our days on earth are but a shadow

Today's Bible lesson, class, will be Natalie's interpretation of the Book of Job. (And you totally can't mock me for knowing about Jesus because Job is from the Hebrew Bible. And I learned about it in my Philosophy class in college. I am utterly mock-proof.)

Anyway... Job. Job is this pious, devout Bible guy, and one day Satan and God make a bet. God says to Satan, "Check out my man Job, he's pretty sweet." and Satan says, "Please. Of course he's into you, look at how great his life is. Take all that away and I bet he'll change his tune and curse you to your face." So Satan systematically ruins Job's life, pretty much. Kills all his children, demolishes everything he has, gives him icky skin diseases. Shit piled upon shit, basically. So Job is sad and pathetic and he spends a really long time arguing with his friends about why God would do something like this to him. He never curses God, he merely wants an explanation. And then this young kid comes and tells him he's acting like an arrogant sinning-person and that he should not presume he has the slightest idea what God's giant-fancy plans are. So finally, God himself comes out of the clouds all scary-like and says, "How dare you! Do you have any bloody idea how hard I work? What with creating, oh, I don't know, EVERYTHING. Sheesh." Only he's angrier than that, really. God outlines all the ways in which he is, you know, godly, and Job is a lowly worm. God schools Job, and Job hastily repents. And then God gives Job a new, better family and cooler stuff (more oxen) and everyone lives happily ever after. Except Job's old family because they're all dead.

Ok. That was the summary part. I would say that it is generally accurate. Now for the analysis part: This story functions, for me, on several levels. (I'm not going to talk too much about traditional interpretations or scholarly analyses of this book of the Bible. You can search on Google Scholar and read them for yourselves.) It is really interesting in a historical context because Christians have a much different relationship with god than old-school Jews do. And that is quite evident within the Bible itself. Jesus is really a kinder, gentler deity. He eliminates that separation between human and god, since he is the divine walking on Earth, allegedly. That, to me, is philosophically interesting.

So there's that part. Then there's the part about Job being the archetypal guy-who-gets-a-raw-deal. He didn't do anyhting, really, except be "blameless and upright." And that sucks for him. He gets reduced to a human bag of misery, and who, in that situation, would not curse god? I certainly would. I certainly have. And I haven't ever been a human bag of misery. But I do know about shit upon shit. I know about life being a constant test of one's ability to cope. I also know about life not being like that. I know about life being endlessly wondrous and incomprehensibly amazing. Which is kind of what God was saying to Job; life is more complex and expansive than you can even begin to imagine.

Then there's the part about Job being rewarded for his faith. (Was he rewarded for his faith, or for how quickly he caved as soon as God showed up? Or maybe he was rewarded for having the balls to ask why, and the balls to admit he was wrong. I don't know. I didn't write it.) Faith is one of those words, for me, that activates my anger. Blind faith is one of the singlemost destructive forces on the planet, I think. It keeps people stupid and placated. Like cattle. It's a drug as much as anything else is. And faith is different from trust. For me, faith is something directed at obscure, abstract concepts (like religion). Trust is an interpersonal thing. More real. Definitely legitimate. But faith is bullshit. Faith is like asking someone to ignore their thoughts and intuitions for some ridiculous social construct. "Here's a bunch of bullshit. Take it on faith." Fuck that noise.

One last thing, because I have to leave very soon. How fucked up is it that God and Satan make a bet about poor Job? Are they that bored? I guess so. They ruin his life. And I mean ruin. And then God's just like, Ok, reset. And everything is back to normal. The first time I read it I couldn't get past the your-entire-family-is-dead thing. I know it's an allegory and I am being legalistic. But I couldn't get over that part, were I Job. Excuse me, um, God, you can't just kill everyone I love and then replace them. That's kind of horrible. What kind of god are you, to do that to a person?

Oh, one more, all-important bit: it is your right and duty as a person of intelligence to question absolutely everything. This includes your parents, the establishment, god. Nothing and no one is above scrutiny, ever, under any circumstances. Also, on a slightly unrelated note, no one deserves your respect who does not show respect to you. This includes your parents, the establishment, god. Respect is earned, not freely given, I don't care who you are, what you've done, or how much older you are than me. Also. You don't owe anything to anyone. This includes your parents, the establishment, god.

