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Devil Figurines

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Work went okay; did the prototyping for the store and finished up the design changes on flat files.
Went looking for devil figurines today at lunch and after work; didn’t find any. I did go into a 80% off booksale in Castleton, ran into M., and ended up buying 3 books that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise.
Came home, watched a Friends episode I missed, a Charmed episode I missed, and updated the gayindy.org calendar. Started reading one of the books I bought – Ms. Behavior’s Guide to Gay and Lesbian Etiquette.
Boring day.

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Weekend Update 2000-07-05

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Friday – Tuesday were the long Independence Day weekend. It was pretty boring because I forgot to make plans ahead of time, and of course everyone had something to do but me. I read most of the time.
Friday I went to the Fashion mall and bought $52 worth of Aveda shampoo/conditioner/body wash, etc. A lot to spend, but it’s huge bottles and It all smells the same and is better quality stuff. Then I went to see Up At The Villa in Castleton. Not a bad little movie, but pretty slow paced. I guess it’s from a Somerset Maugham novel.
Saturday I went to Future Shock and bought two pairs of shoes; these wicked cool black leather pair with flames on them and a pair of Old Skool Vans. I wore the flame ones to Dan and Doug’s and they didn’t know what to think, obviously, so I guess they’re pretty over the top. But they’re cool and I like them and that’s all that counts. There were a bunch more pairs of shoes I want there, too, so I’ll be going back.
Sunday I went to The Abbey and had a nice Pesto chicken sandwich and iced coffee and hung out and wrote some quite extensive oulines/character studies on the regency novel. I got a lot done, then went to Target and Borders, where I found that five of the Georgette Heyer novels have been reprinted, so I bought four of them, along with Timelines in History, so I can figure out what books/events my characters would have been interested in.
I finished the prototyping I was working on on Friday, and then we reworked the basic site design for regeneration this week. It looks a lot cleaner and cooler, so that’s pretty cool.
Came home to find that Mary had a roofer come in to look at the leaky ceiling. I guess he resealed the roof but will be coming back in the next two weeks to redo the entire roof, which is a good thing, I guess, but I’ll be on pins and needles till then, since I’ll have to keep Idgie away from them, and since there will be strangers in my apt. I’ll have to walk around and put stuff away.

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What do you want to be when you grow up?

I remember when I was a little kid, I read a book about Camelot and King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table–and because I was reading pretty far above my age level, I understood what I read, but I didn’t understand the context of it… meaning I didn’t really have a concept of history and timelines and things that happened in the past versus things that were happening presently.

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Questions from my sister

Pontification requested:
1. Is there really good and bad/black and white/ right and wrong in the world, or is everything in shades of grey/gray? (deeds, not people. People would be a whole different discussion)
2. Jealousy: Your thoughts?
Brief update: not yet married. Kittens are healthy. Hair is short.
Thoughts from the pontiff:
1. Ranges from dark, dark greys to very light greys.
2. When I am jealous, it is an indication that:
a) I care deeply about the relationship I’m in.
b) I have an instinctive feeling that someone’s motives aren’t trustworthy. Usually it isn’t the person that I’m involved with, but rather the person who seems to be intruding into the relationship that I feel isn’t trustworthy. In retrospect, my instinct was correct 100% of the time; those persons were indeed trying to intrude.
In these situations, the response I expect from the person that I’m in a relationship is: “I respect your instincts. Therefore, I will tell [intrusive person] to bugger off.” I’ve gotten that response from my partner only once.
Steph

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I want to be Batgirl

I miss making out. Not that I don’t do it anymore, but not the way I used to. I mean that I miss kissing that’s unaccompanied by sex, or thoughts of sex, or thoughts of a relationship, or thoughts of anything other than just — making out.

That’s the best part of being a teenager – you can kiss without having to worry about all the stuff that comes after. I guess that’s not true anymore, really, is it? But it was when I was a teenager.

You know that kiss that isn’t going anywhere, but might? Unhurried, undistracted. “Long, slow deep wet kisses that last three days.” You know that line had to come from a movie, because no actual man ever said that and meant it as anything other than a pick-up line.

That kiss where you know your partner’s tongue as well as you know your own? The kind that starts our a little frantic and then you get each other’s rythym and eventually you almost feel like the same person, until you realize your foot fell asleep and you really need to move?

