set a goal of working toward a divorce next year, but telling him now that's what I want.  We'll obviously live together in the meantime but we barely sleep together anymore anyway so that part won't be an issue. 

Tori Amos

"She's been everybody else's girl
Maybe one day she'll be her own
Everybody else's girl
Maybe one day she'll be her own..."

I used to listen to that entire CD, Little Earthquakes, and just cry.  I had it during an abusive relationship, so a lot of the songs hit home in a major way.  Crucify, Girl, China, Precious Things, Winter (because it reminded me of my dad)...well, pretty much the whole CD.  Tori is my GIRL!  I can tell that she feels things intensely, like I do.  It comes through in her voice, and I can see it in her face when she is singing.

Once, three friends and I got GREAT seats to a Tori concert.  It was unbelievable -- we were four rows from the stage, and directly in the center!  It was an outdoor concert and the weather was perfect.  We all dressed up and had such a great time.  We could see the saliva dripping onto the microphone, THAT is how close we were!  I do remember feeling pretty bad, though, because one of the other girls kept complaining that some of the people around us were singing along.  I know that I was doing it too, but I couldn't help it -- I know we all came to hear TORI sing, and I wasn't trying to sing over her or anything.  It's just that I can't hear a song that I love without singing along, it just isn't possible for me.  I did it at the Sarah McLachlan concert, too.  I feel terrible if if bothers anyone, and I try to be quiet, but that's the best I can do.

Today I finished day 7 of the 30 Day Shred.  I have lost 3 pounds so far, which really pisses me off because this is a SUPER HARD workout.  It's only 20 minutes long, but I sweat buckets and I basically collapse when I'm finished.  Last summer I weighed 120 lbs, and I weigh 133 right now.  This is NOT COOL.  I think it's because I'm getting closer to 30 or something.  Whatever it is, I'm not digging it.  I am moving up to level 2 in the workout on Monday, so the pounds better start dropping!

You may notice I'm not so obsessed with this whole "I'm a lesbian" thing.  Well, someone made a really good point on one of the websites I was on.  She said not to let it take over your life and I realized that's totally what I was doing.  I have a tendency to let things consume me, and I decided to try something different this time.  Balance.  Maintain perspective.  I'll still talk about coming out and what I'm going to do, but I have time.  For example, one possible option -- to transition into a polyamorous relationship.  Is it for me?

That option has its appeal because I don't have to change my life too much, but if I'm completely honest with myself, I would choose it only for convenience.  It's not really what I WANT, but if I decided what I REALLY want is too hard, and I'm not strong or brave enough to end this relationship, I could always string him along and pretend I still want this relationship while pursing the relationship I REALLY want.  Now, does THAT sound fair?  No.

Tracy Bonham

"Behind every good woman lies a trail of men
Shame shame for the rooster, high five for the hen
Don't ask where she's going, don't ask where she's been
Behind every good woman lies..."

...a trail of men.  ;)  Well, behind THIS good woman there certainly does.  I realize this blog is jumping all around, and in these first few entries, I expect that I will.  My consciousness is flooded with so much right now that it's intense to sort through it all.  I'm jumping back and forth from my past to my present, realizations (too late) and connections, understanding and regret, and trying now to make sense of so much that didn't make sense before.  I'm reviewing my past with this new lens, to see if it looks any different or makes more sense with this new realization.  It's like when you watch a movie and there is some major twist at the end, and it makes you want to watch the whole movie again to see if it makes the movie seem any different, now that you know.  If there were any signs, any clues.  If the movie makes any more sense now that you know this key fact -- like in The Sixth Sense, when you find out at the end that Bruce Willis is dead.  Doesn't everyone have the impulse to watch the whole movie again, to see how they could have missed that?  Well, that's how I feel.  I feel like I have to go through my whole life again, to see how I could have missed this.  Were there signs that I was gay?  I feel like this is the sudden twist but if I looked closely, there must have been clues.

I mean, who am I kidding, right?  I already admitted I was bisexual.  Couldn't it have been conceivable, then?  I never really entertained the possibility.  Strangely, though.  I am still searching for the answer as to why.  Was it religion?  I rejected my religion on grounds of sexism at a fairly young age.  I have been a feminist as early as I can remember.  In fact, I still have a book that I checked out of the library when I was 8 years old called "Rebel in Petticoats" which chronicled the life of suffragette Elizabeth Cady Stanton.  When I did speeches in English class, I would talk about the subjugation of women, how women made on average twenty-five cents on the dollar less than their male counterparts in the workforce (this was during my sophomore year, the figure may have changed by now), female circumcision in other countries, and other gender inequalities.  My church did not allow women to vote and when I stumbled upon the verse in the bible that mentioned some silly nonsense about women remaining silent and not being allowed to teach, I rejected Christianity altogether.  I would have no part in an organization that did not regard me as an equal, because I firmly believed that no man was above any woman, and I refused to let anyone tell me any different. 