Ok, class, I hope today's lesson provides you with a better picture of not only the Book of Job, but of my deep-seated agnosticism. And deeply-set it is. Don't forget there will be a quiz over the material I have covered next week.

milk won two oscars

And the acceptance speeches were both really good. They replayed part of Dustin Lance Black's (the screenwriter) speech on Ellen yesterday and I popped out two fat, hot tears about it (which is the most I have cried in a long time, so I consider it a triumph of my emotions). It was so beautiful. It is the kind of visibility that the Gay Community so desperately needs these days. Sean Penn gave a good speech, too. I haven't watched it yet, but I read the transcript. He shamed everyone who voted for the gay marriage ban, which was appropriate and awesome.

Here's the bit of the speech that made me cry:

"But most of all, if Harvey had not been taken from us 30 years ago, I think he’d want me to say to all of the gay and lesbian kids out there tonight who have been told that they are less than by their churches or by the government or by their families that you are beautiful, wonderful creatures of value and that no matter what anyone tells you, God does love you and that very soon, I promise you, you will have equal rights, federally, across this great nation of ours. Thank you, thank you, and thank you God for giving us Harvey Milk."

Can you see why I cried? He couldn't have said anything better. It touched my heart. Gives me hope. Things are changing. They are changing and those old-guard Republican homophobes can't stop them. They're ridiculous old dinosaurs and the only thing they can do now is get older and more decrepit and then die. Good riddance. The world will be a better place without them.

re: utah state senator chris buttars and his obvious homosexuality

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i'm afraid i've said too much, i'm afraid someone has heard me

My shower was really important this morning. I mean, beyond the hygiene part. Just like the compulsive hand-washing is a guilt thing (thanks for telling me that, Mom), I felt today like my shower was cleansing my guilt. Guilt for my thoughts. Thoughts that would make me a bad friend or a bad person so I just keep them. Until this morning when I let them roll off and slip down the drain. They are still there a bit, in that persistent way that is characteristic of a lot of my thoughts. But they are diluted, at least, for now.

And they are not bad thoughts, really. Just thoughts. Unkind thoughts. Things. But this is the first time in a very long time that I haven't felt comfortable sharing with anyone, not even my closest friends. And that is weird for me. This is why I think I need a therapist. I'm an open book, usually. Except now I have ripped a couple of pages out and I don't know what to do with them.

I think it's the perfectionism thing. I can't just be a good friend. I have to be the best friend. So anything that would mar my sterling reputation as the consummate friend is unacceptable. The problem, though, is that not sharing, because I have a compulsion to share (silence = death, right?), not sharing is making them worse. What is that fancy psychologist concept of whatever is not addressed on the inside manifests on the outside? Is that a thing? I think it is.

And sometimes I feel like you guys know all my secrets anyway, so all of this bullshit about trying to hide things is pointless because you can read it in my eyes and that actually scares the shit out of me. Secrets are poison. Why do I insist upon having them? Most of the time I refuse to keep them. But these are too close to the bone, I guess.

And I'm building it up like it's some horrible secret, but it's really just feelings, normal feelings like everyone has. I just need to be kind to myself about my feelings. It's hard though.

I let the water wash over my face this morning, tried to coax out some of my own tears, to no avail. It will happen when it happens. When it's right. And it will be good.

looking for the holes

by ani difranco

i am looking for the holes
the holes in your jeans
because i want to know
are they worn out in the seat
or are they worn out in the knees

there are so many ways to wear
what we have before it's gone
to make use of what is there
you know i don't wear anything i can't wipe my hands on

oh, do your politics fit between the headlines
are they written in newsprint, are they distant
mine are crossing an empty parking lot
they are a woman walking home
at night
alone
they are six string that sing
and wood that hums against my hipbone

we can't afford to do anyone harm
we owe them our lives
each breath is recycled from someone else's lungs
our enemies are the very air in disguise

you can talk a great philosophy
but if you can't be kind to people
every day
it doesn't mean that much to me
it's the little things you do
the little things you say
it's the love you give along the way

when we patch things up
they say a job well done
but when we ask the question why
where did the rips come from?
they say we are subversive
and extreme, of course
we are just trying to track a problem to its source

we are looking for the holes
the holes
we are looking for the holes
the holes

because we know we can't sit back
and let people come to harm
we owe them our lives
each breath is recycled from someone else's lungs
our enemies are the very air
our enemies are the air

i am looking for the holes
the holes in your jeans
because i want to know
are they worn out in the seat
or are they worn out in the knees

why i am so awesome

So here's my discussion board response to someone's ridiculous whining about how they are so oppressed as a Christian:

