28 December 2009


True love. I don't really believe in it, nor do I want to. I'm not really made for love or commitment, I can't imagine ever being in a long-term relationship, a "best friend", a buddy for life. My emotions are just too fluid. Things change all the time. Still, I like to think I've been in love. I've had relationships, infatuations, fantasies that I'll never forget. Three times in my life I met someone who forever changed how I view love, myself, and feelings. Here's my story:

1. I was 15 when I had my first boyfriend. He was my first kiss, the first person other than myself to pleasure me, the first person I fantasized about, the first person to tell me "I love you", the first person I ever told "I love you" to, the first person I went on a date with, the first person to buy me flowers, my first Valentine, and many, many other firsts. We were together almost six months, making him my longest relationship. I was young, and I know that, looking back. Yet this boy forever changed my life. One's first intimacy is always life changing. As is the first time someone returns one's love. But he was also my first break-up, my first heartbreak, the first boy I ever cried over - and, oh, did I cry. It was then, at 15, that I first learned about love, and all it entails.

2. Two years ago, just a few weeks before I turned 17, I met the perfect guy. He was seriously the person I've always looked for, the boy I've always dreamed of. In every way, he was perfect. Attractive, intelligent, articulate, brilliant, wise. He was the kind of guy that blew girls off their feet the moment he met them, but what I felt was something more. We were meant to be together. For a year and a half I loved him, on-and-off. Except for a few brief make-out sessions, we never did get together. Still, I haven't been the same since. I found him, despite how unlikely it was, I found the perfect guy. Everything I had ever imagined came into my life, and I liked him for so long.

3. At 18, shortly after finally getting over number 2, I found someone else that forever changed my life. My desire for her was different than anything else I'd ever experienced. She was the cliche of perfect. She laughed at my jokes, spent time with me, made me feel amazing about myself. We were friends, we had fun together, we got along. It wasn't a desperate affection, either, and being away from her for months now hasn't caused me any heartbreak (though I miss her terribly). I have never been happier to meet a person who changed my life like I know she did. If I am ever to spend my entire life with someone, this is exactly the kind of relationship that I want.

I know, someday, another one will come along. But true love is few and far between. In the meantime, we just keep swimming.

17 December 2009

First Semester

Today, I finished my last final, and survived my first semester of college.

I had those nights that I feared, those evenings where I shut the door and cried, feeling like I'd never make friends, that I'd always be alone. Sometimes, I would sit alone in my room, my door open, inviting others in, hoping others would come in, but instead, only their voices entered my room, their distant conversations about drugs and love and the world, and I would shut the door and cry. Why can they make friends and not me, I wondered? At times I was desperate, hopeless, refreshing facebook, looking at who was online, hoping that someone - anyone - would talk to me. At times, I slipped back into depression, not sleeping or eating for days, wondering when I would ever find a friend.

But those nights didn't happen all that often. I was surprised by how few of those there were, compared to the times I spent with others, talking for hours on end in the dining halls or on the grass or at Starbucks. I exchanged secrets with dear friends while spooning on the floor and intoxicated. I stayed up late with friends by my side. I began getting texts, phone calls, facebook messages, connexion testimonials. We had sleepovers, study sessions, and a lot of stripping. I began getting hugs and kisses, I began flirting and being flirted with, and my heart began to soar. This is college, I realized, and I am surviving - really, really surviving.

There are a few people/places/things/ideas I would like to thank for making this an amazing semester:

1. God. I prayed a lot this semester. I prayed in bed, on the floor, and in trees. (On another note, I've befriended many trees, Boulder has many great trees for climbing.) God helped me through by helping me understand what was amazing about my life, and how much hope I really had. Without unconditional faith, I couldn't have done it. Having completely given myself to Hir, I stayed on the right path, and found my way here.

2. The LGBTQA community. I quickly found my place within the LGBTQA community. I met so many amazing people through GSA, QI, Gather, and the trip to Washington DC for the National Equality March. Even when I met people outside queer clubs, many still ended up coming to the RC eventually. Even before I was queer, I always felt in place in the LGBTQA community, and college is no exception.

3. Colorado. Even when I thought that I could never belong at CU, that Boulder just wasn't my place, I looked at the flatirons, and everything seemed a little better. I love Colorado, and I couldn't imagine living anywhere but here, at foot of the most beautiful mountains, in such an amazing, beautiful town.

4. Education. My classes made everything worth while. I learned more this semester than ever before in my life, and my entire worldview has changed. Every single lecture I attended, every single article I read, every single paper I wrote absolutely blew my mind. Without being able to look forward to class, I would have never made it.

I finished my first semester of college. I am a sophomore standing. I turn 19 in five days. I'm growing up, and I'm terrified, but I'm glad there are things out there to help me through.

16 December 2009


"Shhh. Listen closely.
Do you hear that sound?
Try again.
It might sound like the wind or a bird or maybe it sounds like nothing at all, but it's the loudest sound you'll ever hear.
It's our God screaming for help.
Asking you to notice him, to listen to him.
But you are too busy. You're too busy doing your make-up or saving the world. Busy insulting others or proving that you're the best.
Forget it.
Maybe, if, for just a moment, you forgot that you exist, you'd hear him."
-- from my journal, 01.19.08

Do you pray? I suggest you try it. Praying is powerful. God answers all my questions. I curl up on the floor and surrender everything to Hir, give my entire life to Hir, fall completely into Hir arms. Ze cradles me, holds me, and whispers into my ear. I know just what God is saying, they're things I knew already, things that are so obvious, but I've ignored them so much. Thank you, I tell Hir, thank you, you have all the answers.

And, as I slowly emerge from my prayer, God is still here, still holding me, still by my side. I see Hir everywhere, I feel Hir everywhere. And I know the way. Pray. Try it, just once. Hear what Ze has to say. You just might be surprised.

11 December 2009


When I was in 9th grade, in English, I read Catcher in the Rye (one of my favorite books of all time). Our assignment was to psychologically diagnose Holden Caulfield. It was a very interesting assignment, and I learned a lot about psychology and coming of age. I would look up conditions on the internet, write down the ones I thought fit, and looked them up in my mom's plentiful medical texts. While doing this assignment, I discovered something I found especially interesting. The chapter on Asperger's syndrome was highlighted, with notes written in the margin. I didn't take me long to realize that the notes were about me. In fact, the highlighted regions described me perfectly, especially as a child.

I learned to speak, read, and write early and quickly, typical of Asperger's syndrome. I'd find little obsessions, passions, and I could amuse myself for hours reading and studying these things; then, I would talk, non-stop, about the things I found interesting, unable to understand that no one else really cared - another typical trait in children with Asperger's syndrom. I was intelligent, independent, quiet, and an overall good kid. But, at times, I would have intense temper tantrums, troubled by change in routine, a new situation, or anything that I didn't understand. Most notably, I struggled with social interaction and non-verbal communication.

It's not that I was a lonely child, but I was very much alone. I'd choose a book over a friend any day. In elementary school, I'd eat alone and spend recess alone, swinging on the swings or playing with my stuffed animals. I had a few friends, but we were never close, and I never really understood them. My teachers were worried. They'd call up my mom, tell her that I don't have any friends. At one point, my elementary school psychologist put me in a room with some girls my age. I played with them for a little while, and then went off to play on my own. She asked me why I wasn't playing with them, and I said that I simply didn't care, I liked to play on my own. My mom never got me diagnosed; she feared that it would interfere with my adult life. It wasn't until highschool that I first made friends who I would spend quality time with, who I hung out with outside of school.

Most of this I learned from my mom, when I asked her about the book. It wasn't really a shock, more like an answer. I quickly became comfortable with the idea, and I felt that the disease explained my personality, childhood, and entire life. Of course, by that time, I had changed a lot since I was a child. My mom explained that she thought I mostly grew out of the disease - that, rarely, children even grow out of autism, and that growing out of Asperger's wasn't particularly shocking.

