no doubt, get loud

I dig you, darling.

Would you please get the fuck out

of my head awhile?

The earth I trudge on

groans, shrieks cautiously, and sighs,

reminders anew.

June 2005, Redondo Beach, California.

Minutes before I moved to Las Vegas.

All I can do now

is pretend I cannot hear,

save for the gavels.

export/import

The consensus lately amongst folks who take time to zero in is this: I'm tired.


Those folks happen to be right. I'm tired emotionally, often tired physically, and my spirit suffers. I'm considering my options, and actively seeking correction for each offense.






Some backstory. I would consider myself to be a bit of a caretaking sort with people I get to know on a deep personal level, be it friendship or otherwise. I believe it's something I inherited from my late gran, and chose to keep around in my behaviour.


While we may not be able to help in ways that matter to modern society (read: material items we crave), we offer help in ways that people need but cannot or do not typically voice. A shoulder to lean on, a sympathetic but non-coddling ear, warm words, a hug. A genuine many-volted smile. These gestures are extensions of our very core, things that we do for the sake of furthering someone's well-being.






I may never know, but I do wonder if my gran grew weary of this sort of routine at certain intervals. To give, you must take out of yourself, being fully aware that you may never see those portions return. 


Investing in others is risky business, though that is not always obvious. Hindsight burns, and we begin to doubt. Our idea of 'wise choice' becomes skewed, compromised. We blame ourselves for bad situations.

July '11, Trout Lake, Vancouver, British Columbia

Reflection is vital. Survival is good temporarily, but in the long run we must find something better to sustain us. Living, giving and not losing too much of our identity, spirit, and ambition must endure.

dashed with salt

There's something to be said for 'aha!' moments. They don't come often, but they come swiftly. You recognize 'em instantly when they arrive.

I've had most of my 'aha!' moments in school, primarily during math or philosophy classes (or both, if you consider that stray Intro to Logic course). I usually get a creeping sensation up the back of my neck which eventually reaches my head and won't stop until the final point of impact.

Crack.

'Aha!' I've got it.

Why didn't I see that before?

When I'm not experiencing that from school, I'm getting it from people.



Someone I am getting to know gave me that creeping sensation, especially when she told me we had a person in common. A person in common, with a heavy (albeit brief) kind of history. I browsed a few photos online, and there it was. A thought sparked and scrambled out of one photo, and into my head. It branched as far as it dared.

Oh.

Ah.

Aha! It became a memory.



All I can say is that the world can be a very small place at times. Be as kind to the people around you as you can manage; you never know when they'll show up to teach you something later.

The lessons don't ever stop. The best ones don't cost any money at all.

sticks & stones

It goes without saying that in social circles, reputation can be very important.

It's pleasing to be able to offer references to others (if deemed necessary) when coming into their world to reassure them that you're good people, whether it's for public or private events, business or casual. It's even better when you don't have to do it yourself, because mutual acquaintances and/or friends are so excited at the prospect of getting so much positive energy into a single space.

What do you do if you've had one not so rosy experience with a person, though? Two? Three? 

Would references work the converse way, where you'd warn friends about said person/people? Would it depend on the severity of the experience(s)?

Luckily, I haven't had very many bad experiences to speak of. 

If I have issues with someone directly, it may take me a moment to vocalize, but I usually attempt to sort them out with the person involved. While I don't see the harm in kvetching occasionally, I tend not to mention more benign things to friends that aren't involved unless asked, or unless they build up over time.

However, if I feel that folks I care about could be in danger as a result of interaction with Person X, I'd be inclined to tap them lightly on the shoulder, share my story, and let them draw their own conclusion.

That last bit is vital: let them draw their own conclusion.

It is absolutely not my intention to come across as a pushover of my own agenda, or to make it seem as though my friends can't take my words with a grain of salt. 

It's essential, as someone who knows me, that you make use of your own common sense.

My experiences may not be your own. That's the big hope, actually -- your experiences should not mirror my own, especially if mine were negative.

It's a delicate process, talking about people in general. 

It's increasingly fragile ground if your primary outlet in which to do so is the internet, which leads to loads of conjecture.

