so....
got a new tiny pc.
named it TINYBOOK.
i love it.
going to take it everywhere and write my heart out.
i miss writing and reading.
so...
here's to a new pc buddy,
and some new musings on the way.
i was not dropped into this forest by aliens
part one
have you ever had a moment where you feel the whole of your being kinda of tingle...but in a bad way. like your very soul is resonnating with the discord that you feel around you and in you.
i have had this feeling a few times. some stronger than others.
sunday, up and at em at 7:10, i had hit snooze a few times cause i had been up until after midnight the night before. i chilled with my friend jan. to us chillin is just being in the same room, not talking much, listening to music and doing our own things. she played video games, i worked on ads for and upcoming program for amasong. in those moments my soul resonated serenely, quietly, a quiet little hum of contentment.
my partner anne had left to spend the night at her sisters with her nieces. she asked me if i wanted to come the following day to listen to her and her sister sing at church. of course i did! any chance to hear her sing and especially with her sister. i knew it was bound to be beautiful, and not something that i would ever want to miss. (plus, i was hoping it meant i got to see the girls.)
so i was up now...getting ready...i had picked out my clothes the night before. black dress pants, very nice red dress shirt, black tie. i was fussing about the pants being tight in the wrong places. jan said i looked handsome. i was nervous because in the back of my expanse of a brain i knew that something was already being strummed out of tune.
off i went, or off we went, i should say. i dropped jan off at her house and then hit sonics for a coffee. the drive to the gillman exit was uneventful, i sang and sang and sang. i turned left from that exit, drove nearly 30 miles in the wrong direction, turned around in some place called forest and sped all the way back to watseka. miscommunication between me and the mrs.
needless to say by the time i got to the church, i was a bit frazzled. i parked and watched a couple people go in an out a side door of the church. i gauged the people traffic and decided to take my tie off. i already knew it would go far beyond their level of understanding. i got out of my car and lint rolled my pants and shirt. lots of people were wearing jeans...argh! i was told that i shouldn't just in case. and now...i am walking toward the side door wondering if when i go in i will find the sanctuary. NOPE. it is a massive church, methodist and monolithic.
i step into heat...not warmth. people just stared at me and walked right by me. i think by my face it was obvious that i was lost. i wandered upstairs...lots of people, not a single one offered a welcome or hello or can i help you...
finally i just walked into a little room where there were grown ups and said "could someone please tell me were the heck the sanctuary is?" and yes, i was a bit irritated. i felt trapped and on display. the lady said with that stacatto rhythm we all know as hesitation, "i. am. going...down. there. now....you could follow me?" and yes it was phrased as a question.
i said thank you with true sincerity. because i knew once i got to the sanctuary, i would find my real sanctuary with anne.
not ONE single greeter at the front of the church( and there were plenty) said hi, how are you, what's up, kiss my ass...nothing. but it was ok because i saw her. i walked to her, that shinning beautiful beacon. and finally standing next to her my feeling of discord lessened. i am certain that hers rose.
the pastor came and shook amy and anne's hand. welcomed anne to the church, he looked at me and turned away. not a word. i was on fire inside. then church started and i heard him speaking. the words meant nothing to me. he reminded me of a pastor i had known before.
then i felt the pin pricks in my back and the side of my head...the staring little eyes from across the aisle. i ignored them all. i mean i mentioned to anne that people were staring, but i didn't stare back.
anne and amy sang beautifully. truly. i am envious of their ability to harmonize so well. and while they sang i felt like i belonged. i didn't pay attention to the sermon, i couldn't. i wrote notes to anne and kept myself preoccupied by drawing lil pictures. but every time we sang, i sang with pride, and the music was my solace. i knew all the songs, some better than others, they totally ruined joyful joyful by making the last note on several lines end in an 8th note, it was horrible.
but i still sang it with joy. i kept wishing that the piano player would just bust it out like they do in Sister Act 2, and that i could release some serious soul into that lifeless church. but alas...
anne held my hand during parts of the sermon. considering my "welcoming" reception, i was prepared to be stared into submission or have the pew below me burst into a firery seat of flames.
i survived. not a single singe on me. but i was a bit wounded. no one said thanks for coming, i felt like they looked at me like i was a growth on anne's side. a gigantic mole that you can't help but stare at, and wish you could remove. but by the time i got to my car, the wound was beginning to heal and more scar tissue was building.
