26 October 2012

Stereotype


I cut my hair
so now girls know.
I’ve left my lair
and come out, so
I let them stare-
confused, although
it matches me.
My head is free.

‘Short, long?’- it’s wrong.
Butch/femme: pick one!
Do I belong?
It could be fun
with locks so long.
My girlfriend’s won;
she’s label free.
Could that be me?

15 October 2012

Fandom friendship reflections: bitter working on better.


Last night I was lying in bed, attempting to explain to Katie my experiences at Terminus, a 2008 Harry Potter convention in Chicago. It was marvelous and exquisite. There is a reason I’ve written about Terminus extensively. My friend at the time, Liz, told me not to get too sad when it ended. I was like, “okay.” And then I got really depressed when it ended. And not just an, “I miss my friends a lot” kind of way, but in a, “my friends all hate me because now they don’t talk to me since the convention is over and it wasn’t real friendship anyway and fuck them we’re over.”
Four years ago, I’m finally getting over that feeling.
As I was explaining to Katie the awkward Terminus hallway heart-to-hearts, meet-ups, concerts, and drama, I realized that I was talking about a different person. Certainly not me. Certainly not even the four-years-ago me, but a different person entirely. But I can’t tell whether I’ve grown up since then. I think I’ve just grown… on.
I was part of (what I thought was) a very tight knit group of six friends for the first time in my life in 2008. I had gotten over my best friend of 5 years who I was in love with, I was still dealing with my sister and dad moving out and refusing contact with my mom and I, and I was a depressed high school freshman. So I met these people through the Internet who I thought were going to be my life. They were so much like me, they had so much passion for Harry Potter, and I could be myself around them - on screen and, it turned out, off. 
I was immersed in this group of friends for what seems like most of my life. I was the messenger in the “he likes him, but does he like him back” and I was in the middle of the “don’t tell them, you’re the only one that can know”. I was the backstabber, I was the liar, I was the sweet girl, I was the trustworthy young’un, I was the playful redhead, I was the only one that kept in touch with all of them at the same time.
Because none of them cared about each other like I cared about them all. And it took me way too long to realize that.
Four years later, I am only loosely friends with two of them. One of those relationships is merely because we live in the same area. The other is because she and I started out as best friends before the other ones came into play, so there will always be something special between us. 
I’ve bitch-blogged countless times about how I don’t believe friendship to be the “oh! You’re in town? Let me visit you!” kind of ordeal. I don’t see friendship as the talk-to-you-every-other-year guy or the  ”oh girl you so pretty”-on-my-photo-comments girl. They’re acquaintances. And acquaintances I’m not that fond of having. I’d rather refer to them as “some girl” or “stranger”.
I’ve accepted that some people find me really ridiculous for this. But I have to do it for myself, I have to. I can’t keep thinking of past conventions and meet-ups as divine or OMGSOKOOLIMISSITSOMUCH!!! I have to just think of them as normal, regular people who fuck up and ignore each other, just like they did, and do, to me. They don’t think about me anymore. If they did, they’d get in touch. And I won’t do that for them, because I’ve tried. There’s only so many times you can be like, “Hey, let’s hang out/catch up” before you stop fucking trying.
It’s strange to think back on Terminus and realize those friends are now just another name on Facebook. Here’s to you, past. And here’s to a brighter future, one with real friends who will stay, regardless of geographical convenience or potential drama. 
“Remember when Zach said this and everything was fucked up from there?” “Who is Zach?” is supposed to be funny. I’m supposed to laugh at something I cherished, but I won’t. And 99% of people I know would suggest that I laugh rather than sulk, but I just can’t make myself smile when I think about the awfully dramatic conventions I’ve gone to. Because I was happy then, and now I see what I was missing that caused me to be happy - perception.
I think it’s just miraculous how something so dear to me destroyed my mind, my world view, so much.
I just want new.

02 October 2012

I am so proud of myself.




