ya 4WI, gw masih punya hati nurani, gw masih punya rasa percaya, paling tidak buat diri gw sendiri kok.

I put all my trust even my believing in your arms, but knp ga berbanding lurus dengan keyakinan gw. Sungguh gw sedih euy. Gw jadi bertanya-tanya untuk apa semua ini coba?

Sudah-sudah, anggap aja ini permainan, atau mgkn teka-teki atau mungkin puzzle, gw tinggal mencari potongan mana yang tepat, gaya mana yang cocok bukan?

mungkin gw jugakah yang harus mengakhiri episode ini, atau menciptakan suatu skenario agar bibit kebencian bisa terkumpul dan itu jalan yang memudahkan semuanya?

Entahlah, satu hal saja kok, gw ga ingin menangis untuk alasan-alasan yang tidak penting, thats all.

Oh my god, Becky, look at her boobs
There are like so many
She looks like one of those nerd guys girlfriends
Who understands those nerd guys
They only talk to her because she looks like a total loser, ok?
I mean her boobs
There's just so many
I can't believe they're so big
They're just not there
I mean, it's gross
Look, she's just so freakish!

You have three boobs and you can not lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waste
And three boobs in your face
You get sick
Don't wanna pull up front
Cuz you notice that bra was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she's wearing
I'm sick but I can't stop staring
Oh, baby I don't wanna get with ya 
or take your picture
My homeboys tried to warn me
But with that chest you got
Me so corny
Ooh, rub all of that smooth skin
You say you wanna get in my Benz
Well use me, use me cuz you ain't that average groupy

*For the sake of context, let me explain.  Two days prior I quit my job at Dell when this a-hole called me to give me grief when I didn't want to come in the day after Christmas.  It felt really really good.  Then it felt bad.  This blog is the result of that feeling.  Only two weeks earlier we (Christina and me) moved into a new apartment.  I had some money in the bank and expected to have a job in time for February rent.  I'll let you find out what happened.

When I was six my friend Cheryl and I were in kiddie pool in her back yard.  She wanted me to put my whole head under water.  Everytime I tried, giving my all to completely immerse myself, I would come up and she would say, "You weren't even close.  You weren't even close."  And I would think, "that's impossible."  And I would have this already old, exasperated feeling of "well, I'm trying."  I quit another job Monday.  My resume is depreciating in value.  People are starting to have theories.  Injecting little proverbs in their speech like, "I don't like my job either," or "but I stuck it out til'..." They're starting to worry about what Christina's gotten herself into rooming with a person who can't keep a job.  It's a telling attribute.  And what it says you have no control over.  You can hear it in their voice, see it in their eyes and in their body english.  Like cells in the bloodstream, everyone wants to come rushing to fix the bleeding or the leak or the defective cell.  The problem.  I wonder does the cell, knowing by the change in the tide that troops are on the way, try to fix itself in that small window of time.  Does it chant, "why can't I do this?"  Does pride set in to diffuse the pain of the rod of correction.  I'm conducting a mental survey of people and their jobs.  People don't typically have lifelong careers but they tend to be able to measure their time of occupation in years.  Not to be rude but I'm a sound, practical person.  What do they have that I don't?  Or vice versa?  I went along in life thinking I've experienced at least a little of all of life's expanses, and here I find myself repeatedly in places of unspeakable torture.  What can I compare it to?  Have I had it that easy all these years, and any development I've had to go through still hasn't caught up with the rest of the world?  I'm still trying to find what I like, I know.  I suppose after a certain amount of "failures" people have to take notice and take over.  Maybe I think too highly of myself.  Maybe I am a flake.  I'm incensed, because second guessing myself was a terrible cancer I had to fight most of my life.  Could it be correction from my own self is no correction at all?  I can't even begin giving people license to try and fix me.  To see them missing the mark over and over like makeshift surgeon?  Wielding scalpels of criticism.  Defending me with their own perverted, incomplete perceptions of me.  Being sure of what you say is one of the most important things in this world.  I seem to know enough.  I should be able to do anything.  So why can't I?

