Tuesday, July 26, 2011
"Note the trees because the dirt is temporary."
Chris recently gave me the best compliment I've ever received. "You're like a forest," he said, "full of beauty and knowledge." Although Kristina says it's true, she comes to me for shade and succor, as one retreats into the peaceful repose of the woods, I think they mean to say that I am like a tree in a forest--surrounded by all my relations, who are full of beauty and knowledge, and who help me to flourish in strength and longevity through the entanglement of our roots and our mutual striving toward the light--a striving that causes us, in our turn, to shine bright, each of us a sun. Chris and Kristina are two among many such trees in my immediate forest. Who am I to be so fortunate as this? To survive by loving my work? To thrive by the love of all my relations? This blog is an archive of the knowledge and beauty emitted by such trees of life as I have the pleasure of experiencing. Through the acts of remembering, saving, and sharing, I mean to signify my gratitude and to bear witness to my experience: trees all around me produce knowledge and beauty; they flow into the atmosphere like the sweetest, most evolutionary exhalation. Yes, I must admit, I am religious. I have unscientific faith in the transformative power of love, and I believe that to inspire a striving toward understanding is the most valuable use of my precious human life.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
a letter to dad
Well, I'm glad it's springtime in Kansas, "when the world is puddle-wonderful" (e.e. cummings, probably my favorite poet). That poetic phrase doesn't so much apply here in the desert. Our rainy season is at its peak in February, and the earth sucks up every drop of the rain that turns the mountains green overnight. My new house is awesome! I've taken a few pictures, and I'm going to drop off a roll of film at Walgreens today, so I'll send them out soon. It's great to have so much space. The house was built in the 50s, and all the rooms are large. The front and back yards are big, too. There's a fireplace in the living room, and it's the first time I've lived somewhere with a fireplace since mom and Tim lived in that duplex on Pine St. I love it. There's an orange tree in our back yard, and my friend Hannah is going to bring us a juicer later today so we can make juice from the oranges. The tree has been blooming for the last month or so, and the scent is the most heavenly thing I've ever smelled. There are so many citrus trees in Riverside, pretty much the whole city smells that way. I was reading an autobiography by an Indian woman who was sent to the Indian boarding school in Riverside as a child (there were so many of them across the US, active up until the 50s), and the beginning of one chapter reads, "Riverside: land of oranges. Land of perfume. Time of torture." Talk about bittersweet. Kristin called me a few weeks ago to ask if she could have my furniture from the barn. Honestly, I forgot it was there. I tried to sell all my stuff in a yard sale before I moved to California. But, I'm so glad she can get some use out of it. I've been nostalgic for pictures and journals recently, so I hope to rummage through the barn myself this summer when I come to visit. That is crazy that Lisa is 49! And, wasn't Marleen's birthday not too long ago--end of March? Isn't she 49 or 50 now? Did you two do anything special? I'm glad Devin is still working at Brooksider. I haven't heard from him in so long, I wasn't sure. I knew he'd have an opportunity to move up the ladder, but I didn't think it'd take this long for them to move him to bar-back! I know he'll get a cut of the tips this way, and I bet there's less anxiety behind the bar. That's too bad about Grandpa's intestines. Every year, I learn more and more how significant it is to be aware of and in-tune with my body. Like car parts, my internal organs will only hold up for so long--and, it all depends on how hard I make them work and how often I check in to maintain them. I try to keep them "well-oiled" by drinking tons and tons of filtered tap water (bottled water is so wasteful and not-so-great for you). Over the past three or four years, I've had quite a few digestive problems--constipation, diarrhea, gas, etc.--and have read how common these issues are in our toxic society. I've come to understand that all those antibiotics I used to take as a sick child (for ear infections, sinus infections, bronchial infections, etc.) have permanently diminished my natural supply of "good" bacteria in my body, which help to fight infections naturally and also to digest my food. So, I've increased my consumption of yogurt, which has live, active bacteria cultures ("probiotics" rather than "antibiotics"). Being vegetarian, I can't eat just any yogurt (they make yogurt out of soy, too, for lactose intolerant people, but it doesn't have quite as many probiotics as the kind made from milk). Due to its funky, sour-tart taste, manufacturers add a bunch of sugars and fruits to yogurt to improve the taste, and they also add gelatin, for consistency and preservative properties. Gelatin is not vegetarian; it's made from the marrow of various animals' bones: horses, cows, pigs, etc. So, I've been buying plain, organic yogurt and mixing it in the blender with frozen strawberries and peaches and honey. It's done wonders for me! My allergies are much improved, and my digestive system is like clockwork. The tricky thing about medical science, and all science, is that we can only see the immediate effects. The long-term effects are only available to us in hindsight, after damage has already been done. The more I learn about Native cultures, the more apparent it is to me that they have ALWAYS known what "civilized" people are only now beginning to understand. Maybe yogurt will help grandpa. I'm so happy to hear that you are playing drums again. I really wish I had taken the time to learn. I hope to take lessons some day. I'm taking a hip-hop dance class at UCR right now, which is supposed to be "beginner's level," but it's the most difficult thing I've ever tried in my life. Literally, I have never felt so hopeless and worthless. I'm taking the class "for fun" and to try to get out of my head and more into my body. But, I only think in words. I never have any thoughts that are images or motions--just words. I can remember things I read years ago, but I can't remember a sequence of dance steps I learned just moments before. It's the most horrific feeling, in class when everyone is moving together, but my mind goes blank and I can't remember what comes next, and I panic, and I freeze. And, I'm the only one standing still in a class of 40 students, watching helplessly. After the first day, I thought, "oh that's okay, I did alright for my first try." Then after the second class, I decided, "okay, I never remember anything unless I write it down. I'll just write down the steps, and then I can practice them at home." But when I went to write down the steps--at that point, the class had learned about 32 steps--I could only remember the first four! I started to cry. I cried all the way home, and it got really out of control. I had a panic attack, and I made an appointment with a counselor at school. I'm 25 years old, and I'm just now facing the fact that my entire life I have refused to do anything I couldn't master