On Coming Out.

On Coming Out. I never really did it. I just evolved into this person that I am, and I felt like "coming out" was this whole additional burden placed on us "queers" to make it harder to be the people that we are. To make it harder to be honest with ourselves becasue there was this threshold that had to be broken. To make it harder to love the people that we want to love. Plus, it was hard in general, right? I guess it also made it more difficult becasue I wasn't going to "come out" as a lesbian. I refuse to remove myself from one rigid category only to place myself in another. I've dated/fallen in love with/had lovers who identified as male, female, trans...who gives a shit. Whatever happened to the magic of falling in love? I guess I felt I was being the bigger person by not being official about my sexuality (that whole, if I reject the categories then they don't apply to me/exist and/or have power over me). Today, I have found that this is not true for me. All of you who love me need to know that when you go to that stupid poll booth to vote on other peoples rights, which of course you will probably be asked to do sometime in your life, that I am one of those OTHER people. Think of me.
But not only of me, but of all of the others who feel as though they can't speak. This PostSecret postcard just did it for me today. I became angry and cried all over my toast this morning. So, if you didn't know, now you know. I suppose this was more of a service announcement...because I've been me for so long this doesn't really feel like that big of a deal. I suppose if you have questions, feel free to inquire. But, mostly, just remember when you have a say in who gets married and who doesn't and who gets to adopt children and who doesn't... that you now know "one of us."

I feel like Lacey Roop gets it right when she says (plus the Epoch bathroom wall), "Gender is a Universe." Listen to her piece entitled "Gender is a Universe" here: http://www.myspace.com/laceyroop

Love,
C

Revival of the Dinner Party

Photos courtesy of the lovely Amelia (http://vintagevivant.com/2010/06/01/nyc-pt-1/)
Amelia is one of my many friends who shares my love of food, enough so that we organized our entire May NYC trip around finding the best grubbin' the city had to offer.

Okay, so I know this is departing from what this blog is usually about (what is it usually about?), but if you know me at all, you know that I love food and drink. It is the one thing I refuse to skimp on money-wise and time-wise. I mean sometimes you do what you have to do, but I avoid cutting corners in this department as much as humanly possible. There is absolutely nothing that beats a well cooked meal, a nice glass of wine, and a book or some good company. Better yet, if it were raining or cold outdoors. SO, here we are, it is a Wednesday night and even though I worked all day in the library and completely exhausted myself, all I want to do is cook something delicious. I've realized, when it comes to my free time, all I ever want to do is create edible art projects.

Therefore, I have decided, that once a month (hopefully, from now until forever) I will be hosting fancy-ass dinner gatherings or brunches. I will be keeping them rather small and sending out personal invites, and all that I ask in return for the free food is that you bring your warm bodies and smiles and come ready to eat well, eat slowly, and talk a lot (a bottle of wine or a bag of coffee beans wouldn't hurt either, but is definitely not a requirement). There is something to be said about taking your time to eat and enjoy the company of other fine people...deep breath out...and not many people do it any more. IT IS REVIVAL TIME.

The first of these events is in the making. Also, I love you all, and eventually I will invite ALL OF YOU, but I am going to keep them tiny because: a) I can't afford to cook (well) for more than 10 people anymore, b) my home can only fit a small number of people comfortably seated around a table, c) I would like for there to be a type of atmosphere where everyone may be engaged in a singular conversation.

Beyond my deciding that there is not enough good food happening, I have been deciding on other things as well. I have bought a plane ticket to New Orleans for September 30th - October 3rd to visit my good friends John H. and Lauren B., both of whom are among the most wholesome and pleasant people to be around. Additionally, I finally have officially begun my honors thesis research under the lovely Professor Martha G. Newman. I will be exploring the lives of queer people within Islam; if you have friends, relatives, or acquaintances you would like to recommend I speak to, I would love this.

Writing this has thankfully caused me to decide against staying up for three more hours to make homemade cinnamon roll dough, but not to worry, I have plenty of other things I must finish. READINGS! BOOKS! ARTICLES! oh my!

tisbah ala khair ya habaabi,

C

when it gets rough, you just gotta get tough and/or have amazing friends

So, the week was "rough" to say the least. On top of having someone I admire, tell me I was a "disgrace to [my] discipline" and getting a stomach virus, while I was throwing up Tuesday afternoon I was the lucky recipient of an 'I just want to be friends...' text message. On top of feeling completely insulted, the following day I went to HEB where my car was vandalized. Unfortunately, this is not the first time that my car has been the victim of angry Zionist acting-out. The air was let out of my front two tires and my "Free Palestine, End the Occupation" sticker was mostly ripped off. By the time I got home, I was in desperate need of comfort and/or tequila. I cooked a decent dinner and then my beautiful wonderful friends and housemates came to the rescue. I was gifted many large cupcakes from Karl, hugged and loved by everyone, and then Ashley, Taylor, Jake, Dan and I went dancing! Barbarella 90s-ish music and crazy dancing sweating bike riding followed by a slumber party in Ashley's really warm yellow room and then morning smoothies. More biking. Hang-outs with Emma and Katie. And then good foods, home improvement, and Freaks and Geeks. CURED! by the wonderfulness of good company and biking/dancing. It really does work every time.

So, the lessons of this week are: bad things happen in 4's, not 3's, dancing is kind of a drug, and building things with your own two hands is the new best idea ever.

Big.