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about a week ago I began my descent into severe dissatisfaction with life.  it occured to me suddenly, why should I like this place?  it positively doesn't suit me.  things are always falling, getting lost, breaking down.  this very computer will be shutting down in a few minutes.  things get old, lose vigor.  we must rely on things that give way, run out, and run ourselves ragged to get more so it can do it again.  this very fact is so depressing beyond any other.  not frequently is there a return on every investment.  well, there is one thing.  to top it all, it's fucking...hard....damn near impossible... to develop an inclination toward all good things.  it's hard to do good.  and the kicker?  on top of that?  is it's easy to do bad.  son of a bitch!  so until further notice i don't like this place.  ever since my mom compared this place to a bus station i haven't been able to get it out of my mind.  have you ever been to a bus station?  man, does that ever sum it up.  all of this is not to say that there are not good things about this place.  nor that the good things don't outweigh the bad.  i had a perfect opportunity to take myself out and i passed it up.  not b/c i was chicken shit but because, i don't know.  somehow knowing all this i still wanted to stay.  i can't really know why save for an intangible desire to exist, in this realm.  but mark my words...i may eat, i may smile, i might even try and convert you to christianity, but I am NOT!... happy...to be here.

well, good news and bad news.  I hate my last post but I like the idea of five minute blogs. 

When did a symbol of sexy become, "ooh, one or both of my spaghetti straps are falling."  Isn't that more like a "sloppy" or "homeless" vibe?  OMG you are hilarious.  You know what's sexy to me?  Truthfully?  like, good character.  In a man?  Yeah. 

I just had a weird thought.  What if Oprah was like, the antichrist?  No one, and I mean NO one, would see that one coming.  You were one of the earliest, kid.

So our grip on technology is eluding us.  It changes every sixteen days.  I saw some 60/20 Dateline special with Prince Charles who had some relatively enlightening thoughts on the matter.  His ears have mellowed out in his old age.  what?

So...work begins next week.  Is it too selfish to be missing my days off already?  You'll never get used to full time work.  A month, for God sakes.  And I was plenty restless.  I don't know.  A small price to pay, I guess.  There'll be plenty of variety as it is, I'm sure of it.  Don't be sure.

Nothing would be more thrilling in this world, and would rival all good things including birth, if some lucky day suddenly I was thrust into the permanent company of him whom my heart loves.  WHOA. 

woo, two minutes over.

  I have decided to have a change in nickname.  My username is still Gamer105, but you'll see me as Legoman11.  Thought I'd tell you!

Legoman11  =)

I'd be a lot more excited...if I were going on a picnic with someone.  Like, on a date.  Wouldn't that just be terribly romantic?  I love romantic things.  Her and I could sit on a blanket and snuggle and eat and hob nob and what not.  It'd be so romantic and cute.  If only if only.

My cat has offically gone insane...  And because he lives in my room I feel like a freakish cat lady.  Which is just weird and upsetting.  I don't want to be freakish and a cat lady...  It bothers me though, his litter box is up here and I am constantly worried my room smells like cat crap...  So usually I freak out if friends want to come over because of my litter box, so I like, clean it out every day.  It sucks.  Bleh.

i would just like to say that I luv my friends Jade and Christina.  Aww. And i am tired.

so i got a wig cuz i got tired of lookin like a dude all the time.  *Told ya! two actually.  one's curly and one's long.  i think it was just kind of like... cuz you know when your hair's all short and organic and permanent, then you want to go to the other extreme.  so I totally channeled my inner 'round the way girl and got me some fake stuff to deceive unsuspecting parties with.  and it's guh-reat.  for now.  i feel like beyonce.  not really.  but she wears fake stuff too.  don't even trip like she doesn't.