Armed with the new understanding of who I was, I set out on the social journey known as highschool. Of course, I hadn't changed entirely. I became sensitive to change and to the unknown, and prone to long periods of Adjustment Depression; I still had temper tantrums, as if I was a baby, overwhelmed by things I didn't understand. I remained obsessive, reading about things or fixating on ideas, and would go on rants about them, unable to tell that others weren't interested. I struggled with non-verbal communication, and my mom would often have to point out what was going on, when I simply couldn't know. Mostly, I struggled with social interaction. A lot of it, I blamed on what remained of the disease: difficulty for non-verbal communication, the constant need for verbal feedback to know that people cared about me or the things I was saying. A lot of it, though, I blamed on what the disease did to my childhood. You see, it's when we're young that we learn about people, that we learn what it means to make friends and to love and to care. It's when we're young that we're socialized by our peers, that we become who we'll always be. I grew into myself intellectually, physically, mentally, emotionally as a child. But I never grew into the world socially, and I never learned all those things that now seem like common-sense. Yes, I don't have common sense.

I'd go through stages in highschool, first feeling proud of the independence and non-conformity and maturity I had achieved. Then, I was overcome by the challenge of learning how to make and stay friends. After a while, as I succeeded in some respects but not in others, I grew sad, upset that I couldn't understand others, certain that I would always be lonely.

Highschool was easier than college is. In that social bubble, I could act a role, any role I wanted, and people would accept me as such. College is more difficult. Outside the bubble, people are truly themselves. They're older, more mature, and I simply don't feel like I can keep up. Friendships are closer, more intimate, but based less on day-to-day interaction and superfuntime and more on overcoming life's plentiful challenges and the occasional adult relationship.

And I feel lonely. And I feel scared. And I feel young. And I feel incapable of knowing what's going on, incapable of being close to others. I'm afraid I'll never have friends, though I try. And, if I can't make friends, how can I ever care for someone romantically? I am craving a deeper connection, that I just can't seem to find.

09 December 2009

Cigar Smoke

"It rolls, it turns, it flows. Inside my mouth, little bits slipping into my lungs. My body relaxes. They call it a buzz, but that's such a sad word. A buzz is more like a trip than a high. You forget who you are, you release all your pain, and it flows out of your mouth, hidden deep inside the soft smoke. It's like a bed, or maybe a bit of Heaven. When you inhale Heaven, it goes straight into your soul. Perfection, pure spirit. I wish it never ended. I wish I could taste you forever, but it is time. Listen to it sing before the melody fades away. Goodbye, Heaven."
-- from my journal 01/19/08

In this weather, all I want to do is warm up with a cigar.

05 December 2009


Omegle.com is a website where you can talk to strangers. I really enjoyed this conversation.

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hi
You: hi.
Stranger: whats up
You: Not too much, enjoying abstinence, you?
Stranger: same
Stranger: :)
Stranger: woo hoo
You: I love to dance.
Stranger: i love to not have sex
You: I enjoy that, as well.
You: Let's not have sex together!
Stranger: yeah
Stranger: lets not fuck eachother until we cant stand
Stranger: and stimulate eachother beyond measurable bounds
You: Let's gasp as we don't touch each other,
You: and moan without a climax.
Stranger: breath heavily down each others necks as we do nothing but just that
You: Roll around between the sheets fully clothed.
Stranger: buy condoms for no reason
You: And blow them up into balloons!
Stranger: yeah!
Stranger: oh god im so turned off right now
You: Yes, I've never been dryer.
Stranger: im as limp as a soggy news paper
You: Let's not have sex on tape.
Stranger: lets not have sex while in the shower
You: Let's not have sex in the hot tub.
Stranger: ok.'
You: I really love not having sex on the bathroom floor, though.
Stranger: i think sex is amazing.
You: I actually enjoy it, too.
Stranger: i love sex in the shower and the bed and the floor and up against a wall
You: I love sex in the car and in public and with multiple people.
You: Well, thanks for a wonderful conversation, stranger, but I gotta go eat dinner.
You: Bye!
Stranger: bye bye
You have disconnected.

30 November 2009

Mary Jane

Remember when we were inseparable? I'd kiss you the moment I rolled out of bed, and all day you were by my side. Mary, those were the days. The world was brighter with you by my side. The hours were slower. You helped me through my hardest days, and celebrated my greatest victories. With you, I became a better person, a happier person. And I was in love! It was true, I know it was. I've never loved anyone like I loved you. You meant everything to me, and I couldn't imagine living away from you even for a day.

Things might have changed, but I still think of you often. I remember our days together, those precious hours, and the way I once felt. You changed me forever, but things will never be the same. Sometimes, we run into each other and make love, it's just like it used to be. Passionate, hot love, the type of romance where I emerge a different person than the one I was when I came in. Maybe, I wonder, as we hold each other close, maybe we could do this again. Maybe we can still be together. But most times, Mary, it just isn't the same. I force you onto me, but you slip away between my fingers, leave me feeling empty. Though we are together, something is missing. What happened? Why can't I feel like I once did?

Things change. The world keeps turning, the grass keeps growing. I'll always love you, Mary. I'll never forget our days together. I'll never forget the person I was when you were by my side, and the person I became as a result. And, if we never love again like we used to, it was worth it all. Mary Jane, forever in my heart.

22 November 2009

15 Saddest Songs

I wrote this about a year ago, and I really like it.
Please leave any ideas about other sad songs.

15 Saddest Songs
because I enjoy spending many days depressing the shit out of myself.

15. Stop the Car!!! by Fire Flies
You know that feeling when you're so desperate that you feel like you're drowning in quicksand and only one person in the entire world can pull you out? This song beautifully captures this feeling with it's hopeless tune, metaphoric lyrics, and teary vocals.
I'm just a space man
Lost in the darkness
And the air's
Getting thin.

14. She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5
Despite the melancholy optimism in this love song, the melody, as well as the lyrics, always makes me tear up.
I don't mind spending every day
Out in your corner on the pouring rain.
Look for the girl with the broken smile,
Ask her if she wants to stay a while.

13. Listen to Your Heart by D.H.T.
This song touches the heart of anyone who's ever been in love and watched their feeling fade away.  A love song told in memories, it teaches the sad lesson that, no matter how hard it may be, you have to "listen to your heart".  Edmee's Unplugged Vocal Edit is the slowest and saddest remix of this song.
I know there's something in the wake of your smile.
I get a notion from the look in your eyes.
You've built a love, but that love falls apart.
That little bit of heaven turns to dark.

12. It Ends Tonight by The All American Rejects
Sometimes, things just have to come to an end.  When such a time comes, I always cry to the beat of the beautiful keyboards in this song.
And all the wants,
And all the needs,
Oh I don't want to need at all.

11. I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) by Fall Out Boy
I know that you, dear reader, hate FOB, but give this song a chance. Despite its deceiving title, this is an amazing break-up song that honestly portrays the hopeless desperation that trails the end of any relationship.
And the poets are just kids who didn't make it
And never had it at all
And the record won't stop skipping
And the lies just won't stop slipping

10. Love Makes the World Go Round by Ashlee Simpson
Before you give me shit for putting Ashlee Simpson on this list, listen to the first verse and the chorus.  Whenever my heart breaks, this song always makes sense, more than anything else.
Here, here I am again.
And I'm staring at these same four walls,
Alone again.
And now all the colors blend.

9. In the Deep by Bird York
This is the perfect song for when you realize something horrible.  It's like a sad euphoria.  The vocals are amazing, as are the lethargic lyrics. This song is featured in the sad and amazing movie Crash.
Thought you had all the answers
To rest your heart upon,
But something happens,
Don't see it coming,
You can't stop yourself.

