Book of erotica to comfort you about your recent lack of snuggles: $20.26.
Baking mix to make brownies to ease your romantic sorrow: $3.19.
Moleskine journal to document all your angst: $29.90.
Having the boy of your dreams show up at your door to ask you out unexpectedly: priceless.
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Encounters of the Adorably Awkward Kind
(Two months ago, I wrote this as a fictional introductory piece for a creative writing course. Ultimately I concluded that I hated it, & ended up submitting a poem instead. Now that I come back to it, & am no longer interested in the person I wrote it about, it actually seems kinda cute, & only a little bit crap.)
“Um… So, tell me about yourself!” he chirped, a little too cheerfully. “I mean, I know you do improv, obviously, but… what else do you do?”
I giggled nervously and readjusted myself in my seat. “I play music. Guitar, piano, ukulele, singing, writing my own songs… And I like to hula hoop, and write…”
“Do you write about me?” he asked, and suddenly my body filled with guilt as I realized it was a serious question.
I sipped my latte to stall for time. “I write about everyone in my life. It’s not a big deal. I don’t write anything bad about you. I mean, obviously I think you’re pretty great, so…” Another unattractive nervous laugh. This was not going well. “Uh, you tell me about yourself now!” Smooth.
He looked so cute. It was extremely difficult to listen because I was too busy staring. I nodded periodically to make sure he felt I was keeping up, but mostly I was thinking back to the terror I’d experienced when, a week before, I’d finally gathered the courage to march up to him and ask him if he’d maybe, um, I dunno, like to get, like, a coffee or something sometime, or whatever. And he’d said yes. Simple, like it was nothing. And here we were.
“That’s so interesting. You’re so interesting,” I replied enthusiastically. I meant it, even though I hadn’t heard a word. I mean, there’s a reason I asked him out, other than his obvious physical charms.
He took a big bite out of his espresso-flavoured brownie and I glanced surreptitiously at the clock. A few long seconds ticked by.
“So… Are you my girlfriend now?”
My stomach pretty much fell to the bottom of my abdominal cavity. I swallowed. “Uh. Do you want me to be?”
Just as he went to speak, more words poured unstoppably out of my mouth: “Because I’d be into that. But only if you are. I mean, I know we’re both super busy. So I don’t know if it’s for sure the best idea. Even though I want to. I guess. Do you?”
“Yes.”
And just like that, my lungs filled up with happy and my blood was pumping happy and my pores were dripping happy. It hurt to breathe and all I could do was smile, and then I started to laugh, and then so did he, and it was, hands down, the best date I’ve ever been on.
“Um… So, tell me about yourself!” he chirped, a little too cheerfully. “I mean, I know you do improv, obviously, but… what else do you do?”
I giggled nervously and readjusted myself in my seat. “I play music. Guitar, piano, ukulele, singing, writing my own songs… And I like to hula hoop, and write…”
“Do you write about me?” he asked, and suddenly my body filled with guilt as I realized it was a serious question.
I sipped my latte to stall for time. “I write about everyone in my life. It’s not a big deal. I don’t write anything bad about you. I mean, obviously I think you’re pretty great, so…” Another unattractive nervous laugh. This was not going well. “Uh, you tell me about yourself now!” Smooth.
He looked so cute. It was extremely difficult to listen because I was too busy staring. I nodded periodically to make sure he felt I was keeping up, but mostly I was thinking back to the terror I’d experienced when, a week before, I’d finally gathered the courage to march up to him and ask him if he’d maybe, um, I dunno, like to get, like, a coffee or something sometime, or whatever. And he’d said yes. Simple, like it was nothing. And here we were.
“That’s so interesting. You’re so interesting,” I replied enthusiastically. I meant it, even though I hadn’t heard a word. I mean, there’s a reason I asked him out, other than his obvious physical charms.
He took a big bite out of his espresso-flavoured brownie and I glanced surreptitiously at the clock. A few long seconds ticked by.
“So… Are you my girlfriend now?”
My stomach pretty much fell to the bottom of my abdominal cavity. I swallowed. “Uh. Do you want me to be?”
Just as he went to speak, more words poured unstoppably out of my mouth: “Because I’d be into that. But only if you are. I mean, I know we’re both super busy. So I don’t know if it’s for sure the best idea. Even though I want to. I guess. Do you?”
“Yes.”
And just like that, my lungs filled up with happy and my blood was pumping happy and my pores were dripping happy. It hurt to breathe and all I could do was smile, and then I started to laugh, and then so did he, and it was, hands down, the best date I’ve ever been on.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Possible lesson to be learned from last night
"Don't get your hopes up."