quickly. I am such a perfectionist, and I am so hard on myself, that I've never learned to feel and memorize body movements. I was always the geek who stood against the wall and refused to participate in gym class because I was so ashamed of my body and its movements; I was mortified by the possibility of failing in front of others. I know I have rhythm. I know rhythm. I know music. But, I don't have the MEMORY to repeat a sequence of steps and motions because I never tried.I am very proud of myself for even enrolling in this class. During class, I don't feel anxious about what others think. All the other students are 18-20 yrs. old, so I'm the oldest, whitest one. I stick out like the proverbial sore thumb, and yet that is not what is bothering me--which means I've come a long way! I've grown so much and built up such self-esteem and confidence in my ability to learn and explore new things, and that makes me feel great. But, I'll be working with my counselor about the self-defeating pressure I put on myself to get things right. Another reason I'm going to counseling is for anger. Normally when I'm angry (of course, I've inherited the Coxes' super-short temper), I can sit down and write about how furious I am and about my intense urges to hit, throw, slam, squeeze, choke, prove my power to myself to spite my overwhelming, enraging feelings of impotence; usually, I can write until I'm calm. But lately, my behavior has been out of control and scary. I'm positive this is because of the overabundance of stress I forced myself to take on last quarter and the fact that I didn't really have a spring break to recuperate; I had to spend the entire break grading papers. So now that a new quarter is begun, the old depression is creeping in and demanding that I spend more time on me. Over the past two weeks, I've done something I've NEVER DONE before, that I can recall: I scream. Even at concerts and on roller coasters where screaming is acceptable, I've only ever allowed myself to yell loudly. Well, a few nights ago, I SCREAMED. Like in the movies. Like at the top of my lungs. Twice. In a park, around 10 at night. The build-up was like this: frustration in hip-hop class-->crying and self-loathing-->home to discover my kitty had a nasty puncture wound from I-don't-know-what on his right arm-->rushed him to the vet, which he hates-->I had to stand by helplessly and watch while the vet sodomized my cat with a thermometer, and he screamed so loudly, like someone was killing him. It was ultra traumatic for Butch and for me, and I was furious with the vet, and I started to cry right in her office-->later that night as I tried to give my cat his antibiotics, he freaked out and clawed my face and arm-->I got so angry that I held him down in the most violent manner and forced the medicine-->then I smacked the shit out of the top of his head, picked him up, and threw him forcefully to the ground-->I was so appalled by my monstrous abusiveness that I started to have my second panic attack of the day, ran out of my house and to the neighborhood park where James was jogging. I ran crying so loudly to the park, found him, balled the story. Then I started to jump up and down in place like a little kid, banging my fists on my legs and shouting, "I'm so angry! I'm so angry!" And then, I screamed. Twice. I have strong lungs and a loud voice. Some neighbor dude came out of his house and stood in the middle of the street, looking in my direction and shouting, "Are you okay?" It was so embarrassing, and James and I were both worried someone would call the cops. So, we walked home. The very next morning, I threw another temper tantrum. Butch is supposed to stay inside until his leg heals, and he ran by James' legs and got outside. So I SCREAMED again, slammed the door, and chucked a bottle of vitamins across the room so hard it shattered, vitamins everywhere. I had woken up my other roommate, Pete. Later that evening when I apologized to him for my craziness, he told me he thought there'd been an earthquake, and that's why he jumped out of bed so fast. That was the day I went to the counselor. We did an "intake interview," and I felt so much better afterward. I'm really excited to go back Monday to talk with her. My California life is far too perfect to be sullied by a familiar depressive pattern, which is probably popping up because of stress.Mom called on the phone yesterday, and I told her about all this. She thinks I should quit the hip-hop class and only focus on what is calming and peaceful. But, I really don't want to give up. I think it will be therapeutic to learn to feel and remember my body's movements. And, it will be a great lesson in learning to love humility and revere those who can do so many things much better than I can. Congratulations about your book! That is super exciting. I can't believe I didn't think to suggest a Christian publisher. Your story is very much a lesson in conserving Christian ideologies about gender roles. And like I said before, I will be visiting Kansas this summer. Without a car, I don't know how you and I would visit Lawrence just the two of us. But, I definitely want to go to Rudy's. Hopefully Devin will be able to drive us out there. I miss Lawrence so much, I'd be down to get a hotel room and spend at least one night. When Bozhena sets the dates and I get my plane ticket, I'll let you know so we can make driving arrangements. I love you! Alicia P.S. Here is some more poetry in celebration of Spring: "when faces called flowers float out of the groundand breathing is wishing and wishing is having--but keeping is downward and doubting and never--it's april(yes,april;my darling)it's spring!yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can flyyes the little fish gambol as glad as can be(yes the mountains are dancing together) when every leaf opens without any soundand wishing is having and having is giving--but keeping is doting and nothing and nonsense--alive;we're alive,dear:it's(kiss me now)spring!now the pretty birds hover so she and so henow the little fish quiver so you and so i(now the mountains are dancing,the mountains) when more than was lost has been found has been foundand having is giving and giving is living--but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing--it's spring(all our night becomes day)o,it's spring!all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the skyall the little fish climb through the mind of the sea(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)" --e.e. cummings "O sweet spontaneousearth how often havethe doting fingers ofprurient philosophers pinchedand poked thee,has the naughty thumb of science proddedthy beauty .howoften have religions takenthee upon their scraggy kneessqueezing and buffeting thee that thou mightest conceivegods (buttrueto the incomparablecouch of death thyrhythmiclover thou answerest them only with spring)" --e.e. cummings "Spring is like a perhaps hand(which comes carefullyout of Nowhere)arranginga window,into which people look(whilepeople starearranging and changing placingcarefully there a strangething and a known thing here)and changing everything carefully spring is like a perhaps Hand in a window(carefully to and fro moving New and Old things,whilepeople stare carefullymoving a perhaps fraction of flower here placingan inch of air there)and without breaking anything." --e.e. cummings "now winging selves