i have never had a sense of entitlement...like lots of young dykes do.
i never had that chip on my shoulder that made me what to be so distinct from the straight world. i have never wanted to be radical or mean. i could sit there in that bigotry hold my identity with pride and leave with dignity. just me going was an eye opener for them i hope. they may have thought they saw an alien, but i was born here just the same.
part two
i sing in a lesbian/feminist chorus, called Amasong. before i joined i had a conversation with a very wise woman named Jane. i told her i felt the name. Amasong: Champaign-Urbanan's Premier Lesbian/Feminist Chorus was silly and seemingly not necessary. It seemed to me that if you are a lesbian that 99% of the time if not 100, you are a feminist. And really wasn't this whole group really about the music and the community it provided for any and ALL women. Didn't putting that language in their seem exclusive and off-putting. Because Amasong clearly states ANY woman is welcome.
now i understand why the language is there. how many church choirs can i sing in? how many communities can i be part of and still have my identity intact? Amasong has and always should have the distinction of lesbian/feminist until every space, every place, is open and affirming to every person on this earth.
as an Amasinger i stand in dissonance. i stand in discord. my voice, made strong by 50 others. we who stand and sing because we must. because when we as group and individuals enter those places which do not welcome us, we have inside of us the harmony of our community. a harmony that is created by the music and energy with make with each other. it is a feeling of connection that we can carry into the darkest places, into the deepest pits. it is a human rope of 50 strong arms that tethers us back to our reality. to the reality that while we have come so far as humans, as women both straight and lesbian, that we have many steps to take. but that we do not and will not take them alone. to me amasong does not just stand for lesbian and feminist, we stand for all who are marginalized just by our very existence.
my grandmother for a long time was telling me that she would not come to our concert this december. stating that she could find no one to come with her, and she would not come alone. after a bit of prodding and poking. i got her to say "why do you have to be in a chorus that has that name? why can't you sing at a church?" i explained it to her through frustrated tears. explained how i felt as though i belonged to something that was greater than me. that i fit with this amazing group of women who create equally as amazing music. and that they share this music in spite of being marginalized and stereotyped and discriminated against. and that all the women who stand on that stage stand in union
more to come....
have you ever had a moment where you feel the whole of your being kinda of tingle...but in a bad way. like your very soul is resonnating with the discord that you feel around you and in you.
i have had this feeling a few times. some stronger than others.
sunday, up and at em at 7:10, i had hit snooze a few times cause i had been up until after midnight the night before. i chilled with my friend jan. to us chillin is just being in the same room, not talking much, listening to music and doing our own things. she played video games, i worked on ads for and upcoming program for amasong. in those moments my soul resonated serenely, quietly, a quiet little hum of contentment.
my partner anne had left to spend the night at her sisters with her nieces. she asked me if i wanted to come the following day to listen to her and her sister sing at church. of course i did! any chance to hear her sing and especially with her sister. i knew it was bound to be beautiful, and not something that i would ever want to miss. (plus, i was hoping it meant i got to see the girls.)
so i was up now...getting ready...i had picked out my clothes the night before. black dress pants, very nice red dress shirt, black tie. i was fussing about the pants being tight in the wrong places. jan said i looked handsome. i was nervous because in the back of my expanse of a brain i knew that something was already being strummed out of tune.
off i went, or off we went, i should say. i dropped jan off at her house and then hit sonics for a coffee. the drive to the gillman exit was uneventful, i sang and sang and sang. i turned left from that exit, drove nearly 30 miles in the wrong direction, turned around in some place called forest and sped all the way back to watseka. miscommunication between me and the mrs.
needless to say by the time i got to the church, i was a bit frazzled. i parked and watched a couple people go in an out a side door of the church. i gauged the people traffic and decided to take my tie off. i already knew it would go far beyond their level of understanding. i got out of my car and lint rolled my pants and shirt. lots of people were wearing jeans...argh! i was told that i shouldn't just in case. and now...i am walking toward the side door wondering if when i go in i will find the sanctuary. NOPE. it is a massive church, methodist and monolithic.
i step into heat...not warmth. people just stared at me and walked right by me. i think by my face it was obvious that i was lost. i wandered upstairs...lots of people, not a single one offered a welcome or hello or can i help you...