I imagine myself kissing women all the time.
I wanted to be Batgirl. I wanted to kiss Wonder Woman.
I wanted to be Dorothy. I wanted to kiss Glinda.
I want to be Buffy Summers. I want to kiss Willow.
I want to be Gillian Anderson. I want to kiss Jodie Foster.
I really want to kiss Holly Marie Coombs, but if I were Holly Marie Coombs, I’d want to kiss Shannen Dorhety.

Gina Gershon has me all twisted up in knots. I want to kiss her and be her at the same time.

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My Family Christmas Letter – 1999

My cousin Sarah wrote her family’s Christmas letter this year, which I just got in the mail. If I’d written the Christmas letter for my family, it probably would have gone something like this:

This year was pretty amazing for the Mineart family — no one flunked out of school, or got thrown in jail, divorced or held up at gunpoint. Stacy found a dead guy on her doorstep one morning when leaving for school, but it turned out he was a resident in her building and he just died of old age, so it was all okay.

In addition, practically everyone in the family who isn’t already married got engaged in the past year, which just goes to prove two things: we can be a charming bunch when we have to be, and there’s a sucker born every minute.

No one went broke this year, and as usual, Dad made a big pile of cash, but there’s nothing new about that. He bought ANOTHER Corvette, which I think is just about enough for any one guy. I mean really, you can only drive one car at a time. (Kidding, Dad.) Stacy and Scott both finally graduated from college, and Riley went to kindergarten that was set up by Ivy Kids Franchise, which means, folks, that we are getting OLD.

Mom got a big dog and an invisible fence, and Todd and Denise got a second cat. My fish died.

I think Dad and Carol went to Australia, because I got this cool aboriginal art thingy for Christmas, and all the boys got boomerangs. I’ll bet it was a swell trip.

Stacy went to England for about the bajillionth time, but this time is different because she actually conned them into letting her stay there permanently by getting engaged to Roger. Those English don’t know what they’re in for. Then Stacy ruined the whole thing by actually giving us her address and telephone number, which means we can go over and visit her, which defeats the purpose of her leaving the country to get the heck away from us.

My only trip this year was to Chicago, but I had fun and I did get to see all those cows on the Miracle Mile.

Paul ran in the mini-marathon, and Gary’s still swimming. I actually played volleyball all summer. Seriously, I did.

I worked on my webpage constantly, but Scott hasn’t touched his in ages, and I’m thinking of turning it in to the “Cobweb Sites of the Month” website and see if it wins an award. Dude, get to work.

Nobody was in any musicals or anything, but that’s probably good, because I’m the only one who can carry a tune, and that’s after years of practice.

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Gay Indy Mailing List

On the bright side – I saw two movies this past weekend – Dogma and Run Lola Run. Both were good.

On the dark side – It surprises me sometimes what other people find to be important. I say this because I’m on the GayIndy mailing list, and it’s kind of a joke. The mailing list, I mean, not the fact that I’m on it.

The list has been shut down for a week or so because of controversy — and as soon as it started back up again, everyone’s posting information to it as though nothing has happened.

The controversy was about some of the gay groups in Indianapolis and how they don’t give information to the community about how they spend money or what their goals are or what they plan to accomplish or whether they’ve met any of their goals, etc. Which wouldn’t be a big deal except that they get on the news and talk to public officials claiming that they’re “community leaders” and that they represent people like me.

One of the people raising these questions was me, and one was Bruce Seybert, a publisher of one of the gay magazines in town. After the debate started heating up, someone started to get on the mailing list with an anonymous email address from yahoo and post libelous insults about Bruce.

That’s why they shut down the list; because of the unhealthy tone people were unsubscribing. But the questions raised have never been answered, and it looks as though they never will, because people are posting frivolous information to it.

I despair of Indianapolis sometimes. I think I’m going home to read some poetry.

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What is Wrong with Being Single?

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I’m twenty-nine years old, and I’ve been single for three years. And the truth is that I’m happy about that. I just came to that epiphany today while I was doing my dishes, alone in my apartment with the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack playing on my stereo in the background. I don’t want to be single forever, but I am comfortable being single right now, and want to stop feeling anxious about my single status.

