burning like matchsticks in the face of the darkness

via jadasc on Twitter: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4oiLfTnrC40&feature=youtu.be

I sent it to my parents -- for the punning and also 'cause, marmosets.

My dad replied:

Tee hee. Unfortunately, they didn't have any of the beautiful orange-haired ones because they are technically tamarins. The two groups are so similar books usually cover them together: "marmosets and tamarins."

I forwarded this to a few people, saying:

My parents met when they were both working in a bookstore. My mom's a redhead, and practically the first thing my dad said to her was (excitedly), "You look like a golden-lion tamarin" (he then found a picture in a book to show her). I feel this story goes far in explaining how I came to be the person I am :)

I don't know if she still has it, but I have memories of my mom's stuffed animal that looks much like the mother monkey in this photo:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/35040514@N07/3252204543/

Apparently how I find this story self-explanatory is not intuitively obvious to everyone? Anyway.

Dear Mom and Dad:

Thank you so much for having such a strong, healthy marriage.  I'm learning to be really hesitant about committing for life as I've been watching people I love struggle with difficult, difficult things, and I was thinking just now that it's so easy for these examples of struggle and failure to become my dominant models because I'm much more actively engaged with/aware of them (whereas happy marriages just blend into the background), and so I am so grateful that my primary model is the two of you.

Love,
me

Closer in to Teele Square (coming along Broadway from where I live) all the sidewalk snow is gone, which was disconcerting. Frustrating, however, was that the traffic lights were just flashing yellow, so I had to wait for a lull in traffic and kinda dart across. (I was also annoyed because to look at the traffic lights required me to basically look into the sun.) When I came back about an hour and a half later, I was pleased to see what looked like someone working on the base of one of the signal poles. Though six and a half hours later when I was heading to the train station it was (still) blinking. Hee, I'm thinking of The Twelve Pains of Christmas -- "now why the hell are they blinking?"

I want basic black non-leather shoes and boots (approx. ankle height so I can easily wear them with jeans), appropriate for both outdoors and at work. This should not be that difficult. And also dress pants that fit. (Scrub pants like for the gym would be an added bonus. Oh, and pajamas. And possibly some new bras. I'm so demanding, I know. I really just want this stuff to magically appear in my bedroom as I do not enjoy clothes shopping much at all.)

Also: my hair is annoying me. Why does it do that stupid curling out thing?

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Advent meditation: Isaiah 9:2-7 (RSV)
     Alex did the meditation. He talked about how the "For unto us a child is born" bit is so familiar to him from growing up in a church (especially a church where "the Christmas Eve service was always led by the youth") and then said, "I'm not sure that I had ever read carefully the full passage from Isaiah in which that phrase appears. What strikes me most in doing so is that beside and among the joyful passages that I remember so clearly are references to oppression and battle that on first glance sit oddly with the message of hope. If Christ's appearance did not bring about an end to these sources of suffering, it seems a bit less clear what to make of the uplifting sides of the story on which we prefer to focus." He concluded, "though it may not be apparent, the spread of peace will continue, and the message of Christ will play its role in that process."

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joy sadhana for Advent (23)

"Joy Sadhana is a daily practice in the observation of joy." -mylittleredgirl [more info]

And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before our God to prepare the ways, to give knowledge of salvation to God's people by the forgiveness of sins. By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."
-Luke 1:76-79

Five good things about today:
1. I got about 8 hours of sleep.
2. I got lovely Christmas cards from my grandparents and from Layna. Dude, I am impressed at the home-made-ness of your card. The text inside is too cute not to share.

Happy Christmas!

May peace and joy be with you.

Love,
Layna

PS Can you maybe teach me to love winter?

3. I got picked up on the train. I was reading Our Lives As Torah and as we pulled in to Norwood Central they announced we were gonna be standing by for a few minutes, and this guy sitting across from me asked me about the book I'd been reading, said he'd seen it a number of places but had never read it. It's possible he was just making this up, but there was at least some effort (I have low expectations from random guys, what can I say?). He was un-creepy enough that I let him give me a ride home (he lives in Walpole but parks at Norwood Central, which makes sense since the Walpole train station's kind of in the middle of nowhere) and he didn't try to kiss me goodnight as I'd feared he might. He invited me for coffee or a drink and I said I had to get home since my parents were expecting me for dinner, and that tomorrow I would be doing family stuff but possibly later in the week (he works at Fidelity, near South Station). I didn't feel like we really clicked, but I'm willing to try some practice at this dating thing (assuming he actually calls).
4. Shells & cheese for dinner at my parents' house.
5. Being with my parents and brother makes me really really happy.

