Twitter is nice, but every now and then I really need to write something longer than a status update. So I think I'll keep writing here from time to time even if it's just me.
I just finished reading a book for my Children as Readers class called "Annie on My Mind" by Nancy Garden and it was excellent. It's been a long time since I've been so moved my a book - it almost made me cry at the end.
It's a love story about two young women in the 70s and of course it becomes more than a love story because they have to deal with all the shit they take for being gay and it was just very very sad, but also sort of inspiring. It was almost sadder for having a happy ending because it drove the point home that being gay is like a battle you fight your whole life. And no matter what you do or how good you are or how kind you are or how hard you try, there will always be people who will hate you just for who you are.
And I guess being black is the same way. Or being in any minority that people are bigoted about. And I think I never really got that, or I've never had it driven home so succinctly. I hate having people dislike me or hate me. But I'm a white straight male, and so I know that people will mostly hate me for what I do, for things I have a choice about. But if I had to live my life knowing that a lot of people, people I would have to live with and deal with, would hate me, my whole life, for something I had no choice about, something essential and defining of who I was, I don't know what I'd do.
With racial minorities there's less of a choice: you have to bare it and learn somehow to live with it. But to be gay is to be faced with the choice of pretending your whole life to be something you're not because people will accept the person you're pretending to be, or living honestly, knowing you'll be met with the hatred and the disdain and, perhaps worst of all, the sympathy and efforts to "cure" you, and that would be a really lousy choice to make, and it gives me a lot of admiration for my open gay friends - and empathy for my closeted ones.
I'm really happy that things have improved a lot since the 70s. I know that as long as good people fight the good fight they'll continue improving. But I hope people will keep reading and writing good fiction about gay people, because this book really opened my eyes in a way I hadn't been willing to admit they needed to be opened.
25 February 2010
14 September 2009
Reinvention
A lot can happen in 5 months.
I spent the summer in New Mexico trying to find myself. I don't know if I did. I don't really like the image the phrase evokes, honestly. Trying to find yourself by looking outward is sort of silly. It's like when you're trying to do a headcount of a group and you keep coming up one short and finally you realize you're not counting yourself, because you can't see yourself. You can look and look and finally realize you're not finding yourself, because you're on the other side of your eyes.
What I really was working on was finding everything else, and then figuring out how I fit into it, and how I wanted to fit into it, and how I could fit into it differently.
I did a lot of crazy things and I did a lot of thinking. I met a lot of people and learned about their lives and experiences. I had some experiences of my own that were eye-opening or spiritual in different ways. I really should have been blogging.
I guess it's obvious that all of this soul-searching was spurred by Saralyn. Like it or not, she sort of shattered my world, and I realized I had an opportunity to put it back together again however I wanted. So I've been tinkering.
I realized if I wanted to seize the moment to reinvent myself, the beginning of the year, of Senior Year, was the time. I shaved my head and got a new and fairly different pair of glasses, and conciously decided to reinvent myself: bolder, more confident, more unapologetic.
I know what you're thinking
"He never had a problem with confidence before. If anything he was kind of an egotistical bastard."
But anyone who is an egotistical bastard knows the secret: that it betrays a lack of confidence as sure as stuttering and hiding from cameras does. I've been substituting faux confidence for the real deal for years.
This was about shedding the faux-confidence. And it was about shedding some of the ridiculousness, too. Years ago, when I started wearing silly clothes and putting a spoon behind my ear (Some of y'all remember) it was about telling the world "I'm me; deal with it!" But just like the faux-confidence, it was a mask. The real message was "This, these clothes and quirks and oddities, this is me. Deal with that and leave me alone."
This time I'm doing the same thing, but I'm doing it right. It's not even "This is me, deal with it." It's just "This is me."
This is me, Jonah Comstock.
Because this is the beginning of the end of trial runs.
Because next year we're headed to the real world.
