amulet

from the oxford english dictionary:
skull and crossbones: a picture of a skull with two thigh bones crossed below it, formerly used by pirates and now as a warning symbol.

pirate: without permission.

In recent months I have somehow acquired many things with the skull & crossbones on it, and I think it serves as a warning of mortality as well as a reminder of potential, as well as a warning to others.
An amulet. An object worn to ward off evil. But, what if the evil is within the wearer? There is evil inside. Not by my standards, but by those of others. I have been othered. I don't believe I am being expected to obey the same rules as everyone else. In my own mind, I am above the law.

I thought most of my actions sprung from my love of people and things. I love my friends and I love my cats, my zines, my green velvet pillow, my books, my record player. And I don't find much wrong with that, or expressing it. Warning: I do not find anything wrong with love. I don't find anything wrong with expressing that. If that means writing ten pages about my love for hello kitty merchandise, then hell, that is what it means. I am in love with life and this world, and that is why I react violently to threats made upon life and peace. Holding back is not what Kerris do best. I have been told never to play Poker, because my face exposes what I am feeling or thinking, and it is true. I used to be able to. I used to keep a lot of shit inside where it could hurt me. I am not about self-destruction. And I have resisted the urge to start smoking again. And I have resisted the urge to head out to a random diner to pick up a random guy, because men make for good distraction. Warning: I openly confess to using people in the somewhat distant past, and know I am quite capable of repeating this pattern. I do not ask permission for what I want. If I can not buy it, I can obtain it through other means. Bartering is one way. It is not the only way. When we desire something so much it keeps us up all night, we may devise ways of procuring it. Creative ways. When I wanted to go to graduate school, I filled out applications and begged & borrowed & spent so much of my money on this. I can't afford to go out to bars if I wanted to. I figure out ways to make things work. Warning: I am highly ambitious, motivated, and determined. I do not need to be granted permission. If there is a Code Red, I will not seek permission to leave my house. It is my right to be wherever I wish to be, and if that means putting myself in harm's way, so be it. I do not seek permission to speak my mind, because it is my right, whether the government sanctions it or not.

"I don't give a damn about my bad reputation"
I think living within safe boundaries only ensures that one be ordinary, and nothing more. When I was watching American Beauty last night, I realy focused on that part. "There is nothing worse than being ordinary." It is a great line, and while I can think of a few things worse than being ordinary, I think it is a generally true statement. I don't need to live by the rules and laws of others. I have been ostracized for this, and understand that it will [the ostracizing] continue to be a central part of my life, but I have no desire to sell out.

I wear the skull&crossbones at my work. It makes me feel like I can handle everything. It reminds me that there is something bigger than all of us. I do believe in god, but my conversations with him lately have been as I was falling asleep at three in the morning before having to get up at six, and I haven't been able to talk about much beyond wanting a continued preservation of my life. I have not even gotten around to asking for guidance. I should be demanding miracles. I should be demanding that teaching job, now. Everybody asks why I am only subbing. Even students think I'd be good teaching English, which is a surprising compliment, but puzzling at the same time. Why must I jump through hoops when it is clear that I am more than qualified to teach English to high schoolers? Warning: I can project my voice and I can send kids down better paths than they were traveling on. Warning: I will say exactly what I think about procedures and panic and rules.

Warning: I don't need permission to exist and I will not apologize.

House Arrest

Because I was not doing my homework, I had to put myself under house arrest for tonight, even though there was someplace I really wanted to go. Also, I am grounded tomorrow night too. I have a 25 page paper due Monday, and because of a million reasons (mostly hatred of subject and professor, partly being distracted by hotmail [explain that joke later]) I procrastinated like crazy. For the past two weeks, I had a whole 3 pages of it done. Tonight I wrote another 7, so I am up to 10. I decided to just babble throughout the paper. It is not academic, it is crapademic (as my brother would say). No, it wishes it were crapademic. Words you will find in this paper (since I must stick with my tradition of strangeness, but there is little context in this paper for these words. Mostly, I just hate this and decided that it is my own special way of giving the bird to a professor who is going to fail me because I lack her enthusiasm for the subject matter):
props, cunt, hymen, deflowering, construct.
Did I mention I have to read this paper out loud to the class? I'm hoping that it both pisses off the professor and gets D* riled up enough to interrupt with some lewd comments. Did I mention the other night I dropped the syllabus for this class on my bedroom floor? That's not the good part. The good part is that my cat was in my room, and of all things for her to piss on, she peed on that syllabus. I should tell the teacher, "Even my cat hates you."