Three things I did well today:
1. I woke up (and got up) before my 9am alarm yet again.
2. I did assorted errands.
3. I did some back-tagging. [I have 996 tags. This 1000 tag limit makes me wanna cry. I can delete the "movies: watched" by year tags 'cause most movies I watched well after they came out anyhow, but I like being able to divide tv shows by season. There are single-use tags I can collapse into broader tags and it won't be horrific. But I have hundreds, probably thousands, of entries which are tagged minimally if at all, and part of the way I motivated myself to push through was to allow myself to just give things unique tags, knowing I could go back and figure it all out later.]
Bonus: Lay-reading.

Two things I am looking forward to (doing [better]) tomorrow:
1. Figuring out details for the Greece-and-Italy trip with my brother.
2. Super tasty baked goodness from my mom. And possibly non-perishable gifts as well.
Bonus: Secret Slasha (and Yuletide).

Sarah Green's sports column in Thursday's metro opened: "This is more like it.  Recriminations, second-guessing, anguish --- this is what October baseball in Boston is supposed to feel like." ("Things are back to normal in Hub," p. 23)

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Friday morning gym, elliptical: interval program ( times )

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I did FreeRice.com more thoughtfully on Friday and progressed much better than I did on Thursday.  (I am also starting to learn some new words just because the site times out and they reuse words sometimes.)  At Level 47 I mostly had no clue (ditto 46).  I did get amaurosis [46] = blindness, because I thought of amanuensis1, which reminded me of the term "amanuensis" from my Milton class.

I correctly guessed that sprat = small herring, so the "Jack Sprat could eat no fat . . ." nursery rhyme now particularly amuses me.

I also correctly guessed littleneck [40] = quahog, because thanks to Family Guy I knew what a "quahog" was (have never heard the term "littleneck").

Heh, "cacography" = "bad handwriting" (like "cacophony" + "calligraphy").

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I finally actually started looking at Simmons' library science program.  I know Jessie hated it, but I get the impression that nobody really likes their Library Science program, everyone just suffers through it to get the degree.  And Amy loves the kidlit portion of her dual-degree program, so that's a thought as well.

I don't feel excited looking at any of the classes, so then I ask myself, "Well what would I want to have a library science degree in order to do?" and I don't have much of an answer for that question.

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My mom asked if I was coming to Singspiration, and when I said yes, she said: "We'll slaughter the fatted shells&cheese" ♥

It having been six weeks since the last one, I had to re-adjust.  Hymnals under the pews, sitting for the songs, none of the hymns have been PC-ified.  I actually enjoyed most of the songs, though -- which I don't always. 

( hymn list )

I was showing off my autographed copy of Da Book (complete with sticky note on the spot in the Acknowledgments where my name is), and I showed Joe F., knowing he would be pleased.  He said, "Nothing you could do would surprise me -- the sky's the limit."  I pointed out that that was poor phrasing -- "even if I became a godless communist?"  He just laughed.

Oh, and in showing Mike F. (who was the first person I showed that night), I realized there are whole paragraphs I haven't read -- the Advance Praise bits :)

I gave Mike F. a back/shoulder massage, and he did like the human equivalent of a dog wagging its tail.  I gave Joe F. a shoulder massage, and he was mostly non-responsive, but at one point he did say it felt good, to which I responded, "That's the point."

I was talking with George K., and he was saying how I used to be really shy but I've come into my own.

My mom and I were chatting with Joe F. later, and he mentioned -- which he had told me in a letter about a year ago -- how he was willing to become a JP to perform a civil union between two women.  He said that if two people want to commit their lives to each other, regardless of their gender . . . he just doesn't want the word "marriage" used.  I said that I would be happy to let churches keep the word "marriage" and have the legal term for all couples be "civil unions."  I forgot about the "separate but equal" analogy until I was writing this up just now, and I still don't entirely know how to parse his position on this issue (we've really only discussed the "let the people vote" aspect, and I make assumptions because I know he's longtime close friends with PB -- "I didn't jump. I took a tiny step and there conclusions were."), but I keep mentally replaying that phrase "regardless of gender."  And I really love that the couple in question is the couple who left UCN.