Comments spread like wildfire, so be careful about the matches you choose to ignite, when and where you throw them. The damage is oftentimes irreversible.

cities in common

Since last spring, I've completed two week-long trips to Boston. I might have just a tiny crush on the city.

I'd say that any time less than a week there wouldn't be fair - there's lots to take in (especially if you're from the west coast, as I am). Hell help you if you have people you know in the general Northeast area, not to mention if you happen to be travelling with someone who hails from the Northeast itself.

Boston is filled with gorgeous sights if you're lucky to catch it on a non-gloomy day, as is the case with the Northwest. Missing a glimpse of the Charles River is unacceptable. Taking the T can be quite the adventure in itself (as I can personally attest to after many mishaps on the Red). You'll also find yourself among some amazing food and drink, and insanely aggressive drivers. It is definitely a good time.


I did my second trip with my Anchor a week ago. It was a good time to take advantage of the opportunity to visit Connecticut for the first time, meet some new people and absolutely unparalleled new visions.

I have to say that the stuff I liked best about this Northeast trip were the chances I got in reconnecting with others - people who, for the most part, I'd met during my many years living in Los Angeles.

I am going to talk about three of them.



Gingerbread came to Boston on account of school, and is very passionately working at it.

He is one of the most mature teenagers I've had the pleasure of meeting, probably the result of lots of personal growth. Folks like Gingerbread just go to show you that people should not be immediately judged on the number of their years. I left our interactions feeling glad I'd reached out, and made a mental note to do more of it in the future.


Bubble made a short trip to meet me in Boston. Most of the time he was away soaking up the environment with an exciting new mademoiselle. He has the talent of coming off as full of positive energy, and he surrounds himself in a great percentage of it. I'd forgotten how easily he makes me smile with such little effort. It was truly a treat to chat with him, and I'm grateful the effort was made.


Last Chance was the one I ended being the most excited about, in the end. I'm not sure why, but our history in Los Angeles was fairly intense. Our correspondence hasn't always been strong, and I felt slightly disappointed when he chose his new home as Boston over Seattle (for obviously selfish reasons).

I can't explain why a casual trot turned into a good-to-honest sprint for a hug - in a hipster restaurant, no less. It didn't matter. I became captivated all over again, in the middle of a table of six, and digested more personal stories than I did any of the delectable food.



My last year in Los Angeles happened to be one of my most miserable. Bubble and Last Chance both contributed to bits of happiness I managed to snag along the way, so seeing them one after the other was overwhelming in the end.

I would do it all again.

I most likely will.



Boston being Anchor's old stomping grounds, it goes without saying that a trip to Los Angeles is long overdue. I suspended the idea of doing it in May because I felt going for an extended weekend wasn't enough for me. There are even more people to see than the ones I hooked up with (and didn't) in Boston, family, and those in between.

I don't regret leaving Los Angeles. It was time. Despite that, it is always good to return home for a while - a home in which I struggled, fought, sweated and bled. While I have forgiven all of those responsible (myself included), I don't risk forgetting the hard times, else I won't recognize the better ones when they come about.

W × L

When one of the last guys with camera I worked with told me that in editing the photos he'd done he'd taken the liberty of softening the areas where my stretch marks were I was almost horrified, but not for the reason(s) one might think.


It surprised even me: I was almost horrified because the immediate reaction to my stretch marks on his (and likely most folks') part was to hide them. I found that I didn't really want that, but did not end up protesting the action.


It may have to do with the fact that I have only recently acquired these, perhaps even grown used to them by now. 


I never dreamed I could gain weight, let alone have stretch marks.


Before I moved to Seattle I was ~three sizes smaller, unhealthy in fact, and not eating very well at all. Several years prior in high school I was quite honestly malnourished, anorexic. I hid myself in the baggiest clothes imaginable.






These days I have a wee bit of a tummy. It happened gradually, as my availability and quality of food improved in my coming up northwest.


Some days I'm not sure how to feel about that. I rummage through my clothing, frustrated, late for something, exhausted. Most of my clothes are made with tinier, flatter girls in mind, so parts of me give garments rounded shapes.