Of course, I'm going off on a tangent, but my point is this:  I had no problem asserting my feminism despite the fact that it went against my religious teachings.  So, if I felt that I was attracted to women, why would religion have stopped me in that regard?  It couldn't have been religious guilt.  It must have gone deeper than that.  I must have felt that it was truly, morally WRONG and DIRTY.  I'm not sure why, though.  Society?  My parents certainly never directly said anything like that, although of course they expected me to date boys.  I mean, that IS the status quo for a girl, is it not?  I remember having a dream when I was about 13 about having sex with a girl, and I woke up horrified.  There was this part of myself -- this subconscious, this uncontrollable -- that had betrayed me, and there was nothing I could do to force it to THINK what I wanted to think, to OBEY me, and I was terrified at that thought.  That my dreams were beyond the scope of my control.  At least when I think, if an unwelcome thought enters my brain, I can say, "LALALALALALA" or think of something else.  This dream, though...what did it mean?  What did that say about me?  I felt filthy.  I tried to rationalize it away and force myself to forget about it and pretend any number of things to ease my conscience, but that my rebellious mind could go to a place that I was so uncomfortable with had deeply unsettled me.  Why?  I still don't know.

When I lost my virginity, the decision was made with a clinical detachment.  It was time, I wanted it to be done and over with.  I didn't want that hanging over my head so I decided to get it out of the way.  I didn't even have a boyfriend when I made the decision -- actually, I was 13 when I made the decision, which really worried my mom.  It wasn't that I was uncontrollably horny or anything, I just didn't want this VIRGINITY thing to have any power over me anymore.  When you're a teenager you give an improper amount of power to this silly thing, and it was looming over me.  I wanted to know what I was doing when the time came, so I read a lot of books, listened to a couple books on tape, and did my research until the BIG DAY when I was 15.  It really sucked, which I hear is common for most girls for their first time.  The next time sucked, and the time after that, and the time after that...

I kept doing it, though.  I never had an orgasm -- at ALL, even from myself -- until I was 18, but I was quite promiscuous.  Why?  If I didn't enjoy it, why did I do it?  Well, if you ask me now, I will probably tell you I think I did it because I was supposed to like it, and I wanted people to think I liked it.  That's not really all of it, though.  Sexuality and emotion are not so separate for me, and not everything is so black and white.  I might be realizing now that I am gay, and I might agree even "reviewing the tapes" that I was never sexually attracted to a man, but I have loved men.  And although I may not have enjoyed having sex with them, I knew that they enjoyed having sex with me.  In a teenage girl's mind, giving a boy sex seems like a reasonable way to make him love you.  It is a gift you can give him that will make him happy, and if he is happy, he will stay.  Of course I learned, like every other teenage girl, that it doesn't work out that way.  And, straight or not, I suffered heartbreak right along with the rest of them.

Sarah McLachlan

"The night is my companion
And solitude my guide
Would I spend forever here
And not be satisfied?"

Sarah McLachlan.  We'll start there.  I remember hearing that song, Possession, feeling it fill me.  I was very nearly obsessed.  I felt such a raw passion coursing through me, an animalistic hormonal driving need.  It was like nothing I had ever felt for my husband, and the hearing that song put my lustful infatuation to music, spoke it in words, set it to a beat.  I knew what she meant, I understood what she was saying.  Too late in life I finally could relate to what everyone had been trying to prepare me for when I hit puberty, the raging hormones and fits of passion.  That heady rush of senseless impulsive giddiness.  Attraction.  Lust.  I always thought there was something wrong with me, but sitting in my car this night, singing it with Sarah, I felt it.  So strong, so uncontrollable, that it was pretty scary.  Of course, that was Juliea.  I fell in love with her, which was a mistake -- she had told me from the beginning that although she liked to sleep with women, she couldn't imagine ever falling in love with one.  I hadn't meant to.  I had a husband, after all.  She had a boyfriend.  I think she may have sensed that I had developed an emotional bond, and she began to distance herself from me.  She started spending more time with another woman, which had the effect of breaking my heart.  I can't explain why.  Later on, I ended up leaving my husband.  I just wasn't in love with him.