"In my opinion, the phenomenon you are identifying in regards to your religion is fundamentally different from the institutionalized oppression the Deaf Community and other minorities have experienced. I would consider the kind of stereotyping you are talking about to be backlash in the same way that there is backlash against the hearing majority by members of the Deaf Community. Religious minorities have generations of pent-up resentment and animosity directed toward the Christian majority because despite the fact that the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States guarantees the right to freedom of religion, the U.S. is still a Christian nation (much like the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 guarantees equal access and deaf people still have to fight for interpreters). Christian values are upheld and favored over the religious beliefs of non-Christians. Religious minorities have been physically attacked by individuals and groups of individuals, castigated by the media, censured in public school systems (sometimes more covertly than overtly), or ignored altogether. This may explain why some non-Christians are so quick to judge members of the Christian majority.

I am not trying to say that you have not been stereotyped or that people's unrealistic expectations of your behavior are acceptable or not motivated by ignorance. I am also not trying to compare religious minorities with the Deaf Community or say that one group is more oppressed than another. I just think that institutional marginalization is a very insidious thing and that it is important to be aware of majority/minority cultural dynamics, especially in a field like interpreting, where there exists the potential for being confronted with a real disparity in the balance of power almost daily."

I so win. Not that it's a contest or anything. But still. See how awesome and diplomatic I am?

don't you want to be here?

"Down a flight of stairs, past a wooden statue of Our Lady of Sorrows, is the door to the catacomb, the waiting room of the dead. Surprisingly large, with high, vaulted ceilings and long corridors stretching away at right angles. It's cool and dank and smells of sour, spiced dust and rotting cloth. The windows are high and diffuse the sunlight into a pale glow. Fluorescent bulbs vibrate, adding a medically forensic, anemic brightness. Hanging from the walls, propped on benches, resting in their decrepit boxes, are nearly 2,000 dead. They're dressed in their living best, the uniforms of their earthly calling. There's no one else down here."

From a National Geographic article.

feelings, bullshit doctor nonsense, good stuff and other things

Feelings: I am having them. This hot girl business has got me all stirred up. And I have this pathetic lonely-martyr bent that I really need to eliminate but that has been super-ingrained for years so it's not just going to disappear, you know what I mean? It is rooted in my severe self-image and self-esteem issues. And it's fucking with my shit and I hate that. In my mind it doesn't make sense that anyone would hit on me. Which means I am fucked up. Again with the self-loathing, right? What is that? It is so unnecessary and counterproductive. Any time someone comes onto me my brain goes into panic-lockdown-sabotage mode and I ignore my intuition, which is, of course, bad. I'm just like, "No. Certainly not. Can't be true. Impossible." Why why why can't I stop? Why can't I just be ok with myself? Let go of the self-hatred. (Maybe that also means I have to let go of the hatred and bad-feelings I have for my dad and that is part of the problem because I am still clutching tightly onto all of that like it's a security blanket.)

Bullshit doctor nonsense: my fucking doctor, who I actually liked even though I hate doctors, closed her office and disconnected her phone and for some reason no one called me about it. Had I not called the hospital her office is in I would not have known this. I would have driven all the fucking way out to stupid South Tulsa, discovered that her office no longer exists, gotten pissed that I wasted all that time and gas when I could have been at home self-soothing or watching the L Word, and possibly cried because I am that tired today. Good thing I avoided all of that shit. And of course the part of me that hates doctors the most is rejoicing because I don't have to go the doctor today. The practical, grown-up part of me is aggravated because I need to go to the doctor, and now I have to find a new doctor and I hate trying to find a new doctor because so fucking many of them are completely awful. It's a total crapshoot unless you get a recommendation from someone.

