| Friday, July 29, 2005 |
| full steam ahead to emo lj-whoredom... |
I've been avoiding these things because they seem insubstantial compared to what I normally like to post, but I haven't been doing a lot of that lately, now have I? And boredom is a wonder at lowering your standards. Stolen from Ruu.
1. Name: La Malinche
2. Your Nick Names: Just about everyone calls me Pete. Or p, online. I've been called Burnsie Bitch.
3. Place of Birth: Evanston
4. Zodiac Sign: Rat. Also, Scorpio. I've been told I am the utter essence of a water sign, but like I remember that that means.
5. Male or Female: Male.
6. Your last name: Malinche? Burns.
7. School: University of Iowa
8. Occupation: Student [I should get paid...]
9. Residence: Dorm, soon.
10. Screen Name: atm, Alexander Supertramp
___Your Appearance___
11. Hair Color: Brown, sometimes Black-looking.
12. Hair Long or Short: Longer than I'd like, but too lazy to get a haircut.
13. Eye Color: Hazel
14. How do your nails look: Chewed.
15. Height: 6'1-2"
16. Do you have a crush on someone right NOW (truthfully): Eh, no one in particular.
17. Do you like yourself: Bite me.
18. Braces?: Nope. Had a retainer once. Lost it in the garbage once and had the whole staff of Boston Market rummage through the dumpster to find it for me.
19. Think you're hot?: Yes. Summer does that.
20. Piercings: Nep.
21. Tattoos: Nep.
22. Righty or Lefty: Righty.
___Your 'Firsts'___
23. First Kiss: Amanda, Kindergarten. ^_^
24. First B.F/G.F: Debatable. Probably n/a.
25. First best friend(s): First? Justin.
26. First Award: Don't remember, specifically. One of these from elementary school, I sure, that coincidentally happen to still be hanging over the head of what used to be my bed.
27. First Sport You Joined: Basketball. Played yearly until I got tired of sucking.
28. First pet: Bird, Joey, that I don't remember. Otherwise, dog, Chestnut.
29. First vacation: Annual family reunions in Colorado until junior high.
30. First Concert: First non-high-school-garage-band concert was Evanescence at the Met with fewer than 100 people, before they were überfamous. [/musicsnob]