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Last minute, Allie invited me to have lunch with her on Saturday 'cause she was gonna be in town looking at apartments, so I ended up at the Boston Vegetarian Food Festival basically only long enough to say hi to Heather.

We had lunch at Arrow Street Crepes with Kath.  I got a sweet crepe with bananas and stuff (Metro).  Tasty.

Her next apartment viewing was right near Central Square T, so we walked there (and I recalled various times with Nicole) and then Kath and I walked around while Allie and her mom looked at the apartment.  I've mostly only walked along Mass Ave., so it was neat to walk around some residential areas and parks and stuff.  And despite not really sharing fandoms we talked fandom easily.

Afterward, we went to Million Year Picnic and stuff and then had dinner at wagamama -- where Allie's mom was generous enough to treat all of us.  I was unimpressed with the vegetarian options (though pleased to see that they sell Riesling by the glass -- which I didn't order but which I always check for).

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In Friday's metro I read a review of The Veiled Monologues, so Saturday night I went to see it.

The women interviewed were Dutch Muslims -- and all four actresses are Dutch, and at least two have Turkish ties.  They're all fair-skinned (three dark-haired and one blonde), but they all have meat on their bones.  Dance and song/music happened throughout.

It was really interesting hearing some stories of very positive sexual/nudity experiences as well as incredibly negative ones (one woman described her experience of her vagina as like that kind of torture where you're tied to the ground and a goat licks the salt off your skin until it cracks).  And the positive and negative contrasts between Muslim men/culture and Dutch men/culture.  I was also impressed at the amount of queerness.  Some women were raped by family members or family friends, and no one talked about it or protected them; others had their first sex with family members and were glad to have that first experience be one of safety and love.  Some women talked about wanting to be raped because then they would be freed of this burden of virginity but their honor would still be safe.  I really liked that there were so many stories of opposite experiences, because it meant you couldn't easily leave with a monolithic idea of what Muslim culture means for women's sexuality.  Female "circumcision" even got discussed.

A Moroccan woman used the word "cunt" [pronounced "koont"] -- said vagina sounded French, the language of where she was born.

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This morning, OriginalRoomie said that when she moves out I can have her room if I want.  I'd actually been thinking about this, and wondering whether it felt worth moving all my stuff.  She said "walk-in closet," and if her closet really is better than mine I think I'm sold.

This means she'd be showing what's currently my room, which is added incentive for me to make it actually look presentable (though she's not moving out for like six months).  I'm already starting to feel the pressure, though, 'cause I find myself looking for things and forgetting where I've stored them.  I swear I still have my bartending book plus my massage class books/notebooks, and I can't find them anywhere.  I tore through 14 boxes and then realized I'd forgotten about the 9 boxes under my bed.  I still didn't find them, which means I'm gonna have to dig through the boxes more carefully, since they can't have vanished.  Though I will probably just beg Palmer for another copy of the Massage 1 booklet.  I have learned not to trust people's enthusiasm for being practiced on (I didn't get credit for Massage 1 'cause I didn't have the 30 credit hours -- I probably could have begged some sort of extension, but by that time I'd gotten an office job and didn't think I'd have the time/energy to continue the program, so I didn't bother) but I think I could probably actually make it happen a few times given the responses I've been getting recently, and I'd like to be able to do it for real rather than just the bits I remember.

Having numerous people actually be enthusiastic about being practiced on, I've been wondering whether I'd want to take classes at Palmer again.  I'm really not sure I'm committed enough.  Plus the scheduling is bothersome.  ( information for my own reference )

Dear Cat:

This morning I glanced at the clock and it was 7:09 and I thought of you. You have corrupted me!

Love.

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Also:

Talking with a friend about her difficult parents, clearly it's time for yet another reminder that my parents are wonderful and amazing.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled LiveJournal.

