save it for your ivillage blog, lemon

Today is the last day of 2008. It doesn't really feel that big or important this year because I'm in that place where everything is kind of normal and even and steady and non-dramatic and maybe even boring (in a good way). I got the tumult over with a few months ago.

I did the death/rebirth thing already this year. I feel kind of like I am coasting right now. I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing. I don't think I am stagnating. Krystal says I am not stagnating.

Things just are, and I am just doing. I don't know how else to say it.

And, I mean, maybe parts of me are hibernating, but only because they need to be. Specifically, in this case, the hibernating parts are my artistic self and my romantic (I don't know if that's exactly the right word, but I'm just going to roll with it) self. Both of these selves are still really hurt and scared and have cocooned, I guess. How does one go about coaxing them back into the sunlight?

The art part is most troubling to me because the whole school-falling-through thing happened two and a half years ago. I have to figure out how to heal that wound, and it is significant. I still feel it. It's like a death. I guess of part of myself. And my job is to Lazarus it.

So that's fun. I'll figure it out, though. It's what I do.

Merry New Year's to the two people who read this blog.

what's with all the christmastime homophobia?

First there was Rick Warren being not only homophobic, but a pervy skeezbag as well. (Video here. Transcript here.) Especially the part where he says "I'm naturally inclined to have sex with every beautiful woman I see." Susie Bright thinks he's going to be involved in a sex-with-hookers type scandal (her blog entry here). I hope so. I hope he get's caught fucking an underage male prostitute. That's poetic justice.

Anyway... I don't care how much money Rick fucking Warren has given to charity or whatever Purpose Driven bullshit he's involved in, I think he's a disgusting piece of shit. Just watch the video, I'm sure you'll agree. I also forgive Obama for having him speak at his inauguration. There will come a time when homophobia is as culturally distasteful and unacceptable as racism. We're getting there, I think, slowly but surely.

And then there's the fucking Pope, who I have always disliked. In his holiday address this year he said that defending humanity from homosexuality is as important as defending the rainforest from destruction. (Article from The Guardian.) Isn't that nice? I mean, I know it's not a surprise that the Pope is a conservative asshole, but still, I can be mad about it. Xmas is supposed to be about peace and love, not bigotry and bullshit.

Ugh. I know it's just backlash. And all this loudness is just a death knell for those fuckers. I get it. But, fuck. It's fucking Christmas.

This is not what Jesus had in mind, not at all. Sometimes I wonder if all these Christians actually know of Jesus, really. Like, maybe they have him confused with someone else. Like, maybe little Agnostic Natalie is more of a Christian than they will ever be and how sad must that be for them because they know it in the deepest part of their hateful little hearts.

Sigh.

when i was just a little boy i threw away all my action toys

Andrea and Dave got this for Kobi:

It is called a Roboraptor. It is a combination of the two greatest things on earth: robots and dinosaurs. It is really cute and it walks around and makes noises. I think Kobi will like it.

Dave loves that kid so much. It breaks my heart that Kobi's mom is trying to keep him away from Dave. He had to send Kobi his Christmas presents in the mail. I wish we could get Dave a lawyer for Christmas.

Oh, dads. My dad sent me $100, like he does. And a Christmas card with an angel on it. The kind you get in a pack of 50 and send to all your relatives and friends you kind of care about. So... Yeah. Merry Christmas. My relationship with my dad is so fucked. His lackluster efforts to communicate with me really make me not want to talk to him at all. And then on the rare occasions we do talk it's either neutral to awkward, or really, really bad.

I don't know why the card and $100 depresses me so. Probably because it is a sorry excuse for the love that I've always really wanted from him. Definitely because of that. And because it's so fucking Catholic, which is Rosie's influence. (She probably bought the cards. And the stamps that have Mary and the baby Jesus on them.) So my nonreligious father is off in Catholicland sharing his meager love and affection with his new (read better) family. The normal ones who are average (read stupid) and all have bastard children to fill his pretty house with.

Which came first, him rejecting us or us rejecting him? Who wins in this situation? Sounds like no one does. Except maybe I do. I win my life that I love. I win my sister, alive for now, happy, watching movies and dancing with the robot dinosaur. (It was an adorable sight to behold. I' m sorry you had to miss it.)

My dad is limited. He does okay in his way. But I know it is better for me and my sister to not be around him because he is not healthy and because he will never live up to the fantasy. It still feels like a failure on my part. I didn't try hard enough. Except that I did. I tried so many times for years and years to make it work and sometimes you just have to cut your losses. And move on. But that is so hard.