Fuck. Stupid doctors. If I thought I could get away with it I would treat my body like I treat my car and just drive it into the ground. I mean I kind of do that right now, but not totally. I take my medicine, get enough sleep, try to eat decently, think about how I should be exercising more, the usual stuff. But if it involves doctors I have a huge mental block about it. It's because I was sick so much when I was young and I went to lots of doctors who a) were really mean and b) misdiagnosed me, repeatedly. I mean, so many fucking appointments, every week almost, sometimes more than once a week. So many different medications. Different kinds of doctors. Even fake doctors, like Chiropractors and Accupuncturists. Mom made me go. I don't know if she was misguided. Probably. She was frantically trying to figure out what my deal was. My unique combination of physical and psychological issues makes for an awful mess for someone to try and decipher, I guess.

Good stuff: we have study group tonight. I am bringing my portfolio to show to my new gay friend. I also have some pictures of Andrea, Dave and Kobi on my phone to show her, too. Yay new gay friend!

Also, Mo, my coworker who is a million times better than all the others, is going to interview me about the use of media in the classroom. It's for his doctoral dissertation or something related to his doctorate. I'm excited because Mo is awesome and adorable. He made a good choice by picking me to interview because I am a font of knowledge about the use of media in the classroom. I went to art school. I was a New Media major. It was all about media. Anyway. Mo is the best. I am super-glad to help him out.

Other things: I'm tired. I can't wait for work to be over. I get to watch the L-Word when I get home. My mood is weird today. Mondays are lame. I have a quiz tomorrow. I have a new gay friend. Did you know that? Maybe I already told you.

That's about it, I guess.

my new gay friend

I have a gay friend! Her name is Pam. She is in my ASL 2 class. She has a wife and a six year old son. Her wife is kind of adorably country. They are all adorable, really. I went over to her house for study group yesterday but no one else showed up (which was actually what we were both secretly wishing would happen).

But it was great. We just chatted for like four hours and I love gay people who aren't crazy fucked-up. It was so awesome!

I'm taking my portfolio to school so I can show her because she said she wanted to see some of my work. And Tuesday after I get off work we are going to watch one of the lab videos together.

I'm so excited!

really good movie

This is the trailer to a movie called Osama (the trailer has subtitles), which is very, very good. Sad. But very good.

you were smoking me weren't you, between your yellow fingers

Today is Valentine's Day. I will say that right now, at this point in my life, I hate Valentine's Day. I will not go so far as to say I hate Valentine's Day so much that I would use it as an opportunity to sabotage any relationship I am in. That is the difference between me and fucked-up people. My feelings are temporary due to a raw little heart, which will hopefully heal up just fine with time.

Speaking of hearts, mine got nicked a bit last night in a weird way, which I hate, of course. I think I was just tired and drained from two nights in a row of interacting with people I don't know, which I also hate. Because I still, even now, feel my chest clench in panic when I'm on my way to Deaf events. The old me would just not have gone. Cried about it. New me goes but still freezes up. I can't be hard on myself about it, even if I fail Deaf Culture for it. I am only me. I can't be more or less. Plus it will will will get easier. I will be able to engage fully instead of sitting on the fringes, at some point. Part of it was there were less people that I know there than usual.

The lesbian from my class came, and that was cool. She went to Deaf, Deaf World last semester, the early one. I told her I went to the later one and so did my ex and it was terribly awkward. I asked her if that's where I remembered her from and then she informed me that actually I helped her with her laptop once (which I have zero recollection of at all). She also said she went home and told her girlfriend "I think a gay girl helped me today." Which was affirmed when she saw the button on my bag the first day of class.

Then there was this girl who came who I ended up talking to for more than an hour. She was totally straight though (I think). She read straight, especially because I was attracted to her. Because I am attracted to straight girls. Cute girls. Girls. God. There are just so goddamned many of them it's hard not to like some of them. Anyway. We were talking and she told me my name was beautiful and "rare nowadays" and touched my arm repeatedly and I think it's bullshit because if she were a lesbian those would totally be come-ons. But she's just a cute straight girl from what I could read of her. I was attempting to feel her out, "Did you move here by yourself?" and so on, but the conversation never quite got there. But I hate that shit. I can't just hit on someone. I do not chase straight girls. I don't hit on them. I'm paranoid about it. Probably because I don't want to be the creepy predatory dyke who goes after all the innocent vulnerable girls. (Wow. I have self-image issues, don't I? This is why I think I need to be in therapy.)