sing sweetly, while ghosts(thereand here)of snow cringe;dazed an earth shakes sleepout of her brightening mind:now everywherespace tastes of the amazement which is hope gone are those hugest hours of dark and coldwhen blood and flesh to inexistence bow(all that was doubtful's certain,timid's bold;old's youthful and reluctant's eager now) anywhere upward somethings yearn and stirpiercing a tangled wrack of wishless known:nothing is like this keen(who breathes us)airimmortal with the fragrance of begin winter is over--now(for me and you,darling!)life's star prances the blinding blue" --e.e. cummings "in time of daffodils(who knowthe goal of living is to grow)forgetting why,remember how in time of lilacs who proclaimthe aim or waking is to dream,remember so(forgetting seem) in time of roses(who amazeour now and here with paradise)forgetting if,remember yes in time of all sweet things beyondwhatever mind may comprehend,remember seek(forgetting find) and in a mystery to be(when time from time shall set us free)forgetting me,remember me" --e.e. cummings "Now i lay(with everywhere around)me(the great dim deep soundof rain;and of always and of nowhere)and what a gently welcoming darkestness-- now i lay me down(in a most steepmore than music)feeling that sunlight is(life and day are)only loaned:whereasnight is given(night and death and the rain are given;and given is how beautifully snow) now i lay me down to dream of(nothingi or any somebody or youcan begin to begin to imagine) something which nobody may keep.now i lay me down to dream of Spring" --e.e. cummings
Sunday, March 29, 2009
a beautiful lesson about light, from my teacher David
The other day I was eating lunch with some third graders, taking apart my empty milk carton in a way different than theirs, and they were saying “no no, you cant do it that way, do it this way.’ And I just kept doing it my way, and the kids at my table were laughing and saying “no, no, stop,” having a great time, and then, one of the other kids in the classroom who looked quite grumpy blurted out, “moh, iiyo. Jibun no yarikata demo ii shi.” Which means, “Enough already. Doing things your own way is ok too.”Deep wisdom entered into the classroom. I stopped unfolding my milk carton and asked him to repeat what he just said. The boy looked to his teacher confused, but she and I were on the same page. “What you just said about letting others do it their own way..that was wonderful. Say it again, please,” she said.So he did, and the teacher and I both said to him: “very good. Nice idea.” I finally finished unfolding my milk and the little girl next to me held up her empty carton, pushed her thumbs into the center of the top and magically had the thing unfolded in two seconds. “See? This way is faster.” she said. “Yes, I see now. Thank you. Wow, you are also a very good teacher.”Moral of the story: respecting that there is a rainbow of ways to do things is good. But that doesn't mean that all ways are equally efficient. All is light, and some lights are faster than others.
"time flows on" from katy ann
Hi Friends---
Some of you I have seen recently, and some of you I have not seen in a long time, but I just wanted to wish you all a Happy Happy New Year! I hope it brings you all of the possibility and opportunity that you are looking for. I received this message today and I thought it would be nice to share it with all of you in reflecting on the year. I am so grateful to have all of you in my life and I appreciate all of your love and support this year. Many hugs and kisses!
Love, Katy
Time flows on+++++++++++++++++++
The passage of time does not matter to you. It only matters to the body you inhabit and the material artifacts with which you surround yourself.
Wisdom grows upon itself in an ever-expanding manner. There is always room for more, and there always will be.
Beauty becomes more beautiful as you connect more intensely to it. Life increases in fulfillment as it is lived.
Time does not add or subtract or create or destroy anything on its own. Time merely spaces out your perception of what is always real, and gives you the opportunity to experience it all to the fullest extent.
As quickly as the old times flow away from you, new times flow toward you. Each new moment brings even more possibilities than the moment that has just passed.
Time flows on. And as it does, you can continue to fill your world with the best that life can be.
Some of you I have seen recently, and some of you I have not seen in a long time, but I just wanted to wish you all a Happy Happy New Year! I hope it brings you all of the possibility and opportunity that you are looking for. I received this message today and I thought it would be nice to share it with all of you in reflecting on the year. I am so grateful to have all of you in my life and I appreciate all of your love and support this year. Many hugs and kisses!
Love, Katy
Time flows on+++++++++++++++++++
The passage of time does not matter to you. It only matters to the body you inhabit and the material artifacts with which you surround yourself.
Wisdom grows upon itself in an ever-expanding manner. There is always room for more, and there always will be.
Beauty becomes more beautiful as you connect more intensely to it. Life increases in fulfillment as it is lived.
Time does not add or subtract or create or destroy anything on its own. Time merely spaces out your perception of what is always real, and gives you the opportunity to experience it all to the fullest extent.
As quickly as the old times flow away from you, new times flow toward you. Each new moment brings even more possibilities than the moment that has just passed.
Time flows on. And as it does, you can continue to fill your world with the best that life can be.
Indian humor
Dear Professor Raheja, Once again, I apologize for the confusion about my presentation date. I truly remember signing up for January 28, writing my name beside Chandra's. I am interested in exploring examples of resistance, particularly those expressed through irony. I want to know more about irony and Native humor and how these function in Native culture (as sites of resistance? coping/survival? other?). I have chosen a demonstrative film clip to play, and I hope it will generate some productive discussion about this topic. I'm sure I could find a way present this work in relation to the material for February 4. But, as our book review is due February 4 and I have a tutorial paper due for Dr. Edwards' seminar February 5, it would help me tremendously--in terms of time/stress management--to present on the material for January 28. Please let me know for sure if this is okay. I would hate to disrupt the balance of the seminar. Thank you, Alicia P.S. Are there any sources you could suggest that might help my irony/humor project? I haven't begun to research yet, but maybe you have something in mind that would be beneficial for the whole class to learn. Reply Forward
michrr@ucr.eduDear Alicia, Apologies for the delay in writing back to you. I must have comp...Jan 27
michrr@ucr.eduLoading...Jan 27
michrr@ucr.edu to me show details Jan 27 Reply
Dear Alicia,
Apologies for the delay in writing back to you. I must have composed amessage to you in my head that didn't make it to my typing fingers. Feel freenext time to send me an email reminder, call my office extension, or remind meif we run into each other on campus.