finally i just walked into a little room where there were grown ups and said "could someone please tell me were the heck the sanctuary is?" and yes, i was a bit irritated. i felt trapped and on display. the lady said with that stacatto rhythm we all know as hesitation, "i. am. going...down. there. now....you could follow me?" and yes it was phrased as a question.
i said thank you with true sincerity. because i knew once i got to the sanctuary, i would find my real sanctuary with anne.
not ONE single greeter at the front of the church( and there were plenty) said hi, how are you, what's up, kiss my ass...nothing. but it was ok because i saw her. i walked to her, that shinning beautiful beacon. and finally standing next to her my feeling of discord lessened. i am certain that hers rose.
the pastor came and shook amy and anne's hand. welcomed anne to the church, he looked at me and turned away. not a word. i was on fire inside. then church started and i heard him speaking. the words meant nothing to me. he reminded me of a pastor i had known before.
then i felt the pin pricks in my back and the side of my head...the staring little eyes from across the aisle. i ignored them all. i mean i mentioned to anne that people were staring, but i didn't stare back.
anne and amy sang beautifully. truly. i am envious of their ability to harmonize so well. and while they sang i felt like i belonged. i didn't pay attention to the sermon, i couldn't. i wrote notes to anne and kept myself preoccupied by drawing lil pictures. but every time we sang, i sang with pride, and the music was my solace. i knew all the songs, some better than others, they totally ruined joyful joyful by making the last note on several lines end in an 8th note, it was horrible.
but i still sang it with joy. i kept wishing that the piano player would just bust it out like they do in Sister Act 2, and that i could release some serious soul into that lifeless church. but alas...
anne held my hand during parts of the sermon. considering my "welcoming" reception, i was prepared to be stared into submission or have the pew below me burst into a firery seat of flames.
i survived. not a single singe on me. but i was a bit wounded. no one said thanks for coming, i felt like they looked at me like i was a growth on anne's side. a gigantic mole that you can't help but stare at, and wish you could remove. but by the time i got to my car, the wound was beginning to heal and more scar tissue was building.
i have never had a sense of entitlement...like lots of young dykes do.
i never had that chip on my shoulder that made me what to be so distinct from the straight world. i have never wanted to be radical or mean. i could sit there in that bigotry hold my identity with pride and leave with dignity. just me going was an eye opener for them i hope. they may have thought they saw an alien, but i was born here just the same.
part two
i sing in a lesbian/feminist chorus, called Amasong. before i joined i had a conversation with a very wise woman named Jane. i told her i felt the name. Amasong: Champaign-Urbanan's Premier Lesbian/Feminist Chorus was silly and seemingly not necessary. It seemed to me that if you are a lesbian that 99% of the time if not 100, you are a feminist. And really wasn't this whole group really about the music and the community it provided for any and ALL women. Didn't putting that language in their seem exclusive and off-putting. Because Amasong clearly states ANY woman is welcome.
now i understand why the language is there. how many church choirs can i sing in? how many communities can i be part of and still have my identity intact? Amasong has and always should have the distinction of lesbian/feminist until every space, every place, is open and affirming to every person on this earth.
as an Amasinger i stand in dissonance. i stand in discord. my voice, made strong by 50 others. we who stand and sing because we must. because when we as group and individuals enter those places which do not welcome us, we have inside of us the harmony of our community. a harmony that is created by the music and energy with make with each other. it is a feeling of connection that we can carry into the darkest places, into the deepest pits. it is a human rope of 50 strong arms that tethers us back to our reality. to the reality that while we have come so far as humans, as women both straight and lesbian, that we have many steps to take. but that we do not and will not take them alone. to me amasong does not just stand for lesbian and feminist, we stand for all who are marginalized just by our very existence.
my grandmother for a long time was telling me that she would not come to our concert this december. stating that she could find no one to come with her, and she would not come alone. after a bit of prodding and poking. i got her to say "why do you have to be in a chorus that has that name? why can't you sing at a church?" i explained it to her through frustrated tears. explained how i felt as though i belonged to something that was greater than me. that i fit with this amazing group of women who create equally as amazing music. and that they share this music in spite of being marginalized and stereotyped and discriminated against. and that all the women who stand on that stage stand in union
more to come....
canoes are not your friend & chattering does not equal nibbling
it wasn't so bad. really. it was cold and wet and dark by the time the tent was put together. but anne and i did not argue even once during the whole process. and we had never put this tent together before. the lantern that my grams found for us worked until just after the tent was together...phew.
