So damn tired

Maybe it’s the dehydration. I pee next to nothing in the morning, a cup or less, but who’s measuring? My brain isn’t working right, I feel bloated, stupid, foggy, slow. My body hurts. My head hurts.

My temper is moderate. I take medicine when I remember, when I get angry, when I go through my day muttering swears and cursing everyone around me. When I remember. The swears and sotto voce name-calling are so normal now I am afraid I will say them aloud. It scares me. Who am I?

A friend going through a crazy period took refuge with his sister and her husband for a while. He turned the husband into the enemy. Nicest guy you can imagine, the enemy. Agitated incessantly, tried to turn his sister against him. Soon, of course, this had an effect. Nicest guy in the world got pisssed and started acting not so nice. What a surprise. Friend said, At least now I know who he is under his skin.

Do you? Is what someone will do pushed to extremes who they really are, under their skin?

Another friend was in a show. Another actor baited him constantly in rehearsals, calling him names.Pussy, Litte Man, Loser. Director did nothing. Directed him to stop her. Guy finally shoved her off the bar (it was a prop–show was set in a bar). She wasn’t hurt, but screamed bloody murder about abuse, called the guy’s gf and tried to enlist her. But is that really him, under his skin? He is kind, gentle, thoughtful. Driven to extremes.

She, on the other hand, that is what she is really like.

But is this is really me? This bitchy, fat, space case? Okay, I am a space case, and a slob. I can’t seem to keep things organized. But the rage, that’s a symptom. And stress will deplete your system so bad, the liver takes a hit and out comes the anger. When I am healthy, I am not like this. Maybe the other stuff is all symptoms too. So how do I get healthy? I can’t take this. I need a vacation.

The summer retreat was great–I didn’t hate anyone for a good two months after.  But that’s all worn away now. I feel fragile and teary.

It’s all got to stop. I have things to do.


Losing it…

This last weekend really took a lot out of me. I lost Sunday. I lost Monday, taking everyone to various docs (mom to doc as planned. AFTER we get home from there, where he could have easily asked someone to see him, he asks me to take him to ER. ANOTHER 3 hours lost).

I managed to get what I needed done for Tuesday, bare minimum, but done. Last night I sat on the couch after I got home while mom babbled. Now tomorrow most of the rest needs to be done.

I have one day. My brother did not go to bed until 6AM. I know, because I got up at 5. How the fuck does a guy who was so sick I had to take him to the ER get better by staying up all night? How does he take any kind of care of mom, which is his job here, when he has no sleep? I can’t do what I have to in the time I have. I can’t do it even more with her talking to me incessantly. It is not possible.

I get up in the morning and there is piss in the toilet, which is now always crusted and filthy from man-pee who doesn’t flush. I am not a housekeeper. My toilet never looked like this before. Lady pee just doesn’t have the same effect.

I just can’t fucking take this. I have to. But I can’t.

My brother has to go. But I can’t do this alone. The gal is coming from the program we applied to. If these people don’t help me, I don’t know what I am going to do.

I so want to honor her wish to stay with her family.

I need a way of managing this that keeps me balanced and sane. This constant state of stress is killing me. I have things I could do that would help (like dance), but I don’t do them. The level of inertia is staggering. I feel complicit in my own suffering. It’s a horrible feedback loop. I need help, god. I do. Please help me. Soon.

The semester ends on Friday.  This episode will be over, for better or worse. But there’s just going to be another one after that.

The chaos is never going to stop. It’s inside me.

I have to stop.




Like all the other posts are not venting.

Today all three of us have infected teeth. How do 3 people have infected teeth all at the same time? My brother’s been so sick for two days that I couldn’t go to work today. He went upstairs to lie down and passed out on the landing (thankfully didn’t fall down the stairs).

Unfortunately, I have to grade 43 portfolios before Tuesday. Today is Sunday. They take not less than 15 – 30 min each. Math not your strong suit? That’s 11-20 hours of hardcore focus. I have none. Plus I need a lot of space to do this (at work I take up two full size desks), and there is no suitable space at home.

So I am now sitting next to my mom, who is babbling constantly, even though I have put on music she likes. I will have to put on an old movie to hold her attention.

So that’s my day.

It will be over soon enough. But it sucks today.

Thanks for reading. I hope your day is a little better.

Pride Week

So, if you have been hanging on for the last however many months waiting to hear what happened next, I had a convo w my BF, re-established that what we did apart from each other was up to us, and got a girlfriend. Because, it must be said, that getting another man just spelled TROUBLE, in big bold letters.

I really do believe that men can smell each other on you, even if it has been a month and several showers later; that he was more concerned that someone else would have a bigger, harder dick and he just didn’t want to hear about it; that, too often, men want to own you (or you want them to); and that, when it comes right down to the motherfucking wire, that he would think me having a GF was hot, but me having another guy would be NOT. Some thing are too easily broken and impossible to fix. 

And sure, you can argue all you want that I gotta do what I need to be me, but in this case, that’s what I hadda do. And things might, of course, change; and I am down with that. For now, this works. Pretty well. For everyone. So I am now officially a Hot Bi Babe. If you don’t like it, get the fuck over it–it’s PRIDE WEEK!

My new GF is a stone lesbian, and a stellar human being. She has gallantly dealt with being a part-time (sometimes very part-time) GF, with honor and honesty. Refreshing.  And she likes buying me dinner. And the sex is fantastic. Woo-hoo!