If you're still interested, you can definitely present tomorrow. You did writeyour name next to Chandra's, but then she changed her presentation date.Although it may be too late, you might want to check out the following forNative humor: Keith Basso's Portraits of 'The Whiteman'; Linguistic Play andCultural Symbols among the Western Apache; Kenneth Lincoln's Ind'n Humor:Bicultural Play in Native America; Drew Hayden Taylor, Me Funny; and the IndianHumor exhibit at the National Museum of the American Indian(http://www.nmai.si.edu/exhibitions/indian_humor/)
Best,Professor Raheja
michrr@ucr.eduDear Alicia, Apologies for the delay in writing back to you. I must have comp...Jan 27
michrr@ucr.eduLoading...Jan 27
michrr@ucr.edu to me show details Jan 27 Reply
Dear Alicia,
Apologies for the delay in writing back to you. I must have composed amessage to you in my head that didn't make it to my typing fingers. Feel freenext time to send me an email reminder, call my office extension, or remind meif we run into each other on campus.
If you're still interested, you can definitely present tomorrow. You did writeyour name next to Chandra's, but then she changed her presentation date.Although it may be too late, you might want to check out the following forNative humor: Keith Basso's Portraits of 'The Whiteman'; Linguistic Play andCultural Symbols among the Western Apache; Kenneth Lincoln's Ind'n Humor:Bicultural Play in Native America; Drew Hayden Taylor, Me Funny; and the IndianHumor exhibit at the National Museum of the American Indian(http://www.nmai.si.edu/exhibitions/indian_humor/)
Best,Professor Raheja
email correspondence with katy ann
Hi ladies --
Greetings from sunny and hawt South Florida. I haven't talked to a lot of you in a while, and some only via computer, but you all know me well and know I'm a terrible long distance communicator. I do my best but for some reason I can't seem to get my shit together to update people on my life. So, sorry, but know that I always think about you and I miss you terribly. I really do. You girls are the ones I think about when I think of true friends and I can't even start to explain what you mean to me.
You all know that Ryan and I have split up -- well its official - we got divorced 2 weeks ago. It has been really sad and hard to go through. I know that all of you love Ryan and I do too... unfortunately we just didn't really know how to live together. We did our best and we had a lot of love between us but both of us had a lot of personal work to do before we could be in a relationship together and we didn't know this until after we got married. I still see him often and we hang out. There are really no bad feelings between us and we often cook dinnner and hang out with the dogs. Hes a very important person in my life and always will be. In any case, Im doing okay and for the first time in my life I am really learning to live on my own. I have my own house and my own space. I am totally doing my own thing. I really love it. I feel very empowered and like Im learning how to be a better person, more open, more compassionate and learning how to make my dreams reality. This is very good for me and Im not sure I could have done it in any other way. The past two years have been pretty crazy for me, moving to Florida, getting married and divorced, meeting some really good and some really not so good people, and that has all brought me to where I am.
Unfortunately, my house has been broken into twice in the past month and the second time I discovered this morning. I have been dog sitting for some friends and came home to a broken window and 1 less stereo. The first time I got broken into they stole my guitar, jewelry and DVDs.. including popsicles from my freezer. Weird. I tend to sometimes be a stubborn person and want to "prove" to everyone that I can do something, i.e. live in the ghetto by myself. However I am officially freaked out now and don't want to live in my house anymore. All of this life upheaval lately has had me evaluating everything that is important in my life.
About 4 months ago Pizza Fusion got bought out by a bank down here. We had to do it because we needed money but my job has officially turned into something I didn't ever want. I rarely get to be creative anymore, I am essentially doing text edits all day, the graphic design equivalent of data-entry. I have been sticking with it because I keep thinking it will get better / this is a good lesson for me to learn to live in the corporate world / its all in how I perceive my job / Im learning how to deal with assholes and selfish people. These ARE all important lessons but it does not change the fact that I don't much like my job anymore, let alone living in Florida. I hate to generalize but there is a reason that many songs have been written about how much Florida sucks and Vic Chestnut was right when he sang "its the redneck riviera". There is a glut of money and showmanship, expensive steakhouses and nose jobs, and a sad, sad lack of art, music and genuinely down to earth people. This is why I chose the house I live in. It reminds me of a cottage you would find in Lawrence - lime green, wood house with a great porch. My neighborhood consists of a pretty substantial gay community but also a pretty substantial ghetto about 2 blocks from my house. Lots of drugs and homelessness.
Enough complaining! I probably sound like a total downer but what I am getting at is that I have grown a LOT in the last two years since I moved here and I would not trade it in for the world. But... I think my time here is done. I feel like its time for me to move on and to where, I have no idea. A LARGE part of me wants to move back to Lawrence, although the job market there is shitty and I don't quite know what I would do. Maybe I'll just tutor athletes for 80 hours a week to stay afloat. Another part of me wants to move back to Tulsa and just regroup for a little while, be in a familiar place and have my parents close by (which would be a blessing and a curse). Then another part of me wants to go to a totally new place and try something totally different - California has been at the top of that list for a while for me, maybe San Diego or LA. At the end of the day, I think I might try to go back to Lawrence or KC for a little while. Its familiar and I miss it a lot, there are a lot of design possibilities in KC, and I would be close enough to but not in the same house with my parents. Making a big life change is both exciting and scary as fuck. I have never really felt like I had as much freedom as I do right now. It is exhilirating and intimidating. What choice do I make and how do I know its the right one for me? It would be "easy" for me to stay here, but its not what I want, and I don't want to get comfortable here. That is how people get sucked in down here. It really is an easy life - warm, beaches, conveniences and such - but its not where I want to be.