8. The Chill of October by Client
The deep, dark orchestral part makes this the best song to listen to when you "cry the night away", especially if it's pouring outside your window.
Cry the night away,
Cry the night away,
Boy, I think it's over.

7. No Surprises by Radiohead
It sounds like a lullaby, but this is one sleep you won't wake up from.  An amazing, peaceful piece that honestly discusses a taboo subjects.  It is also the first of two songs on this list to mention suicide by carbon monoxide.  Note: Which other Radiohead songs would you recommend? They're really good when you listen to the lyrics, but the vocals make it difficult for that to come naturally.
A heart that's full up like a landfill,
a job that slowly kills you,
bruises that won't heal.

6. Stand in the Rain by Superchick
Another rainy day song, the lyrics build you up and make you strong, yet, 2:12 into the song, you can't help but break down as the vocalist strikes a high pitched minor chord.
You stand through the pain
You won't drown
And one day, what’s lost can be found
You stand in the rain

5. Slow Motion by Third Eye Blind
A beautiful song with horrific imagery.  Once you're done crying, this song will have you thinking for days afterwards. Note: I read that the lead singer of this band lived in Palo Alto and went to Gunn.
Two loads of coke I cut with Dran-o.
And her nose starts to bleed
A most beautiful ruby red.

4. How to Save a Life by The Fray
Anyone who's ever lost a friend will tear up at the hopelessness of this song.  When it's too late, this song captures all the guilt, pain, and what-ifs that fill your mind.
Where did I go wrong?
I lost a friend.
Somewhere alone in the bitterness.
But I'd've stayed up with you all night.
Had I known how to save a life.

3. Photograph by Nickelback
Everyone can relate to this song about memories that passed.  Sometime in everyone's life, we have to say "goodbye" to the past.
Look at this photograph
Every time I do it makes me laugh:
How did our eyes get so red,
And what the hell is on Joey's head.

2. Any Other World by Mika
While generally Mika's songs tend to be happy, this exception bites.  It speaks the truth about the horrors of the world we live in.  It's true, sometime, we have to give up our dreams, hopes, and integrity, and we have to become one of the crowd.
Take a bow, play the part
Of a lonely, lonely world.
Say goodbye
to the world you thought you lived in.

1. War All the Time by Thursday
This song, like so many of Thursday's pieces, simply makes you want to die on the spot.  It speaks of the misery that we all suffer.  By the end of this song, you know that life truly sucks.  Note: All of Thursday’s songs are sad. Could you suggest any?
So we parked these cars
In parent's garage
Listened to the lullaby of carbon monoxide.
War all of the time
In the shadow of the New York skyline
We grew up too fast
Falling apart,
Like the ashes of American flags.

11 November 2009

Feeling a little queer.

I'd like to talk about myself at the moment.

I'm feeling a little queer today.  Here's a picture I took, and I am really quiet proud of me.  First, my hat.  Back when I had long hair, I would put all my hair in this hat when I wore it.  Granted, I didn't wear it very often, but when I did, I would stand in front of the mirror, and I'd think that, with most of my hair gone, I look quiet a bit like a boy.  It was good to know that there really is very little difference between men and women.  As a result, I always wore the hat on days when I was feeling especially masculine, and I still do.

The tie.  Sure, it's a clip on, but I still feel really cool.  Also, it's my best friend CoCo's tie.  She gave it to me when I was taking her to the Yule ball, so that I could be "the man". Ironic, right, that I borrowed my tie from my woman? I still have to give it back.  Someday, I will get myself a tie.  I've always been intrigued by beautiful ties that are practically works of art, and I've always thought that it seems very fun to be an adult man in the business world, dressing up an otherwise plain suit with an attractive, stylish, somewhat colorful, creative tie.

The pin. The QI is going to do Day Without Gender, in which we will turn the bathrooms in the UMC gender neutral for a day.  I am on the committee planning it, and we just made these pins today.  The symbol on my pin (right, sorry it's crooked, but who likes things straight, anyways?) is the gender neutral bathroom sign.  I am a huge proponent of gender neutral bathrooms, and they are a big step towards a world beyond the gender binary.  They simply make life easier for us all.

We all have these queer days once in a while.  I've just been having them a lot lately.

More dimensions, please!

We view the world as a binary.  Either you're A or not-A.  Either you're man or woman, white of a person of color, heterosexual or queer, liberal or conservative, good-looking or ugly, wrong or right.  What a stupid view of the world, a divisive, unfriendly view.  There are so many dimensions to everything.

I will use politics as my first example.  There's more to political views than being liberal or conservative.  It's a spectrum: you could me more or less liberal and conservative than others you know, you could be moderate, or just a little more liberal than conservative.  There's the first dimension, a one-dimensional spectrum that doesn't require you to be one or the other.  Yet that's not enough. On some issues, you may agree with the conservatives, while on others, you may think the liberals are right.  In politics, we are faced with social and economic issues, both of which are very different.  Thus, we have the two-dimensional view of politics, shown above right.  Yet even that's not enough.  About the same time I began exploring political views, I started playing a game called NationStates.  This game brought me an entirely new view of politics, a three dimensional perspective, shown to the left.  This view contains three spectrums: economic, political, and personal freedoms.  Even three dimensions isn't enough.  A true political spectrum would contain every issue, perhaps several possible spectrums for certain issues.  Yet three dimensions is easy for a human mind to understand, and is a great way to view politics.

How about sexuality and gender? The sexuality spectrum, I'm quiet certain, would contain a potential partner's gender, sexuality (I, for example, am very attracted to queer people of any gender), masculinity vs femininity, even a possible fourth dimension of sex.  The gender spectrum could contain gender, masculinity vs. femininity (You could be a feminine man or a masculine woman), perhaps physical sex.  What other factors would lie on these two spectrums? Where else in life do we need a multi-dimensional perspective?

Overall, I'm tired of binaries, and one-dimensional spectrums aren't enough for me, either. Let's change the world.

01 November 2009

Ten Lessons from the Edge

Lesson 1: The power of intense eroticism lies within.

Lesson 2: The devil is the details. Aim for better, more finely tuned intricate, specific phenomenology.

Lesson 3: Don not engage in "sex" (whatever that means) until yoru level of arousal is through the roof. Otherwise, you invite and incur the risk of developing sexual dysfunctions, pain or desire disorders.

Lesson 4: Relationship factors requires continuing attention. The levels of trust, communication, and negotiation skills required for extraordinary, erotic intimacy far exceed those common in ordinary sexual relations.

Lesson 5: Sex has as many purposes as there are people having sex. "Sex" is about "nonsexual" purposes, also.

Lesson 6: Sex can accomplish more than tension release and orgasm. It can bring about feelings of aliveness, expansion, self-knowledge, joy, a sense of peace, harmony, ecstasy, wholeness and of "coming home."

Lesson 7: Sex can be profoundly transformative. It can be therapeutic, healing and/or transcending not only sexual wounds but various kinds of psychological injuries.

Lesson 8: Aim high. Learn from those who refuse to settle for merely incredibly pleasureful and thoroughly satisfying sex.

Lesson 9: Keep going deeper, higher, and further. The eroticism is in the continuing exploration, uncovering and discovery of possibilities nad potentials (especially key in long-term relationships).

Lesson 10: Being on the edge is scary but then so are the alternatives. Erotic adventures are genuinely risky but then the risks of erotic stagnation are no less dangerous.

From an article by Kleinplatz, Peggy J, PhD titled "Learning from Estraordinary Lovers: Lessons from the Edge". One of the most interesting, informative readings I ever laid eyes on. I suggest everyone reads it!

November, I Am Thankful

At 6:30 in the morning, the sun lays its rays on the flatirons, and they glow. Light skims the tops of stone buildings, and birds chirp, signaling that morning has arrived.

