Wednesday May 23, 2007
Just finished Beautiful Girls. B shared it with me. It was great! We laughed a lot; I felt nervous, awkward, embarrassed with them. It’s a pretty funny idea. Plus I really love the Factotum guy, what’s his name, Matt Dillon. But, it left an unpeeled-banana-in-my-belly-heavier-than-a-soggy-wool-blanket feeling afterward. Brooding. I can’t put my finger on why exactly. I like the experience of watching movies or reading books that have absolutely zero physical contact or apparent connection with my own life but leave me in an altered emotional state.
A cup of warm tea at night is nice. Warm tea that I know is regulating my hormones so that three or four or five or six months from now, if I keep drinking my cozy warm tea every day, my face will clear up. That's the hope. Hormones are a long-time family excuse. For physical discomforts and mostly fights and bitchiness and out-of-control psychotic episodes. Obviously of the female orientation. Most of us spend 25% of our young lives, at least, on some emotional acid trip. No wonder women are strong. I tell you what, but sometimes I can be a bitch. I watch myself acting like a child feeling powerless, throwing a tantrum and don’t stop myself. And then, when the person on the other end reacts to me in kind, I go off and cry by myself. What the f%@#. This charlie foxtrot squeezing your brain all up in this small birthday package wrapped in swear words and maybe cunt and angry bees and a soft red velvet ribbon. It’s embarrassing and also there's something of value in it all. Something I'm still puzzling out.
Just finished Beautiful Girls. B shared it with me. It was great! We laughed a lot; I felt nervous, awkward, embarrassed with them. It’s a pretty funny idea. Plus I really love the Factotum guy, what’s his name, Matt Dillon. But, it left an unpeeled-banana-in-my-belly-heavier-than-a-soggy-wool-blanket feeling afterward. Brooding. I can’t put my finger on why exactly. I like the experience of watching movies or reading books that have absolutely zero physical contact or apparent connection with my own life but leave me in an altered emotional state.
*******
A cup of warm tea at night is nice. Warm tea that I know is regulating my hormones so that three or four or five or six months from now, if I keep drinking my cozy warm tea every day, my face will clear up. That's the hope. Hormones are a long-time family excuse. For physical discomforts and mostly fights and bitchiness and out-of-control psychotic episodes. Obviously of the female orientation. Most of us spend 25% of our young lives, at least, on some emotional acid trip. No wonder women are strong. I tell you what, but sometimes I can be a bitch. I watch myself acting like a child feeling powerless, throwing a tantrum and don’t stop myself. And then, when the person on the other end reacts to me in kind, I go off and cry by myself. What the f%@#. This charlie foxtrot squeezing your brain all up in this small birthday package wrapped in swear words and maybe cunt and angry bees and a soft red velvet ribbon. It’s embarrassing and also there's something of value in it all. Something I'm still puzzling out.
3 comments:
Hey lady, pleased to make your acquaintance, even if it's on the internets.
It's funny that you should write about bitchiness, because I had a dream a couple of nights ago in which I was systematically grumpy to everyone I encountered. I felt really guilty, but I just couldn't help it. When I woke up, I was mad at myself for feeling guilt-ridden in the dream. I've decided that accepting my cuntiness as inevitable is one means of controlling it. I think women too often hide their irritability so as not to seem like cunts. I've rarely heard a dude apologize for his bad moods, and I think it's time for the ladies to accept that we're not going to be sweet angels all the time. By the way, I like the word "cunt" in case you hadn't noticed. My friends and I are campaigning to make the word less like the worst thing you could ever call a woman and more like "cocky."
Oh and thanks for the comment, it really meant a lot that someone I only know in a "friend-of-a-friend" way would share such a personal story. Us post-Christians need to form a support group or something.
I know, we
still trying to figure this system out. i know, we X-X-ians lost our communities when we left our "faith." You may or may not have said, "we post-Christians need to form a support group or something" half jokingly, but it's true. When i first came back from Africa, I had this unformed understanding of my identity as an American white Chistian woman (as opposed to a poor African of any sex or religion). I felt bitter about the fact that I would never fall between the cracks because I had such a tight-knit support group of people who know people who have heard of my parents. And no matter what I do or where I go, I will always have the basics provided for me (not in a wealthy way...despite the Evangelical ideal of sharing with your brothers and sisters, we are or were a very stingy lot, on the whole). Even now, my parents' old dentist gives me fifty percent off my teeth. Ha. And sometimes my parents' old doctor sees me for free. Each and everyone of those words that defines or defined me publicly--"American," "white,"
"Christian," and "female"--kept me safe. Now that so many people know I'm not longer Christian, I've lost, in some ways, the major part of that net. The ones who keep me at their side, no matter what I say to them, they are my heroes. An old professor, my old pastor's wife, some of my friends. The others i'm sad for, and maybe someday, when we all grow up a little more, we'll come back around to each other and laugh about old times and venture into new ones together. In the meantime, I have no community and don't even know where to begin looking. Especially since i'm generally unemployed (working on becoming consistently self-employed).
Anyway, the "cunt" movement sounds genius. And I like it. I'm going to push it with my women and open-to-change men. And you're right about the bitch thing too. I have this constant tension in me, especially during my period, where I feel sorry and sometimes ashamed that i'm acting the way I am, or when i feel like i'm using my hormones as an excuse when there's never an excuse and i should always be in control, but it's not the way it is, anyway, and i hate feeling like the submissive woman, the peacemaker, homemaker, lifebringer, strong one. I love it too, at the same time. Whatever.
Nice to make your acquaintance. I'm sure we'll meet someday. You can always accompany Lauren over here when she comes to visit.
Post a Comment