Life is complicated

Yesterday I went to “work” because out of town people were still here and I really wanted to hang out more and get to know them in person more, before they scatter to the winds, AIM, and IRC. There was going to be game playing, but they had all been up till 4am and so were sluggishly computerbating en masse. I did learn how to tear a phone book in half and played a quick game or 2 of ice towers. I also fiddled around on paper with some reorganization of ideas for the “work” web page which I’m dying to put into practice, even if only roughly at first.

Then home a bit where I seemed to dive back into working, to some extent… I don’t even remember what I did… I made Moomin some food and we all had lunch. A short breathing space. Not enough.

& off to the tea party but first went to meet B. at a cafe. yeah that cafe. i like it… what can I say… must i apologize? The coffee’s good and I like it that i run into a million people i know there. Which I did… saw Irina and her friend Erin…. and ran into Caraja who was looking angelic and ethereal in her outfit for wwd. She gets very tense and buzzed up beforehand and works on her stuff for it even more and writes way more for it so I didn’t want to interrupt her – we hung out quietly – I know what that feeling is like and I get it too before performing for anything – i only do well if I can isolate a bit and get that sense of focus and concentration. Then B came and we geeked out a tiny bit and had coffee but a_ I didn’t want to distract Caraja and b) I was embarrassed to have whatever serious conversation was going to happen, in front of her. So as we left B said that the conversation was a bad one and she had done something shitty. Eep…I braced myself for something horrible such as “fuck off, I’ve reached my limit, and the shitty thing i’ve done is to say in the first place i was okay with this.” But no. Instead she had read a bunch of my emails with X. Well that was depressing and made me feel sort of over-drama-ed, and yet I could also understand it, and mainly I could see that she was in a state, from having done it — that she was very miserable. And feeling guilty and bad about herself. b/c of past trust issues she, well… I’m sure everyone can grok why one would… I used to feel very fierce about my paper journals and that I would instantly break up with anyone who violated that. It’s funny but I don’t feel that way any more, I think because I have less that’s private and more that’s out there. But I still need that privacy. Honest to god, without going back to look, I can’t remember what I had written anyway. And was more immediately concerned with, whatever it was that was written, did it fatally upset/violate/ruin anything or was there any boundary crossed or lie exposed and apparently there was not. So that’s good to have clear, I guess. And perhaps the foolish quality of the emails moved B to the extremes of pity because she was like “OMG… you know… those boundaries? Um nevermind.” I was glad about that but still a bit freaked out. I think we were both moved by mutual compassion for each other’s human idiocy. That’s all for the good… Compassion is important… So is being able to be idiotic. (Insert Kirk-like speech about how compassion and idiocy are what makes us Human.) (I find that I do feel different and strange… and like there had been a nice island going on that is no longer private. And I had liked it. So am sad and unsure how i feel now, which I didn’t expect. ) Then we talked a whole bunch and I learned a bunch of her side of various things and issues and background and xyzzy’s background which was unbelievably fascinating and a little appalling and made me think about who I tend to like and particular patterns. Probably I’ll say more about this later but our conversation delved heavily into class and privilege and the good and bad and resentful and lovely results it can have. We also talked about various poly issues like nre and feeling like the boring partner at home and I talked about how then, if the nre-infested partner is nice to you, you feel like it’s sort of false or suspicious or out of pity or masking or a smokescreen. But, ideally, it is not. Now for example xyzzy the other day was like, “omg you’re coming over i must go clean the bathroom” in partial sarcasm at the partial seriousness. “Well then, better clean it just enough, but not too much so as not to look as if you did it specially for me, you ass.” Xyzzy is the sort of lovely quick person who understood that even before I said it and even as he said what he said. And of course that is appalling because even the tiny seed of feeling like one might be about to want to clean the bathroom extra for one’s new crush is guilt-inducing because obviously one SHOULD lovingly clean the bathroom and primp and do some extra bathing, or whatever whorish things one does, for one’s actual partner who lives there, to impress them, and this leads to the realization of one’s mistakes and idiocy and ability and desire to fix that. So ideally the result of that tiny seed of guilt is that one converts it by internal alchemy into realizing that one actually should, and does, and will, clean the bathroom extra for THEM and that that is actually an important part of love and partnership. So that is part of the cool thing about being poly – you have moments where you realize things like that. Right??? Or, one feels it and then acts even more guilty or (if me) defiantly anti-guilty. (One of my many failings.)

I feel complicated, and part of how I work that out is by writing this junk and so… there. I hope that was all sufficiently cryptic for everyone. I bet if I ran an analysis of this blog, paragraph length would correlate with heinousness of content.

The tea party was for yarnivore. Oh how awesome she is. I have a strong feeling we could have stayed up all night babbling (sort of like how I feel about elswhere, and … well lots of other people really… ) And I flirted very heinously with many people and sort of couldn’t help it. I was a little bit hyper and giggly from coffee, exhaustion, and general tension. Yes… when slightly freaked out, I get *perkier*… it’s weird. Vito_excalibur was there! And she’s one of my favorite people ever! She told me to read: blindsight by peter watts and what passing bells – fanfic sequel to A Deeper Season by lightgetsin on LJ. Will link and will do. I tried to persuade her to read Gormglaith and we talked about the Naomi Novik books. As usual, I admired her eyelashes in a swoony secret way. This other dude P. that I met at othermag things and who is writing (wrote?) his dissertation on taxes paying for copyright use (or whatever the real term for that is) told me to watch a video about writing process and computeryness which I tagged on delicious… which looked interesting but potentially like it would piss me off over the moon and require much critiquing and ranting, so, we’ll see. Then I flirted some more, because when I start flirting and people flirt back and I like them, that’s what happens. And described some crazy ideas to G. who was like “I could make that!” Also he liked my ideas on fictional characters and could see the beauty of surfing other people’s rpg characters and how the secret half-elf furry bards of the world would all find each other and go off to their own very specific conventions and find true love.