Anyway, I love you all and I would love to hear from you too. I will try to keep you updated the best I can with the latest in my life and where the hell Im going next.
xoxKaty
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Alicia Cox to Katy show details 4:08 PM (0 minutes ago) Reply
Katy, I have always prided myself on how well I can keep in touch with far-away soul mates like you. But these past few months have been rough for me! in a mostly exhilarating, yet exhausting way. I moved into a new house with two homeboys during a busy time in school, during the most stressful quarter yet. I regret that it's taken me this long to respond to your email, but I am confident you'll understand. I love you and think about you a lot, talk about you to my California friends. David said it best in a recent, far-too-long-in-coming but nevertheless perfect email exchange: "I think of you more often than I write . . . I hope to god that our lack of correspondence is not a sign of deteriorating friendship, but a sign of growing up. Two old lovers can sit on a park bench and not say a word to each other, yet be totally blessed out and in love. As our friendship matures, our need to stay superficially connected (physically, or on the surface) dwindles and we instead float in the ocean of understanding, the ocean of being that is always connected, and in love, and in Friendship." I want to say congratulations on your divorce! Marriage is a very unrealistic/unnatural and otherwise emotionally, politically, and psychologically fraught thing. It seems to me that you and Ryan have handled it--and its undoing--with maturity and compassion, and that you have both learned a lot of great lessons in the process. I bet that if anything, this has strengthened your friendship because you know more about yourselves and each other now. I am so grateful to still be good friends with Steph. For New Years Eve, my homeboy James and I drove to San Francisco and stayed in Steph's bedroom. She stayed at her girlfriend Syd's place down the block. The four of us hung out all weekend, made dinner together, went to a New Years Eve Ball downtown to see Mos Def, and basically had a blast the entire time. It was wonderful. You know, when Steph and I were together, it was all well and good fun to call each other "wifey," wear rings signifying our taken-ness, and bemoan our inability to be legally married. But since I've moved to California and seen the battle over Proposition 8 from the center of the action, reality has sunk in. Marriage is a terrible, burdensome, neo-liberal thing. Yes, children should be raised in environments with regularly present, stable, responsible, and organized parental figures. But, why should they be the biological mother and father? Capitalism demands that husband and wife indebt/enslave themselves to banks in order to "own" a home, work full-time jobs in order to perhaps shorten the duration of the mortgage payments, and therefore spend ridiculous amounts of money on daycare, where strangers raise their children anyway. I think kids should be raised in communes, like Bjork was, by people like my mom and step-dad and other foster parents who genuinely love being parents and wouldn't rather do anything else for a living but feed, clothe, clean after, play with, and teach kids. My point is, I no longer think gay people should get married; I don't think anybody should. The whole thing is a scam, a way to give straight, white, civilly obedient people a financial break for being good Americans. Living together is a very sensitive thing, and not many people can do it peacefully and happily with just anyone. Marriage has, historically, served to imprison many people in unhappy homes for their entire lives. I'm so thankful that you and Ryan didn't drag it out and let it damage your selves too much. I am very sorry to hear about the break-ins and your losses. It is very scary and threatening to know that a stranger has been in your space. My car has been broken into a couple times. A couple weeks after I moved to Riverside, I discovered that someone had evidently tried to break the lock and handle off the passenger door of my car, with no luck but pretty significant damage. I can't open that door with a key any longer. On another occasion, they broke in by I can't imagine what means--no apparent damage was done--and, they stole my brand new CD player! My old one had broken, so I bought a new one, and it was stolen a week later. In the winter time, I went out to my car and found that the driver's seat was reclined entirely--I did NOT leave it that way--and, the dome light was switched to "off." I reasoned that some homeless person had found a warm-ish place to sleep. On all but the first of these occasions, my car was parked inside my apartment complex's gated, covered parking lot. I tell myself, this is what I get for owning a car! But although I try not to live with fear, it is unnerving to wonder, as I approach my vehicle in the dark, if someone will be in there waiting for me. I don't think Lawrence has the same kind of desperate people as those who live where you and I live now. As for your move, I think Kansas City is a fabulous choice. Your mom and dad would be a weekend trip away; and you know they'd drive to see you, too. You could go to Lawrence whenever you want, and it could come to you. I've always wanted to live in the Westport area, where I hung out so often as a child. Lots of my dad's friends lived there. Be careful where you go though, and don't be alone. My friend Devin Cassidy (Ben Dory's long-time girlfriend) was killed in Kansas City last year by a young stranger who shot a gun at her through her driver's side window. A girl who went to my high school, Erica Peterson, was shot by a dude who tried to steal her purse on the plaza. Luckily, she lived. The guns and poverty in this country... I really think Kansas City would be great. There's plenty to do, to see, to love. But, don't get stuck! I (selfishly) think KC would be a great transitional space for you to refuel and prepare for your move west! I would love to have you in my California life. Even though we don't converse often, I think of you as a soul mate because you've taught me so many lessons that when I relate them to other people, you're there. I've been learning a lot about myself and growing a lot, too, this past year and a half. I've discovered that I'm a natural teacher. I love my job! I think sharing stories, information, ideas, abilities, etc. is an active form of loving and seeking mutual understanding. My work in graduate school is tending toward theories of queer kinship and family making that is not re-productive but re-creational or re-volutionary. I wrote a paper about Moby-Dick as a study in queer utopia making; specifically, it's about the teacher-student, inter-racial, romantic "friendship" of Queequeg and Ishmael. The reason why my last quarter at school has been so rough is that I took on too many responsibilities. My first year of school, I was on stipend, which means I just enrolled