we got our stuff into the tent pretty quick, got the bed blown up with cold air, laid out our sleeping bags and then went and joined the other campers who had started a fire. there were hot dogs and brats (which took forever to cook). jan and i ate mustard sandwiches after the top flew off the bottle and filled our hot dog buns, and got on us our shoes and all over the ground.
the littlest camper, tyler, had quite a night of trips and falls and bumps. poor guy. but he took it all on like a champ and just kept on going like little kids do. it is kind of a symphony to watch...slip, trip, stumble, fall...mom, dad, hugs, kisses, squeezes...shhhh, rest, sniffle...up, walking, talking, running...and here we go again.
i was really a bear that night, wanting to huddle in a corner with a stash of hot-dogs and marshmallows and be left to sulk and pout a bit. but camping is community, it brings out the need for reliance on others to help make up for what you lack. i am not so good at relying on others. not at all. this trip taught me so much about myself and my internal weaknesses.
lesson #1: you can die from cold but it is unlikely if you sleep with anne maureen.
god bless you, you little personal furnace. at first i was just plain COLD. the dampness had sunk into everyone of my bones particularly my legs. my ass was cold enough to set an ice sculpture on. but my lil furnace of goodness she had me toasty by 3am...we went to bed around 9:30 or 10. in-between times i was tossing and turning, shivering and wishing for morning. all night it sounded like the rain my drowned us by morning. but i think some of the noise was nuts falling from the trees as the wind had picked up. i wanted some camping lovins, at least one great moment of pure bliss, cook up some steam in our tent to keep us warm all night. but chattering is not nibbling. in fact it impedes said nibbling.
lesson #2: camping is cooking, eating, cooking, eating, cooking, eating.maybe it was just our group...but it seemed that all we did was cook things and then eat them. it made me think about how much time cavepeople must have spent on just that ONE need. all of us "new age cave people" had to gather food before we went and hoard into our lil cave cars and move said cave car to the campsite, where we unloaded our little treasures to share with the other "new age cave people". we were lucky because all of our cave people brought equally as good of eats. it could have gotten ugly if one of us had brought twigs and berries and others had twinkies for roasting. and ooooh did we roast things. hot dogs, brats, marshmallows, donuts, biscuts, cookies, granola bars. (i really do wish i would have thought to bring some twinkies.)
fortunately all of the weight i gained during the day was shivered off that night.
oh and fire burns off dirt. if you drop it you just cook it longer. if you get ash on it, you eat it anyway. if a child ate part of it and left it, you cooked it longer and ate it.
lesson #3: i am likely to be a neurotic, obsessive, over-protective mother.there were so many times i had to look away. because my kids would have watched the fire from 500 feet away and i would have shown them pictures of the lake after we left the campsite. in truth the kids were perfectly fine. but my heart skipped beats sometimes when they would stand close to the fire or go down to the fenced dock to play. their parents are examples of how i hope i really can be with my kids someday. the patience and grace and compassion and kindness and honest interest that they have invested in their children is inspiring. and i am certain will be returned to them 100 fold as these lil ones grow to be open, creative, tolerant, accepting amazing beautiful beings. (thank you anne, mike and chandra for letting me see such real parenting.)
lesson #4: campfires are round tables with serious warmththere were so many good discussions that happened around that fire. and i was really privileged to get to know someone who i didn't know really at all. listening to each other was so awesome. talking about hard things, deep things seemed to come billowing out just like the smoke from the fire. i felt some of my own walls being melted by the heat. i saw some of my assumptions pop like embers and then turn to ash.