I can work it, though. I do. I watch so many others around me become positively radiant in the ways they carry themselves -- people I don't know, people I do. It gives me something to look forward to. It makes me smile.






With this, some other things must change, unfortunately. 


A good number of the people I'd like to shoot with have size requirements; a woman in Portland can't (or won't) shoot any females over size 6, and I don't think I'll ever be that again. I still continue to admire her work.


I have to usually make a point of asking photographers if they have limits to save us both the hassle of having to cancel appointments later.


I have realised that around the double digit dress size is usually when cute clothes become harder to find and more expensive, and when demand wanes.


I'm past the point of being broken up about it. Luckily I've encountered some who are willing to take me on, and even one who insisted he wanted to work with me as I am. It's for the chance to have more of those cases that keep me pressing on.






When things seem really awful and I discover that I've yet to shake the 'skinny is the only shape that is worthwhile and appealing' mindset, I remember precious moments of being silly with my friend Jamie. We grab our bellies, move them about, and have a good laugh.


The growth represents to me a graduation of sorts, from a lack of regard for myself to living a rich, more fulfilled life. I welcome it.


Beauty is encompassed in a number of diverse houses, and we should spend more time celebrating that instead of building a box round a few prim blocks.

out of the dark

To say 'it's not easy letting one person into your life' is quite the understatement. Truly. 


For many, it's impossible to let in more than one - a deal breaker, unspeakable, morally wrong, joked about. On the same token, I've read articles from seemingly militant polyamorous folks who feel that monogamy is 'stupid'. (Dan Savage, Monogamy vs Commitment)


It's a sensitive subject.


I'll count myself fortunate that the friends who've asked about my experiences with multiple partners (and are monogamous) have done so gently and respectfully. I try to answer every question as best as I can, and return that respect.


We humans are notoriously curious, after all; as long as there's no malice behind the curiosity, what's the harm in supplying the knowledge?


I cannot and will not in any way claim to be an expert on the matter, though. 


Whether you're monogamous or not, spending time with each lover is different. Each connection yields a multitude of feelings and lessons. Venturing into one relationship or more blindly is not recommended. (I can tell you that frankly, having unfortunately done so myself. Do yourself a favor - don't learn this the hard way, please! Study up. Ask questions.)






My last break-up was a rather nasty one. That can't be denied. Our modes of communication were not working well together and there was stress frequently, which began to affect me elsewhere. With that in mind, I took it upon myself to go slowly next time, at the pace I wanted to go, or one that was at least in sync with others in the relationship.


'Next time' came sooner than I expected. I met Shiny Girl briefly at a casual local women's poly and kink friendly event chatted me up online, which turned into meetings over meals, then watching feel-good movies snuggled up in private. Conversation laced with the occasional smile and nervous tripping over words ensued; generally a good time.


To be honest, I was all ready to distance the interaction at a friendship, but her efforts gave impetus to a deeper-than-surface bond. The more I talked to her, the more I wanted to know.


Shiny Girl's teaching me what it's like to be selfless without being entirely aware of it, which is just wonderful. She's also opening me up without pushing too hard, something I needed in another love interest. It has been nearly three years since my last serious girlfriend...


What's more is that my Anchor (whom I've been with for about 2 years now) gets on well with her, something that didn't have the chance to blossom with my ex. I feel a wave of relief come over me when I discuss Shiny Girl with him, and I don't have to remind him who she is. We've all met, spent time together, conversed online. I hope that we can do more of it soon.


No one is in a rush to achieve any ultimate goal. We can just go forward at a leisurely gait.


It's very early and I dare not press on this for fear of jinxing it, but I am very, very happy.






No, it's not easy. Hardly any of the best things are, but they're worth fighting for/working on if you think they are. It helps if you're not the only one in a party feeling that way.

know where your towel is. know when to throw it.

I've never been very good at hiding my feelings. They've developed a nasty habit of bleeding into the expressions on my face and into the words I say, as well as the behaviour I display. This has gone on ever since I can recall.


Sometimes I fool myself into thinking I'm a great pretender. It helps to get knocked down a peg or two by people that see otherwise.