When I want something (or someone), I like to take the attitude that I am GOING TO get it. I visualize having it, I feel how it would feel to have it, I try to start acting like I've already got it. This is not only based on the Law of Attraction, but also just good common sense - you'll be more likely to get something if you've prepared enough to know how to deal when you do get it.
As a result of this mentality (e.g. referring to objects of affection as my "future boy/girlfriend," for one thing), I get the occasional negative person telling me not to "get my hopes up."
Personally I think this is bullshit. Obviously you should listen to your gut, so if it feels like you're definitely not going to get this thing, then you probably don't really want it anyway, & should walk away. But if you really, truly want it, & feel on a fairly regular basis that it is, in fact, within your grasp, get your fucking hopes up! If you get what you want (& you probably will), it will feel super fucking amazing - & if you don't, you'll come crashing down in a fabulous, dramatic blaze of glory! Emotion is always better than nothing at all, especially for creative artist-types, as much as you might try to deny it.
If it doesn't work out, write a song. Paint something. Eat some chocolate. Scribble on a piece of paper, then crumple it up & throw it across the room. Get in the shower & do some loud & vigorous EFT. Pop a couple 5-HTP capsules. Reach out to people who'll make you feel better. Buy yourself some flowers. Publish melodramatic blog posts or tweets (see here, here, & the very page you're on right now!). Punch a pillow. Take a walk. Spend the whole day in bed. Listen to music you love on a loop (soundtrack of my sad day today: Music For Tourists by Chris Garneau). Spend time in front of a mirror, either telling yourself you love you, or swearing an incoherent blue streak. Put on huge scarves & mittens to insulate yourself from the world. Cuddle a small animal (stuffed or real). Wear a wig. Take MySpace-angle photos of your tortured artist self. Tell yourself a dozen million times how awesome you are, in as many places, wordings, silly voices, & different outfits as you possibly can. Basically, OWN YOUR MISERY, then kick it in the face & send it packing.
No one can make you do or be anything you don't want to... & that includes emotions. Who the fuck says you have to be sad, angry, frustrated, humiliated, or anything else? You're the only one who can choose to be that way. & I say, if you choose to be miserable, do it big, allow it to inspire you in explosive ways, document the results to review in happier times, & then go do something else. Know, always, that you are loved, & that this too shall pass.
When I want something (or someone), I like to take the attitude that I am GOING TO get it. I visualize having it, I feel how it would feel to have it, I try to start acting like I've already got it. This is not only based on the Law of Attraction, but also just good common sense - you'll be more likely to get something if you've prepared enough to know how to deal when you do get it.
As a result of this mentality (e.g. referring to objects of affection as my "future boy/girlfriend," for one thing), I get the occasional negative person telling me not to "get my hopes up."
Personally I think this is bullshit. Obviously you should listen to your gut, so if it feels like you're definitely not going to get this thing, then you probably don't really want it anyway, & should walk away. But if you really, truly want it, & feel on a fairly regular basis that it is, in fact, within your grasp, get your fucking hopes up! If you get what you want (& you probably will), it will feel super fucking amazing - & if you don't, you'll come crashing down in a fabulous, dramatic blaze of glory! Emotion is always better than nothing at all, especially for creative artist-types, as much as you might try to deny it.
If it doesn't work out, write a song. Paint something. Eat some chocolate. Scribble on a piece of paper, then crumple it up & throw it across the room. Get in the shower & do some loud & vigorous EFT. Pop a couple 5-HTP capsules. Reach out to people who'll make you feel better. Buy yourself some flowers. Publish melodramatic blog posts or tweets (see here, here, & the very page you're on right now!). Punch a pillow. Take a walk. Spend the whole day in bed. Listen to music you love on a loop (soundtrack of my sad day today: Music For Tourists by Chris Garneau). Spend time in front of a mirror, either telling yourself you love you, or swearing an incoherent blue streak. Put on huge scarves & mittens to insulate yourself from the world. Cuddle a small animal (stuffed or real). Wear a wig. Take MySpace-angle photos of your tortured artist self. Tell yourself a dozen million times how awesome you are, in as many places, wordings, silly voices, & different outfits as you possibly can. Basically, OWN YOUR MISERY, then kick it in the face & send it packing.
No one can make you do or be anything you don't want to... & that includes emotions. Who the fuck says you have to be sad, angry, frustrated, humiliated, or anything else? You're the only one who can choose to be that way. & I say, if you choose to be miserable, do it big, allow it to inspire you in explosive ways, document the results to review in happier times, & then go do something else. Know, always, that you are loved, & that this too shall pass.