31. First "Real" Love: Nervous laugh.
___ Favorites___
32. Movie: atm, Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Fluctuates rapidly, though.
33. TV Show: NGE, LE, HiME. Not really in that order.
34. Color: Indigo
35. Band: Shiro Sagisu, apparently, though I always have trouble picking a small number.
36. Song: Na Han, apparently, which...it's pretty.
37. Food: I'm itching for country-fried chicken [yes, with gravy].
38. Drink: Root Beer. IBC, Sprecher's, etc. Mmm...
39. Candy: Snickers, maybe. More of a baked-goods person.
40. Sport To Play: Pickleball was recently usurped by Whirlyball.
41. Sport To Watch: Eh...men's swimming and diving, maybe?
42. Brand Of Clothing: Whatever.
43. Stores: I can entertain myself in computer stores for indeterminate lengths of time.
44. School Subject: Nonfic. Workshops in particular.
45. Animal: I guess wolves, but that might just be reflecting my sister's obsession.
46. Books: Still feeling the giddy aftereffects of HP:HBP, but I dunno if it's my favorite. Hard to say.
47. Magazines: Eh...nat'l geographic is pretty.
___Currently___
48. Eating: Nada.
49. Drinking: Water.
50. Online?: Erm, yes?
51. Listening to: / Madonna - American Life - 06 - Nothing Fails ¤ 01:34/04:48 [|||||·········] ¤ 256 kbps mp3 \
52. Thinking About: QAF, since Jake keeps talking about it.
53. Wanting To: Take a shower.
54. Watching: Tree branches sway outside window.
55. Wearing: T-shirt, pants, underwear...?
___Your Future___
56. Want kids?: Erm, no. I'll enjoy someone else's and let them deal with the messy/annoying bits.
57. Want to Get Married?: It'd be nice, on a theoretical level.
___Which is Better With The Opposite/Same Sex___
58. Cute or Sexy: Yee. Not really mutually exclusive, but I'm probably drawn more to sexy.
59. Lips or Eyes: Eyes. I have a thing.
60. Hugs or Kisses: Both.
62. Easygoing or serious: Hm. I often need both.
63. Romantic or Spontaneous: I...both.
64. Fatty or Skinny: ...heh. Hipocracy, anyone?
65. Sensitive or Loud: Er...same as #58.
66. Hook-up or Relationship: Both have their appeal.
67. Sweet or Caring: Please.
68. Trouble Maker or Hesitant One: Again, with the "both."
___Have You Ever___
69. Kissed a stranger: No.
70. Drank Alcohol: Yes.
71. Smoked: No.
72. Ran Away From Home: Never seriously or for more than a night.
73. Broken a Bone: My toe, once!
74. Got an X-ray: Yes.
75. Broken Someone's Heart: Not as far as I know.
76. Broke Up With Someone: N--well. Not in the sense I think the question is asking.
77. Turned Someone Down: Heh, no.
78. Cried When Someone Died: Yes.
79. Cried At School: Yes.
___Do You Believe In___
80. God: I belive in a god...ish...thingy.
81. Miracles: Sure, in a humanist sense.
82. Love At First Sight: Nah.
83. Ghosts: No.
84. Aliens: Yes.
85. Soul Mates: I don't even know how to define it, let alone whether or not to believe in it.
86. Heaven: I think there's something more than what we know. Don't know if it's Heaven, as such...
87. Hell: ...or Hell. But something.
88. Kissing on The First Date: Yes, I do believe people do this.
89. Horoscopes: Yes, they exist.
___Answer Truthfully___
90. Is There Someone You Want But You Know You Can't Have?: Well, other than every cute boy I see walking down the street/on TV, no. ^_^; |
posted by La Malinche @ 12:57 AM   |
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| Thursday, July 07, 2005 |
| it must be a mandate |
Below is my 10th post. That's 9 more than I ever thought I'd make. Given that each time it's like giving birth through my tear duct, I feel a need to say thanks to everyone who's kept me going through sometimes what seems like the tiniest bit of support. Each time I hear that someone is thinking of me or keeping up with my news is more heartening than you'd think.
The news, by the way, includes a gradual realization that I'll be going back to Iowa this fall, that in fact it sounds like there was never really a question about it. We never had the big discussion about it that was promised, it was just a matter of being attentive to my dad's asides in conversation. The more I think about it, the more it seems like pulling me out of school was an empty threat. It sounds childish, but the people that know him [even if only for a minute] shouldn't be surprised. If you'll excuse my channeling the inner emo LJ-whore, it'll be nice to get the hell out of this wicked little town. I'll get a taste of that tomorrow, when people will be paying me to leave my house, sleep on their couch, eat their food, and play with their dog. I think I might like house-sitting. |
| posted by La Malinche @ 3:22 AM |
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| out in public |
Someone asked for my coming-out story recently, so I figured I'd share with y'all.
I never knew what "gay" meant growing up. I attended a private Catholic school throughout my elementary and junior high education, and it just wasn't discussed, even during Sex Ed. It wasn't until I entered the vast, brightly-colored world of a public high school that I came in contact with the very idea of "the gays." Children in suburbia are for the most part coddled and spoiled, but only so far as they conform. Throughout those four years I started edging away from that conformity as I realized that maybe it wasn't a case of "I can see why girls would think he's cute" as I'd assumed for my entire life to that point.
My sophomore year I came out to my best friend. She was surprised, but supportive, though her first question was "are you sure you don’t just think you're gay because you've never had a girlfriend?" I was quick to defend myself: "I've had a girlfriend! In kindergarden, a girl named Amanda pushed me into the closet and kissed me, on the mouth!"
A short time later, I came out to the person who would become my greatest ally to this day--my older sister. She too was surprised, but she has been great about it--she's never questioned it, and never hesitates to listen to me rant when I need to. She even told me a story that helped a great deal. When she had just started university study at Colorado State, she got a phone call from my dad, who had just seen a movie about Matthew Shepard. He told her that he was glad she hadn't chosen to attend school in Wyoming; it was hard for him to believe that there were people in the world who could do that to someone. When I heard this, I actually felt good about it--it was a sign that my dad would worry about me being gay, which in turn implied that he'd be accepting of it. Overall, a positive start to the process--I was encouraged.