i spent the entire weekend with Stina, which is what you get to do when you spend 72 hours straight with a person: shorten their name.  we ate wheat pasta and salad with freakin' bell peppers in it. HAHAHHahahhHahHAHahh raw ones.  i was like, holey crap, what do you have me eatin'.  HHahahahhahahHA! every bread product she had was wheat.  HA! i'm feelin more than regaular, folks.  HaHA! it's strange the things that people can add to you.  we watched hitch for the 29th time and laughed endlessly about our subconsciously blurted expletives.  HAHAHAHhHhahhaha!!!! OMG!!! why are those funnier than the real thing?!  i'm becoming one of those people with second homes.   where it's high school and their parents never see them b/c they've been totally sucked in by the influence of some faceless other.  'Member I used to stay at ur house overnight any night, even when we had to work the next day?  Ugh, damn husbands.  And member when we both worked?  At like, actual jobs that began in the morning and ended in the afternoon?  Cuh-razy. only this way i'm an adult and it's a legitimate kind.

sweet georgia brown, i'm more than overdue for a dahl show.  what's uuuuuppppppp.  it's just like that, you forget about the chick that paid your way through medical school when you get to be the head of medicine or whatever.  i don't know, it was my metaphor gone sour.  friggin lap tops... it slows my typing time....  Overdue still, again... but that's sort of my fault.

oh, i love my ipod.  if it did the dishes, i wouldn't need to get married.  and vibrated.  that was my naughty nuance for the month.  week??  Aw, I still wub my iPod.  Even though it has no charge and consequently has to be plugged up at all times, and the headphones are long gone, and that it sometimes playes random bits of unrelated songs at the beginning of each new one.

anyways... my friends are reading everything i type and i'm feeling loved and under a microscope.  ciao to all those in cyber land.  see how my demeanor changes?  joey, i have been thinking about your birthday already and i am conjuring up a mix cd brew.  i don't know if it will rock you but it will be from me. One of the few times I "broke the fourth wall."  To talk to Joey.  that's fitting.

bedtime.

YouTube - Theo Jansen: The art of creating creatures

I just finished speaking at a bible study in which I lectured about feeling insecure, when this is today's secret word.  I do feel like screaming real loud.  I just wanna say I love you all, and sometimes when I see you people, in my mind I see a subway car during rush hour.  What I mean is, illusion or no, I sense that people don't have room for me in their hearts; or maybe they do but they don't feel like making the effort.  So I stand silently and pretend I'll be okay while you and everyone in your heart is watching, maybe look down at my magazine or fumble with my phone, pretend I didn't really want in anyway, until the doors close and my awkward embarrassment can be whisked away by bells and whistles and hot turbulent wind.  Yeah, I thought that was pretty eloquent myself.

I logged on today and the home page said: "new invites,"or whatever.  It was this scrawny kid from Arizona named "black girls only."  Which is fine with me of course but my God, man.  That's your name?  That's your identity?  Yeah, I was a little frightened.  I added him.  Just kidding.

Other than this, I have to shoo away the excitement from my life daily.  At least, what I think is exciting.  I hope you're all comforted by this.

I can't put my friggin music on my friggin' iPod because my friggin computer is too friggin old and damaged, and I have to figure out a friggin plan how to MacGuyver my audio files onto this friggin contraption so I can have a friggin moment's peace.  If I lose my audio files it will truly be the end of me.  And no Lord, this is no time for a test.  I haven't had a good sleep in awhile.  I have to go and clean up, I'm having a party tomorrow, unbeknownst to the people I will soon invite, and I have a friend coming in town and am planning a suprise.

this is just a fluke.  you won't always see me this often.  just thought I'd share.

Hey.  Writing something exactly a month later seemed fitting.  I want you to know I had big plans for you.  Not you, you.  I'm talking to my blog.  But I had a lapse.  There was a time where I would have to wait for the right conditions before I would do something.  Putting old ways behind you is an ongoing action.  It goes from hard to easy, but never away.  I've been very very busy lately.  Most people would say that this is no excuse but I'd say it's a pretty good one.  I'm not usually that.  I've never been that.  I haven't had time to exercise, buy groceries, watch tv, I don't recall what my apartment looks like really.