And there is a difference between saying you love someone and acting like you do. I know this in the core of me. And you can love someone but not know how to love them. Or you can love someone and not know how not to hurt them. And maybe you don't even know how you have hurt them because you do not have the capacity to understand.

And I can know that no matter how much someone loves me or claims to love me or is supposed to love me, that they are not good for my soul, which means I have to do that loving goodbye thing where I keep a sorrowful distance and live my life and keep myself safe. And I do that.

But Christmas brings things up. I am not starved of love. Not this year. Not anymore.

i am an all powerful amazon warrior
not just some sniveling girl
so no matter what i think i need
you know i can't possibly
have a need in this world

she's a cotton-candy cadillac driven by abraham lincoln with a beard made out of diamonds

Ah. Ten minutes of work left. And Monday is the Xmas Breakfast. I am bringing Crockpot oatmeal. It is going to be awesome. Loverly, loverly.

Tonight is a housewarming. Saturday is Andrea's birthday tamale-party. Sunday is Ornaments II: The Revenge.

Hot Christmas! I am in the Xmas mood today.

My sister is here to pick me up. I feel good.

Bye, suckers!

hot christmas!

Last night was Part 1 of the ornament party and it was completely awesome. We made some really sweet construction-paper ornaments and watched A Christmas Story and drank eggnog and this wintertime beer called Ebenezer. It was awesomesauce and funtimes.

Part 2 will be on Sunday. I am excited to make more. Yay.

Xmas is next week, kittens. Isn't that fucked? (I say "Xmas" instead of "Christmas" because on at least two separate occasions I saw or heard something about "Put the Christ back in Christmas," or "In Christmas, Christ comes first," or some such bullshit. Fuck that. It's Xmas, now.)

I hope your hearts are filled with Xmas joy. I know mine is. I have a heart on for Xmas.

And I will continue to call it Xmas until I forget and call it Christmas. It really is not that big of a deal. Still, though. Let's all try and take the "Christ" out of Christmas.

ornament party

Tonight is the ornament party!

And I only have 30 min. of work left. Then I will be off to Target for supplies and then on to Krys' for the ornamentstravaganza!!!

I am so excited.

Yay!

if looks could kill, you'd be an uzi

which one of you jerks poured coffee in my hat?

I think I am supposed to make a list of ten little-known facts about myself. I thought about it a lot while I was taking a shower this morning, so, here goes.

1. Sometimes when I yawn I sound like Chewbacca.

2. I wear a grocery sack on my head when I shower to keep my hair from getting wet.

3. I love the song "American Pie."

4. I go to bed really early.

5. My all-time favorite Disney movie is Sleeping Beauty.

6. I am philosophically against hair removal, but I shave my armpit hair and pluck stray chin-hairs because they gross me out.

7. I like the same Australian lesbian porn as Emily's husband (common law) Jim.

8. Large cities scare the shit out of me.

9. I have a deviated septum and a polyp in one of my nasal sinuses.

10. I was admitted psych inpatient once (in a scared straight sort of way) and it was horrible.

The end.

merry sinus infection

I'm sick and I hate it.

I'm going home and going to sleep.

christmas thoughts

So. I love my family, mostly. But I really don't want to see my dad for Christmas this year.

I'm hoping it'll be like last year and he'll want to just be with his new family and he'll have too much back pain to drive down here. Because I'm tired of trying to make it work with him. I hate going to visit my country grandparents and feeling like a fucking martian. I love my grandparents a lot. I just don't have anything to say to them.

They don't live in the same world I live in. It's like whenever I am around them I am constantly reminded of this vision of "normalcy" that I will never live up to. This phenomenon is magnified with my dad, who I want to see even less than my grandparents. And it's not that I don't want to see them, it's that I don't want to feel the sick-in-my-bones feeling I get when I visit.

I've talked about that feeling before. I try to avoid it at as much as possible. I don't think anyone, ever, should have to feel that. Even if it means eschewing familial obligations.

I hate that word, obligation. It implies that you owe people (in this case, your family) something, and I am of the school that you don't owe shit to anyone, especially not your parents. I do things for my close family and friends because I love them and helping them makes me feel good. It is enriching. Obligation does not drive me. Not in the least.

But. I do, at times, feel the pull of the family obligation. I think it's bullshit though because seeing my dad's side most often leaves me feeling empty, drained, sick, not-good. Mostly because of my dad. And then I feel guilty because as much as I see them (which is never) is all I can handle of them. So where does that leave obligation? Fucked. Which is right where it needs to be.