Then off to wwd where we had a fabulous time and I met my uncle who i haven’t seen in a long long time. We grew up together and are about the same age and when I was little I totally looked up to him. We would play spies and car demolition derbies and would battle the tide with our intense sand-castling, and I read his countless Alistair Mclain books… like “Ice Station Zebra”. I liked how at lunch today he said that his frantic sand castle building and hard work on a pointless effort against an implacable enemy was the story of his whole life and sort of formed his personality. I met his wife for the first time; she is a bit shy b/c of language barrier i think, and is a fashion designer from colombia. They might move here if my uncle manages to close this deal (going deeply into debt) to buy this other dude’s music teaching studio. (He’s a guitar teacher and an amazing musician.) The other nice thing hanging out w/ him was the general sense of family sense of humor and a thing which I would characterize as arty transgressiveness and maybe a slight tendency to be insane, which comes out in all of us except my dad in varying degrees. (Family lore has it that the H*insons are the nice, sane side. And the Hemulen side has this shifty criminal artistic wild taint to it. This sort of genetic theory is bullshit but that’s how it goes in the story. You know how families have an “identified patient” or scapegoat in psych jargon? OUrs has an “identified sane person” instead and is completely opposite.) I was feeling even more tense about suddenly outing myself even further to my uncle (as poly etc) and about the completely over the top all-sex-all-the-time content of wwd this month and his ability and his wife’s to deal with that. They seemed amused yet overwhelmed. Then they really wanted to come along for the ride for the rest of the evening. Which was a taqueria for quick food and then a whiskey tasting party which was incredible… C. and F.’s huge floormat polar bear shaggy drooling newfie dog… whoa amazing… i’ve never seen a dog that huge and snuffalupagusy, but i liked it more than i liked most dogs. It was such a huge calm beast. Maybe they feed it tranquilizers in the 20 lbs of raw meat it must eat per day. I tasted a whiskey that was like licking a campfire or accidental cigarette ash, and it was strangely good. Then a sweeter flowery-er one. The names are lost to me. A. and I had a funny conversation about our poly blob and how it had just solidified in some very odd universe-contracting way and how possibly our blob now kicks the ass of the Muffy-blob of the south bay. I did not know we were in blobular competition but now realize a) we need a cult leader; A. can be the power behind the throne and cp can be our figurehead b) there are pieces missing in the puzzle and someone has a duty to fill them; we decreed who had to do that puzzle-connecting and who was nebulously connected and had to be knit tighter in. I love this sort of completely awful and funny conversation… Really, there will never be a blob but there is certainly an interesting and ever shifting cloud or network. I went out to the porch to do a little bit of connecting and much-needed brain-dumping with xyzzy… Later as I was leaving I felt a surge of knowing just where Caraja’s head was at and a palpable wave of how bad she needed to be home in her pajamas coming down from the performance high and whiskey imbibing and we hugged and promised some movie-watching later this week. I really like knowing people that well and the moments when I realize where they’re at and how far it is from particular appearances or impressions other people have of where they’re at.

Today, work in morning, catching up, blogging a bit (here in draft form) and emailing and looking at all the things i need to do. There are a lot, and I’m behind. end of Feb. I have a 1.5 hour blogging class to teach and must make a handout, and I want it to be good. And also end of feb. a lecture on translation stuff which I’d like to do well on and not pull out of my ass. I feel that “work” is going to eat my life completely because it’s interesting and absorbing and there’s a ton to do that I won’t be able to stop doing or thinking about… crap… (but it’s good.) So am panicked a bit about the other projects. The translation zine re-print is going to have to be pushed back to april and i have to tell the guest editor that asap. i need also to prep with “Layne” for sxsw in early mid march. there was another grant deadline but that might fall by the wayside…. And there is working for src which was nice but also… uncertain. one day or evening a month maybe… I am behind in all my ‘official’ blogging and will have to think on what to cut, which is upsetting but has to happen. (I could like, blog once a month everywhere still, but … that is probably not the thing to do.)

Then we went to the city to meet Minnie & Vim and my uncle & his wife and walked around the Haight, had lunch, & went to the beach. We talked to a kite buggy dude… and Moomin drew a road in the sand that went to the edge of the world AND BEYOND.

I just spent hours ignoring Moomin and working on stuff for my class. It turned out to be really the next 3 classes or maybe 4 because I kept changing my mind about what I was doing in what order. UGH. I lost the thread a bit of the class’s arc. I will hope now not that they all pass the class but that they all improve visibly. And i hope anyone who works and improves will pass. I have assigned and graded stuff every single class. And as I build a picture of what they can do and still aren’t getting, I’m trying to figure out how to teach what is missing and it’s super hard because they are all missing different pieces. At this point I want to pause and look back at each one of them, one by one, and tell them “YOU need to read chapter 2. And YOU need to go study comma splices and brainstorming. And YOU over here, you need to practice extracting what the main topic of something is.” That would be possible but would take me ages and ages to do properly. I’m worried. Also I’m worried that I’m not slow and coherent enough.

Trust me that this brain dump is more than necessary despite the hour and a half it took me to write and all the things i have to do. Plus, we have to entertain Iris, who lives to decrpyt this sort of thing and to write me back 20 page letters with instructive stories about her own life and stunning snarky insights about mine.

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