Monday, March 23, 2009
On being a soup can
Timeline of queerness:
Grade 2: First crush (on a boy named Merric). I told Katherine one day across the table that I thought he was cute & she told Kassa & he yelled it to the whole room & Merric never talked to me again. But he didn't talk to me in the first place to no loss.
Grades 5 & 6: Devastating crushes on boys & bullying by catty girls who ended up telling the boys.
Grade 7: Crush on one boy ('Seal'), long & winding progress that led to nothing. He dated my best friend, Camille, & I lost them both at the same time.
Grade 9: Eager to join in on the bisexual vibe at our school, I labelled myself bi-curious even though I thought it was quite a lie. This is when I jokingly started staring at girls' butts as they walked up the stairs. Later that year, I tried on bi-sexual, tired of explaining what bi-curious meant.
Summer between 9/10: Out of nowhere, a rocket of obsession & curiosity for a girl came about. For once, I believed there was something queer about me, it was thrilling.
Grade 10: I started seeing things different ways. I started hanging out with Kate & Chavery part-way through (when they started to like my loser-ness). I got over the girl of the summer, I fell hard for another girl. My first kiss with a girl (the first one that had any meaning) was in November. I'm still not over that. Nothing ended up happening past that point. At some point or another I fell in love with Tegan Quin (ha ha, I am actually wearing this right now http://www.maplemusic.com/product.asp?dept%5Fid=32&pf%5Fid=30%2D158&lang=EN) & somewhere amidst that I started using Lesbian for a label.
Grade 11 -> now: This year has been uneventful in terms of labelling, I have only changed it once. I identify as a dyke if I have to choose something, but there are exceptions. Exceptions like Cayenne & Caen, the two boys in the circle of my affection. Both of whom smiled at me today.
I find I am initially attracted to a girl, to her body. Then to her personality, or else it goes nowhere just falls flat. If I go for a boy, I'm going to fall for effeminate ones, first for their personality, then if or when it progresses, I'll get attracted to their body. It just happens.
So that's my label, that's the journey of it. If anyone remembers something I forgot, some stage along the way, please point it out.
& don't try labelling me bisexual or anything like that. I don't feel like a bisexual, as far as I'm concerned this here is a dyke.
(also, I'm desperately single. aah.)
Grade 2: First crush (on a boy named Merric). I told Katherine one day across the table that I thought he was cute & she told Kassa & he yelled it to the whole room & Merric never talked to me again. But he didn't talk to me in the first place to no loss.
Grades 5 & 6: Devastating crushes on boys & bullying by catty girls who ended up telling the boys.
Grade 7: Crush on one boy ('Seal'), long & winding progress that led to nothing. He dated my best friend, Camille, & I lost them both at the same time.
Grade 9: Eager to join in on the bisexual vibe at our school, I labelled myself bi-curious even though I thought it was quite a lie. This is when I jokingly started staring at girls' butts as they walked up the stairs. Later that year, I tried on bi-sexual, tired of explaining what bi-curious meant.
Summer between 9/10: Out of nowhere, a rocket of obsession & curiosity for a girl came about. For once, I believed there was something queer about me, it was thrilling.
Grade 10: I started seeing things different ways. I started hanging out with Kate & Chavery part-way through (when they started to like my loser-ness). I got over the girl of the summer, I fell hard for another girl. My first kiss with a girl (the first one that had any meaning) was in November. I'm still not over that. Nothing ended up happening past that point. At some point or another I fell in love with Tegan Quin (ha ha, I am actually wearing this right now http://www.maplemusic.com/product.asp?dept%5Fid=32&pf%5Fid=30%2D158&lang=EN) & somewhere amidst that I started using Lesbian for a label.
Grade 11 -> now: This year has been uneventful in terms of labelling, I have only changed it once. I identify as a dyke if I have to choose something, but there are exceptions. Exceptions like Cayenne & Caen, the two boys in the circle of my affection. Both of whom smiled at me today.
I find I am initially attracted to a girl, to her body. Then to her personality, or else it goes nowhere just falls flat. If I go for a boy, I'm going to fall for effeminate ones, first for their personality, then if or when it progresses, I'll get attracted to their body. It just happens.
So that's my label, that's the journey of it. If anyone remembers something I forgot, some stage along the way, please point it out.
& don't try labelling me bisexual or anything like that. I don't feel like a bisexual, as far as I'm concerned this here is a dyke.
(also, I'm desperately single. aah.)