On the plus side, I had recognized before I met her that I am indeed bisexual and polyamorous by nature.

On the minus side, I have not introduced her to anyone as my GF, and have told only a few ppl. I also asked her to keep it on the DL.

Now, there are several reasons for this. One is that I have a horror of being the object of gossip.

Two is that my BF said he didn’t want to know, and I want to honor his request. I have noticed ppl seem to have a driving need to tell others anything that might possibly hurt their feelings because they “deserve to know.” Excuse me? (It is true I did tell one friend that her man was wandering. I agonized over this for quite a while before doing it.  I finally decided she would want to know. She did. He was furious with me for not telling him first. He was right to be).

Three is, I don’t want to have the conversation, OK? I doubt that anyone will disown me for going both ways, and the majority of my friends really will not give a fuck. I also assume that little by little it will creep into their consciousness, and I will not have to discuss it–it will suddenly just be something they have always known. But if anyone is homophobic enough to think I might be now hitting on them, or staring at their tits, or whatever (and I am often in rooms full of naked women), I just don’t want to deal with it.

Four is, my orientation is my business. It’s a need-to-know basis. I don’t see that many ppl I want to fuck. Some of them are women. If I am interested in you, then you might need to know. Otherwise, you don’t. When asked, say on a survey, I put bisexual. There is never a box for monogamous / polyamorous, however. Tsk tsk.

So those are my excuses, um, reasons,  for not being a big hero with the coming out. I apologized to her, and she just waved her hand and said she did not need to make her personal life a political statement. Someone asked her when they could meet me. She said, “She doesn’t meet people. She comes over; we stay home and have sex.” She says she is grateful we get to have uncomplicated sex, since she usually dates straight girls and there is often a lot of conflict.

Which brings me to feminism (warning: soapbox ahead).

I went to the feminist GA last night in NYC. While I do know that many ppl are leery of the term feminist, b/c it brings to mind images of Andrea Dworkin insisting that any sex act not initiated by a woman is rape (does that mean one woman can not rape another?), I was surprised (and not a little annoyed) to hear that some so-called activists find the term Sisterhood unacceptable and exclusive. Also, The War on Women.  And even the word feminist. AND that some people still think staying home and raising your own children is UNfeminist. Occupy motherhood, people! One gal went on for a long time about how it pissed her off when men younger than she (specifically in Occupy) addressed her as Dear. She was not dear to them, she didn’t know them, so where did they come off?!

It saddens me to think that someone who identifies as a big feminist from way back should not understand that language is a container. It wasn’t dear that she objected to, it was the condescending disempowerment with which the word was filled.

One woman said that the word she got the most flack for was patriarchy. See above, re: condescending disempowerment. Fuck patriarchy. Smash patriarchy. Not that matriarchy is any better. See above, snotty, controlling, female-bodied activists. The extent to which we have ALL (male and female) been damaged by this paradigm is inherently hidden from us (you can’t see it until you see it, and there is always another layer to the onion). Feminism means that women are the social, economic, and political equals of men. Not better; not worse. Not more, not less. Raising your own children can be feminist idealism OR patriarchal subjugation; so can getting a job, not having kids, or getting an abortion–particularly if some man insists you do whatever.

I am pretty sick and tired of all of it, matriarchy, patriarchy, and all of those archies. I’m pretty tired of bossy people thinking they have the right to tell me what to do and how to think. More and more I am favoring ANarchy–which, in case you have been misinformed, does not mean No Rules, it means No Rulers.

Though, jeez, some of those anarchists are pretty controlling and annoying too. So I don’t know where we go from here. Ideas?






Redefining myself. Accepting power. Existing in compassion.


Things are changing. An update follows.


Posted Decision Made, and within an hour the phone rings. Amazing.


I have a crush on a guy.
He wears beads in his hair. He’s skinny, smart, funny, and hot. He a flashy dresser in an offbeat artistic kind of way, Hawaiian shirt and a long black skirt. He works at the health food store. So he has no money. It finally occurred to me that no straight guy has that much fashion sense, either. We have almost never spoken. I don’t know his name. He is my no-anxiety sex fantasy, someone I can imagine happily with no reality, no real-life drama of disappointments and complicated emotional trauma.

The other day I said, “If you are ever straight and single, call me.” And I gave him my card. He beamed. I left. I hope I haven’t ruined my one reliable fantasy.

I don’t meet many people with whom I have the slightest chemistry. Like, few. So this is important. But I don’t know what I want. Technically, someone to hang out with and have sex, a fuck-buddy, if you will. I am rotting here, going to waste. It causes me acute pain to waste my last few years of sexual desirability in virtual celibacy. What is the point of having a boyfriend if you never even get to cuddle, much less get laid? We have this “don’t ask, don’t tell” clause for the time we are apart. But the question is, can I maintain multiple relationships without becoming a pool of anxious guilt? Can I have a straight-up casual sex relationship? Maybe several?

Good questions. We’ll see what happens.


Between us, who is innocent?

We orbit endlessly, twin suns,  resenting each the other’s gravity,

Yet drawn, despite our best intentions, to the fire.

What bliss, to hurtle, finally, unencumbered, into the heart of flame.

Alas, it brings destruction.

From the safety of our distance, we cajole, advance, retreat,

Tease and threaten, snipe, attack, defend, and lick our wounds.


And again,

And again.