It has been brought to my attention that when I get presented with bad news, I often shut down. I've become comfortable with the idea of going off alone for an undetermined amount of time to think about the steps that led to the bad news, and how to deal with it better should it happen again. I don't want to burden other people with my problems.


I am slowly coming to the realisation that I need to change the way I process. I need to understand that the people around me DO care, and that I should share what I'm feeling with them because they want to be there for me when I need them. So far friends of mine and loved ones alike have taken time out of their busy lives to offer advice and console me where necessary.


(Thank you. I really appreciate your efforts and you've helped immensely. You know who you are.)






The way I've been dealing with stress has been much the same. I failed to see the destruction my methods were doing. When I'm having it rough, it affects my everyday life, including my interaction with others.


My paramour has been asked by mutual acquaintances of ours, "Is Brandy okay?" or "Did I do something to upset Brandy?"




Now, this isn't very fair, is it? Actions I imagined to be harmless to others having the converse effect. To me that reads "CHANGE THIS. NOW." Urgent stamping and all.


Change doesn't come easy for me. What good or mandatory thing ever does? It's part of being an adult. Hopefully sorting this out will allow me to put some positive energy into the people I care about in turn, so that they know I can be there for them too. One day at a time.




Onward and forward we go.

rekindling old flames & the grateful train

I would call myself a hopeful romantic. It's easy for me to see the positives of a pairing possibility.


I walk into new ventures with plenty of smiles and my head held high. I listen, ask questions frequently, and am enthusiastic. 


I can say with no ego that my tenacity is astounding when I apply it; I like the chase and I'm good at seeing an end to it when I've decided I want to commit to something more.


The surges of energy are my favourite part. Goodness knows that my last long-term (long-distance) relationship had no shortage of 'em. The mind and body are more likely to go into overdrive after long periods of pleasure denial and short periods of desire fulfillment.






While the aforementioned's cheery and all that, the not-so-great aspects beg mentioning as well.


1. I have a habit of leaping before I look. I'm the sort that enjoys having her head in the clouds, but typically the result of that is learning the repercussions of such the hard way.


2. I often find myself doing things I don't want to do. Instead of attempting to strike up some sort of compromise that might include benefits for each person involved, I have a habit of letting others get their way because I believe I'll ruin everything if I don't. It's irrational, this fear, and I've already modified my behaviour to put this issue to rest (after lots of practice).


3. I overextend myself. The three all tie in, you see. New prospects are fairly exciting, and it's not uncommon to throw myself into the fray without considering that I may need some 'me' time. This may be the most common trait I share with others involved in similar romantic situations. It also may be the most difficult to rectify, as it comes into play elsewhere.






About 80% of this goes out the window if the romantic venture is a reconnection. The events leading up to the severing of ties previous is usually at the forefront of my mind. Paranoia. Second guessing.


It is likely that a rekindling will not see much success because of all of the things it has going against it, namely its history. Even if you get past that, there may be unexpected bumps in the road that are ill-handled. The damage can be irreparable. Fingers get pointed.


In times of frustration, anger or general pain, the first instinct fallacy (paraphrasing: 'your first instincts are your most correct') can easily come into play. For me, telling myself 'it's not my fault' is a coping mechanism to deal with the aftereffects of a break-up. Blaming others for the downfall of a relationship isn't necessarily the best idea. There needs to be some analysis, support from friends and/or family, and a period of mourning.






One behaviour change begets another. In changing Not-So-Great Aspect no. 2, I didn't realize that other changes would be affected. 


Mourning does not seem to be as important as it used to be; it expends tons of energy needed to do daily life tasks and enjoy people and activities. It is not altogether useless, especially if the history is long and intense, but there needs to be a cull at some point.




My experiences reconnecting with people on a romantic front has taught me a great deal, though I am no longer so keen on dating anyone from my past. 


The best I can do is try to keep some kind of platonic, warm tie alive with folks I've known very personally and intimately -- this is not always an available option, mind you. The best I can be is open about my shortcomings in the hopes that I can eventually sort them out. Sometimes only another person can reveal what these shortcomings are.






A close friend of mine recently said, "The day I stop learning, I die." I'm inclined to agree with her.