in two graduate seminars per quarter and got paid to go to school. This year, my stipend was ended, so I had to teach one section of freshman English per quarter in order to get paid; this teaching is in addition to the two graduate seminars. During the Fall quarter, I was pretty overwhelmed, but I did alright. Then during the Winter quarter (January-March), my American Lit. professor asked me if I would work for her as a grader for her American novel class, which consisted of 66 junior and senior undergraduate English majors. I knew the job would be too much to take on in addition to my own English 1B class I was teaching and my two graduate seminars, but I sort of felt pressured into accepting her offer because I knew it would be a great opportunity. Though it didn't pay much ($12 per student, roughly $792 for the entire quarter), I knew the books and articles her students were reading were things in my field that I should read anyway, and it was a good experience to read upper-classmen's work. But it was too much work for the short, winter days. At the end of the ten-week quarter, my body broke down. I broke out into hives, which had never happened before. They were insanely itchy like flea bites, unsightly like a rash of chicken pox, and nothing would alleviate the distracting discomfort. The doctor told me to take Benadryl, even though I already take a prescription allergy medication. I took the extra Benadryl, and it would take the edge off the itching ever so slightly, but it would also make me sleepy as fuck, so I wasn't getting any work done on my 20-page seminar papers. Deadlines were increasing my anxiety, I was downing coffee to stay awake, which induced diarrhea, which resulted in a hemorrhoid; I came down with a bacterial vaginal infection, which I lived with for two weeks before I finally went to the doctor, who prescribed me an antibiotic, which apparently got rid of my bacterial infection but induced a raging yeast infection... It's been rough. I broke down and asked for an extention on the first of my seminar papers, and then I stayed up 48 hours straight to finish the second one, which I turned in late. After that, I spent the first half of my spring break grading papers. But after that, I had a few days to relax and recharge. Today is the last day of my spring break, as the Spring quarter begins tomorrow. In the past few days, I've had a massage, a day at the beach, a couple sessions of sun-soaking in my very own back yard, and a wild night last night at the Paid Dues Hip-Hop Festival in San Bernardino. The festival was founded four years ago by Murs, my favorite rapper. The line-up was great: LMNO, Eyedea and Abilities, the Grouch and Eligh (of Living Legends), Brother Ali, Living Legends, Atmosphere... There were a couple acts I didn't care about, like B-Real from Cypress Hill and Tech N9ne from Kansas City! And, there were a few I've never heard of. The show started at 3. James and I got there around 4, and we left at midnite. I was dehydrated, and my knees and back were killing me. I feel so old these days! But, I had a great time. I hope I never get too old for that kind of shit. I've decided to take advantage of the free therapy sessions I can have at the campus health center. I haven't seen a therapist since I was 15, and I think it'll be a good thing. I'm excited for school to start tomorrow. I'll be teaching English 1C, which focuses more on reading and less on composition. For the first time, I'll be teaching a novel! I had a list to choose from, so I picked Devil in a Blue Dress by W. Mosley because it's the only one I've already read-->less work for me. If you haven't seen the movie adaptation (f. Denzel Washington), I highly recommend it. The thing I am MOSTLY excited about is the break from stress! I'll be taking my MA exams in week 6, so I am not required to enroll in any graduate seminars. In lieu of the second foreign language requirement, I've opted to "minor" in Native American Studies, so I'll be taking an upper-division undergraduate history class called History of Native American Women. Also, for fun, I've enrolled in a beginner's level hip-hop dance class! I'm excited to learn, but I'm getting nervous. I'll probably be the oldest person in the class. This email is practically a novel. Sorry about the length, but it's really great to communicate with you. I was so sad that the Jayhawks lost the Michigan State game, by the way! I love you and hope you will let me know if/when you're moving and to what address I can send you some mix CDs I've made recently, plus a really incredible one I received this week from Ailecia Ruscin. Peace, Alicia- Show quoted text -
Greetings from sunny and hawt South Florida. I haven't talked to a lot of you in a while, and some only via computer, but you all know me well and know I'm a terrible long distance communicator. I do my best but for some reason I can't seem to get my shit together to update people on my life. So, sorry, but know that I always think about you and I miss you terribly. I really do. You girls are the ones I think about when I think of true friends and I can't even start to explain what you mean to me.
You all know that Ryan and I have split up -- well its official - we got divorced 2 weeks ago. It has been really sad and hard to go through. I know that all of you love Ryan and I do too... unfortunately we just didn't really know how to live together. We did our best and we had a lot of love between us but both of us had a lot of personal work to do before we could be in a relationship together and we didn't know this until after we got married. I still see him often and we hang out. There are really no bad feelings between us and we often cook dinnner and hang out with the dogs. Hes a very important person in my life and always will be. In any case, Im doing okay and for the first time in my life I am really learning to live on my own. I have my own house and my own space. I am totally doing my own thing. I really love it. I feel very empowered and like Im learning how to be a better person, more open, more compassionate and learning how to make my dreams reality. This is very good for me and Im not sure I could have done it in any other way. The past two years have been pretty crazy for me, moving to Florida, getting married and divorced, meeting some really good and some really not so good people, and that has all brought me to where I am.
Unfortunately, my house has been broken into twice in the past month and the second time I discovered this morning. I have been dog sitting for some friends and came home to a broken window and 1 less stereo. The first time I got broken into they stole my guitar, jewelry and DVDs.. including popsicles from my freezer. Weird. I tend to sometimes be a stubborn person and want to "prove" to everyone that I can do something, i.e. live in the ghetto by myself. However I am officially freaked out now and don't want to live in my house anymore. All of this life upheaval lately has had me evaluating everything that is important in my life.