Saturday, March 7, 2009
lips
a) I was around 8 when I had my first kiss. We'd gotten back from the pool & decided to play house, & I was put into the position of boyfriend. We were all girls, there were about 5 of us. One of the girls I didn't know was Daughter & I was picking her up for a date. She had been eating Gobstoppers on the way back from the pool & her mouth tasted sickly sweet.
b) The summer before grade 9 when I was still 13. My mom & her friend & I were on a road trip to film a wake boarding competition in the middle of nowhere slightly north of Niagara Falls. While there, I jumped into the river & cut myself open all over on zebra mussels. An older boy jumped in beside me & together we swam all the way down along the side of the river. He name was Mason & he was 17, tall, with blondish hair & many more experiences than my sheltered mind could comprehend. We talked all afternoon & ran around in the sun & I thoroughly enjoyed myself. At sunset we settled under a large beech tree with the dapples gold light falling between us. When his lips touched mine though, I was repulsed. Up until that point I had liked him. When we got back to the campsite I jumped into the pool to wash the taste & feel of him off of me.
c) I was in grade 10, she was in her fifth year. She was soft all over, that's one thing I remember, & she smelled like everything good & sweet in my world. When I kissed her, in the dark alcove leading into the darkroom, I felt like flames were jumping all over my body, spreading lust. I felt her lips on mine for the rest of the day & I'm still moderately upset for passing up a chance like that.
b) The summer before grade 9 when I was still 13. My mom & her friend & I were on a road trip to film a wake boarding competition in the middle of nowhere slightly north of Niagara Falls. While there, I jumped into the river & cut myself open all over on zebra mussels. An older boy jumped in beside me & together we swam all the way down along the side of the river. He name was Mason & he was 17, tall, with blondish hair & many more experiences than my sheltered mind could comprehend. We talked all afternoon & ran around in the sun & I thoroughly enjoyed myself. At sunset we settled under a large beech tree with the dapples gold light falling between us. When his lips touched mine though, I was repulsed. Up until that point I had liked him. When we got back to the campsite I jumped into the pool to wash the taste & feel of him off of me.
c) I was in grade 10, she was in her fifth year. She was soft all over, that's one thing I remember, & she smelled like everything good & sweet in my world. When I kissed her, in the dark alcove leading into the darkroom, I felt like flames were jumping all over my body, spreading lust. I felt her lips on mine for the rest of the day & I'm still moderately upset for passing up a chance like that.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
When I knew
It was ninth grade. I had only just begun to settle into my skin. I was changing on the outside (I was newly a brunette, I was wearing makeup regularly for the first time in my life) & on the inside (I had recently started at a new school & was forced to make new friends, a totally foreign concept to me at the time). I wasn't expecting any more big changes - & yet, little did I know, one of the biggest I can imagine was on its way.
That was the year I met Lana*. For the most part, she didn't interest me much at first - she, like all the rest, was searching for something, some labels to stick on herself, to "set herself apart," & the labels she had chosen bored me. All except for one: bisexual. Like many "straight" people, I was fascinated by queerness in any form. I found it intriguing that a person could, at such a young age, know themself that well, & make that information public. I envied Lana's confidence & self-awareness.
I made the classic straightie mistake of assuming that any & all positive interactions with a queer person automatically equaled flirtation. It's possible that Lana was actually flirting with me, but in retrospect, I don't think so. The very same remarks that would have seemed totally "normal" if she were straight ("I love your outfit!" "Can you help me with this essay?" "I'm so nervous for the recital!") were suddenly a danger, a challenge, a gripping plot filled with shocking twists & unsettling turns.
I was writing feverishly in my journal about how strange it was that this girl seemed to be interested in me, when suddenly it hit me: I wanted to flirt back. & not just because it would be funny. As I continued to write & delved progressively deeper into my psyche, I realized I wanted to hold Lana's hand, wanted to kiss her, wanted her to be my girlfriend. The sweaty palms in her presence, the scratchy voice when I tried to speak to her - it all made sense in a riveting flash of light. I stared down at the page before me, & with a clarity I'd never known before, wrote simply: "I am bisexual." The words looked so good to me, & I believed them.
Nothing much happened with Lana. I was still painfully shy at that point, & wasn't quite certain enough that she liked me to do anything about it. She dated some boys, & I got jealous. Summer came & went, & by the time school was back in session, I had no idea what it was about Lana that had made me so crazy for all those months. But I knew I would always remember her, because her questionable advances were what first made me realize a truth of myself that would change & guide my life.
*Name changed to protect my dignity.
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