Because, though I don't know what I'm going to do or what my life is going to look like,
though I don't have a plan and I don't have a safety net,
I at least know who I'm going to be.
I'm going to be myself, trust my instincts, be confident without being arrogant, and let the world take me as I am.
This is me.
World, look out.
I spent the summer in New Mexico trying to find myself. I don't know if I did. I don't really like the image the phrase evokes, honestly. Trying to find yourself by looking outward is sort of silly. It's like when you're trying to do a headcount of a group and you keep coming up one short and finally you realize you're not counting yourself, because you can't see yourself. You can look and look and finally realize you're not finding yourself, because you're on the other side of your eyes.
What I really was working on was finding everything else, and then figuring out how I fit into it, and how I wanted to fit into it, and how I could fit into it differently.
I did a lot of crazy things and I did a lot of thinking. I met a lot of people and learned about their lives and experiences. I had some experiences of my own that were eye-opening or spiritual in different ways. I really should have been blogging.
I guess it's obvious that all of this soul-searching was spurred by Saralyn. Like it or not, she sort of shattered my world, and I realized I had an opportunity to put it back together again however I wanted. So I've been tinkering.
I realized if I wanted to seize the moment to reinvent myself, the beginning of the year, of Senior Year, was the time. I shaved my head and got a new and fairly different pair of glasses, and conciously decided to reinvent myself: bolder, more confident, more unapologetic.
I know what you're thinking
"He never had a problem with confidence before. If anything he was kind of an egotistical bastard."
But anyone who is an egotistical bastard knows the secret: that it betrays a lack of confidence as sure as stuttering and hiding from cameras does. I've been substituting faux confidence for the real deal for years.
This was about shedding the faux-confidence. And it was about shedding some of the ridiculousness, too. Years ago, when I started wearing silly clothes and putting a spoon behind my ear (Some of y'all remember) it was about telling the world "I'm me; deal with it!" But just like the faux-confidence, it was a mask. The real message was "This, these clothes and quirks and oddities, this is me. Deal with that and leave me alone."
This time I'm doing the same thing, but I'm doing it right. It's not even "This is me, deal with it." It's just "This is me."
This is me, Jonah Comstock.
Because this is the beginning of the end of trial runs.
Because next year we're headed to the real world.
Because, though I don't know what I'm going to do or what my life is going to look like,
though I don't have a plan and I don't have a safety net,
I at least know who I'm going to be.
I'm going to be myself, trust my instincts, be confident without being arrogant, and let the world take me as I am.
This is me.
World, look out.
31 May 2009
28 May 2009
Only thing to do is jump over the moon!
Aaaaand the long silence is broken! I'm still "working" (procrastinating) on a paper, my last paper that I got an extention on, but.
Last week I was "working" at Hanover. I got to hang out with all of my friends there and go to their graduation, which yeah, did kind of make me cry when we were singing the Alma Mater. AND I got to go up in the clock tower of Parker Auditorium, which I'd never done, and it was spectacular. I felt like Lyra at Oxford or something. The view was great. Unlike the last time I visited, this felt like a very closure-y trip. When I visited in February, it was like Hanover was still my home and I just hadn't been there in a long time. This time, maybe because most of the people I love there were gearing up to leave, it felt less like that, and more like just a nice place that I'll always hold dear to my heart, but which isn't really mine anymore. It was a good thing, I think.
I also got to show off, on that trip, my Naboo blaster that I got over spring break when I went to the Party City with Michael to get things that glow for his brother's rave that didn't happen. It was just sitting in the costume section as though I hadn't been keeping an eye out for one of those since 2005. It sounds like a duck. When I brought it home from the Party City, Michael and I had to break in to my house because I didn't have my keys, and I was sure a neighbor was going to think I was armed-robbing myself.
Now I'm working on this paper which is due June 1st. It's supposed to be, I think, 25 pages long. I'm going to start the actual writing tonight. This week has been pretty much me researching Emily Dickinson every hour I'm awake, and it's driving me a little stir-crazy.