It makes me sad, the whole mess. The fact that my dad sucks and will never be Mr. Rogers or my old Psychiatrist or anyone besides someone who gives me money sometimes and activates my anger a lot. And I am ok with that, to a point. I try and have this superficial-type relationship with him. Talk to him on the phone occasionally, tell him I'm doing good in school, ask him about the weather in New Mexico (seriously). And I let go of so fucking much to be able to do that. But guess who lets go of nothing? Him. Like all that bullshit with the Presidential Elections and his insistence upon talking fucking politics with me. I've known for years that the last thing I would ever want to do is talk about

And my sister hasn't talked to him in two years, except for the time he came to Tulsa and we surprised her at work.

So what do I do with all that? I mean, shit. I try to have sympathy for him because I know he misses us and feels guilty about not being more present in our lives. But he shouldn't feel guilty because I consider his absence, sadly, a gift.

So, yeah. Layers. Upon layers.

things i like (in no particular order)

Beer

Ani DiFranco

Blogs

The Office

Mary Jane

Bitch Magazine

NPR

30 Rock

Dinosaur Comics

Your mom

Being around books all the time

Audre Lorde

Heartbreaking novels

Gauges (as in ear gauges)

Krystal

Polaroids

My SX-70 Sonar (which I can't get film for anymore *single tear*)

Cameras

Robots

Coffee from a French press

Sweaters

Ellen

Netflix

Good art

Design

Andrew Bird

Blue Dome Diner

Beads for my hair

My tattoos

Early mornings when the stars are out

Iron & Wine

Barbecues

Pay day

Epiphanies

My friends

My immediate family

Sam Cooke

Utne Reader

Barack Obama

My mom's cooking

My sister's cooking

J.A.D. (trifecta!)

Inside jokes

Outside jokes

Robert and Shana Parkeharrison

NOTCOT.org

Funtimes

T-Rex puppets

Goofy 80's music (sung with gusto)

Margaret Cho

Not going to church

Baby Mama

Wikipedia

Fat animals

The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint

Being a snarky shithead

why i fail at being gay, again

Yesterday was Day Without a Gay:

And I, of course, had no idea. Lameness.

I also missed Human Rights Day, which was yesterday.

i made that class my bitch

I got my grade today for ASL 1. I totally rocked that class to pieces. I got 387.8 points out of 390 possible points, which is a 99.4%. This makes me very happy. I did all my homework and only missed one class (and that was for the Deaf, Deaf World thing in Stillwater). I am so proud of me.

Yay!

I even felt kind of sad this morning that I don't have class today. I like class.

But now I get to rest and get good and bored so I will be ready when next semester starts. That is my plan, anyway.

On an unrelated note, I was going to go back and find my New Year's Resolution blog from last year but I decided that would be a bad idea because even though I'm sure my resolutions were good I don't need to be going back to that headspace I was in a year ago. I am a different person now. I don't know that Natalie anymore, which is weird but completely true.

Anyway. Going back to school-related stuff, fucking TCC still hasn't processed my financial aid and I am really pissed about it. Those bastards. Every time I call them they're just like, "You just have to wait..." I'm tired of fucking waiting. They should not still be processing shit for a semester that is over in two days. That is ridiculous. I don't even care about this semester. I want to know about next semester. Ugh. Whatever. It'll all work out. Somehow.

montezuma's revenge

So. Krystal and I had a long talk about how we are too fucking old to be pulling shit like we did on Sunday night. And on a fucking Sunday, the lord's day. Come on.

And I am usually such a prude. I usually have a couple beers and then I say, "Oh, no more for me, thank you. I'm driving." That totally did not happen last night. That Natalie stayed home on Sunday. She went to bed early like she usually does, which left early-20's self-destructive Natalie in charge. The same Natalie who drank too much rum a lot. The same Natalie who gave herself a black eye when she drank a bottle of Cruzan and then fell into the sink. The same Natalie who puked in the planter outside of Caz's. Yikes...

I feel like, for me, there is always a reason why I overdrink. There is always some kind of anxiety or tension or fear or something that I am trying to kill with liquor. So what emotions was I trying to drown on Sunday?

I think it probably has to do with Jenga. And by that I mean it has to do with my perceptions about my life, my very tenuous stability (which is an oxymoron and kind of doesn't make sense except in my head).

And maybe also it's weird to be friends with fancy South Tulsa people, even though it's not really like that. They are cool people who happen to live in South Tulsa.