Things are quieter here, closer to the cold ground, still untouched by direct sunlight. The naked, crouching trees are asleep, and the grass, covered with their shriveled leaves and leftover mounds of frozen snow, is silent.

That's when I realize that this is where I live. Where I party and study. Where I love, I think, I dream. This is the place where, each morning, I take my first hopeful breath, and where each night I fall asleep with a prayer. I'm living a dream.

It occurs to me that the next holiday is Thanksgiving.

Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you God and thank you Mom. Thank you hard work and thank you fate. Thank you life for this chance to live - to really live - like everyone should. Thank you for food and beer; for friends and kisses. Thank you for crunchy leaves and foggy breath, for sunlight and rain. Thank you for the rainbow of colors, the scale of notes, the spectrum of scents. Thank you for wisdom and play, for knowledge, poetry, and art. Thank you for hope, for without it, we live in chains. Thank you for love, that gets us through the day. Thank you for dreams and fantasies, that remind us to never give up. Thank you for today.

20 October 2009

Where's the love?

The older I get, the more I learn, the more vivid my adolescent delusions get.
It seems backwards, doesn't it?
Yet, everything I read, everything I learn, tells me the same thing:
1) Corporations and media rule our mind! They determine how we view the world, they control how we organize what we see. We're brainwashed by society.
2) Corporations and the media are controlled by wealthy heterosexual white males. Unless we conform to their expectations, we'll be happy in the context of our world. Yet, if we conform to what their ways, not only are we selling ourselves out, but we'll still be unhappy if our ascribed characteristics don't conform (heterosexual, white, male, attractive, physically able, etc.).
3) Yet the world is changing, and we are the change! Stay positive, keep looking forward, we'll change the world.

Maybe I'm still young,
but these beliefs these delusions - show no sign of changing.

Where's the Love? by the Black Eyed Peas:

What's wrong with the world, mama
People livin' like they ain't got no mamas
I think the whole world addicted to the drama
Only attracted to things that'll bring you trauma
Overseas, yeah, we try to stop terrorism
But we still got terrorists here livin'
In the USA, the big CIA
The Bloods and the Crips and the KKK
But if you only have love for your own race
Then you only leave space to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate, yeah
Madness is what you demonstrate
And that's exactly how anger works and operates
Man, you gotta have love just to set it straight
Take control of your mind and meditate
Let your soul gravitate to the love, y'all, y'all

People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek

Father, Father, Father help us
Send some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love (love)

Where is the love (the love)
Where is the love (the love)
Where is the love
The love, the love

It just ain't the same, always unchanged
New days are strange, is the world insane
If love and peace is so strong
Why are there pieces of love that don't belong
Nations droppin' bombs
Chemical gasses fillin' lungs of little ones
With ongoin' sufferin' as the youth die young
So ask yourself is the lovin' really gone
So I could ask myself really what is goin' wrong
In this world that we livin' in people keep on givin'
Makin' wrong decisions, only visions of them dividends
Not respectin' each other, deny thy brother
A war is goin' on but the reason's undercover
The truth is kept secret (shh, shh), it's swept under the rug
If you never know truth then you never know love
Where's the love, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the truth, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the love, y'all

People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek


I feel the weight of the world on my shoulder
As I'm gettin' older, y'all, people gets colder
Most of us only care about money makin'
Selfishness got us followin' the wrong direction
Wrong information always shown by the media
Negative images is the main criteria
Infecting the young minds faster than bacteria
Kids wanna act like what they see in the cinema

Yo', whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness in equality
Instead in spreading love, we spreading animosity
Lack of understanding, leading lives away from unity
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' under
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' down
There's no wonder why sometimes I'm feelin' under
Gotta keep my faith alive 'til love is found


Send "Where Is The Love? (Feat. Justin Timberlake)" Ringtone to your Cell

19 October 2009

Within our lifetime, and sooner than you could ever imagine...

Is it possible that we're on a brink of such a major change? That, within our lifetime, and sooner than you could ever imagine, cigarettes will be made illegal, and marijuana will be legalized?

Tobacco is the deadliest drug out there: "more than 400,000 Americans now die of tobacco-related illness per year, making it the leading cause of preventeable death in the US. More than 8 million Americans suffer from at least one serious illeness caused by smoking" (1).
However, unlike many much less deadly drugs, this one is legal!
Just this last month, FDA has received authority over tobacco, a huge change in tobacco regulation.
The first thing the FDA did was ban flavored cigarettes from the market (2).
Now that the FDA has control over such a deadly substance, will they dare keep it on the market for much longer?

Cities and states have begun legalizing medical and recreational marijuana.
Thirteen states (Alaska, California, Colorado, Hawaii, Maine, Maryland, Michigan, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Rhode Island, Vermont, and Washington) have legalized medial marijuana (3).
Cities, such as Denver, have legalized possession of small amounts of marijuana (4)
In 2003, Seattle pioneered a "lowest priority" initiative, which makes possession of small amounts of marijuana the lowest priority of the police. Today, similar initiatives are found in Oakland, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz, and Santa Monica, California; as well as Columbia, Missouri; Eureka Springs, Arkansas; ...Missoula, Montana"; Hailey, Idaho; as well as my personal favorites, Boulder and Denver, Colorado ( 5, 6, 7).
Tobacco companies have caught on to the trend and have designated land, time, money, and have even created brand names and marketing campaigns for marijuana products (8).

Without a backup plan, making cigarettes illegal would create a huge dent in the economy. Powerful, wealthy corporations would instantly collapse. The FDA would never dare do that.
However, marijuana could be that backup plan. Tobacco companies would remain strong if marijuana was made legal. They'd be the first ones on the scene, and they are ready to take advantage of marijuana's inevitable legalization.

But what would that change entail?
Which would happen first, would tobacco be made illegal or would marijuana be legalized, or would that happen instantaneously?

Would marijuana sales be enough to keep tobacco companies on top? While the legalization of marijuana would eventually mean a collapse of smaller drug dealers, initially, those drug dealers might actually thrive, especially those that get their pot from sources within the country instead of smuggling them internationally. Pot smokers who never grew before might give it a try. Unlike tobacco, marijuana can be grown in someone's home or in someone's backyard. Additionally, marijuana would become big in the food industry, and perhaps even more popular in that form than as a smoked substance. Though the current structure of marijuana sales will definitely change, would it ever be handed over entirely to large corporations?

Is society ready for such a change? Anti-drug crusaders remain strong, and, despite the popularity of marijuana reform, many Americans remain opposed to its legalization and use, especially for recreational purposes.

Additionally, marijuana is a much different drug from tobacco. Even though cigarette use has recently dropped significantly, it still remains a big part of some aspects of American culture. What will happen to groups of co-workers from all walks of life smoking outside their place of work? How about other types of tobacco use, such as cigars and cigar bars and sheesha and hookah bars? It would be used at different times, in different places, by different people. It will be used more like alcohol than like tobacco, though not exactly like either.

What would the legal age for marijuana consumption, possession, and purchase be? Most places that've legalized marijuana or with lowest priority laws define adult consumption as 21, and that's likely to be the minimum age if marijuana is legalized. Tobacco is the drug that become legal when you turn 18, so, if tobacco is made illegal, no new substance will be permitted until you turn 21. If marijuana is legalized, it's likely to be less available to underage users, similar to how alcohol is difficult to come by in highschool. However, unlike alcohol, marijuana can be grown at home, and can even spread like a weed, so it would probably be more available underage than alcohol is now. How would teenagers react to such a change? Would consumption of more dangerous, illegal drugs go up because those drugs will be easier to find?

Where would we be allowed to smoke pot? Would there be designated pot smoking areas? How about the laws that now concern cigarette smoking in public places? Would pot bars open up, and what would it's culture be like?

Would legalizing marijuana open up the way for legalizing other drugs?

