family

My sister is getting married in a few weeks. July seventh of 2007. That whole lucky 777 thing. Michelle is twenty.... four? Yeah. Sean is older, but I don't know how old. Not terribly so. But I'm a bridesmaid, and I have to wear... pink. A tea length dress, strapless, one of those dresses that pushes everything where it is supposed to be, even if it's not really where it's supposed to be. Should be fun. Michelle's really stressed out, very emotional. They're getting married outside, and it should be fun.

We'll see.

Weddings are usually fun, but I'm not looking forward to standing up there next to her. Even though the bride and groom are supposed to be the center of attention, you know you're being scrutinized as well. It's going to be pretty tradtional.

My daughter is turning 6 months in less then a week. I've never heard more conflicted advice then when it comes to parenting. Whats right and wrong seem all up in the air with no facts, studies or hard evidence to back anyone up. This leaves parents, but mostly mothers conflicted, against each other and themselves. Everyone is in such a battle to be right, that no one is taking the time to see what is right for one family isn't right for another. I'm not talking about the "mommie wars" here, but every single action a parent takes in regards to parenting.

The biggest myth about Motherhood is that a mom always has to be right, do the right thing, be the best care giver for her child and NEVER EVER make a mistake or what someone else might perceive as one. Fathers on the other hand are allowed to make mistakes. A dad not knowing how to change a diaper is considered "cute", a dad who actually knows how to throw together a bottle of formula is considered a hero.

I wanted to write a post to explain why I've been so quiet and to explain what I've been struggling with, but I am too conflicted about the situation to even manage to put it into words.

My ex-boyfriend is re-entering my life, and though everyone I respect and whose judgement I trust is telling me that he's a Really Bad Idea, I'm finding that I am still in love with him.

I'm feeling like the lousiest feminist on earth right now. And no matter what I decide, I need to figure out how I can reconcile all of this inside of me.

I'm sorry.

Yesterday, February 26, 2007 at 4:45pm, my grandmother, a woman of the past generations, a proud democrat, a leading activist, california native, ballbusting woman of the new millenium, an amazing person, passed away in a hospital near our house. She was an amazing woman.

Her bookshelves were filled with titles by Barack Obama, Virginia Woolf, Betty Friedan, Issac Asimov, Bill Clinton, L.E. Modesti Jr., and so many other people. She was neurotic to some extent, wildly obsessive-compulsive, deluded to a degree that only bad experiences and age can bring, and a hypochondriac. But she was a woman I will always be proud to have known.

Well first, I am really sorry. I know that I have not been on, but, well let's just say that I have been dealing with some really horribal stuff. You see, I have been seeing a cousoler for almost a year, twice a month. And my dad found out when my mom had to do her witness list for court. And I sighned a limited release for her to talk to him, but only about his recomendations and diagnosis. But apprently thats not enought for her. She wants a unlimited release so she can get EVERYTHING. I have went thru this before and she told my dad and i refuse to sit there and have my dad scream and yell at me.