About that Hotmail...in one of the classes D* was giving out his email address to someone and the girl looks at me, rolls her eyes, and goes "Let me guess, it's hot male". She had me laughing so hard I thought I was gonna cry. Well...I know, it isn't his fault he's the only good-looking guy in the room (other than the Harrison Ford-look alike professor). The funny thing is, his mail is hotmail.

article iou's for when i feel better

1. lockdown and codes
2. leave no child behind AKA make 13 kids suffer for the benefit of 7
3. propaganda
4. homo-hatred
5. analysis of things
6. refusing to conform to bullshit social rules AKA how to fuck up your life in ten different ways
7. deconstruction of the bill of rights
8. my cats
9. my inability to play puzzle games when i am upset. My inability to function when I am upset.
10. rumors, gossip, lies and hearsay

**anything else you want me to babble about, let me know.

babble

I am annoyed with non-direct people, and then I realize that lately I have also been one. I want all the exceptions in the world. But I get angry when I see people unable to make what are to me, simple decisions.

I should put this in some context. It's the whole situation with D*...and basically, it is like this. When I started to sort of hang around with him, he started to not flirt with me as openly in class. This whole week, he's been real quiet in class with me, talking a lot more to other people. My immediate reaction was a weird jealous "what the fuck".

I backed up a little.

I've gotten quieter too. Then I thought about this. He doesn't divulge much about his private life. I'm kind of the opposite. People ask, I tell them more than they ever wanted to know. I didn't know he was dating anyone this year until he told me they had broken up a few months ago. In this way, the quietness makes sense. I'm figuring things out. He is an outrageous goofy flirt...but that is just plain flirting. When serious things come up, he gets quiet and serious. I had been used to dealing with a certain type of guy for so long, and then there is D*, who is as different from anyone I know. I mean, he actually likes sports.

Probably, I should not be posting this in a public space. I don't think anyone cares though. Most people who find this blog seem to be looking for illicit sex or furniture. Luckily, there is nothing illegal about D*, and well, he has furniture, which is more than I got. I think of all the very good reasons he has to be reluctant. I don't think the army smiles upon their boys sleeping with anarchists. Not that I've slept with him...but I can dream.

So, he probably does not know what to make of me, just like I can't figure out what to think of him...and I do not think I made my point enough with him about commitment. He was saying/asking "You aren't ready for commitment yet?" and I think if I just said "yeah, that's right", it'd be disco, but instead I had to get into technicalities by saying "It's not that I'm not ready for committment, it's that I want nothing at all to do with it." And I don't. Not with him or anybody. I thought it was funny, that he would worry I was trying to rope him into something, when he knows every last detail about my life...and those details do not involve "going steady." Monogamy does not work for me. I don't desire waking up next to the same person everyday, to be greeted constantly with their bullshit, and then to inevitably, dump all my bullshit and baggage right back on them. I don't much mind waking up by myself, but once in awhile I change to that routine would be cool.

When I asked questions, I got answers. Admittedly, I was nervous as hell. Remember, I'd rank him right up there with John Travolta, Harrison Ford, and Pierce Brosnan in the looks department, even though he actually does not resemble any of them. I wanted to ask him what flavor crack he was smoking to invite me back to his place. I don't think he realized though that I wanted him like that until I called him a tease. (I swear to God, I have never called a guy a tease before. Look, you just don't put me alone with somebody like that, and then expect me to not rip his clothes off. I might have been less polite if I was not relying on him to drive me back to the school where my car was, since I had no fucking clue where I was in New Britain).

