catelin

I have rarely cut people from my journal, especially with unkind feeling toward them.  Today, I did so.  I did it with disgust and relief, but I did not do it lightly.  You see, I am a big believer in dissent and debate.  I do not take it personally when people care to express different views--be they political, religious, what have you--from those that are dear to me.  And my views are dear to me.  I have earned the right to have them through experiences both joyful and desperate.  I always assume that others have come to their views in much the same way.  I am always surprised to find how many have not.

When you are so glib in your railing against "queers and homos," I recall sitting with my friends in the rooms of strangers.  They were dying and we were there so they would not leave this earth with no one to bear witness to their passing.  Abandoned by everyone who should have loved them, abandoned by a government that should have supported them, they died in the arms of people who barely knew them.  When you speak of other human beings with a hatred disguised as flippancy, I recognize you, asshole.  I know who you are from that dark time when so many of my friends were sick, sick to death.  And you did nothing but smile and say it was your god's will.

When you talk about the sanctity of life and how no woman should ever have the right to "kill her baby" I recognize you.  You are the one who is terrified of women, who secretly hates me for being in the same courtroom as you because you believe that your penis makes you better than me.  You are the one who goes to church every Sunday, but didn't hesitate when you paid for your Sancha's abortion so your wife wouldn't find out you were fucking someone behind her back.  You think we don't know, but we do.  Everyone does.  I certainly recognize you as the same hypocrite who wears a thousand different skins in a million different ways.  We've all seen you because your selfishness is too great to be camouflaged.

When you call my candidate of choice a "negro" you conjure every memory I have of race and hatefulness.  Being a sister of the south, I have plenty of those.  I know that you didn't use the word you really meant, not only because you are a coward but because you feel that not saying it somehow lends a patina of civility to your bigotry.  It doesn't.  You are the same mean spirited whisper behind my grandmothers' backs, using the same word for the both of them regardless of the tone of their skin...dark or honeyed brown.  You are the reason that many of my friends are the first children in their families not to speak Spanish.  Their parents didn't teach them, they discouraged them from anything but English--English that you used to put signs in store windows that said "NO DOGS OR MEXICANS."  Have you forgotten that?  I haven't.  You are the same good looking young man who smiled at my friend in the bar 25 years ago and leaned into her ear to hiss "No hablo español."  Did you not remember that?  Because she still does, and so do I.  The funny thing?  She really didn't "habla español" because her parents had grown up getting their knuckles rapped at school for slipping into their native tongue.  They'd learned to deprive her of the language that had been in their family for generations.  You taught them that.  You are this country's shame, and I am sorry that you still feel so afraid of everything and everyone.

You are the weight around so many necks, the boot on so many throats.  Have your smug say somewhere else.  I respect your right to do so, but this little corner of the virtual world is like my kitchen table and I find that I do take it personally when you hurt so many people that I love with your words.  I wouldn't invite anyone with that sort of bile oozing from their spirit into my home, so I feel comfortable choosing to no longer have your hatefulness smeared in my face here.

It's been a rough month or so, but especially the last three weeks.  Three things happened.  First, we had to spend several thousand dollars (that we didn't have) on a new A/C system for the little house.  Second, the sweetest of my kitties almost died last week.  He's home now and doing better...still not completely out of the woods, but alive.  Eating, drinking, and pissing after horrible urinary tract issues that put him into a coma are just fine by me.  What's not so fine by me (even though he is totally worth it and more) is the fifteen hundred dollar vet bill that we're now paying off.  Third, I just found out today that my beloved Subaru is taking a big crap after 160K loyal miles.  I've got to start looking for a new (read--new to me) car pronto.  I drive over a hundred miles a day to and from work, so it's not something I can put off or do without for a while.

I am bombarded, yet I stand. 

The words that always serve me well.

My man has gone to supervise the packing and move of the rest of his things.  He'll be back on Saturday, but I sure miss him.  The upside is that my stepdog and I have bonded like nobody's bizzzness.  He loves me!  Wheeeeeeeee!

My life is pretty ordinary these days.  I read some of your accounts with a little envy...books published, bands breaking, bees charmed....mostly, I grin like a kid and am so proud of you all.  I can't help it.  It's the mother hen in me mixed with the secret hope that I also have something extraordinary in me--that I can't have merely stumbled across so many amazing friends by accident.

My writing feels dull and plodding of late, but my life is joyful and technicolor.  And as awful as I am about keeping in touch and making time to be social, I never come here without feeling intensely the care I have for some of you.  Please never mistake my silence for lack of good will.

I'm the richest broke woman who ever lived.

For my friend S., the man who sometimes cannot see his own magnificent wings.

Compass

I have watched your journey from a distance,
marveled at the movement of you, sweet traveler,
blessed and cursed with the burden of the
changing landscapes of your own body.

I have held my breath as you wrestle
with deep waters and dangerous currents,
always with such an acute sense of the cost,
marked with sacred heart, bone, and gristle
of how you are finding your way to shore.

I have hoped for you to see yourself
as twilight—the most beautiful and brave
time of the day, where the world would quietly
give way to you without question or judgment.

I have silently applauded your steady navigation
through streams of self-doubt and longing, never
being so vain as to see yourself—a bona fide prodigy,
to have become the man you are without ever having
had the chance to be the boy you should have been.

It's blowing here today like crazy, dropping the temperature and taking away any chance that the sun is finally going to warm us up a bit. I was going to throw on some grubby clothes and run down to the Auto Zone (my latest hangout since inheriting a beater car) for transmission fluid, but I got cold feet. Literally.

So instead I stayed in and watched bad movies all day. A friendship of mine ended today. I'm going to mark the date and leave it at that. It's disappointing to stick with a friend and defend them even against the most heinous sort of shit from other people when the going gets rough, only to discover that they're only too glad to heap it on you when you can't see them doing it. Live and learn, as always.