I found another boyfriend, and later a girlfriend also.  (I never had any problem admitting I was bisexual -- even to my family.  I think it's because it is more socially acceptable, I can feel like I am "open" and my family can feel like they are "accepting", but as long as my main relationship is with a guy and I am not shoving my girl on girl sexuality in their face, everyone is happy.)  The boyfriend and I didn't work out, and the girlfriend and I were still living together.  I did love her, but I was scared to death -- because all of a sudden, this changed the dynamic.  I was okay with saying "I'm okay with people being gay and you better accept that about me" and my family would say "Okay honey" and I'd marry a guy and they'd pretend if I had married a woman that they'd have accepted me all the same, but really I never wanted to test how far that acceptance really went.  Because I knew deep down it was all a farce.  I wasn't REALLY brave and they weren't REALLY accepting.  If the boyfriend was gone, and that left only the girlfriend and me, sooner or later someone would wonder.  How would I explain that?  Was I ready for that?  I decided I wasn't, and ran as far and fast from her as I could. 

It has been five years and I am married now.  I had this dream a few weeks ago about her.  At first, I mistakenly interpreted that dream to mean that I was still in love with her.  In fact, under the influence a few months ago, I thought that I was still in love with her.  I realized, though, that I missed a part of myself that she REPRESENTED.  Just as I used to have dreams about this boy I dated in high school.  I tried to reconnect with him when I was 23 and it was a horrible disaster.  The dreams did not mean that we were destined for one another -- it meant that I missed a part of me that he represented.  The carefree, fun-loving, no responsibilities, 17 year old me.  I loved being 17.  I really missed that part of my life, and he was a part of it.  Well, when I was with her, I was being true to myself.  The funny thing is, it may have taken me much longer to come to these realizations if not for my husband.  He said, as we were arguing, that I was gay -- and in that moment, suddenly I realized that he was right.  Secretly inside I had been wondering for a long time, but had never said anything to him about it.  Suddenly everything came flooding over me, and for the next few days I had nothing but questions.  It was overwhelming.  I cried myself to sleep that night -- I thought it would be a relief, but it created more internal chaos than it mended.  I thought a big weight would be lifted off me, but instead it was like a big burden was set squarely on my shoulders.

How could I NOT have known?  All of a sudden, I started seeing all these "signs" that had been there all along.  Did anyone else know?  Suspect?  What do I do now?  Do we get a divorce?  Do we stay together?  Do I tell my family?  Do I tell anyone? 

I must have just assumed that I could not be a lesbian, because I thought of lesbianism as some kind of penis allergy.  I have successfully inserted a penis into my vagina and not had an adverse reaction, therefore I must not be a lesbian!  I had the impression that if I were gay, I would have known beyond a shadow of a doubt, and I never had that absolute certainty.  Men didn't REPULSE me.  It was much more subtle than that for me, which is why I think it took so long to click.  Men didn't turn me OFF -- they just didn't turn me ON.  For me, to look at a man -- even the HOTTEST man -- is like, ehhhhhhh.  I never get that tingle.  That "oooooh", that "ahhhhh".  Oh baby, oh baby.  I guess I must have just thought I hadn't looked at the right guy yet, or I'm not easily excitable.  Women, on the other hand?  Yes, plenty of them can get me all hot and bothered.  Did I ever question why looking at a woman can turn me on, and looking at a man never does?  I guess I thought maybe women were just made to be more visually stimulating.  That it was normal.  I also rationalized why I had never had an orgasm during sex with a man, because many women don't.  To be fair, that IS true.  I'm not the ONLY one who doesn't orgasm from penetration, AND there are lesbians who ENJOY penetration.  Not a matter of orientation there.  It insults my husband a little that looking at his penis is no more exciting to me than looking at his arm or his knee, but hey, I'm honest.  Another thing that complicates things, though -- I DO love him.

So what now?  What about THAT?  I'm not just going to say, "Oh, sorry, honey.  I'm gay, so good luck with life."  I'm not going to pack up and leave, after we have made a life together, and live in a house together.  My son and daughter know him as their stepfather, and his son accepts me as his stepmother.  We are a family, and we love eachother, despite everything.  So, okay, I can accept it now, I'm gay.  I know this.  It's so much more complicated that just moving to Saugatuck and meeting a nice girl to settle down with, you know.  He supports me, but really, what IS there to do?  I feel so trapped and hopeless.  This is the life I chose for myself, and it is the WRONG life.