My birthday was the 15th of July.  I invited a couple of friends, *Oh my gosh...is this what I think it is?  Yes.  It is the birth of Christine/Christina. there was a sleepover involved, a  movie.  Some pseudo Italian food and Harry Potter mania.  It was an affair that lasted well into the next week.  For my birthday I got two best friends, Jade, come back to us! a bit of a sore heart, and $600 for a ticket to Florence.  I took $200 and bought myself an iPod.  For some reason there's always an undercurrent of disillusionment.  There are a couple things that beckon to me consistently these days.  I'm responsible enough to know that sometimes you just have to wait.  And wait.  And wait.

The week before that I spent in Boston with la mia amica Amanda di Firenze.  I'm surprised I remembered that much.  We tried our hardest not to rely on stale memories to revive us, but with Amanda there are always new memories to be made.  "Go, my brothers, go!!"  We were lesbians for the weekend.  Not physically mind you but we walked in the rain and had dinner parties and watched Absolutely Fabulous on DVD.  Amanda I fucking, miss you. If someone told me one day I'd have a friend willing to share her extra long twin-sized bed with me I'd call them a liar.  Grazie mile Amanda for your generous gift of love and hastily made mix CD.  Je Ne Se Doiree!!  Spoon!  That freaky CD you got in the shop in Sienna!  Henri Mancini! Only with you would I spend $12 on toothbrushes.  Take care of that bloody nose.

My friends and I spend about half the week together these days, when we're not sending e-mails and fasting on each other's behalf.  LOloloLOLOL, buncha freaks. It is no small coincidence that once I began the profound gesture of putting a pair of dark, slender hands to God's work I would find a kindred or two, be the boasting participant in a humble trinity engrossed in the delicate pursuit of excellence.  It's only what I've been praying for since...since... And what exactly is God's work.  Not as steep as it sounds.  Learning how to stop being a jerk.  It begins there.  And you know what ended it?  A damn boy.  Not even a good one.

"When the king heard the words of the Law, he tore his robes.  He gave these orders...'Go and inquire of the Lord for me and for the remnant in Israel and Judah about what is written in this book that has been found.  Great is the Lord's anger that is poured out on us because our fathers have not kept the word of the Lord; they have not acted in accordance with all that is written in this book." 2 Chronicles 34:19-21

TV.  What's up?  It's like a dying fly in the living room blinds.  Loud, irritating, a dramatic wreck.  I was watching the Today Show before work.  Matt Lauer was talking about Brad and Jen and how to know if your spouse is having an "emotional affair," who's the most susceptible and what are the signs.  Oh snap, Brad pre-Jolie??  I'm seriously choking up now. I kept envisioning Matt disheveled and bloody in a day long stand-off, holding Katie and the whole crew hostage having snapped and mumbling over and over, "this isn't why I went to college, this isn't why I went to college..."  What a big bottomless trough of cancerous lard tv has become.  It's like going to a trendy restaraunt and being served used cigarette butts with holandaise on a bed of spinach leaves.  What is this?!  Why would you think you could serve me this?!  It is both fatally humerous and emotionally taxing.

Last week I rode with Jade to my hometown of Broken Arrow, Oklahoma.  Much to my discomfort it was much the same, only smaller.  I went to my old house.  It was now brown, the yard was fenced in and the scary field behind it had become the side view of a burgeoning subdivision.  The end of the alley way was now a street that narrowed in the distance.  I rang the doorbell and asked if I could look inside.  Everything was so small.  I saw some old friends.  They gave me the updates on what everyone was up to, which basically consisted of everyone having at least one child.  I've never seen a group of people so stuck.  I lived there but I was never stuck like that.  Not while I was there.  The town is no excuse.  But it's a strong influence, I would be remiss if I didn't admit that.  I drove down the streets I sometimes dream about.  I think I was hoping to purge some of my nightlife.  It took ten hours each way to get there and back.  Ten hours to confronting my past and back.  It never ceases to amaze me how the difference between me then and me now to come is a matter only of time. I still think about that trip a lot.