We just might find out within our lifetime, and sooner than we could ever imagine.

(1) FDA authority over tobacco: http://www.tobaccofreekids.org/reports/fda/
(2) Ban on flavored cigarettes: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/23/health/policy/23fda.html
(3) States that legalized medical marijuana: http://norml.org/index.cfm?Group_ID=3391
(4) Denver legalized marijuana: http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2005-11-03-pot_x.htm
Lowest priority laws (5) in Maine with a list of cities where it's in effect: http://stopthedrugwar.org/chronicle/463/maine_marijuana_lowest_law_enforcement_priority_initiatives (6) in Denver with more cities listed: http://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/11/07/denver-voters-set-lowest-priority-for-cops-pot/?scp=1-b&sq=denver+and+marijuana&st=nyt (7) in Boulder: http://www.dailycamera.com/boulder-county-news/ci_13450163
(8) Tobacco companies and marijuana: http://www.drugwatch.org/Tobacco_Marijuana_Media.htm (scroll down to "The Tobacco-Marijuana Link")

18 October 2009


Music can capture our hearts in a way nothing else can. Somewhere out there in the world, there's a perfect song for every mood, a perfect tune for any thought, a perfect melody for every tear and smile. Mixtapes capture those perfect songs and put them together. They capture the vast spectrum of emotion that we feel in any given situation; they collect moments and memories; they gather bits and pieces of a single powerful feeling. They're always there for you, there for when you need it.

Someday, one of these playlists will turn into a mixtape
for someone I love.

17 October 2009

San Francisco

I miss the San Francisco shoreline. I miss the waters crashing against the rocks, the heavy smell of ocean air, the cold breezes chilling me to the bones. I miss standing by the shore, listening to the soothing sound, feeling safe and free. I miss the love that's always in the air. I miss the dreams that live among the hills, dreams of the past and the future, dreams that are coming true now in the greatest city of them all. I miss Chinatown, Haight-Ashbury, and Golden Gate Park. I miss the city that touched me once, the sea that leaned close and whispered sweetly in my ear. "You don't know me well," it said, "but you're welcome back anytime. I haven't known you long," it added, "but you'll always be mine."

Someday, I will return to the bay.

National Equality March

Last weekend, I went to Washington DC to participate in the National Equality March (Evidence Pic). It was such an amazing trip and a great opportunity.

Going to DC over the weekend wasn't easy. The trip was 30 hours one way. We left Friday afternoon after we decorated our vans. On Sunday at about 2AM we arrived at our hotel. We woke up early Sunday morning, ate breakfast, took the metro to DC, and marched. That afternoon, we left for Colorado. At about 2AM Tuesday morning, we finally arrived. It was a long and tiring trip, but it was definitely worth it.

The march itself was so amazing! It felt so good to be in such an amazing place surrounded by so many amazing people fighting for something that's so important! The official count was 200,000 to 250,000, though the media keeps saying "tens of thousands". The signs, chants, and people impressed me and blew my mind. The speakers were beautiful and touching. Just being in the amazing city of Washington DC was a great experience. I have so much hope for this country. Soon, it will be our chance to shine. The rights we deserve will be ours. There is hope.

08 October 2009

You're gay ...

Some girls in my hall wrote "You're gay if you don't listen to Coldplay" on their door. Naturally, this pissed me off, and I intended to erase just the word "gay" whenever I had the chance. It's the next day, and someone already did just that. It's nice to know that people care :)

06 October 2009


I've been thinking about her a lot lately. In between breaths she'll suddenly surprise me, I'll hear her sweet, sweet voice deep inside my mind and I'll tear up a little. I miss her. It's been too long, and it will be longer still. I wonder what life would be like if I had never met her. I can't imagine it being much different than it is now, only that my heart would be hung up on a different kind of loneliness, the kind of loneliness that happens when all desire has faded away and there's no one to dream of. I'm waiting for a kind distraction, but that could take months. It could be years before I kiss someone I like. I'm in no hurry. Until then, she is first on my mind. Until then, I love her. I will always miss her.

AIDS Quilt.

Today was an amazing day. I spent most of the day outside, handing out condoms and lube by the AIDS Quilt display in Norlin Quad. The Quilt is so touching! We have 25 12x12 blocks on campus this week. Each block contains 8 6x3 panels representing an AIDS victim. That's the size of a typical grave. Friends and family of AIDS victims make these beautiful panels to represent the lives of their loved ones. It's very touching and beautiful. Check out their website to find out more. Just Google AIDS Quilt.

05 October 2009

Oh, life.

I'm on top of the world right now, but coming down fast. The free fall: that's the best part. But, you know, until you reach the bottom, you never know if it was worth it. I do believe, in fact, that this ride is much like those free-fall water slides. I've been on many, and my favorite, by far, is the one in Blizzard Beach, Disney World, Florida (right). I was there seventh or eighth grade, I believe. You get on that slide, and when you look down it's terrifying, and you think you'll never be able to do it, your instinct tells you "don't do it, you will die". But you go for it anyways. Hedonistic Calculus. It's worth it. It'll be fun. And there you go, zipping down, your breathing stops, adrenaline rushes through your blood. And, at the bottom, you somehow smoothly slow down, and you're glad you did it.

Good things that happened today:
- There's a speaker in my sociology class on Wednesday. Why is that good news? Well, that means our test is delayed one day. It'll be on Wednesday. You know what that means? I'm ditching school on Monday. I am going to the National Equality March in Washington DC this weekend. WOW!
- Linguistics was canceled. Only I didn't know. I went anyways, and it turned out my teacher decided to do optional office hours instead. We have to talk to him about our term paper before midterms, so the fact that I was already there prompted me to stay and to do it. Well, I sat around for an hour, never getting to my turn, but I finished reading Slaughterhouse Five and thought about my paper. Lucky for me, he had office hours for an hour after that, too, so I talked to him then. I'm doing my paper on politically correct speech and euphemisms in the news media. I will focus on the terms "African American" vs the term "black" and the words describing intersex individuals and disorders throughout the years. My midterm is on Wednesday.
- Last week I turned in my first college paper. It was for philosophy and about the genetic fallacy. I wrote it all the day before. Outlined it in the morning, wrote it up before bed. Four pages double spaced doesn't even count as a paper. Well, my TA e-mailed me, asking me if she can show my paper in class because it's the best she graded yet. I aced my first college paper! My midterm for that class is Tuesday.
- I studied a lot today. Studying can actually be kind of fun. I have a lot coming up, but I think I can handle it.

Meeting with my adviser tomorrow.
AIDS Quilt tomorrow.
Gender midterm Friday.
National Equality March Friday through Monday.
Philosophy midterm Tuesday.
Sociology test Wednesday.
Linguistics midterm Wednesday.

29 September 2009

The next morning, I woke up, and I was a dude.

Quiet an odd dream I had last night ...

I was with my family in a quiet peculiar institution. It was a sort of amphitheater, only, instead of seats, every party had a personal natural hot tub from which to watch the performance. The whole place was entirely nude, too. About halfway through the performance, someone on stage announced that there was a celebrity in the audience. He said the guy's name, and everybody turned to him and applauded him. I asked my stepdad who this guy is, but my stepdad said something along the lines of, "I'd tell you, but you're not ready to know/too young to know/you'll understand it better later." Well, this really pissed me off: my stepdad has a tendency to think I'm younger than I really am. I yelled at him and asked him to tell me more but he refused, and I got really angry and frustrated. At the end of the concert, I went up to the guy and asked him what he did. He told me about some philanthropic stuff he was into, and I didn't know the details of what that was, but it seemed nice and I told him so. I truly didn't understand why my stepdad wouldn't tell me what he did, but I kinda got the idea that I would comprehend his answer better if I knew what exactly he was talking about. Nonetheless, I felt much less frustrated and more complete now, so I went to bed in our little hot-tub side cabin.