lesson #5: canoes are not your friend.well, they are not mine and they are not jan's. i tend to want to face my fears head on, except that i won't touch a snake. when anne wanted to go in the canoe i didn't want to look like a chicken and i thought i should push myself to try. i don't know where my fear of falling into water came from and i didn't realize how much of a phobia it was until i was in the middle of the lake. poor anne took the brunt of my panic as i plead with various explitives for her to get me back to the dock, NOW! bless her, she was trying so hard and trying not to make sudden movements. i am surprised that there are not holes in the side of the canoe where i was gripping it. and the other ladies of the camp were down on the dock screaming out encouragement, proud of me and my attempt to be a brave canoer. i remember throwing my paddle to the front of the canoe and yelling something like..."get me the FUCK up out of here." i felt bad about my seemingly childish behavior. but i was honestly terrified. at one point i thought about just jumping in so that i would know when i was going to get in. so that my meet and great with the water would be when i wanted it to be NOT when the canoe chose. when we finally got back to the dock, i crawled out and was shaking so bad i thought about just staying there clinging. instead, i stomped off, trying desperately not to cry. seeing my dad in front me shaking his head. saying something like..."Margaret, there isn't a damn thing to be afraid of, what is wrong with you?" i felt small. i felt like i always did as a child, not good enough to just buck up and do it. not good enough to win his approval. i didn't fit as a girl to him and i didn't fit as a boy. i sat cutting potatoes for our dinner meal, feeling badly for getting upset and taking some of it out on anne. rosanne and anne o. both came and talked to me about the experience and helped me talk out some of that irrational fear. and helped me understand that even though it is irrational it is still a valid feeling. the canoe did not tip on me, and i am proud of my first step.
the canoe did tip on jan, when she took it out to fetch a fishing pool that had fallen into the drink. she took a dip in the cold water after getting tangled in the line of the pole. it scared me. she made it out just fine, shivering and stripping layers of clothing. i see london, i see france, i saw jan's underpants. jockey boxer briefs. such an uber-butch she is. i will not be going in a canoe for a long time. at least not with jan...hehehe. it isn't my fear of the water, it is my fear of seeing her underwear again. (just kidding, jan.)
lesson #6: three bodies on a air-mattress require co-ordinated turning.
and three bodies make lots of hot air...gas, smelly and otherwise. rachel, anne j. and i turned back the clock to age 13 by just crawling under the same unzipped sleeping bag. it was so amazing for me to hear them giggle, just purely giggle. and then giggle at their giggles.
during the night i had to turn alot because something on my body had gone to sleep...not in a good way. in order to move, since i was in the middle, i had to announce said turning. it went something like...."i am sorry, but i have to turn over..." grumbles heard from tent-mates..."hey, anne can you please move your elbow so that i can lay back down..." grumble, grumble, grumble. "sorry rachel, but i really need to roll the other way..." snoring snoring snoring.
at some point in the night i thought i might have a melt down. being in the middle had the advantage of warmth but the sense of entrapment. i was penned in by two ladies and a dog. thank god i didn't have to pee at any point.
lesson #7: it is only what you make of it
fear of spiders crawling out from under the lid of the "toilet" (that was a hole in the ground with a toilet body on it), fear of freezing to death, fear of falling into the "raging"...lake, fear of children getting injured and huge arguments over putting up a piece of fabric called a tent. it was only what i made it...kinda scary. but i did it, i lived. nothing bit me, nothing turned black from frost bite, i didn't get wet...at all, and the tent caused no decrees of divorce.
the people i went with made it for me. getting to know each of them a little better as we "roughed" it and shared stories of our families and our youths. i won't go again in super late october, but i will go when it is around 70 degrees, no rain in the forecast, and a wider canoe...more like a boat, and a camper with a toilet that flushes!
hey! it two steps back, one step forward.
more soon...
we got our stuff into the tent pretty quick, got the bed blown up with cold air, laid out our sleeping bags and then went and joined the other campers who had started a fire. there were hot dogs and brats (which took forever to cook). jan and i ate mustard sandwiches after the top flew off the bottle and filled our hot dog buns, and got on us our shoes and all over the ground.
the littlest camper, tyler, had quite a night of trips and falls and bumps. poor guy. but he took it all on like a champ and just kept on going like little kids do. it is kind of a symphony to watch...slip, trip, stumble, fall...mom, dad, hugs, kisses, squeezes...shhhh, rest, sniffle...up, walking, talking, running...and here we go again.
i was really a bear that night, wanting to huddle in a corner with a stash of hot-dogs and marshmallows and be left to sulk and pout a bit. but camping is community, it brings out the need for reliance on others to help make up for what you lack. i am not so good at relying on others. not at all. this trip taught me so much about myself and my internal weaknesses.
lesson #1: you can die from cold but it is unlikely if you sleep with anne maureen.