I don't know what to say, but I know I need to move on from what I prevously posted.  I actually posted something else a couple days following but wouldn't you know it got erased as I'd predicted.  Some smelly old maintenance error.  Treacherous was I, on the road that evening, for I was blind with rage.  Truth be told I don't feel like writing much these days.  Not as before.  I've been taking this Christian leadership class thing, for about a half dozen weeks.  As it slowly peels away layers of my brain I find myself evaluating my motives for doing this blog.  We talked about spiritual gifts some.  Turns out everyone has them.  I bought a ticket to Boston to see my friend Amanda.  We haven't seen each other since Florence.  It will make up for me missing the farewell at the train station.  I shall tell you a funny story about our various Italian escapades.  One day.  The day has gotten away from me as it is.  I'm definitely quitting my job.  Soon.  Definitely.  All these people keep quitting.  I know common sense, I know you can't hold out for stability.  They're not family, you know.  But I can't leave them in their current state.  Dear Lord, give me a sign.  My hair has grown.  I'm thinking about looking into getting myself a talk radio show.  I spent all of Tuesday at work thinking about it and so did no work.  Not really.  It sure got me through the day quick-like.  I'll probably get fired.  I'd rather resign in lieu of discharge if I had the choice.  Not forced, mind you.  And I wouldn't file.  There's no honor in that.  Honestly people, keep a sharp eye on your morals.  Grant the justice system a vacation.    4th of July was most unimpressive.  America.  Buncha wierdos.  I would like to find a guy so he can tickle me and I can play him jazz.  I had a thought about boys the other day, now what was it?  Something about how they write illegibly and it used to make me furious.  When I was little, I mean.  I should sleep.  Any single unfavorable condition awry could send my workday into a tizzy.  I went grocery shopping today.  I bought Smucker's peanut butter and honey and good, soft bread.  Good decisions like these should make me feel more confident than I am.  I'm working on being a better version of myself.  Or just figure out what's wrong, if anything.  I'm tired of the shadowy shit.  It's worthless and exhausting.  Perhaps if I was genuinely mysterious, if I fought crime by night it would work well, but I don't.  So it doesn't.  I got to train someone today, so that was cool.  He wasn't very enthused but I think he's just reeling from orientation which I happen to know is a tedium which surpasses hell.  Speaking of which, each moment I spend doing this and not sleeping is digging my grave.  I'm not good at farewells, there's no pleasant way to do this.

spic and span in my spahkly new shirt for $5.49 complete with an accent.  I'm thinkin' Bahston..."the claimant was dischahhged..."  this is what I do all day.  I know I know I said I was done but I've really found, not the cure, but the path.  It's a path, dummy, not a pill.  Although I must say...I went a little John Nash last time I immediately see.  I was in my shed with the hanging messages and a telephone...It's hard to flip channels and do this.  I'm glad they gave the kids from the Real World a job.  What are they now, 37?

Long story short God has gutted me like the fish.  How a cleansed colon must feel.  And I say finally because I can't imagine living that way again.  But then again there are people that lose and gain and lose and gain...what's that called again?  I've been known to go back to my vomit just as enamored.  Doubts are from hell. Okay!  So I get it.  God I take back everything I'm going to say.  Jesus is hott.

Big up to my man who sent me writhing in a bloodish robe on the couch Friday night.  You ask me how many buttons and I say seven.  My favorie number because there are two threes protecting the one, guardian of my other favorite numbers.  The month of my birth.  It's superstition, I know.  Anyway, yeah I always knew it was you.  I bet you like breakfast burritos.  You sexy fink.  I owe you a coke.

On Sunday night a part of me dies.  I don't know how much of me will be left once I get the courage to move on, if there is such a thing.  I dream I cast the devil out of Eminem.  While I'm awake I dream I hold a baby with a stronger right arm while he wriggles and warms and faces the world.  Or she.  These things make it hard to do claims.  Base period wages.  Oh, I'm sorry I can't be more profound at 1 am.  I love everyone!  Oh, that supercilious dimensia, its about time you lose momentum.  Dammit!  I'm not conveying this right.  I have a spirit of hospitality.  quiet is mire.  In, hih, bih, shuns.  This is my maiden name.

watch out, bitches.  i should've opened with this.