About 4 months ago Pizza Fusion got bought out by a bank down here. We had to do it because we needed money but my job has officially turned into something I didn't ever want. I rarely get to be creative anymore, I am essentially doing text edits all day, the graphic design equivalent of data-entry. I have been sticking with it because I keep thinking it will get better / this is a good lesson for me to learn to live in the corporate world / its all in how I perceive my job / Im learning how to deal with assholes and selfish people. These ARE all important lessons but it does not change the fact that I don't much like my job anymore, let alone living in Florida. I hate to generalize but there is a reason that many songs have been written about how much Florida sucks and Vic Chestnut was right when he sang "its the redneck riviera". There is a glut of money and showmanship, expensive steakhouses and nose jobs, and a sad, sad lack of art, music and genuinely down to earth people. This is why I chose the house I live in. It reminds me of a cottage you would find in Lawrence - lime green, wood house with a great porch. My neighborhood consists of a pretty substantial gay community but also a pretty substantial ghetto about 2 blocks from my house. Lots of drugs and homelessness.
Enough complaining! I probably sound like a total downer but what I am getting at is that I have grown a LOT in the last two years since I moved here and I would not trade it in for the world. But... I think my time here is done. I feel like its time for me to move on and to where, I have no idea. A LARGE part of me wants to move back to Lawrence, although the job market there is shitty and I don't quite know what I would do. Maybe I'll just tutor athletes for 80 hours a week to stay afloat. Another part of me wants to move back to Tulsa and just regroup for a little while, be in a familiar place and have my parents close by (which would be a blessing and a curse). Then another part of me wants to go to a totally new place and try something totally different - California has been at the top of that list for a while for me, maybe San Diego or LA. At the end of the day, I think I might try to go back to Lawrence or KC for a little while. Its familiar and I miss it a lot, there are a lot of design possibilities in KC, and I would be close enough to but not in the same house with my parents. Making a big life change is both exciting and scary as fuck. I have never really felt like I had as much freedom as I do right now. It is exhilirating and intimidating. What choice do I make and how do I know its the right one for me? It would be "easy" for me to stay here, but its not what I want, and I don't want to get comfortable here. That is how people get sucked in down here. It really is an easy life - warm, beaches, conveniences and such - but its not where I want to be.
Anyway, I love you all and I would love to hear from you too. I will try to keep you updated the best I can with the latest in my life and where the hell Im going next.
xoxKaty
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Alicia Cox to Katy show details 4:08 PM (0 minutes ago) Reply
Katy, I have always prided myself on how well I can keep in touch with far-away soul mates like you. But these past few months have been rough for me! in a mostly exhilarating, yet exhausting way. I moved into a new house with two homeboys during a busy time in school, during the most stressful quarter yet. I regret that it's taken me this long to respond to your email, but I am confident you'll understand. I love you and think about you a lot, talk about you to my California friends. David said it best in a recent, far-too-long-in-coming but nevertheless perfect email exchange: "I think of you more often than I write . . . I hope to god that our lack of correspondence is not a sign of deteriorating friendship, but a sign of growing up. Two old lovers can sit on a park bench and not say a word to each other, yet be totally blessed out and in love. As our friendship matures, our need to stay superficially connected (physically, or on the surface) dwindles and we instead float in the ocean of understanding, the ocean of being that is always connected, and in love, and in Friendship." I want to say congratulations on your divorce! Marriage is a very unrealistic/unnatural and otherwise emotionally, politically, and psychologically fraught thing. It seems to me that you and Ryan have handled it--and its undoing--with maturity and compassion, and that you have both learned a lot of great lessons in the process. I bet that if anything, this has strengthened your friendship because you know more about yourselves and each other now. I am so grateful to still be good friends with Steph. For New Years Eve, my homeboy James and I drove to San Francisco and stayed in Steph's bedroom. She stayed at her girlfriend Syd's place down the block. The four of us hung out all weekend, made dinner together, went to a New Years Eve Ball downtown to see Mos Def, and basically had a blast the entire time. It was wonderful. You know, when Steph and I were together, it was all well and good fun to call each other "wifey," wear rings signifying our taken-ness, and bemoan our inability to be legally married. But since I've moved to California and seen the battle over Proposition 8 from the center of the action, reality has sunk in. Marriage is a terrible, burdensome, neo-liberal thing. Yes, children should be raised in environments with regularly present, stable, responsible, and organized parental figures. But, why should they be the biological mother and father? Capitalism demands that husband and wife indebt/enslave themselves to banks in order to "own" a home, work full-time jobs in order to perhaps shorten the duration of the mortgage payments, and therefore spend ridiculous amounts of money on daycare, where strangers raise their children anyway. I think kids should be raised in communes, like Bjork was, by people like my mom and step-dad and other foster parents who genuinely love being parents and wouldn't rather do anything else for a living but feed, clothe, clean after, play with, and teach kids. My point is, I no longer think gay people should get married; I don't think anybody should. The whole thing is a scam, a way to give straight, white, civilly obedient people a financial break for being good Americans. Living together is a very sensitive thing, and not many people can do it peacefully and happily with just anyone. Marriage has, historically, served to imprison many people in unhappy homes for their entire lives. I'm so thankful that you and Ryan didn't drag it out and let it damage your selves too much. I am very sorry to hear about the break-ins and your losses. It is very scary and threatening to know that a stranger has been in your space. My car has been broken into a couple times. A couple weeks after I moved to Riverside, I discovered that someone had evidently tried to break the lock and handle off the passenger door of my car, with no luck but pretty significant damage. I can't open that door with a key any longer. On another occasion, they broke in by I can't imagine what means--no apparent damage was done--and, they stole my brand new CD player! My old one had broken, so I bought a new one, and it was stolen