Last week I did sort of a “trial week” of makeup. You might’ve noticed from the pictures of me kissy-facing the camera and wearing eyeliner.
Well, let me give some backstory. When I was in sixth grade, I would have done anything to be labeled feminine. I tried pretty hard, but not hard enough. People who I used to be friends with passed me mean notes in class saying, “hey dyke!” and, “you’re a loner”. Comments from 99% of my class consisted of, “you look like a man” and “does your face hurt? no? well it’s hurting me.”
So I started trying to be feminine and work myself to pretty. I started plucking my eyebrows when I was 11, plucked them so thin you could hardly tell they were there. Then I drew over them in an attempt to make them look perfectly arched and defined. Then came the eyeliner - thicker every day. Within a year I was using up one stick of retractable eyeliner every 10 days. I never wore much lip gloss or lipstick, but if you’re friends with me on facebook, you might be able to catch a glimpse of how heavy my eyeliner used to get. It was ridiculous.
In ninth grade I would skip lunch and spend the entire period in the bathroom, fixing my makeup and waiting until I could go back in the halls, convinced I wasn’t pretty enough to socialize. Between sixth grade and twelfth grade, not one day went by that I didn’t wear makeup - at the very least eyeliner. It may not seem like a big deal, but I specifically remember having a “makeover party” with my friend Danielle. 
“Do you want purple eyeliner?” she asked.
“Well, I would, but I already wear black,” I replied as if her question was absurd.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s like, our base look.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Danielle and I believed that our BASE LOOK was an inch of eyeliner surrounding each eye in any direction. Base. Look. We couldn’t even imagine there being bare skin underneath it. In that case, we would be - gasp - ugly!
I was at a photography class downtown when I was about 14 or 15 and I remember a pretty, natural-faced girl leaning across the table and telling me, “You should get rid of that makeup. It kills your eyes.”
“No, it’s just my face,” I replied, totally offended. I vowed to myself to never take it off. I thought it made me pretty, even though I was not oblivious to the fact that still I wasn’t making friends.
In 10th grade I uploaded a makeup-less facebook picture with the caption, “I apologize in advance.” Friends commented telling me I was pretty even without eyeliner, but I didn’t believe it. I scoffed and returned to makeup the next morning. 
I stayed with a friend in California for several weeks in 2009 and, when leaving, on the drive to the LAX airport I realized I’d forgotten my makeup bag at my friend’s house. I was panicking, wringing my hands and hoping I’d be able to find makeup at the airport. It was an obsession. I knew how my makeup looked around my eyes without needing a mirror. I knew it was terrible, I knew my zits would show soon enough and my friends would see me as the ugly, manly sixth-grader I was inside.
We stayed in LA that night before our red eye flight in the morning and I found a Sephora on Hollywood Boulevard. I bought a $5 three inch eyeliner pencil (I hated the pencil kind, anyway) and prayed that my other friend who I was flying to Baltimore with would take me to a beauty store ASAP so I could get the rest of my essentials. I couldn’t wait for my California friend to send my makeup bag. Nope.
As soon as I got to Baltimore I demanded to go to a Sally Beauty’s Supply where I bought concealer and tweezers. Concealer and tweezers. For the one week I’d be there.
In twelfth grade, I started to realize I was being ridiculous. Petroleum oil around my eyes was not making me more beautiful. I tried uploading a youtube video without makeup, declaring to the Internet that I was going to stop wearing it. I cringed the whole time I edited it and played it back. I was back to eyeliner the next morning.
I’ve had one or two more spurts of “let’s try to go au natural!” in which I usually take a couple pictures, call it a day, and go back to makeup the next day. I started wearing even more, actually - lipstick and lipgloss and lipliner and lipeverythingyoucouldeverythinkof.
In my freshman year of college, I met some absolutely amazing people, my girlfriend Katie being the one closest to my heart. She never wore makeup, and yet she was radiantly gorgeous. My friends Olivia and Carina absolutely never wore makeup, and yet there I was with my makeup mask day in and day out. So I just stopped. One weekend in November, I just let the eyeliner fade with every shower. I couldn’t find any vegan makeup removers at the time, so it was easy to let it fade and see my face coming through, see my hazel eyes, so tiny without the black circles.
I didn’t wear makeup all through December, and so I decided I would do “No Makeup 2012”. I didn’t necessarily believe that I would not wear any makeup ever, but just that I was going to stop with the 24/7 eyeliner (I never ever took it off before bed). Now the most I do is chapstick and rare lipshine stuff. 
But I did it. Seeing my friends so naturally pretty and seeing so many girls around campus not bothering with makeup, I felt stupid wearing as much makeup as I did. So I left my makeup bag alone, although I’d still carry it around out of habit. And I went makeup free from December to today.
Last week I did a ~trial run~, where it was almost the opposite of what I used to do during my days of makeup obsession, where I’d attempt au natural. I tried to wear makeup. I’d forgotten how to even apply eyeliner when I used to be able to do it without a mirror. I felt like a drag queen. I felt pretty, but no prettier than I did than the last 10 months without makeup. I did it for a week, and I am so much more comfortable without it.
I can rub my eyes and not have smeared dirty hands, I can have conversations with people and not think, “what does my face look like? Is it decent?” 
I just don’t give a fuck anymore. My face is my face with or without being dolled up. And I am so proud of myself for being able to go back and forth without worry. 
You can still be beautiful, sexy, pretty, lovely, gorgeous, you can be YOU - without makeup.