Sitting cross-legged on my big red couch, in my new home, at the beginning of this new year. Big breath in, big breath out. Big glass of wine, big full heart, big baggy pants and t-shirt, smile. If home is where the heart is, the biggest hunk of mine is here, and so here would be home. Besides endlessly studying for the GRE, I have been living well ever since work was over. I was working for the Arabic Flagship Program all summer. I love the women I worked with, the students (most, my friends), the faculty, etc. It made for a busy, but pleasant summer. But, now I can do fun summer things for a couple of days, which for me includes building some things, drinking wine, bike rides, sitting in book stores reading entire books, dancing until I look like I just went swimming, and enjoying some alone time. You can use alone time for all kinds of things, but usually I spend it compartmentalizing my other experiences, singing aloud to Paul Baribeau songs, or writing things down, or letters. If you ever want a letter, you should send me your address; I write often.
I will leave you with a bit of wisdom from P. Baribeau. His song, "Ten Things," is always a good tool for curing many of the more unlikable circumstances in life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1W81WkpUnY&feature=related

four wheels + feet = supaaaa speed!

I want nothing more than to roller skate today! So, roller skate I will. Pace and I began my cedar porch table project yesterday...it took a while to understand my new saw, but we figured it out. I want to work on it all the time, but it is hard to hold and cut wood alone, not to mention it is a trillion degrees outside and there is something about being covered in saw dust that doesn't make the heat more fun.

Pace and I also made delicious buckwheat pecan banana pancakes this morning and I drank a HUGE class of iced coffee that has my body tweaking out. Now, I am waiting for Karl to come over! KARL!!!!! I missed him. He has been traveling all summer, and I am so happy to have him home. More bike riding and gourmet meal cooking! AH HA!

Additionally, work for the Arabic Flagship Program is basically finished for the summer. My boss, and favorite person I work with, Chelsea, is moving on to a job at Maryland U. and I am pretty sad about it. I know that her new job will better complement her skills, as she is one of the most capable women I have ever met, but we will miss her greatly.

Also, I am getting antsy to dance! I think TuesGAYS and Barbarella has my name all over it this week. You can bet your bottom dollar I will be cutting a rug and sweating copious amounts, but I think this is the only way to do it right. But, Ashley A. will be out of town...I hope I can still have fun without her :(

Alright time to lean forward into the day.

"Leaning out as far as she can, hoping she'll fall soon, so she can stop worrying about whether it will happen or not." -Brian Andreas

dirty hands.

My hands are dirty from the last few days. Pumpkin spice cupcake making, basil planting, bike ride sweat and grease from a popped tire and a failed attempt to put on my new rack. Last night I had a glass of wine and listened to some mood tunes to slow my pulse and calm my nerves. The reason I have been keeping so busy is to put off unpacking anymore. Not that I do not really have an infinite amount of things to do, but last night, I uncovered notes from a deceased lover as I was trying to find new places for everything to go. It is like I am scared of my own stuff. Maybe that means I should get rid of a good amount of my "stuff," again.

Purging things is a relatively easy process for me when it comes to clothes, shoes, paints, food, tools, bags, trinkets, but when it comes to sentimental items like notes, gifts, books...I can't let go of them. If you have given me a book, a note, a painting or even a string in the last few years... I have it. The little "i love yous," come most honestly and simply in the form of hand painted and glittered pine cones, notes left in bike spokes, and hand-knitted leg warmers. Not that words are not beautiful magical things as well, but as cruel as memory is... small physical bits of lovely memories are a vice of mine. Sometimes years later, it is difficult to remember how an "i love you" from a particular person felt/smelled/tasted, and even if you never forget, you can rest assured that if you do, you can pick up that bit of tile and remember what an "i love you" on a rooftop in Yemen feels like. Or finger a little pressed bluebonnet that she placed in your hair the day she told you she loved you on the side of a highway (right after you made her stop becasue you had to go soooooo baaaaaddd you couldn't wait for the next town) so you never have to forget.

I keep things, becasue when I am old and I open that box of things I've moved around with forever, I can examine them with my wrinkled fingers and feel the rush of love, disappointment, lust, pain, friendship, loneliness, humility, humanity or humiliation that made up my life..just in case the memories of my life really don't flash before my eyes the moment right before I die. Just in case.

moving.

Very few of the many fond memories I will have of HoC:

I much prefer the word "moving" to "leaving," because they have significantly different meanings. Leaving implies that there is a negative reason you are moving from your current location, while moving seems to mean that either you are moving for the sake of change or for the sake of something exciting in the distance. Because, there is really hardly anything I dislike about the House of Commons, or any of the beautiful people I met while I lived there, it is time to move forwards. Honestly, I am always moving. When I think about it, the last 4 years I have lived many places: Jester Dorm, Salado House, Duval House, Eden House, Yemen, House of Commons, and now East 51st (i.e. "the love shack"). I hate staying still, and I am excited to experience a new living situation (with four of my favorite people). It will also be a nice environment in which to write my thesis, build/plant a new garden, dance, and cook (for less than 30 people at a time). I must admit, I am excited to have dairy and egg products back in the house. Cheese please.

Now, all I have to do is kick a whole bunch of ass on the GRE in 3 weeks, and all will be well. Not to mention, my last year of school begins on the 25th. Who am I kidding, if I get into grad. school, I'll be in school forever.

Also, I'm missing the Middle East a lot today. Especially, Yemen and Syria. I miss being constantly surprised and amazed, and also never wanting to sleep, but not because there was too much work, but because there was too much living to do, too much to see.

Ahhh, the suq.

Qat trees.

From Maxime's window in Damascus.

Evening coffee, nuts, sweets, and smokes at the garden cafe.

Ya salaam, kan gameel...