The next morning, I woke up, and I was a dude. I was very confused and went out looking for answers before my family woke up. I saw some people I met last night, and I told them of my dilemma. Of course, we were all naked, which made the whole thing much more ... open. Well, they totally recognized me, despite the fact that I was suddenly a dude, and they believed me and agreed to help me figure things out. We tracked down all this information on me: my driver's license, birth certificate. Turns out I had a whole life laid out for me. No specific details, but the simple stuff were there: I had a name, a high school diploma, I was enrolled in college and had a dorm, and I had a birth certificate saying that my parents were still my parents. There it got a little weird; I had a twin sister: myself; I was my own twin brother.

Well, I went to college so I could find my sister (my self) in her dorm. Perhaps, I thought, she'd (I'd) somehow have a memory of me. Well, she (I) didn't. She (I) thought I was a weird freak. Then, I told her (myself) all her (my own) deep dark secrets that she (I) never told anyone. I think then she (I) believed me, only she (I) was very confused and needed some time to get used to the idea.

Having figured most everything out, I decided it was time to relax. First, I went and took a piss in the urinal just for fun. It was fun. Then, I decided I needed to masturbate. At that point, I got a little confused. I had never considered what I'd do with my cum once I came. I decided to do it in the bathroom and come in the toilet, but the whole bathroom-stall thing was not arousing, and I couldn't get hard. I tried to figure something else out, but I was clueless. I didn't want to make a mess! About then, I woke up, having failed at enjoying my penis.

26 September 2009

Fuck homophobia.

These made me laugh a lot. I watched them over and over and over.
Fuck You! by Lily Allen

The Big Fat Gay Collab!

French (are hot).

Hungarian actors and writers.


Manchester pride.


Another Brazilian one.

Who's down to make one? Let's DO IT!

23 September 2009

63rd Calypso

God gave me eyes so I could see.
My senses, though, don't set me free.
God gave me mind so I could think.
From this to that, I'd find the link.
Man gave me money, oh so grand.
Now I will never understand.

The Story: These rainy days are really fueling a love of hot coffee and books within me. Today, between my classes, I went and got a delicious Cafe au Lait with soy milk. A small, naturally. Well, by mistake, the cashier charged me for a medium, so the lady at the counter handed me a medium, pointing out the problem and apologizing for it. Well, the difference between a small and a medium is like 40 cents, so it's really no big deal, so I thanked her and went to enjoy the coffee. Only the real difference between a small and a medium is like four ounces, and boy, am I sensitive to caffeine! If I'd used my eyes and my mind, I would have simply not finished the coffee and been happy. Common sense. Only I am blinded by money, and finished the medium, knowing that it's what I'd paid for. Men often create futile symbols that obstruct our understanding of the world.

The Point: Blame Kurt Vonnegut for my turning every day epiphanies into theological poetry.
(Or, perhaps, it's poetic theology?)
After reading one of his books for the first time (Cat's Cradle), I've officially decided that Vonnegut is the best author ever.
He blew my mind, and I'm still coming.
And I've converted to Bokonism.

21 September 2009

Drug Free Schools

My sister suffers from migraines. They run in my family.
Not-so-fun fact: Migraine headaches occur about 3 times as often in women as in men -- 60% happen around the time of menstruation.
Migraines are no fun, no fun at all. Throbbing headache, nausea, vomiting. It's a very, very miserable experience, and I'm lucky to have only had a migraine a couple times in my life. My poor sister, on the other hand, gets them quiet often.

The other day, she got a migraine at school. On her off-period, she went to the nurse's office, asking for an Excedrin Migraine. Excedrin Migraine contains 250mg of Acetaminophen (Tylenol), 250mg of Aspirin, and 65mg of Caffeine (which treats headaches, especially migraines).

Cherry Creek High School, it turns out, does not carry Excedrin Migraine.
It's a caffeine free school.

Just another example how the 21st century is run by morons.

A rainy morning.

There's a true fall day outside my window. Rain has been falling on-an-off since before I opened my eyes, and puddles have collected in cracks and corners. Rumors of upcoming snowy nights spread faster than the common cold, and everyone seems somewhat unprepared for the weather.

This is truly a nice change of pace. My sweaters and jackets are rejoicing. Every morning when I opened the closet door, they held their breath, hoping I'd reach for them, but sighed with disappointed as I reached for a skirt once again. At last, their time has come. Not that my yawning skirts mind: they are ready for hibernation. It's a win-win situation.

I dressed in black and white this morning, matching the colorless weather, and went off to my early morning class. It was cloudy and sad, but I was much too busy being sleepy to even consider the possibility of rain. Thus, when 8:50 came about, and I had to walk to my 9-o'clock class, I had neither a hood nor the attitude to walk in the rain. Like most everyone else, I grimaced, hunched over, and walked quickly, silently cursing fall. One smiling stranger changed all that. A beautiful girl wearing a bright-colored rain jacket and a colorful knit hippie-style hat shouted the obvious to her friend across the field: "it's raining!" Normally, such a random and obnoxious exclamation would bring out the cynical critic in me, but there was so much joy in her voice, that I couldn't help but smile. "I'm so happy!" she shouted with a smile, and suddenly, I was happy, too. I smiled, straightened up, and saw the beauty in the gloomy morning.

Still, after my second class had ended, I was not about to make the ten-minute-walk back to my dorm in the rain. Instead, I curled up with a book by a window in the hallway and waited for the rain to slow down. The window was behind a staircase railing, and I sat in the window sill, feeling happy and cozy. It reminded me of my room at home: I have a big windowsill there, and my bodypillow made it a very comfy place to sit. Often, I'd sit there and read, glancing out the window at the leaves of the aspen that grew outside. After a while, the rain had stopped, and I went back to my room.

After lunch, I sat outside the library with a coffee, reading. As I read, the rays of the sun found their way through the clouds; my page was somewhat brighter, and my arms felt warmer. It was then that the rain - which had remained dormant since 10:15AM - restarted, leaving wavy polka-dots on my page. Not exactly a sun shower, but the sunniest shower there was all day.

The autumnal equinox is tomorrow at 21:18. Happy fall!

13 September 2009


It's time for me to be proud.

Time to be proud of my heritage. I was ashamed of it for most of my life, but I refuse to be ashamed anymore. I'll proudly tell others that I was born in Russia, I'll proudly speak with an accent. I'll proudly tell you what Russia was like and what it was like to live there. My heritage makes me different, it makes me special, it makes me unique. And I'm proud of it.

Time to be proud of my body. I will no longer look for faults with it, no longer complain about the little things as everyone does. I will no longer fall into the trap the media built for women, I will be proud being just the way I am.(about the image: John Lennon and Yoko Ono on the cover of their album Two Virgins. The idea was to depict natural human form.)

I will, from now on, be proud of my sexuality. I've hid it for so long, denied it for many years. I couldn't be myself when I was living with my family, when I was scared of the truth, when I refused to be proud. No more hiding. No more sleeping with men despite the fact that they never once satisfied me. From now on, I am proud to be gay.

Proud to be myself, and everything it entails. I am unique and an individual. I will stand out, I will say what I want. No longer will I remain silent because I'm scared to say something that will make me seem "weird". I am not afraid to stand out, I am not afraid to be judged by others. After all, I am only myself, and no one else is me.

12 September 2009


The words "home" and "hometown" have always confused me. Such simple words, yet it seems I've never understood what they really mean.

In ninth grade, I made a myspace. Clearly, there was some info I had to fill out. Gender: Female, Age: 15, Birth Date: 12.22.90, Religion: Atheist, Sexuality: Bi-curious (I changed that to Straight about a month later and it remained such, at least on myspace, for the remainder of high school). And, finally, the one that caused me the most trouble: "Hometown".