25 September 2012

taking sides

you and i
are on different sides
you try
to make your feet rhyme with mine
from all the way over there
every time i think about it
i just
wonder
why
you make friends and i don't
but then i remember that you don't
really like your friends anyway
and if there's one thing i've learned 
in these past few years
it's 
when you complain about someone 
you can't expect the listener
to like the someone

12 September 2012

gloves

you're gonna have to wear gloves
to protect you from my storm.
you're gonna have to stand taller
to dance on my stage.
as long as you're feeling
my heart break in yours,
my words will hug each other
and teach you yours.

25 August 2012

sophomore


I’ve felt so unlike a writer recently. Wondering if it’s the right life choice for me and everything. I’ve wanted to be an author since I was in elementary school, but then I decided it was more practical to aspire to become an editor or a publisher. Apparently that’s still not very logical, but it’s just that I’m not good at anything else. I really like proofreading and giving people feedback and if that’s not what earns me money, then… I guess I just won’t be rich and that’s all there is to it. I have no regrets so far about being an English major; I just want to be the best at it that I can be. And not slack off or anything like that. If I can accomplish that then I think I’ll be happy with myself. Even though I’ll be paying off college loans for the rest of my life. But isn’t that what so many other people do? I won’t be put off from education because of a ~dark looming future~.

I’m realizing that this reflects my philosophy on pretty much everything. “That’s just the way it is.” I’m very simple in that way. I didn’t really enjoy my sociology classes for that reason – I like learning about current events and issues, but I don’t like thinking about them too much or asking why. It’s just that things will be the way things will be and we have to accept them as they are. I don’t know if that’s a particularly positive way of thinking and I’m sure I’m not making any sense, but… YOLO.

Yep. I just went there.

I’m going to be starting my sophomore year of college in a couple days and I can’t believe I just typed that. I’ve written so many online blog posts about starting the first day of a school year in a couple days and it’s just mind blowing that time goes by so quickly like that. I feel like I really haven’t even accomplished very much. 

18 July 2012

cool

i told you it was cool,
cause i wanted to shrug it off at the time.
hide behind the bushes and jump out,
"guess what? i forgive you!"
and you were proud of me, you said,
"i'm glad we're cool."

and i guess we were, we were cool.
we even shared a few words afterward.
but then the blanket of silence fell,
snow inside my head,
and i knew you never gave a damn about me
in the first place.

i know it was just an online thing,
but my heart could've sprinted a 5k
just thinking about your smile.
i wish i would've been more honest now,
told you how i'd spend a whole half hour
thinking of what to say to you.
i took it so seriously
and you probably still think we're cool -
a silent friendship,
cool.