Today I was thinking about my disastrous first week in Italia.  Too, I was thinking that I didn't get to train anyone today.  No one knows I want to.  Then again no one knows anything about me.  I'm treated either with extreme caution or contempt.  Hardly any in between.  Consequently, the only people I'm able to befriend are the socially oblivious, who don't have much awareness of the outside world, or the self-absorbed, who need only a warm body.  Every once in awhile a miracle occurs and I meet a truly unbiased kindred or some freak with a high threshold for pain, and so cling to them.  And I'm fine with this arrangement, mostly.  People assume I'm heartless and so treat me accordingly.  I wish I knew why.  I have a very acute awareness of other people and I try to stay in control of how people see me and react to me.  By all accounts I should have a high success rate, and about half of the time it works.  The other half it goes to hell, and it almost seems deliberately thwarted.  I think it's God's way of hindering me from controlling every situation successfully, though this is what I've tried to do since birth.  He knows I could do it and does not want me to live in such a way.

Theoretically I know it's misguided but I just can't stop doing it.  True, it blows up in my face as I've explained, but I'd rather it do so at my own hand than unexpectedly.  There are times where I've been caught, juggling and behind this massive overheating contraption well after the jig is up.  "Pay no attention to the [wo]man behind the curtain."  These moments are truly excruciating because it becomes clear that I am desperate, a state which no one previously believed I could understand, yet I am all the time.  These moments only make me more and more determined.  To make a more intelligent, more impermeable mask.  I have yet to see the conflict of interest.  I have to keep people from thinking I'm weak, I have to keep people from thinking I'm the black bitch, I have to keep people from thinking I'm whiny, temperamental, inconsiderate, wrong, judgemental.  Unhealthy.  Did I mention weak?  Am I really these things?  I don't know.  But I could be.  I wouldn't want others to know that.  I wouldn't want me to know that.  I'm just trying to cover up the bad things.  How is this wrong?  I'm trying to help people!  Truly.  If people think I'm strong then they're better able to be friends with me.  If people think I'm really nice all the time they'll be pleasantly surprised and can feel good about themselves that they got to know a black person and can feel justified for the rest of their selfish lives, maybe even get to know more different kinds of people because of me.  If people think I'm easy going, thoughtful, mild mannered and wise, they'll respect me and feel more able to confide in me.  And they'll think I'm beautiful and they'll be glad they know me.

Naturally, I'm still waiting for my grand scheme to get off the ground.  But I defy you to talk me out of this.  If there's anything I've learned in all my years, it's that people don't really want to know me.  The bad things about me are weighty and dark, take up space and comprise that off of which I feed the most.  Take this post for example.  It's depressing, tactless, a little cry-for-help-ish, and dramatic.  And I've truly enjoyed posting it.  This is my mind.  Is there anything good about it?  It's truthful, and people like truth right?  Right.  The narrow, immediate kind.  So we're back to zero.  Any poor diluted optimist could spend a little time with me as their project but soon become nonplussed.  Any tough love enthusiast could Dr. Phil me but I would just hurl the harshness right back in heaping, unforgivable insults (did I mention I'm too proud?).  Everyone who's left is rolling their eyes in a full knowing that they have lives of their own to manage.  There's only one conclusion to be drawn:  the best thing I have going for me is I have an acute awareness of the people around me, and an unquenchable interest in masks.

I'll see your queer and raise you queer tattooed freak with children!