god bless you, you little personal furnace. at first i was just plain COLD. the dampness had sunk into everyone of my bones particularly my legs. my ass was cold enough to set an ice sculpture on. but my lil furnace of goodness she had me toasty by 3am...we went to bed around 9:30 or 10. in-between times i was tossing and turning, shivering and wishing for morning. all night it sounded like the rain my drowned us by morning. but i think some of the noise was nuts falling from the trees as the wind had picked up. i wanted some camping lovins, at least one great moment of pure bliss, cook up some steam in our tent to keep us warm all night. but chattering is not nibbling. in fact it impedes said nibbling.
lesson #2: camping is cooking, eating, cooking, eating, cooking, eating.maybe it was just our group...but it seemed that all we did was cook things and then eat them. it made me think about how much time cavepeople must have spent on just that ONE need. all of us "new age cave people" had to gather food before we went and hoard into our lil cave cars and move said cave car to the campsite, where we unloaded our little treasures to share with the other "new age cave people". we were lucky because all of our cave people brought equally as good of eats. it could have gotten ugly if one of us had brought twigs and berries and others had twinkies for roasting. and ooooh did we roast things. hot dogs, brats, marshmallows, donuts, biscuts, cookies, granola bars. (i really do wish i would have thought to bring some twinkies.)
fortunately all of the weight i gained during the day was shivered off that night.
oh and fire burns off dirt. if you drop it you just cook it longer. if you get ash on it, you eat it anyway. if a child ate part of it and left it, you cooked it longer and ate it.
lesson #3: i am likely to be a neurotic, obsessive, over-protective mother.there were so many times i had to look away. because my kids would have watched the fire from 500 feet away and i would have shown them pictures of the lake after we left the campsite. in truth the kids were perfectly fine. but my heart skipped beats sometimes when they would stand close to the fire or go down to the fenced dock to play. their parents are examples of how i hope i really can be with my kids someday. the patience and grace and compassion and kindness and honest interest that they have invested in their children is inspiring. and i am certain will be returned to them 100 fold as these lil ones grow to be open, creative, tolerant, accepting amazing beautiful beings. (thank you anne, mike and chandra for letting me see such real parenting.)
lesson #4: campfires are round tables with serious warmththere were so many good discussions that happened around that fire. and i was really privileged to get to know someone who i didn't know really at all. listening to each other was so awesome. talking about hard things, deep things seemed to come billowing out just like the smoke from the fire. i felt some of my own walls being melted by the heat. i saw some of my assumptions pop like embers and then turn to ash.
lesson #5: canoes are not your friend.well, they are not mine and they are not jan's. i tend to want to face my fears head on, except that i won't touch a snake. when anne wanted to go in the canoe i didn't want to look like a chicken and i thought i should push myself to try. i don't know where my fear of falling into water came from and i didn't realize how much of a phobia it was until i was in the middle of the lake. poor anne took the brunt of my panic as i plead with various explitives for her to get me back to the dock, NOW! bless her, she was trying so hard and trying not to make sudden movements. i am surprised that there are not holes in the side of the canoe where i was gripping it. and the other ladies of the camp were down on the dock screaming out encouragement, proud of me and my attempt to be a brave canoer. i remember throwing my paddle to the front of the canoe and yelling something like..."get me the FUCK up out of here." i felt bad about my seemingly childish behavior. but i was honestly terrified. at one point i thought about just jumping in so that i would know when i was going to get in. so that my meet and great with the water would be when i wanted it to be NOT when the canoe chose. when we finally got back to the dock, i crawled out and was shaking so bad i thought about just staying there clinging. instead, i stomped off, trying desperately not to cry. seeing my dad in front me shaking his head. saying something like..."Margaret, there isn't a damn thing to be afraid of, what is wrong with you?" i felt small. i felt like i always did as a child, not good enough to just buck up and do it. not good enough to win his approval. i didn't fit as a girl to him and i didn't fit as a boy. i sat cutting potatoes for our dinner meal, feeling badly for getting upset and taking some of it out on anne. rosanne and anne o. both came and talked to me about the experience and helped me talk out some of that irrational fear. and helped me understand that even though it is irrational it is still a valid feeling. the canoe did not tip on me, and i am proud of my first step.
the canoe did tip on jan, when she took it out to fetch a fishing pool that had fallen into the drink. she took a dip in the cold water after getting tangled in the line of the pole. it scared me. she made it out just fine, shivering and stripping layers of clothing. i see london, i see france, i saw jan's underpants. jockey boxer briefs. such an uber-butch she is. i will not be going in a canoe for a long time. at least not with jan...hehehe. it isn't my fear of the water, it is my fear of seeing her underwear again. (just kidding, jan.)