Sanctuary

I’m comfortably in a rut, as my friends would probably describe it, going to work during the week and spending my weekend alone writing, and reading to my heart’s content. I really like the way I live. My apartment is uniquely my own, and a sanctuary to me, filled with the things I love.

Everything is in it’s place, and I know where everything is. It’s not organized to the point of obsession, and I need to learn to put things away immediately after I used them, but I’m happy. I clean when I like, and leave things a mess when I like. If I had a girlfriend, all that would change, and I admit that bothers me.

I cook for one, which means I make a side dish rather than a meal, or get something from take out. In fact, I think I’ve lost all of my cooking skills in the past few years. I grew up as the oldest girl in a family of eight, and I used to come home from school, prepare the family meal, set the table, and clean up while everyone else trooped into the living room to watch TV. I’m sure my resentment of that responsibility has contributed to my cooking patterns now. But the fact remains that I once could cook a Thanksgiving dinner, and now when face with a simple meal, I’m at a loss. And I don’t mind that at all.

My Family Background

I think the reason I value my time alone so much, that I fiercely guard it, is because I grew up in a house where I was never alone. I shared a room with my little sister and a house with four brothers. There was noise all the time, everywhere.

I learned really bad communications skills that I still need to work to undo: the sense that no one was listening to me gave me the habit of repeating myself over and over, as well as the habit of interrupting and speaking louder when trying to make a point. I’ve lost some of those habits from living in the real world, but I still fall back on them at times.

I had no privacy growing up unless I was in the bathroom, and that only lasted until someone started pounding on the door to get in. Now, I love nothing more than lighting candles all around my apartment and sitting in relative quiet with my thoughts, especially after I’ve interacted all week with people at work.

All My Coupled Friends

Up until this point, I’ve been fearing there’s something wrong with me for not pursuing a relationship strenuously, for not making it a priority in my life. And my friends have certainly reinforced my fears.

My friend P., who has known me for about six years, I think, was grilling me on this subject in the bar a few months ago. She had just broken up with her girlfriend of many years, and confessed to me that the two of them had been analyzing me in their spare time, trying to figure out why I was single. "You’re attractive, humorous and you have a decent personality…"

Of course, this analysis immediately made me self-conscious, and rather than defending my comfortable lifestyle, I immediately focused on the word "decent," questioning whether she was suggesting there was something wrong with my personality, and suddenly filling with a self-doubt that I never feel when I’m alone; only with my friends.

It doesn’t help that I made a ton of new friends this past summer, who at that time were single, but quickly paired up when winter came. I used to get phone calls to run around and do something every day. Now I’m lucky if I see my friends once a week. And when I do, the awkwardness of the triad is always the elephant in the room that no one wants to talk about.

I’ve become a single burden to my coupled friends, and as a result, they either avoid spending time with me, or try endlessly to set me up with someone else. In fact, the last relationship I was in three-years ago was with a woman my friend P. set me up with. And I’ve been tricked into every conceivable setup situation since, so that I’m suspicious whenever someone’s single friends are around.

Continue ReadingWhat is Wrong with Being Single?

Adventures in a Chevy Chevette 2

I picked up my car this afternoon. It’s a 1987 Chevy Chevette, dark blue, and it’s falling apart. I had to have the alternator replaced, $141.69. This is the second time it’s been in the shop recently; two weeks ago, I just got it back after having the starter and flywheel (what the hell’s that?) fixed to the tune of $517.

Retro CarI’m feeling a bit disturbed by this; have been for awhile. I want to buy a new car, but I keep spending my savings on keeping this one running.

In Indianapolis, you have to have a car; public transportation is only for people who are seriously poor. There is only a bus system and it doesn’t run everywhere, all the time. Catching a bus is time-consuming and difficult.

If I wanted to catch the bus to work, I’d have to get up three hours earlier than I normally do, walk six blocks to the correct bustop (in the dark), and catch the bus north for a two hour bus trip. The bus will only go as far as 96th and Meridian, so I would have to walk six more blocks to 103rd, where I work.

It’s amazing to me how much not having my car affects my sense of identity. I feel helpless without a car, and less than a person. Which is, in this city, how you are meant to feel. In a country and a city where the car is king, if you don’t have one, there’s something wrong.

Which really makes me want to move.

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