Name or Nick Name : Holly Hahn
Country or City you are from: : Columbus, Ohio
Your Age : 35
Your Gender : female
What did you come out as? : Queer
What other words would you use to describe yourself? : breeder?
How old were you when you first realised your identity? : 13
How old were you when you first told someone? : 15
Did you plan it? If so, how? : I didn't really tell anyone. I had kind of a secet life, I snuck into gay bars in Dayton and made out with girls but pretended I was straight in school and dated boys during the day. This lasted for years. I fell madly in love with my best girl friend and was devastated when she went to college and joined a convent. I was so devastated, I talked my longtime boyfriend into getting married at age 18, because I thought maybe that would cure me.
What made you choose that person to tell? : It didn't. I met another girl a few months later and realized I couldn't just pretend. It was very tough for me I think in part because, I couldn't reconcile my femme-ness with the dominant culture of flannel and mullets in Dayton Ohio at that time. I also knew I HAD to have children, and in 1992 being a lesbian meant I would never be a mother. Another problem I had mentally was the rigidity of lesbian sex at that time. The gold star, 'i.e. never been with a man, was highly prized and Ihad a hard time accepting the fact that really for me, sexually- well- I am just not picky. I enjoy sex with men occasionally, and I don't hate them. It's hard to imagine the taboos of the culture then. I still identify as lesbian, because I can never really love a man like that, and I prefer women but in 92 it was an all or nothing propostion.
Can you remember exactly what you said? : I called my mom, I was crying.  I told her I was leaving my husband of 3 months. I told her, I think...I might be gay...and my mom said
How did you feel? : I was so frightened of the words. So frightened of the commitment to 'ruining my life'.
What was the person’s reaction? : long pause.
What did they say? :
"No shit, Sherlock"
really, that's what she said.
I laughed/cried and said wtf?? You could have told ME!!
SHe was mad, kind of and said, well how in the hell would you have liked me to bring THAT up??
What was your relationship with the person like afterwards? : Fine. She refuses to call me a lesbian, or queer. She insists I am bi because I have had relations with a boy and have children to boot. Oh well.
What’s it like now? : Great, she's happy she had grandchildren and likes my girfriend now, so cool
If you’ve been outed unwillingly, who did it? : It's easy for me to 'pass; as straight, although I never try. I am very feminine, wear lipstick and have kids. I joke that the lipstick is my cloaking device. In reality I am very out, not just in social circles, but in the PTA, the neighborhood and in every aspect of my life.
This year I started working at a non profit and one of my very young co workers thought it would be cute to 'out' me to one our board members by asking to see a picture of my girlfriend on my laptop. The board members mostly don't know, not because it's a secret but because I just don't have much contact with them.
What happened? : We were siting around a table at a large fundraising event, just relaxing. I had my laptop with me and S. said, apropos of nothing, "Hey Holly, do you have any pictures of your girlfriend on your computer? I think we would all like to see a picture!"
What were peoples’ reactions? : Non-profit staff generally lives and dies by the board of directors; a few other staff members looked pretty horrifed but said nothing and just stared. The BOD member just looked at me- I said, SURE, I'd love to show you a picture! I found a picture on my laptop of my family- not only Jules and I, but a picture where all my tattoos were fully visible, and including my kids. HA. Take that chica. I'll see your queer and raise you queer tattooed freak with children!
I refuse to hide, from anyone. Ever.
If you’ve experienced homophobia etc, please give an example. : I did, I even had a gun pulled on me once at a gas station in Dayton Ohio. But I don't anymore. Patially because I live in a great community but I think partially because I refuse to see it, or hide in any way. I am visible, I volunteer in the schools, I bring my partner to events, I don't ever avoaid the subject. I refuse to be 'careful' Maybe there is whispering, but nobody has the guts to say anything to my face anymore
Since coming out how out are you at school? : all_out
Since coming out, how “out” are you at work? : all_out
Since coming out, how “out” are you with family? : all_out
Since coming out, how “out” are you with your friends? : all_out
What does being out mean to you? : It means never ever apologizing about who I am.
What differences, if any, did your cultural background make to your experience of coming out? :
What does the concept of the closet mean to you? : It means being afraid to live a complete life
What advice would you give someone wanting to come out? : Cmon out, the weather is fine :)
If you could do it all again, would you do it any differently? If so, how? : I did what I could at the time. I don't think I could have done anything differently

Someone I trusted and believed was my friend told me today she has been lying to me about something - the something being she has known for a while that I self-injure. Now how she found out is what bothers me, as I had confided in a friend at work who then told her husband (this is perfectly fine). Then her husband went on to tell a coworker at his work whose mother works with me (which is NOT fine). His coworker then goes on to tell her mother and this "mother" is my friend who has apparently been lying to me.