And girls are socialized to be flirtatious, anyway. Straight girls, if they know I'm a lesbian, flirt with me more than they would if they thought I was straight. For them I am probably a safe person with whom they can act out their latent homosexual feelings a bit. (Seriously.) They immediately categorize me as "harmless" because I'm shyish, nice, and a little awkward. Whatever. But. I'm still calling bullshit on it.

Fucking context, though, right? Christ. If you don't know the context then you're pretty much fucked.

Blerg.

my little buttercup has the sweetest smile

I had something really, really important to say. In my heart I did. But it is gone now. Gone like so many other very-important things that must not have been all that important if we are all still alive and well without them.

Today is Abraham Lincoln's birthday. Charles Darwin's as well. They were born on the same day. I wonder if they are cosmically connected, then. Do they hang out in heaven? Do they prank Robert E. Lee? Put his fancy General's sword in jello? Wait. I don't think they have jello in heaven, it's gross. No one actually likes jello. Not even Jesus.

I think I was supposed to notice and be excited that Laura and Mom now have matching bikes. She said, did you see, did you see? And I, playing the petulant daughter, said, "Yeah. It's a bike," like it was the least interesting thing I had ever heard in the entire world. I'll have to fix it tomorrow. "Wow, Mom. That's so cool that Laura bought you guys bikes (I know Mom didn't buy them or even one of them because she's totally broke right now) and now you can ride around together like the giant homos that you are."

I just suspended blog writing to go have an 11pm Cobb salad at Village Inn with Kate and Emily. It was great. We talked about boys. And stupid girl drama. And the inevitable robot uprising.

Here is a picture I took with my phone:


I call it "Washrags with I Voted Sticker." It is possibly one of my greatest works.

Also, here is one of Andrea, Dave and the cat all passed out on the new couch.


I might go to bed now. Goodnight.

things

This is the poster I bought:


It is a beautiful three-color silkscreen limited edition of either 45 or 100. It's awesome and I am going to put it in a nice black frame. Art school turned me into a black-frame-white-mat person. Does that make me boring or does it make me a Fascist? I haven't decided.

KCAI is having Alumni Weekend in May. Can you be an alum if you didn't graduate? Unimportant. There's no way I could handle going back there at this point in my life. That's actually a lie. I can totally handle it. Fuck. Maybe I should go. Maybe it would be therapeutic. Maybe it would just be humiliating. Do you show? No. Do you have any new work? No. Do you feel dead inside and heartbroken because in your life you have abandoned not one, but two of your true loves? Why yes, yes I do. *commence blackout drinking*

In other news, the Robert ParkeHarrison exhibit at the Nelson that I desperately wanted to go to is ending on Sunday. That's like a tiny knife in my crusted-over heart because it's my fault and my fault alone that I did not make that happen.

I think maybe I should be in therapy again. I hate therapy. But I have this self-loathing that I don't know what to do with.

Blerg, you guys. Just... blerg.

jon stewart is hilarious

From the Feb. 3 Daily Show:

"So maybe Obama cannot instantly drain the ethical swamp that is Washington, but can he at least bring hope that Republican and Democratic crooks can work together as some sort of bipartisan criminal enterprise?"

your gayness does not define you, it's your mexicanity

Sometimes I hate straight people. Sometimes I wish they would all just go away, and then gay people would be left to take over everything. Maybe this is what those stupid Christians mean by the Rapture. If that is the case, then bring it on. Maybe they should make a gay version of the Left Behind books where all the gross straight people go to "heaven," and then life is awesome for gays everywhere and we all live in peace and harmony forever.

It makes me think that Deaf people must hate hearing people sometimes because we have it so easy. And we don't even think about it. We don't have to. We move through life effortlessly with easy access to everything and basic stuff, like going to the doctor or going to a movie, isn't ever a battle. (Except I fucking hate doctors so I have to battle with myself to actually go. But making the appointment is usually hassle-free.)