And maybe also I have a really hard time saying "no," so of course I'll have another shot if you set it right in front of me. (This is my problem, not yours, obviously.)

I don't even like liquor. It tastes awful. I love beer though. It is delicious and my favorite. So I think the healthy thing for me is to mainly stick to good old beer, and save the liquor for the fancy people who actually like to drink it.

Also maybe I should relax a little.

being hung over is like winning the lottery, except they pay you in regret

Okay. So last night Krystal and I got really drunk at Emily's house. It was fun, but we hit it way too hard way too fast. And now I feel like a pile of crap because, apparently, my alcohol tolerance is very, very low.

So... Let's dissect the evening, see how and why it went awry. Now, I'm not saying it wasn't fun, because it was, but Krystal and I drank way, way too much.

We started out catch-up drinking because Emily and Jim were already a bit drunk when we arrived. We had two or three shots of Jaeger really quickly. That was probably not the best idea.

Then, after we ran out of Jaeger, we started drinking double-shots of shit tequila. I will repeat. Double-shots. Of shit tequila. 4 each. I believe this is where we went wrong. I know this is where we went wrong.

I'm not going to reinstate beer-only, but, believe me, I thought about it this morning when I woke up. Blarg.

But. We had fun in Emily's fancy South Tulsa house. And I got a T-Rex puppet. I made him say "Hot Crackers!" a lot. And then I got droopy and used him as a pillow. He is in my car right now with my nerdy camera t-shirt that Jim got me. I think I might have to wear it tomorrow.

I need to remind myself that this awful hangover is my own fault and it's just what happens when you drink poison: your body makes you pay for it. Last night reminded me why I don't drink very often.

Let this be a lesson to all of you: if you go to Emily's house, she'll try to kill you with alcohol.

No. I'm kidding. The real lesson is don't drink so fucking much on a Sunday when you have to be at work at 7 the next morning.

p.s. We may have taken mustache pics last night.

nov 4, 2008

I promise I will get lyrics up as soon as I can.

there's nothing like seeing your own history in the faces of your friends

I'm going to get kind of gay, here, as I am wont to do. Just thought I should give fair warning...

Last night I had girl dinner and it was wonderful. I feel so alive when I am with Krystal and Emily. Especially the two of them together. It's kind of magical. I don't know if I have ever met people who live life more fully than those two (with the exception of my mother and sister, who laugh big, talk big, and love big).

It is amazing how infectious life is. It seeps into your skin and washes away your weariness, to be around people who know how to be fully alive, who know how to feel things, who know that feeling things is a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

There is also something amazing about an involuntary smile that won't go away and makes your jaw hurt a bit. A real smile. Not a fake smile that feels sick and is only with your mouth and not your eyes.

I went to bed last night so happy and woke energized. I thought, "How lucky I am, to have such friends as these."

I think that I have never been happier in my life. I am completely serious. I am healthy (in the holistic, real, listening-to-yourself way). For once in my life I am not starving. No false shortages. No real shortages. I may not have everything, but I have enough of what I really need (support, love, friendship, funtimes, rest-times, mind-expanding times).

Sometimes I wonder, "How is this my life?" How did I get here? After all the shit and ridiculousness and unhealthy people and soul-killing compromises and self-harm and self-loathing, how the fuck did I end up here? Here, in my body and mind and Self I am learning to love and embrace unconditionally, with these friends (soul family) who love me and whom I love so fiercely. Here with people who are here for real and not just momentarily, not just flitting in and out of my life, but really present. Like Krystal, who I have known for ten years and who can read me like a book and who often does read me like I have pages. I can keep no secrets but that is okay because I am safe. And Emily who I have known not as long, but who can still read me startlingly well and who can lipread even when I'm not talking (which I guess means she is thought-reading), and still that is okay because, still, I am safe.

And then there is my sister who is amazing and hilarious and who I am so proud of. She has come through hell to get where she is. And my mom, who, with love and compassion, helped shape us into the amazing people we are and who loves us even though we are petulant and sometimes ungrateful.

What more could a girl ask for? Not much, I don't think. Maybe a new computer so I can do good in school next semester, and maybe some new clothes and a new wallet. Those things are easy to come by in life. All it takes is a little money. Lucky for me I have a job that gives me a little money. The rare things, the things you can't buy, I already have in spades. And for this reason I am truly blessed.