a week later. In the winter time, I went out to my car and found that the driver's seat was reclined entirely--I did NOT leave it that way--and, the dome light was switched to "off." I reasoned that some homeless person had found a warm-ish place to sleep. On all but the first of these occasions, my car was parked inside my apartment complex's gated, covered parking lot. I tell myself, this is what I get for owning a car! But although I try not to live with fear, it is unnerving to wonder, as I approach my vehicle in the dark, if someone will be in there waiting for me. I don't think Lawrence has the same kind of desperate people as those who live where you and I live now. As for your move, I think Kansas City is a fabulous choice. Your mom and dad would be a weekend trip away; and you know they'd drive to see you, too. You could go to Lawrence whenever you want, and it could come to you. I've always wanted to live in the Westport area, where I hung out so often as a child. Lots of my dad's friends lived there. Be careful where you go though, and don't be alone. My friend Devin Cassidy (Ben Dory's long-time girlfriend) was killed in Kansas City last year by a young stranger who shot a gun at her through her driver's side window. A girl who went to my high school, Erica Peterson, was shot by a dude who tried to steal her purse on the plaza. Luckily, she lived. The guns and poverty in this country... I really think Kansas City would be great. There's plenty to do, to see, to love. But, don't get stuck! I (selfishly) think KC would be a great transitional space for you to refuel and prepare for your move west! I would love to have you in my California life. Even though we don't converse often, I think of you as a soul mate because you've taught me so many lessons that when I relate them to other people, you're there. I've been learning a lot about myself and growing a lot, too, this past year and a half. I've discovered that I'm a natural teacher. I love my job! I think sharing stories, information, ideas, abilities, etc. is an active form of loving and seeking mutual understanding. My work in graduate school is tending toward theories of queer kinship and family making that is not re-productive but re-creational or re-volutionary. I wrote a paper about Moby-Dick as a study in queer utopia making; specifically, it's about the teacher-student, inter-racial, romantic "friendship" of Queequeg and Ishmael. The reason why my last quarter at school has been so rough is that I took on too many responsibilities. My first year of school, I was on stipend, which means I just enrolled in two graduate seminars per quarter and got paid to go to school. This year, my stipend was ended, so I had to teach one section of freshman English per quarter in order to get paid; this teaching is in addition to the two graduate seminars. During the Fall quarter, I was pretty overwhelmed, but I did alright. Then during the Winter quarter (January-March), my American Lit. professor asked me if I would work for her as a grader for her American novel class, which consisted of 66 junior and senior undergraduate English majors. I knew the job would be too much to take on in addition to my own English 1B class I was teaching and my two graduate seminars, but I sort of felt pressured into accepting her offer because I knew it would be a great opportunity. Though it didn't pay much ($12 per student, roughly $792 for the entire quarter), I knew the books and articles her students were reading were things in my field that I should read anyway, and it was a good experience to read upper-classmen's work. But it was too much work for the short, winter days. At the end of the ten-week quarter, my body broke down. I broke out into hives, which had never happened before. They were insanely itchy like flea bites, unsightly like a rash of chicken pox, and nothing would alleviate the distracting discomfort. The doctor told me to take Benadryl, even though I already take a prescription allergy medication. I took the extra Benadryl, and it would take the edge off the itching ever so slightly, but it would also make me sleepy as fuck, so I wasn't getting any work done on my 20-page seminar papers. Deadlines were increasing my anxiety, I was downing coffee to stay awake, which induced diarrhea, which resulted in a hemorrhoid; I came down with a bacterial vaginal infection, which I lived with for two weeks before I finally went to the doctor, who prescribed me an antibiotic, which apparently got rid of my bacterial infection but induced a raging yeast infection... It's been rough. I broke down and asked for an extention on the first of my seminar papers, and then I stayed up 48 hours straight to finish the second one, which I turned in late. After that, I spent the first half of my spring break grading papers. But after that, I had a few days to relax and recharge. Today is the last day of my spring break, as the Spring quarter begins tomorrow. In the past few days, I've had a massage, a day at the beach, a couple sessions of sun-soaking in my very own back yard, and a wild night last night at the Paid Dues Hip-Hop Festival in San Bernardino. The festival was founded four years ago by Murs, my favorite rapper. The line-up was great: LMNO, Eyedea and Abilities, the Grouch and Eligh (of Living Legends), Brother Ali, Living Legends, Atmosphere... There were a couple acts I didn't care about, like B-Real from Cypress Hill and Tech N9ne from Kansas City! And, there were a few I've never heard of. The show started at 3. James and I got there around 4, and we left at midnite. I was dehydrated, and my knees and back were killing me. I feel so old these days! But, I had a great time. I hope I never get too old for that kind of shit. I've decided to take advantage of the free therapy sessions I can have at the campus health center. I haven't seen a therapist since I was 15, and I think it'll be a good thing. I'm excited for school to start tomorrow. I'll be teaching English 1C, which focuses more on reading and less on composition. For the first time, I'll be teaching a novel! I had a list to choose from, so I picked Devil in a Blue Dress by W. Mosley because it's the only one I've already read-->less work for me. If you haven't seen the movie adaptation (f. Denzel Washington), I highly recommend it. The thing I am MOSTLY excited about is the break from stress! I'll be taking my MA exams in week 6, so I am not required to enroll in any graduate seminars. In lieu of the second foreign language requirement, I've opted to "minor" in Native American Studies, so I'll be taking an upper-division undergraduate history class called History of Native American Women. Also, for fun, I've enrolled in a beginner's level hip-hop dance class! I'm excited to learn, but I'm getting nervous. I'll probably be the oldest person in the class. This email is practically a novel. Sorry about the length, but it's really great to communicate with you. I was so sad that the Jayhawks lost the Michigan State game, by the way! I love you and hope you will let me know if/when you're moving and to what address I can send you some mix CDs I've made recently, plus a really incredible one I received this week from Ailecia Ruscin. Peace, Alicia- Show quoted text -
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