Only a couple of more weeks before I invade Kansas City!!!!!!!!! Yay!!!! I plan to torture the Donna and her new kitties until her man decides they've all had enough and insists it's time for me to go home!! Hee! : )

The first real gray day of the season, and I have to get on the road in a few minutes. I just realized this morning that I let my fifth year here pass without note. The rhythm of my postings have an ebb and flow that I've accepted as natural. I'm always grateful that most of my friends don't take my less frequent comments or posts as anything but an indication that I am mulling things over until I have a way to say them. I'm always here, even when I'm quiet.

It's the birthday of my BFF, lacyunderall and that's reason enough for anyone to be happy, even on a cold day! I love you, Double D!!!!

I got the nicest compliment today!


Co-worker: I always hear you laughing.

Me: So what? Are you saying I'm loud??

Co-worker: Not at all. I dig the laugh. It's the kind that makes others do the same.

I walked in the rain today, happy to let it curl my hair and kiss my face. The Russian Princess arrived bearing flowers. My arms were filled with delicate whites, and yellows turned into deep purples on the edges. Flowers are my therapy. I cannot help but feel blissful in their company. We lunched as the Texas ladies do, gossiping a bit, being a little catty, sharing our secrets. She told me about the wildebeest's departure from her life, how boys never change...except for the good ones, and diabolical plans to start the Best Little Whorehouse and Mexican Cantina in Prague. I told her of new love, spilled the beans on the mysterious suitor who was never a mystery to her, and Christmas shopping. We talked about mahjong lessons, antidotes for the Texas heat, and what feminine wiles a lady might call upon to bring about a permanent change of scenery for a gentleman. That's a purely hypothetical question, of course. I wore black and grey today, but it's a day full of color and happiness....and counting days until I walk into his smile.

I dreamed that you, you, and you moved down to Texas to live with me (probably from recent emailing about the move). Y'all came roaring in around midnight in a van painted with red candy apples all over it. Cool van, I say. Like the Mystery Machine, says Lor. Betsy hollers Where's the blender, pretty lady??? as she comes running in the door. Lor and Bob come in with all sorts of boxes filled with garlands and hula skirts (I blame the beatnik's tiki icon for that). Lor's asking for Larry's number (my tattoo guy) and Bob's got these boss blue braids that stand straight up from her head (perhaps a dream reference from watching The Tick last night?). I'm in the middle of taking clothes out of the dryer and I realize that I've washed and dried all of my clothes on the hangers. Weird. Then Bob proceeds to explain that she's going to make a pitcher of Margarita Jumpers. What is a Margarita Jumper, you ask? I don't know either...but it's some sort of concoction made with margarita mix, tequila, mango syrup, crushed ice and ginger ale...they were delish. That's all I remember.

High point of the day so far: my big hug from a little girl who was in Max's class last year. I usually walk Max to class in the mornings and I see her as she comes in. I painted the kids' faces last year at the Christmas party....dressed up in my best red velvety sparkly stuff because kids love that. I remember the day of the party, she asked me "Are you magic?" And I said, "Of course I am! Everyone is, but some people just don't know they are." She nodded her head as if to say Yeah, I know. So this sweet little girl stops me in the hall every time she sees me now and wraps her tiny ams around my neck. Today she gave me a single pink bead. "I found this," she said. "Why, it's a treasure!" I exclaimed with much fanfare, "Thank you!" She walked away beaming. Magic. Pure magic. : )

I received a wonderful postcard from beatnikside today. It was raining and I felt like writing a little thank-you note.


( Thank You )

We met online a couple of years ago. We were both lurking in a poetry chatroom and he struck up a conversation. I was never that good at the chatroom thing. I didn't have the patience for the tiresome questions about my age, marital status, sexual preference...I'm sure you know the drill. He was different, though. He didn't ask me the stupid questions. He called himself "Custard Brain" and that made me chuckle. It was so....anti-suave, you know? He was smart. More than that; he was clever. He had a wit, a razor sharp wit and a way with words that still leaves me dazzled each time I have mail from him. We spent hours talking to one another about everything and nothing. It was one of those rare connections that people make, even when they are face-to-face. It wasn't about flirting; it wasn't about sex; it wasn't about anything but being friends. We were so stupid sometimes that I'd have tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. But it was that good kind of stupid...that kind that you can only share with the people you trust.

I never thought about it until later; but from the moment I met him, I knew, without any doubt at all, that we were going to mean something very important to each other. That our connection was going to have a significance that would outlast any infatuation with certain sites or virtual meeting places. I was right, you know. He is the reason for so many of the things that I've done. He liked my writing. He was the first person, other than my best girlfriend, to tell me that I had some talent...and that I should keep writing. Even when other's reactions to my stories were lukewarm, he would gently nudge me into continuing. Most of what I wrote wouldn't have been written if it weren't for him. The literary site that I created would not have ever existed if it weren't for him. I would not be writing this here if it weren't for him. I love him in a profoundly, intensely personal way...if there are soul mates, then I have no doubt he is one of mine. It goes so far beyond anything physical, and yet I can almost feel myself tethered to him by the heartstrings from across an ocean. I almost never comment on his journal entries because it's awkward having to share him with others; as I'm sure it is for him to share me. We are both so busy that we hardly have time for more than the occasional "Hey, just checking to make sure you're still alive" email. I have never seen him in person; I'm not sure if I ever will....but it makes no difference to me. I see him. I see him every day, in everything that I do. His name is Val...and he calls me "Cate of the Deserts" and "Cate-o" and all sorts of other wonderful silly names. I am breaking the silence and sharing some of our secrets because I just wanted him to know that things are very much as they were in that joyful beginning we had...and as they shall always be.