Emboldened by my portfolio of two successful comings-out, I aimed for bigger fish--my parents. I told my mom first--I've always felt more at ease with her than with my dad. I basically came straight out (and came—not-so-straight—out) and told her one night. She grew quiet for a while, and then without looking at me, said, "give it time." While it wasn't the worst possible outcome, I was devastated. That put a halt to my progress. I stopped talking about it with everyone, even the people I'd already come out to. I grew even more introverted than I already was, and avoided my friends. I was gay, that was certain; I couldn't start denying it then. But that one of the people who was supposed to feel nothing but unconditional love for me could deny me, deny who I was, struck me deeply.
Interestingly, the person to bring me out of my slump was the next person on my list where I'd left off--my dad. I was sitting at my computer, and he at his desk, and he told me that he'd been checking up on the websites I'd been visiting--one of them was PFLAG. He asked me if I were gay. Having sworn to myself never to lie about it, I quickly said yes. I didn't know how he was going to react, but I knew that if I wasn't at least truthful about it, it could never be a positive part of my life. To my surprise, he took it fine. He was stoic about it, like he was about almost everything, but he accepted it, and wanted to understand what it was like. He even offered to "spread the word" to my extended family, but I refused. If anyone was going to know, it was going to come from me. Just like that, I was back on track.
After my initial forays into the out world, I thought I was doing pretty well. If you'd asked me then, I would have described myself as out and truthful about my sexuality. I would have been lying.
While it was true that I would never even think about claiming to be straight, I wasn't being honest, with myself or with others. Whenever any subject related to romance or sexuality came up, whether it was talking about politics, or someone asking one of my cousins about his girlfriend, my heart skipped a beat. I didn't look like the stereotypical gay male, and I certainly never talked about it, so most people assumed I was straight, and treated me as such. And I let them.
I spent years in this kind of limbo, where those close to me knew I was gay, but I didn't talk about it, and hid it from my larger family and the general public. I became very good at changing the subject, and speaking in vague generalities. Everything I said, every move I made was carefully calculated--it got to the point where this manic obsession with keeping up appearances kept me from talking to people I loved at all. While I never lied when asked about my sexuality, I purposefully kept it from people. I didn't admit to anyone, least of all myself, how important in my life my sexuality is, and in that I was being dishonest about who I was.
I've only started being honest with myself about my sexuality very recently. In the course of my studies last semester, I wrote a nonfiction story about the first time I was ever really attracted to another boy. My teacher, a grad student, urged me to read the piece aloud at a public reading, and I did. It was the first time I'd ever outed myself to a group of people, and the first time I'd ever outed myself to someone I didn't know. The reading was well-recieved (I even got a catcall from someone in the audience), but it wasn't until I'd gotten back to my seat that I realized what I'd done, and it felt good.
After the reading, a woman whose writing I admire very much approached me. She'd been one of the guest speakers during class, and she's writing a novel about her experiences with her partner and their daughter. Her partner concieved the girl, and so when they split up, she herself had no legal relationship with her daughter. I admire her for sharing her story, and so when she tracked me down after the reading to congratulate me, I was stunned.
A couple of days later, I was to give a presentation in my Cultural Diversity course. I ended up scrapping the formal presenation the night before, and I just talked about exactly this--about various stages of out-ness, the reasons for them, and my own experiences in telling an auditorium full of people I was gay. My teacher, an out lesbian, cried.
Shortly after that, I turned in a letter to my nonfic teacher as part of my final project--I wrote about these experiences, about how empowering they had felt. She sent me an email in response, and included an essay she had written for one of her graduate courses, that she was unable to finish, she said, until she read my letter. The essay was titled "Out In Public," and in it she wrote about me reading my essay, and discussing coming out in a class presentation--she wrote about how my "bravery and quiet confidence," attributes I'd never associated with myself, inspired her. In the email she told me that our guest writer that had attended my reading was in fact her girlfriend, and that this was the first time she'd come out to one of her students.
Before my reading, I sent a panicked email to a mentor of mine. He replied almost immediately, and in his email was a line that I scribbled on my papers for both the reading and my presentation: "lay claim to who you are...with truth, dignity, and trust."
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| posted by La Malinche @ 3:04 AM |
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