My first year of college was the worst year in my life (and second year ranks way down there too). I was consistently surprised, and extremely happy, that Elizabeth's first year wasn't miserable. In fact, her whole college experience has been basically good. That's largely because of the people she has known. So to everyone who has come her way and helped make something good, all you right, left, gay, straight, in person, in pixels, all the many, many ways you are, thank you. I will always be grateful to you.

-RAS

Edit: My mother adds:

Ditto to the open letter. Made me tear.
Three cheers for Hermione's people!

So, it's Sexual Abuse Awareness Week, and the campus is littered with chalkings for it as well as the SGA elections. The Clothesline Project is up per usual. Apparently they're giving out purple armbands for survivors, which i approve of, though obviously that's a really difficult thing to own up to, so there are gonna be a lot of survivors choosing to not publicize their identity as such.

Anyway, one particular story got me thinking about how my parents were always very clear on the fact that my body was mine and nobody had the right to touch me without my permission. One of the stories from my infancy is that strangers would want to hold me and my parents would tell them that i didn't like to be held by people i didn't know, and they would brush this aside and pick me up anyway and i would get upset and my parents would take me back. I distinctly remember a juvenile nonfiction book from the library -- okay, now i have to look it up... You can say "no" : a book about protecting yourself by Betty Boegehold, illustrated by Carolyn Bracken (1985). Pretty sure that's the book. Minuteman says "Golden learn about living book. Depicts children in various situations involving adults who attempt to molest them and discusses ways of preventing or dealing with such behavior." which sounds like what i remember. Anyway, it's a terrific book as i recall anyhow, and i'm glad it's still in the library. (Searching the Minuteman catalog i found other books whose Amazon covers look familiar -- My Body Is Private, Who Is a Stranger and What Should I Do?, and possibly even Something Happened and I'm Scared to Tell -- but the one i cited before is the one i most distinctly remember.)

And basic point of story is: I'm frequently reminded of why i think my parents are so amazing, and sometimes i even remember to tell them so, but this is one that i don't think of so much, but which is so very important. My parents were always very clear about the fact that my body was mine and that i got to make the rules about who was allowed to touch my body, and that i could refuse anyone even a friend or family member, and that if i got uncomfortable i could tell someone to stop even if i had said it was okay earlier. It's not something that comes immediately to mind when i think about raising kids, but it's so important. And i don't remember any particular instances of having to tell someone "no" or "stop" as a child, but i know i carried that sense of ownership and having the right to make the rules into adolescence, and into whatever we wanna call the age space i'm in now. And i try really hard to respect other people's boundaries and their requests either implicit or explicit about their own personal space. But mostly i'm thinking of situations from my adolescence, and i don't regret the decisions i made, and part of that is my parents giving me the safe space to make my own mistakes, but i definitely remember being in situations and thinking "I could tell this person to stop," and that concrete knowledge was powerful and important.

So yeah, mostly this is a thank you to my parents, because it's a strength i don't often think about, but for which i am very grateful.

So, Family Weekend begins, which means lots of parents descending upon their children's space, and many of said children thus revamping their space to hide elements of which their parents will disapprove. I forget sometimes that not everyone is as open with their parents as i am, that not everyone can be. Not that everyone necessarily should share everything with their parents, but i am so glad that i don't feel i need to hide anything from my parents.

They know that i'm queer, that i slash anything that moves, that i read&write often kinky fanfic pr0n, and none of this bothers them. They tell me about gay stuff. (I know this bothers some people, because they don't like the idea that their lives revolve around Teh Gay, but i really like Teh Gay, so it makes me happy.) They encourage me to do what makes me happy and to form my own decisions and opinions about things even when i disagree with them. They think i should be free to do as i please so long as i'm not hurting anyone, and their prime concern in terms of my life is that i'm happy. They know that i love them even though i don't miss them when i'm at school and i can't wait to move out of their house permanently.

So yeah, a big thank you to the parental units.

A conversation:

hermionesviolin: My mom says they're getting me the entire Buffy DVD series for my college graduation. :)
trijinx: ROCK! If they keep releasing DVDs on the schedule they're on (and why wouldn't they?) they'll all be out by then.
hermionesviolin: That's the hope. (And seriously, such a better graduation present than a fancy ring or something.)
trijinx: You'll be able to keep them forever and ever too. Some people get crazy stuff like cars and vacations, but those things have shelf lives. Not so with Buffy DVDs!