lesson #6: three bodies on a air-mattress require co-ordinated turning.
and three bodies make lots of hot air...gas, smelly and otherwise. rachel, anne j. and i turned back the clock to age 13 by just crawling under the same unzipped sleeping bag. it was so amazing for me to hear them giggle, just purely giggle. and then giggle at their giggles.
during the night i had to turn alot because something on my body had gone to sleep...not in a good way. in order to move, since i was in the middle, i had to announce said turning. it went something like...."i am sorry, but i have to turn over..." grumbles heard from tent-mates..."hey, anne can you please move your elbow so that i can lay back down..." grumble, grumble, grumble. "sorry rachel, but i really need to roll the other way..." snoring snoring snoring.
at some point in the night i thought i might have a melt down. being in the middle had the advantage of warmth but the sense of entrapment. i was penned in by two ladies and a dog. thank god i didn't have to pee at any point.
lesson #7: it is only what you make of it
fear of spiders crawling out from under the lid of the "toilet" (that was a hole in the ground with a toilet body on it), fear of freezing to death, fear of falling into the "raging"...lake, fear of children getting injured and huge arguments over putting up a piece of fabric called a tent. it was only what i made it...kinda scary. but i did it, i lived. nothing bit me, nothing turned black from frost bite, i didn't get wet...at all, and the tent caused no decrees of divorce.
the people i went with made it for me. getting to know each of them a little better as we "roughed" it and shared stories of our families and our youths. i won't go again in super late october, but i will go when it is around 70 degrees, no rain in the forecast, and a wider canoe...more like a boat, and a camper with a toilet that flushes!
hey! it two steps back, one step forward.
more soon...
yep another one
so...before i leave this blessed warm and cozy lil loft apartment i share with my beautiful partner and two wonderful other pussy....cats. i thought i would take a moment to reflect on my life as it is now.
thank you couch for holding me so snuggly and warmly in your soft cushy cushions, that fold up chair will not be able to compare.
thank you boiler in the basement, you chug away so quietly filling my baseboard heat with wonderful boiling goo that keeps my lil loft apartment so cozy.
thank you kitchen for your immediacy, for you sink and your refrigerator that stays cold without the need for constant ice.
thank you bed, so soft and sweet, that air-mattress (f-ing bitch) is a cheap whore and poor substitute for you.
thank you closet that houses all my clothes so neatly....umm, ok so house them nicely, it so great to be able to not have to live out a of dufflebag.
thank you roof and thank you walls, for working so tirelessly and almost effortlessly to keep out wind and rain and cold...and squirrels, and raccoons, and coyotes, and bears.
and lastly and most importantly...THANK YOU BATHROOM...omg...thank you, i bow down before the porcelin god willingly this time. ( i will not poo in a hole in the ground, i will not do it sam i am, i will not do no matter how full of shit i am. ) and shower with your pressure and your hotness, how you make me...oh so....wet...and clean.
thank you humanity for these comfort i have grown to NEED.
thank you couch for holding me so snuggly and warmly in your soft cushy cushions, that fold up chair will not be able to compare.
thank you boiler in the basement, you chug away so quietly filling my baseboard heat with wonderful boiling goo that keeps my lil loft apartment so cozy.
thank you kitchen for your immediacy, for you sink and your refrigerator that stays cold without the need for constant ice.
thank you bed, so soft and sweet, that air-mattress (f-ing bitch) is a cheap whore and poor substitute for you.
thank you closet that houses all my clothes so neatly....umm, ok so house them nicely, it so great to be able to not have to live out a of dufflebag.
thank you roof and thank you walls, for working so tirelessly and almost effortlessly to keep out wind and rain and cold...and squirrels, and raccoons, and coyotes, and bears.
and lastly and most importantly...THANK YOU BATHROOM...omg...thank you, i bow down before the porcelin god willingly this time. ( i will not poo in a hole in the ground, i will not do it sam i am, i will not do no matter how full of shit i am. ) and shower with your pressure and your hotness, how you make me...oh so....wet...and clean.
thank you humanity for these comfort i have grown to NEED.
count down has begun
well...the event is creeping closer and the calls for inclement weather are still out there. we are getting another tent that doesn't leak, which should help me release some of my grip on the bottle of xanax.
the family that we are with says they will not cancel their plans unless there is a call for severe storms or a tornado. again...who are these people and why do they find this experience so exciting? but it is a damn good thing they are going because they know how to build fires and have things like camping checklists and actual camping gear. i wonder if they have a multi-tool, i could sit and figure out what all the "tools" do while the others build the fire...
the family that we are with says they will not cancel their plans unless there is a call for severe storms or a tornado. again...who are these people and why do they find this experience so exciting? but it is a damn good thing they are going because they know how to build fires and have things like camping checklists and actual camping gear. i wonder if they have a multi-tool, i could sit and figure out what all the "tools" do while the others build the fire...