Ok. I'm done being a superfag. For now, anyway.

the things we do for love

I love my sister. I love her a whole lot. But. I absolutely hate getting up at 5am to take her to work. Even when she bribes me with a breakfast sandwich from QuikTrip. Even when I go to Starbucks and they give me free coffee because it is dead and before 6 and they like me.

Because it is 10am and I am so fucking tired. But I will survive just fine, if sleepily. I have a quiz today, and it is the least-mattering quiz, ever, I think, because the lowest two quiz grades will be dropped and I have consistently gotten 20 out of 20 or 19 out of 20, so, unless I get a perfect score, it will help my grade naught. (That sentence has a lot of commas in it. Whatevs.) Not that I'm worried about my grade. I forecast an "A" in the class. I am curious to see how I did on my story, though. (Mom made me perform it, while speaking so they could understand, at Thanksgiving.)

The semester is almost over. Class today and then the Final next Tuesday.

Hey kids, I just looked at my grades online, and I got a 49.8/50 on my story!!! Fantastic!!! When I saw it I thought, immediately, "That must be a mistake," because I thought I did pretty bad on it. But. I always misunderestimate myself. You guys know that.

So. Yayzers!!!

p.s. I received two texts this morning of "Good morning, Sunshine." Heh.

prop 8 the musical

WALL-E

We watched WALL-E last night, and I think it is the most adorable movie I have ever seen. So cute it hurts, adorable. I mean, look:

Is that not the cutest thing you have ever seen?

You should definitely watch it. Especially if you love the shit out of robots, like I do.

water off a duck's back

Tonight I am playing a game called "Shake it Off." It involves myself, the new Futurama movie, Bender's Game, and a sixer of something good.

I am looking forward to it.

i want to break free

I'm cross-posting this because it is that awesome. Lyrics here.

can you just be normalsauce for one day?

I successfully purchased a hooded sweatshirt online. It was more difficult than you would think. I wanted a plain one. Normal. With a zipper. Apparently those are hard to come by. When I was in Sears (gross) yesterday looking for a pair of gloves (depressing) I thought I would see if they had any hoodies (bad idea) because I need one (I do). They had crazy kinds that were expensive and had retarded graphics all over them, but not normal, solid color, plain hoodie. So I ordered one on Amazon.

Why is this important and not just lame and boring? Because I hate buying things, especially for myself, especially clothes. It's all about self-care, which I am not very good at. A step in the right direction.

p.s. I learned a new word today: mythopoeic. Also, I learned how to make graphs in Excel.

slow down, you crazy child

I had a dream about neglecting animals last night. And by that I mean I had a dream about all the ways in which I neglect myself, and about that overwhelming feeling you have when the Jenga game of your life becomes ridiculously precarious. The dream is about the fact that I have been procrastinating buying new clothes for months. It is also about the three classes I am enrolled in for next semester. It is about the fucking stupid holidays and my guilt about being too broke to buy presents. It is about the interview I have at Borders today. (I fucking hate interviews.) It is about letting those damned students walk all over me at work.

I can't please everyone. I can't fix everything. So maybe I should just focus on pleasing and fixing myself and everyone else can just fuck off.

Non sequitir: They are painting the closest bathroom at work so I have to use the "crying bathroom" (the onsie bathroom I would always go cry about Liz in). So that's fun. Fond memories.

Anyway. I had a proud moment this morning because I was telling my sister about my weird dream and she said, "Animals represent primal emotions, and everyone in your dream is just different aspects of yourself." She is so smart. I love her more than anything, ever.

Andrea is the only person who truly understands how awful my dad is. And how completely clueless he is. He doesn't know or understand either of us at all, and he never will. And that sucks, but oh, well. I don't need him. I have plenty of love and support without him. My cup runneth over with love and support, which is an amazing thing.

So, chin up, buttercup, fight that seasonal depression, and no crying at work.

they say i'm mental but i'm just confused

I just pulled every book about Christmas we have off the shelves (there are ten or twelve, maybe). We also have two books about Kwanzaa, one about Jewish Holidays in general, and none about Ramadan. Merry Christmas. Merry saying "holiday" instead of "Christmas" doesn't make it any less about Christmas.

Merry I'm not ready for Christmas.

Merry you are all getting felt ornaments from me because I am broke.

Merry fuck my dad I don't want to see him.

Merry I'm lucky the school is only closed for eight days because I don't get paid holidays.

Merry maybe there will be more snow days because I do get paid for those.

Merry I don't want to assemble that fucking fake tree again this year.

Merry blah and bah humbug.

Merry it'll all work out and maybe I just need to listen to Eartha Kitt singing "Santa Baby" again.