And I CANNOT STOP LISTENING TO RENT, OMG.
I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm mentally rebelling against my work. But I found the full Broadway soundtrack on the YouTube (I only have "highlights" on CD), and have been listening to it over and over and over, and am probably about to listen to it again. It started with a quick listen to "La Vie Boheme" and "Over the Moon." "Over the Moon" is a song which, under normal circumstances, I find kind of annoying, but when I'm writing papers, it suddenly becomes hilarious and wonderful. Perhaps it expresses my innermost desires ("IIIIIIIIII GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!"). At least my innermost desire to scream ("IIIIIIIIII've GOTTA GOTTA GOTTA GOTTA..."). I'm going to have to learn all the words. I've decided that Maureen is my favorite. If I could sing, that's a part I'd want to play. You may tease me about this at your leisure the next time you see me.
I support the Paul Newman Memorial Salad Bar.
Last week I was "working" at Hanover. I got to hang out with all of my friends there and go to their graduation, which yeah, did kind of make me cry when we were singing the Alma Mater. AND I got to go up in the clock tower of Parker Auditorium, which I'd never done, and it was spectacular. I felt like Lyra at Oxford or something. The view was great. Unlike the last time I visited, this felt like a very closure-y trip. When I visited in February, it was like Hanover was still my home and I just hadn't been there in a long time. This time, maybe because most of the people I love there were gearing up to leave, it felt less like that, and more like just a nice place that I'll always hold dear to my heart, but which isn't really mine anymore. It was a good thing, I think.
I also got to show off, on that trip, my Naboo blaster that I got over spring break when I went to the Party City with Michael to get things that glow for his brother's rave that didn't happen. It was just sitting in the costume section as though I hadn't been keeping an eye out for one of those since 2005. It sounds like a duck. When I brought it home from the Party City, Michael and I had to break in to my house because I didn't have my keys, and I was sure a neighbor was going to think I was armed-robbing myself.
Now I'm working on this paper which is due June 1st. It's supposed to be, I think, 25 pages long. I'm going to start the actual writing tonight. This week has been pretty much me researching Emily Dickinson every hour I'm awake, and it's driving me a little stir-crazy.
And I CANNOT STOP LISTENING TO RENT, OMG.
I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm mentally rebelling against my work. But I found the full Broadway soundtrack on the YouTube (I only have "highlights" on CD), and have been listening to it over and over and over, and am probably about to listen to it again. It started with a quick listen to "La Vie Boheme" and "Over the Moon." "Over the Moon" is a song which, under normal circumstances, I find kind of annoying, but when I'm writing papers, it suddenly becomes hilarious and wonderful. Perhaps it expresses my innermost desires ("IIIIIIIIII GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!"). At least my innermost desire to scream ("IIIIIIIIII've GOTTA GOTTA GOTTA GOTTA..."). I'm going to have to learn all the words. I've decided that Maureen is my favorite. If I could sing, that's a part I'd want to play. You may tease me about this at your leisure the next time you see me.
I support the Paul Newman Memorial Salad Bar.
26 May 2009
25 May 2009
I will not be a game piece.
I've been at Timberlake Playhouse for almost a week, now, and things have been going pretty well. I was able to pull a rehearsal prop for pretty much anything that could possibly be needed, and I have a definite start on actual things. I'm pretty sure I can be completely done in seven days, in which case I can either take a few days break or get a start on the next show. The tech staff is pretty cool, and since the actors got here, we've holed ourselves up in ASM's cabin every night to avoid the loud, drunk, and annoying. We successfully taught the ASM to play euchre, and she took to it better than anyone I've ever taught, which is exciting. She gets great enjoyment from the milking part of the game. Also, there is a cat, and he loves me as every cat does. If any props don't get built, it will be his fault. Everyone calls him something different, so I just call him cat. I get no workable signal out here, and Claire doesn't get any internet yet, so that's lame. I'm going to start writing letters. Not just to her, though; I'll write Jonah, too, and might write home, I dunno.