What on Earth would make this private fact about me become so interesting that you just have to keep on passing it along and along and along and along? Just hearing that they did this to me makes me feel rather freakish, of which I am absolutely not! I am not a freak, rather I cope in a different way that isn't as "socially acceptable".

I don't know why she lied to my face last week about not knowing about me hurting myself. Why couldn't she have just told me that she already knew? I mean, that is what someone else did after I brought up the subject with her --- instead, this friend had to openly deny it... which I don't understand. I'm not sure if I want to know why she lied because there is no excuse for lying about this after I came forward and told her I struggled with it.

Bottom line here: Don't lie to me and don't gossip about me, especially when it comes to self-injury. Grow yourself some scars and get over it!!

Comfort, please...

(die dinger heißen emo püppchen...ich bin zwar kein emo..aber ich mag die teile trotzdem)

- fett und hässlich zu sein- kleinkind allüren- beschränkt- ekliger freak- komsiches wesen in einer höhle sein- total unsozial- und so weiter undso fort

ich hatte mich heute aus neugier in einem Forum regestriert, erklärt das ich Anime-Fan bin, verrückt und gerne Rumalber, nich alles immer so Bierernst sehe....

Abgesehen davon das einige User tatsächlich glauben das ich Multiple Persöhnlichkeiten habe, Rtl2 gucke und ein Brillentragender fettklops bin der Schulmädchen nachstellt (*hust* mit 21 *lol*)
Gab es von anscheinenden Reinige Individualisten noch bemerkungen wie "freaks wie du.."[weiterlesen]
Mal ehrlich...wer von den Möchtegern Propheten hat jemals einen Hardcore Anime Fan gesehen? keiner weil wir in der öffentlichkeit genauso Normal auftreten wie jeder andere.

Autsch...sowas tut weh, Tolleranz undso...die einen hängen Tag ein Tag aus nur rum und saufen Bier, Kiffen und gehen nur auf Party's und außer ihrer Music haben sie keine wirklichen Beschäftigungen. Solche Leute meinen andere Beleidigen zu können O_o ... heilige Scheiße, Leute die sich als Indi-Rockig und total True halten sind die größten Laberbacken in Sachen vorurteilen die es gibt (ja das klingt nach einem Vorurteil...wer die Ironie findet darf sie behalten)
Ich behaupte nich das die da alle so drauf sind, oder das das wirklich Rocker/Metaller und Individualisten sind,aber einige haben kein Hirn. Wenn mir ein Hip-Hopper sagt er findet Rap Geil...dann sage ich ok..ich aber nich. Deshalb kritisiere ich die Person aber noch lange nich "schlabberhosen,sonderschüler,asiozial...etc.." weil ja net alle so sind.

Bei solch Intoleranten muss ich Kotzen, die wissen nichma was Sarkasmus ist. Und hey wir Anime Fans (überhaupt alle Sammler und Fans) sind selber schuld...wir könnten uns doch auch mal wirklich unserem Alter entsprechend benehmen so ab dem 18. lebensjahr wie ein 40 Jähriger der alten Schule. Selten so gelacht...naja lassen wir die Menschen mit dem begrenzten Horizont alleine, die sind alle so Individual das sie sich ihrem eigenen Spiegelbild gegenüber rechtfertigen müssen.

und was lernen wir daraus, Tolleranz ist ein Mythos, die Leute die am heftigsten Kritisieren haben keine Ahnung oder kennen nur Rtl2 Anime und wurden mal von älteren herren in Pokemon Kostümen misshandelt.

Ich wünsch euch noch einen schönen Tag, blablabla wem es nicht passt der geht halt woanders hin...
wer sich beschweren will schreibt einen Brief an sich selbst mit dem Abschluss "ich will immer das letzte wort haben, ich weiß nich worum es geht aber ich bin dagegen"