I'm sorry for not getting on nearly as much as I would like. It seems like every single spare moment I've had over the past few months has been sucked up by something else. Maybe I should start at the beginning. I'm not trying to excuse my behavior, just trying to get by. September was obviously the last time I posted. Since then Life has been more difficult. September itself was okay, and it has been a lot easier since then. October was where some of the problems started. I don't know if any of you know, but I'm a sophomore in high school, but I attend a community college in my area, where I earn college and high school credit. I was enrolled in Intro to Chem 111 for the fall semester, as well as Intro to Sociology 121. It's obviously not fall semester anymore. As we speak I'm working on some homework for my Marriage and Family Relations class. But my grades started dropping. I was having a lot of difficulty in my Chemistry class, and the one person Ii knew in the class (who was also my lab partner) did not know anything about what we were doing. Even though I was struggling, I was tutoring her at the same time. Which took up a lot of energy and time that I didn't really have. I still had several papers to write, and a term paper for Chemistry, and still had to find time to tutor Meridith*, attend Quiz Team practices and three hour competitions at my high school, work out family issues at home and do chores, do my mountain of homework you can only fully appreciate as a college student, AND try to be an attentive friend. I was having a hard time. You see, to be eligible for the Post-Secondary Enrollment Option Program (PSEOP) at my high school, if I earn a C or worse in any of my college courses I am not allowed to take courses through the program any longer. So I spent every moment I had trying to struggle through that class, barely scraping a B. My life took a downhill roll after that. In late October I made some mistakes that ended up having monetary and emotional compensations. I lost many privelages, including computer access. Until almost December. Then Christmas came around, and you know how things get around Christmas and the holidays. Even though my semster was over and school was out on break, things were even more hectic. My sisters came home from North Carolina, Cori and Kristie, and Candace was moving. Justin came up with my pseudo-niece Haley, and James... Well. I had to spend a lot of time with him. Which was extremely difficult for me to do. Imagine being forced to sit next to someone who youve known your whole life and who your parents know sexually abused you for many years. It was emotionally atxing. I had several breakdowns those few months that only my boyfriend knew about, and had contemplated suicide when things got really difficult. Not many of you know that I deal with depression, and that I also dealt with self-mutilation for many years. Things were hard. But I tried to do my best. After New Year's everything got easier. I had invited one of my friends over, and us and my family -being lesbian, proud, and half drunk- decided to drag out all the club music we could find and have a dance party. It was great. Katie* and I didn't ge to sleep until almost five in the morning. And of course, being teenagers, we woke up after only a few hours. We got up at like nine or something to take Katie home. There are so many things that have ben runnign through my mind since then, and I'm making a promise to you all that I will do my best to try and post at least once or twice a week. Sometimes I really don't have much to say, or am too exhausted with everything going on right now with my classes, but I will do my best. I promise. So I'm sorry I haven't really been around, but I will do my best to make it up to you.

After my last post about the two books that are currently cause for so much debate in German media, I'd decided to stay out of the rink on that one. But then I ended up killing some time in the bookstore the other day to keep warm while waiting for the bus, and I read the first few pages of Nick's book. I missed the bus that day, because I got in line to buy her book, and the book she was responding to.

I read the two books in the course of two days. The first one, predictably, made me incredibly angry. That evening, I called my mother and ended up ranting to her about all of the ridiculous, dangerous and just plain stupid claims that book makes. She agreed with me on every single point. I finished my rant by saying "And *that* is why I am a feminist". My mom asked why I have to be 'that extreme' about it.

As usual, the holidays hit the highs and lows of the year. Coping with a critical break-up, graduating from college, traveling for nearly three weeks straight, family drama, job hunting--so much, so much to do. But it was my trip to visit the red, red, red relatives--funnily enough--in the Northeast.

Self-identifying as a leftist puts me on the fringes, farther out than the cousin who lived in Miami and who everyone thought was gay (without talking to him about it, of course). I didn't realize it until I went north and saw what exactly we're up against.

For my aversion to war games (apparently I'm anti-patriotic for not appreciating the World War II games with inhuman portrayals of Japanese soldiers, or so says the side of the family not bearing my Japanese grandmother), my eleven year old cousin saw fit to call me a terrorist-- or at best used the word to bait me into an argument. After quitting the conversation on the possible televising of Saddam Hussein's execution, my aunt continued to go on about CNN televising journalists who "joined" the "terrorists" and killing American soldiers. Forgive me if I don't buy your third- or fourthhand relay of the Fox News propaganda...

I haven't been around a whole lot lately and for that I apologize. I have been reading and loving everyone's entries and finding strength, joy and inspiration in them that I haven't been able to find in my own writing.

I have been trying to write an entry for several weeks now and haven't been able to get past a couple of coherent structured paragraphs. So after many frustrating hours I decided, f$@# structure, I'm just going to let everyone into my head for a little while.

New Year's is my favorite holiday. I love knowing that there is a whole new year for me to fill with the products of last year's dreams. New Year's allows me to be optimistic even when I'm at my lowest. The past year and a half has been the hardest I've ever lived through, New Year's allows me to believe that things are going to get better.