He was so quiet around me today. When I asked him questions, he'd answer. It's not like he was cold. It was like he was scared. That kind of bothered me. Maybe not scared...maybe nervous. He's been quick to bolt lately. My Stapler Girl noticed that too. He'd jump up before class and run over to the grinder place across the street, or he'd leave the room and then coming flying back in. I don't know if he's afraid I'll say something to embarass him. I don't know if my presence just makes him nervous and antsy, but I know it's me. I don't know what my boundaries are. I think he is a little self-conscious because a few people in our classes have asked if we were like boyfriend and girlfriend...and then yesterday at the end of class, the professor (who he is friends with) said "Thank you for listening, and for your comments, and for the interesting chemistry between students in the room" while staring at him. It is strange to think I could unnerve someone who should not be phased at all.

Enough analysis. He won't be around this weekend, so I will have no excuses to not do my paper.

luscious agony

I am not going to give every last detail of my night.
But I am smiling and not really wanting to sleep...oh, woot! I just remember tomorrow is a delayed opening at work!!! I can be up without guilt.

I sorta had a date, which was more like hanging out, which was more like torture for me. Maybe what I did was stupid, or maybe it was really smart...I can't figure it out. Risky, is more like it. In a way, it was good for me to push the limits...to see if I really could trust somebody. I don't mean emotional trust. I mean the kind of trust required when one goes to someone's apartment without letting anyone else know. And trust that I could handle myself if anything turned sour. I had my magical boots on, and never had to use them.

This is not about self-defense. This is about me trying to get a piece of ass. A fine piece of ass.

Oscar

When I was a first-year in undergrad, I met this boy named Oscar. I had a huge crush on him, but was afraid to say anything because I assumed he'd think that I was just a dumb white girl. He was a little on the fruity side and talked a mile a minute, like Six did on Blossom. It was hilarious to listen to us talking because then I'd start talking faster, and between his spanglish and speed, and my speed and giggling, it must have sounded like we were literally on speed. He was from Hartford, and before that, Puerto Rico. He was geeky and would always hang out with the girls, whereas I would always hang out with the boys. One day he REFUSED to let the other girls on my floor (and it was all girls on that floor, so he was kind of conquering our space) have the tv to watch a Yankees game because he wanted to watch a VH1 Behind the Music that was all about Madonna. I found out later that semester that he liked me too. By then I had decided to hang around with this dirty punk who showered like once a semester and had a huge record collection.

I don't care about the Oscars. But I cared a lot about a Oscar.

Mock Lock

I am probably not supposed to talk about lockdown procedures. I am probably not supposed to discuss anything. We had a play lockdown at work today. The event in itself was no big deal, but the rumors I hear around it are. I heard, from the students, that teachers told them the timing of the drill had nothing to do with the war. The impression I was given was that the drill had everything to do with this, since there is a new procedure added if it is a statewide code red lockdown. I found out that I am permitted to physically restrain students from leaving the classroom in a real lockdown scenario. This makes me uneasy. . . because I can put myself in the kids' shoes. I would not want anyone laying a finger on me if I chose to flee the room. While I personally have no qualms about taking someone down or holding them back (in a physical sense. this does not make me nervous. i'm the first to intervene in fights and whatnot), I don't think it is necessarily right, unless we're talking child (under 12) or a student who has some kind of disability. Yes, I would make sure a 6 year old didn't leave, but their mindset is different from a 17 yr old. You have to wonder which is worse-- being a sitting duck waiting in a corner of a room for a "potential threat," or running away possibly facing danger, possibly facing freedom. Like I said, I tend to get in the middle of things, and can easily see myself getting out there trying to take down somebody with a gun because 1) maybe I'm crazy like that 2) it wouldn't be the first time I've encountered violence or firearms, and 3)sometimes if you wait for the police or someone else to intervene, it is too late. I don't know what I am trying to say here. This is all speculation since I have never been out in such a situation before where I had to simultaneously protect others and protect myself.