I'm basically my own boss; I'm the department head, but I'm also the entire department, so I'm basically a disembodied department head. It's cool most of the time, but sometimes I miss just having assignments handed to me to blindly follow. Research has been fun, and I'm going to build some cool things, like a portable record player. Nathan, I'll probably need that pie formula. Hm. There were other things when I thought about posting earlier today, but just now I can't think of them.
19 May 2009
In which Jonah is emo, but mostly over it
So I think I'm doing ok. If I'm to be perfectly honest, I think my relationship with Saralyn ended up being a smidge codependent at the end. For better or for worse, the process of getting over her has been a process of discovering a new life - one where the default setting is individualism. I love individualism conceptually, but practically, in my life, I love to be part of a team, couple, or community. I don't like time by myself. And lately, especially since Wooster let out, I've been by myself a lot. You have to be very delusional to think Twitter helps - so far Twitter seems a lot like yelling at the darkness to me.
Anyway, it's given me time to think about Saralyn and about me and my life and my priorities, and I'm thinking I'm ok. Maybe I'm not as old and grown-up and mature as I wanted to think I was and maybe that's alright. Maybe I should enjoy the one year I have left to be a college student, and if that involves another relationship, so be it. But I am not letting myself be tied down to her. A break up is a break up and however much it sucks it has to really be over or else it sucks for nothing. So after a brief and foolish foray with phone calls I decided to make a clean break. I told Saralyn I couldn't be with her, I couldn't be friends with her, and I couldn't even be in a place where we know we'll be friends eventually. And unfriended her on facebook, which, I know is controversial, but, well, I just couldn't handle it.
So, I am going to Ghost Ranch, New Mexico in two weeks for a summer job. I'm going to be working in a tiny coffee shop and hopefully communing with nature and Kierkegaard. (My I.S. is going to be on Kierkegaard and I'm hoping to get some research done during the summer.) So I'm hoping whatever lingering post-breakup angst or ennui can be worked off over the summer. I'm really excited about the chance to just go somewhere new and do something crazy. In the meantime, there's a wedding to get through, preparations, packing, and shopping.
By the way, Ghost Ranch is low on cell phone service or internet, so I probably won't get to blog much and I'll be hard to reach. I am going to post a snail mail address on facebook.
I support the Paul Newman Memorial Salad Bar.
Anyway, it's given me time to think about Saralyn and about me and my life and my priorities, and I'm thinking I'm ok. Maybe I'm not as old and grown-up and mature as I wanted to think I was and maybe that's alright. Maybe I should enjoy the one year I have left to be a college student, and if that involves another relationship, so be it. But I am not letting myself be tied down to her. A break up is a break up and however much it sucks it has to really be over or else it sucks for nothing. So after a brief and foolish foray with phone calls I decided to make a clean break. I told Saralyn I couldn't be with her, I couldn't be friends with her, and I couldn't even be in a place where we know we'll be friends eventually. And unfriended her on facebook, which, I know is controversial, but, well, I just couldn't handle it.
So, I am going to Ghost Ranch, New Mexico in two weeks for a summer job. I'm going to be working in a tiny coffee shop and hopefully communing with nature and Kierkegaard. (My I.S. is going to be on Kierkegaard and I'm hoping to get some research done during the summer.) So I'm hoping whatever lingering post-breakup angst or ennui can be worked off over the summer. I'm really excited about the chance to just go somewhere new and do something crazy. In the meantime, there's a wedding to get through, preparations, packing, and shopping.
By the way, Ghost Ranch is low on cell phone service or internet, so I probably won't get to blog much and I'll be hard to reach. I am going to post a snail mail address on facebook.
I support the Paul Newman Memorial Salad Bar.
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