Susan Basow, the scholar most beloved by my Gender and Politics professor, called out the biggest obstacles to female-female friendships. One of them was competition for "high-status males" (uh, what). Another was the nuclear family (or its quivalent.

What Basow doesn't tell you is that the opposite is also true, that the break down of that competition and the failure of that family set-up (kids or no kids, married or unmarried, hetero- or homosexual) can really endorse and encourage those relationships we neglect.

My silence at the AGA can be attributed to a number of excuses: classes, exams, graduation, work, fights with my boyfriend; feminist issues seem to fade in the personal drama ("the personal is political" who?). While I see an opening for further discussion already (the nuclear family or the pursuit of it impedes female-female friendships and--gasp--feminism!), I mean to take a moment for a little gratitude.

I am beginning work to become a DONA certified doula, or labour assistant. One of the first steps I have to take is to read five books from a list, on breastfeeding, birth choices, and pregnancy in general. I just started reading a book called The Mother of All Pregnany Books. The author talks about how men should lay off the tobacco, drugs, and alcohol if they wish to have kids. She says "In other words, let him have all the sex and rock 'n roll he wants, just not the drugs!"

I couldn't help feeling betrayed by this woman. I take pregnancy as being quite empowering, if handled well, because woman's wisdom and bodies can do amazing things. But the author's use of the word "let" seems hardly appropriate. As if women lay around and wait for men to impregnate them. Maybe I'm reading into this the wrong way, but it just doesn't feel right to me.

Guys I realize it has been forever and a year and I intend to get back on track (it seems like I say that a lot lately)...

This month, October, has been a month of broken dreams and trying moments. First off, a dear friend of mine was arrested and incarcerated. It is not necessarily a surprise, we all saw it coming, but his troubles still hurt me deeply and I found myself somewhat depressed over it.

Secondly, I found out that someone I have known my whole life is HIV positive, and rather than being supportive, many of the people this person is close to have blamed and shunned this new status. I feel worst of all because I know how commonplace the disease is and how horrifying it can be, but I feel as though I can say nothing because I am too young and not close enough. It is a powerless feeling.

Life has been pretty hectic, but also really good for the past two weeks.

Last week, our LGBTQQAA group celebrated Coming Out week, and on National Coming Out Day (October 11th), we had a discussion about the history of same-sex relationships on our campus. We also celebrated the 20th anniversary of the "coming out" of the GSA. They did it through publishing an anonymous letter in the college newspaper, explaining that there was a queer community on campus and that they were going to petition to get student government funding for their club.

In the next issue, a reaction letter was published. Those women wrote in that they "didn't want to be known as 'the lesbian school'" and that "homosexuals should go to a college that already has that reputation--like Smith or Vassar (which had been co-ed for 17 years at that point)" and even "haven't you heard of AIDS?!?!"

We were not together for a long time, only a few months, but I loved him. And, I thought he loved me I guess. Nick and I were a good team in the beginning, we both loved many of the same things, he was supportive of me with my health problems and of my sometimes insane family. But it didn't last as long as I thought, and hoped it would. Nick changed the moment I told him I was a survivor; he thought it was something that meant I was ill, or damaged, or sick. I know these things are tough on the people we love, so I gave it as much time as he needed, but the Nick I knew never came back. He started to get really violent, and hit me, and keep me from going out with other people, my friends, because he said I was not well. But for whatever reason I still loved him even when he hurt me.

I have a number of posts waiting in the works but I had to get this one out today.

So, apparently Madonna has adopted a little Malawian boy . While I may not always agree with celebrities like Madonna, any attention by the world-at-large being given to the AIDS crisis in Africa is good news to me.

The big reason why this story stood out to me was because it reminded me of my Aunt Stella and her little baby boy Hezekiah. My Aunt Stella worked as the National Director for an organization called World Relief Malawi, in Lilongwe, Malawi. She was and still is passionate about enabling local churches to take a greater role in addressing the AIDS crisis in Malawi (as well as in Rwanda where she worked previously, and Uganda, her home country).