Unsure as to what I should say, I went and checked all my friend's profiles, wondering what their answer was. All of them referenced the place they spent their childhood, or the place they were born. Often, I knew they barely spent any of their life actually living there, but somehow they still referred to it as their hometown.

For a while, my hometown was listed as Khabarovsk, Russia. I figured that made sense: I lived there until I was seven, and then again when I was eight going on nine. Yet, somehow, I hated of thinking of Khabarovsk as my hometown. "Home", I've been told, "is where the heart is". Well, very little of my heart is in Russia. In fact, most of my heart hated Russia and hated being Russian. I hated being associated with Russian people, hated having an accent, hated standing out, hated any reference to Russia, hated everything that had to do with the one place I just so happened to be born. Khabarovsk, Russia, was not my hometown.

I then considered all the places I'd lived. Pullman, WA was not my hometown. Oh, I loved it dearly. I still remember its playgrounds, parks, libraries, and McDonalds. This was the first town in the United States that I lived in, and I loved it. Only I made no connection with the town or the people in it. I could have lived in any other town, and I would have learned just as much. I was a happy loner child, and I read a lot and colored a lot and spent a lot of time swinging, but I seldom spoke to any peers, to the extent that it worried my teachers, my principle, and the school psychologist. Without people to connect to, I can't imagine Pullman being my hometown.

After Pullman, I lived in Glen Ellyn, IL. For the first time in my life, I thought I had friends. "Thought" is the keyword. I really didn't. I only interacted with people within the classroom, while during lunch and recess, I was entirely alone. Still, class was lots of fun. For the first time in my life, in Glen Ellyn, I lived in a house. A huge huge house my stepdad renovated himself about a billion times over, a house which was actually two houses, two zipcodes, and two cities (Glen Ellyn and Glendale Heights). Also, unlike the small college town of Pullman, WA, Glen Ellyn was a suburb. I developed a sense of living in a larger community: Chicagoland. To this day, I still feel connected to anyone who's ever inhabited that area, especially those who've lived in the western suburbs. Nonetheless, after just a year, there is no way that Glen Ellyn could be my hometown.

I started sixth grade at West Middle School in Colorado. Middle school was miserable. I lived in Glendale, a small island-town far away from the rest of the Cherry Creek School District, far away from all my friends. I hated everyone that lived in Glendale and despised every bus ride to and from school. At school, I befriended the girls who were at the top of the social hierarchy. "Befriended" is not an accurate word. I struggled with non-verbal communication and failed to realize that I was not one of their friends, just someone who stood around all the time and was especially annoying. After those three horrible years, I never thought that Colorado could ever be my home.

The first place I ever regarded as a hometown was Palo Alto, California. I lived there my freshman year of highschool. For the first time in my life, I made friends, had a boyfriend, went out, enjoyed life. We had inside jokes, "our spots", and made tons of great memories. I blossomed into a person in California, but I still had a long way to go.

On a somewhat aside, I made a very interesting socio-geographic observation about suburbia. Bay Area and Chicagoland suburbs are very different from newer Denver suburbs. In Chicago and the Bay, every town had a strong personal identity, including somewhat clear boundaries and a downtown. Each suburb had a highschool of its own, so everyone who goes to that highschool lives in the same town. Thus, it was easy to relate to and to befriend everyone and anyone in the school. In Colorado, on the other hand, multiple suburbs fed into both my middle and my highschool. Often, kids would self-segregate based on neighborhood. That led to other types of segregation, mostly race and class segregation, and created powerful social hierarchies based mostly on wealth. I believe another factor contributed to the wealth-based hierarchy: in Palo Alto and Glen Ellyn, the downtown was a wonderful place to hang out. When the suburb has no downtown, the only place for youth to assemble is the mall, which naturally draws attention to wealth. I talked to my AP Human Geography teacher about this last year (not the segregation, but the suburbs' personal identities), and he said that the reason this is the case is because Chicagoland and Bay Area suburbs are older than Denver Metro Area suburbs. Older suburbs around Denver - such as Littleton and Aurora - have much stronger personal identities, and even might have their own downtowns. I will refer to this paragraph later in this blog.

After a year in California, I, sadly, moved back to Denver. Things were tough at first. I lived once again in Glendale, and hated Creek. It took me a long time to find my place, and I reluctantly spent a lot of time alone, seldom going out. That, combined with intense adjustment depression, made my first year back especially difficult.

The summer before my Junior year of highschool, my mom purchased her first home. It was close - only two miles away - to my school and much closer to all my friends. At last, it was easier to go out, to hang out, to have fun. I began to settle in, and even learned that there are things I could enjoy about Creek (such as the many fun courses it offers). For the first time in my life, I began to feel like I have a home and a hometown. I made some of the best friends in the world my last two years of highschool and had the time of my life. It was then that I also fell in love with Colorado, and I knew that my heart will always stay here. I love the mountains, I love Denver, and I love this amazing state.

Also, around that time of my life, I began going to Tomahawk Ranch as a CIT. Tomahawk is a home like no other, a retreat not from stress or worry, but from the stress and worry of the real world. It's a place to dream, to love, and to be yourself. The friends I made at TR are amazing, and I will forever consider it my home.

Despite the fact that I now know what my hometown is, my confusion about what to call it has not gone away. Whenever someone asks me where my hometown is, I usually say "Denver" or "Denver suburbs". Technically, my address says "Englewood", but I don't live in Englewood. I remember during college orientation, I was talking to a guy from the Denver Metro Area, and he asked me where I'm from. "Denver-ish," I answered, and he accurately replied with, "Greenwood Village? Centennial?" "Yeah," I laughed, "How'd you know?" "Denver-ish usually means Greenwood Village or Centennial. People from Aurora say Aurora, people from Littleton say Littleton, people from Denver say Denver, people from Highlands Ranch say Highlands Ranch. People from Greenwood Village and Centennial don't know what to say." Which is true. Greenwood Village and Centennial have very unusual boundaries, contain many unincorporated neighborhoods, and have no personal identity. The closest thing we have to a downtown is the Denver Tech Center, which is mostly office buildings and places to eat, and even that's fairly spread out. Lately, to Colorado natives, I've begun answering "Greenwood Village", though I'm slightly embarrassed. I had a really good conversation with a girl from Highlands Ranch about how much it sucks to be from "one of those" embarrassing places.

The word "home" also took on a new meaning for me lately. I've realized that, in college, "home" refers to your hometown and "school" refers to where you live most of the year. Well, somehow, that just doesn't work for me. Sure, I refer to "home" as "home", but it's not the same definition of home that I've used all my life, that word took on a meaning that's entirely new. When it's time to head back to Boulder, I tell my family that I'm going "home". I've had many temporary homes in my life, and this is one of them. But, just because its temporary, that doesn't make it any less of a home. I love Boulder, I love the people I've met here, I'm beginning to love my school, and I love living up here. This is, truly, home.

Edit: Colorado is my home. I've noticed that, whenever I go out of town, even for just a weekend, I feel so much joy when I return. Denver - downtown Denver - is my home, and whenever I come home from Boulder, I get a rush whenever I feel myself approaching the city. Boulder is also my home, I miss it so much when I'm away, and I feel happy the moment I return. 01.06.10

09 September 2009

If I was born male ...

I remember when Lauren and I used to say that we were meant to be born gay men. We were best friends at the time, and we had a lot in common. She was bi (and sometimes lesbian) and I was straight (but sometimes questioning). We were both outcasts, though happy within our odd group of friends, and both longed for a way to escape society. We hated the way the world expected us to act and despised those who always seemed to fit in. And both of us wished we'd been born male. Thinking about that recently, I realized that if I had been born male, I would most definitely not be gay. Not that I would be your usual man, either. What would I be like if I had been born male?