I don't think anyone has it easy, really. America is not an easy place. Maybe for rich white men it is. Not for anyone else. Like Tom Petty says, "everybody's had to fight to be free." This is not a "Who's Been More Oppressed" contest. That's pointless and counterproductive. (And besides, the Gay Black Transgender Deaf Quadriplegic Jews win that one every time.)

Anyway. Some days I hate straight people. Those are usually the days when it sucks to be gay. Like around Obama's election I hated straight people for making it bittersweet. And I lumped them all together, even the ones who didn't vote for bigotry, because I fucking felt like it. Sometimes it seems like stereotypes and inaccurate generalizations are all we have left over straight people. They hold all the power. What do we have? We can call them names. Make fun of them for their penchant for sex resulting in pregnancy. Turn the tables and say they are fags because maybe that is the most insulting thing they can be called (because they are secretly gay inside and don't like to be reminded of it, *ahem* Rick Warren). And then maybe the word "fag" has less power because it stops making sense if straight people are fags, too.

Like I said, though. I don't feel like that every day. Just some days. Sometimes I like straight people because I know a lot of them, and some of them are good and nice. Like Dave and my sister, except I don't count them as straight because Andrea is my sister (which makes her half gay, genetically speaking) and Dave has a ton of lesbian friends. So that's gay by association. Adam, I think, is the straightest person I know, and I like him all the time, even on straight-hating days. And even he only partly counts because he's marrying into gayness.

And maybe you are thinking "labels, schmabels, get over yourself," but it's not about labels, it's about identity. Identity is important. Americans are very into searching out their own personal identities. And I am very much an American.

My interpreting class (still full of ridiculous idiots who don't understand what a paragraph is) has me thinking about culture a lot. Thinking too, about my own personal cultural identity. Also thinking about the similarities between Gay Culture and Deaf Culture. I should write a paper about it. At least it's interesting. I could be in a Traditional Grammar and Usage class that makes me want to stab forks in my eyes, repeatedly.

p.s. Please don't ask me how someone can be Gay and Transgender at the same time. They are two different things.

i love robots

I bought this shirt today:


Because robots are awesome. Almost as awesome as dinosaurs.

update

Dave made steak for dinner.

It was delicious.

That is all.

p.s. This is Tyler:


He is adorable. He is Dave and Andrea's new dog and we played fetch for an hour today. I am afraid my arm will be paying for it tomorrow. My wrists and hands are already all fucked and mad at me. Best not to think about it. Except that I should probably be getting massages regularly so my hands don't deteriorate into creepy claw hands before I'm thirty.

Nerds. Bodies and their stupid problems.

we are such silly creatures

Dear Mom,

Please get rid of that fucking orchid.

Love,
Natalie

johannesburg, the second greatest city after paris

by William Kentridge

radio war

by Iron & Wine

Did the wine make her dream
Of the far distant spring
Or a bed full of hens
Or the ghost of a friend

All the while that she wept
She had a gun by her bed
And a letter he wrote
From a dry, foundered boat

And the train track will take
All the wounded ones home
And I’ll be alone
Fare thee well Sara Jones

Now we lie on the floor
While the radio war
Finds its way through the air
Of the dead market square

And the beast never seen
Licks its red talons clean
Sara curses the cold
"No more snow, no more snow, no more snow"

with all the righteous rage, and all the bitter spite

I'm too angry. It's just the hormones. This is normal. It happens every month.

I still hate it, though.

I hope Krystal is ok.

I think I will go to bed early tonight. Maybe cry a little. I feel like I need to, like it's been building up. All the times in the past six months when I thought I was going to cry or wanted to cry I haven't really, but maybe finally there is enough, now, for me to cry about all the things I need to cry about. All those things that shouldn't be but are. All the frustrating bullshit. All the things in the world I can't fix because I'm just Natalie. Everything that is unfair and injust. All the things my friends have to deal with that I can't spare them from because that's just not the way life works.

I'd like to cry about that tonight, please. And I think then I'll be ok tomorrow.