2 stars and a bad martini
to me, camping is a two-star hotel with bad room service and a lounge that cannot make a good martini. so sleeping outside in a tent is like transporting me to a deserted island where i have completely lost touch with all humanity. and humanity to me, in this instance, is not people. it is electricity, running water, wireless internet, a refrigerator, dishes in the cupboards, a bathroom with ONE toliet (that is mostly mine), a stove, laundry, my cats, a bed (not a bed that deflates overnight). and i like walls and a roof, the solid kind that keep out rain and keep in warmth.
it would be great if i had a personality that fit just grabing a few "essentials" like underwear and a sleeping bag. BUT I DON'T. i like creature comforts. i LOVE them in fact.
at some point a bit over a month ago, i lost my mind and said..."oh sure, i will go camping" it came out so easily just flowed off my lips like everything would be magically delicious. the trip has not even happened and i stutter over the word "ccaaaammmpinggg".
i am sure that i will have fun. i will find some way to find the best out of it all.
it is the prep-work and the idea of freezing my super-sized buns off that has me so filled with tension. the list of need to dos before friday seems to continue to grow and quite honestly my lack of enthusiasm for the whole idea is making me seriously drag my feet about getting said list accomplished.
we are brining tea-lights and pumpkins...oh fun. i will be taking those f-ing tea-lights and making a circle of warmth around me, f-ck the pumpkins. we are going hiking, boating...and i am sure other wonderful things that cause one to sweat and become rather smelly. MANDATORY SHOWERS for all campers in my tent, including the dog.
i want anne to have a good time, so i shall try to find my "brave" face, or at least hide my "this is complete craziness" face. didn't work so well last night when the nice person who let us borrow the tent said that it leaks and then anne said oh yeah we might have slight showers over the weekend.
who are these crazy a$$ people who actually enjoy this insanity. WHO ARE YOU?! obviously i am going with quite a few. my hope is that there will be another not so easily amused camper amongst us with whom i can bond and share my eminent pain and suffering. it does a body good to bitch.
if i make through friday night we will be lucky.
i will be sure to post more after the umm....happy event...be advised that the next version most likely will not be written for a younger audience...
it would be great if i had a personality that fit just grabing a few "essentials" like underwear and a sleeping bag. BUT I DON'T. i like creature comforts. i LOVE them in fact.
at some point a bit over a month ago, i lost my mind and said..."oh sure, i will go camping" it came out so easily just flowed off my lips like everything would be magically delicious. the trip has not even happened and i stutter over the word "ccaaaammmpinggg".
i am sure that i will have fun. i will find some way to find the best out of it all.
it is the prep-work and the idea of freezing my super-sized buns off that has me so filled with tension. the list of need to dos before friday seems to continue to grow and quite honestly my lack of enthusiasm for the whole idea is making me seriously drag my feet about getting said list accomplished.
we are brining tea-lights and pumpkins...oh fun. i will be taking those f-ing tea-lights and making a circle of warmth around me, f-ck the pumpkins. we are going hiking, boating...and i am sure other wonderful things that cause one to sweat and become rather smelly. MANDATORY SHOWERS for all campers in my tent, including the dog.
i want anne to have a good time, so i shall try to find my "brave" face, or at least hide my "this is complete craziness" face. didn't work so well last night when the nice person who let us borrow the tent said that it leaks and then anne said oh yeah we might have slight showers over the weekend.
who are these crazy a$$ people who actually enjoy this insanity. WHO ARE YOU?! obviously i am going with quite a few. my hope is that there will be another not so easily amused camper amongst us with whom i can bond and share my eminent pain and suffering. it does a body good to bitch.
if i make through friday night we will be lucky.
i will be sure to post more after the umm....happy event...be advised that the next version most likely will not be written for a younger audience...