If I was born male, I would be your typical boy, though I'd probably be somewhat quiet. I'd be a lot more social than I was as a girl, and I'd have many friends. I would love playing sports, being rowdy, building forts, and playing with trains and legos. I would become obsessed with baseball and monster trucks, and everyone would tell my mom what a cute boy I am (after all, people told my mom that I was a cute boy when I was a girl with short hair). Overall, I would have a very good childhood and wouldn't really stand out at all.

If I was male in middle school, things would start to change. I was a late bloomer as a girl, so I'd be a late bloomer as a boy. I wouldn't know how to talk to girls, nor would I have much interest in talking to them at all. I would be a lot more comfortable with my guy friends. Things would get really hard for me once my mom would stop buying me clothes. I would do my best to be a fashionable male, but I would feel uncomfortable in men's clothing and I would wonder what a man is supposed to look like. When no one's home, I would try on my sister's skirts, and feel really embarrassed about it afterward. I would become very self-conscious and might even start to hate myself.

If I was a male in high school, things would get better. Having blossomed, I would come to love my body, and I'd work out and run often, making sure I stay in the best of shape. I would become very proud of my pecs, my abs, and my dick. I would start to fall for girls, and girls would fall for me, too. If I was a man, I would be damn sexy. I would start sleeping with my girlfriends and I would become very comfortable with my sexuality. Nonetheless, I would still be very fashion conscious. I'd develop my personal man-style, possibly one that would involve many button-down shirts, though I'd experiment with other looks, as well. I'd get into raving, and I'd love the bright, neon, feminine colors that are so popular in the culture. I'd enjoy wearing Tripps, Phats, and bell bottoms, but only within the context of a rave. Also, just for fun one day, I would wear a kilt. I would love it, and I would wish I could wear skirts and dresses and still me manly. As a result, I would become jealous of women and critical of feminists, thinking that it's unfair that females complain about being unequal when they can do so many things I can't: wear pants OR a skirt, be intimate with their friends of either gender, and wait on the guy to make a move.

If I was a male in college, I'd have lots of fun. I would be very promiscuous, sometimes sleeping with multiple women in one night, though usually sticking with a few especially sexy fuck-buddies. Sometimes, I would wonder if I'm missing out on something by not being in a relationship or falling in love, but then I'd lose myself in the body of a beautiful woman I just met, and I'd forget all my worries. I would be a very sentimental man-whore. Perhaps, secretly, I would start cross-dressing. I would befriend other cross-dresses who'd accept me for who I am. I would even tell a few of my guy friends about it, but only the very good friends, who'd laugh at me and think it was really weird, but they'd keep in quiet because our man-bond would be so strong. Sure, they'd accuse me of being gay, but by that point in time, I'd be so comfortable with girls, I wouldn't even consider it. Girls are hot.

Eventually, if I was born male, I'd grow up. I would get married to a beautiful, intelligent woman, and we'd have beautiful babies. We would be the average family, and we'd all be very happy. I would make an amazing father and the kids would love me. Maybe we'd get divorced, but it wouldn't be a tragic divorce, and we'd both re-marry, equally splitting time with our children, staying in touch, and still remaining happy. I would be amazing and happy, fitting in perfectly in the workforce. I would look amazing in a suit, and I would always wear the most fashionable ties. I would be a happy, healthy, and attractive man my entire life.

If was born male, I would often wonder what life would be like if I was born female. I really want to know what male-me would predict about female-me.

04 September 2009

Snapple Caps

Ever since I was a little child, I had a collection of Snapple caps (I absolutely adore the Real Facts, and always hoped to collect them all, which is quiet impossible). Recently, for the first time in my life, I counted my caps. I have:

59 different Real Facts.
65 total Snapple caps.
2 other caps.
67 total caps.
My smallest numbered Real Fact is #1.
My biggest numbered Real Fact is #919.
My longest streak of consecutive Real Facts consists of 3 caps: 175 - 176 - 177.

Here's a picture of my collection, organized by Real Fact number from left to right.

Here's a random Real Fact out of my collection: In ancient Rome, lemons were used as an antidote to all poisons. (Real Fact #285).

02 September 2009

Stall Wall Conversations

I'm extremely fascinated with conversations that take place on bathroom stall walls. Here is a conversation I found today:

Reach out to those that need it
Reach down to help others up
Reach up to God for guidance

Comments about God on stall walls are very common, and they often illicit very interesting responses:

Reach up to a figment of your imagination.

Why do I have to reach up to your god? Why not mine? Or hers? Or his?

Why do you have to reach for god at all? ISN'T GOD EVERYWHERE?

Reach sideways to wipe your ass.

The third one is by far my favorite, and I was quiet shocked at the apparent un-womanliness of the latter comment, though that's just my inherent sexism talking.

Another, much shorter conversation branched off the original comment.

Someone had written condescending, circled it, and drew a line to the word "down" (in the second line).

In response, someone wrote: Then do you reach up? to help others that fell down dumbass??

Some loving soul decided to surround the entire exchange with some peace-loving quotes. These two comments were in the same handwriting, so they are by the same person:

Remember the GOLDEN RULE
Love makes the world go around

Naturally, this is all very amusing. I'm gonna try to visit that bathroom stall often to check for updates.

Yes, I feel like quiet the dork sitting on the toilet with my journal on my lap, writing down the things that are written on the wall.

30 August 2009

My Hobby: Graphing Everything.

Including video games. Mostly because I'm curious and a visual person.
The graph is kinda small, so let me explain it. The game is Winterbells, one of my favorite games on the internet: http://www.ferryhalim.com/orisinal/g3/bells.htm

In this game, you are a bunny trying to catch as many bells as you can to the tune of beautiful winter-y music. Each bell is worth ten points more than the previous bell, so your total score looks like this: T=10 (1+2+...+n). I bet there's a better way to express that, but I am not mathematically talented, nor am I particularly mathematically knowledgeable, I'm just curious. Anyways, that's the pink line on the graph, showing a geometric progression (right? wrong?).

Well, every once in a while, there's a bird, and if you catch the bird, your score doubles, but then continues to increase as it did previously. I was curious how much the bird actually helped your score in the grand scheme of things, so I graphed this phenomenon. In the game, birds come along about every 20 bells, but that would be a crazy graph, so I decided to assume that the score is doubled after every five bells. That's the blue line. What a great visual!

Yeah, I'm a nerd. But it's interesting, and I'm very curious! Don't judge.

The end is approaching.

Her mind is young.
Her dreams are vast.
Carelessly, she hums
And sometimes dances
Believing in love,
In changing the world.

But the end of time
Is steadily watching.

She starts at the beginning,
Begins at the start.
Wisely she prepares
And builds a solid foundation,
Her head held high
Through every toil.

But the end of time
Is at her side.
His arm grazes hers,
And she takes his hand.

Moving boldly ahead.
Obstacles are commonplace.
The world refuses to change.
She bites her lip.
They refuse to listen,
But there must be away.

And the end of time
Has embraced her.
He holds her close
And whispers secrets in her ear.
His arms keep her warm
As his breath trickles down her neck.

Even her greatest efforts
Are futile. Nothing changes.
Victories are quickly forgotten.
Trouble still festers over the land.
Tears fade her bright eyes,
Hope begins to vanish.

Now the end of time
Kisses her soft lips.
His slippery tongue enjoys her.
He nibbles her sensitive neck,
Intimately stroking her body,
Sighing and moaning,
As she begins to gasp.
She opens up, giving in.

Her dreams are lost in the past.
She never cries nor laughs:
She's been sad for much too long.
She silences her daughter's hopes
And heartlessly watches
As the world begins to plummet.

For the end of time
Is now inside her.
Like an evil serpent,
He slithers to her heart
And tears it out.
He is inside us all:
In our selfish desires
And paralyzing fears
Deflowering our inner child
So he can bring the world to an end.