Author: justMe_11

No more white pants

Today I want to rant a bit about why martial arts schools often force everyone to wear all white. First, I think it’s dumb because we roll around on the floor, and sweat. A darker colored gi would look better longer. They pick up stains from red punching bags, and colored matts. I’m sick of seeing guys with stained collars and pits from wearing old white gis. Also, cheap white light weight 7oz pants get more and more transparent as you wash them. Not to mention it gets transparent while you sweat during class. Maybe the guys don’t care if I can see there old man plaid boxers, but it makes me self-conscious. Second, I think it’s cruel to have females wear white pants. There is a reason most girls remove white and light colored pants and shorts fro their wardrobe around the time they hit puberty. Yes, menstruation. There I said it. Don’t make me say it again.

Ok a little history. I’ve read that the original karate workout style of clothing came from Okinawa. In 1900s and before they didn’t have uniforms, but wore everyday “peasant clothes,” often unbleached cotton. Yes, there is more history about the origins of martial arts coming from India, and SE Asia, but just talking about the Japanese gi for now, so sticking with what they wore in Okinawa and Japan. When karate was formalized into a Ryu and accepted by the government some masters, Gichin Funakoshi of Shotokan, and Chojun Miyagi of Goju Ryu, started requiring the present day gi as a uniform. My research said the white gis in karate where influenced by the gis or technically called “Keigo gi” or “dogi,” worn for judo.

I’ve been told by many instructors “…we wear white as a sign of pure heart.” Do a little online research and you’ll read some of the founders, Chojun, Funakoshi, and Kano Jigoro of Judo moved from off-white unbleached gis to bleached white, again to signify purity.

That said, white is considered mourning wear in some Asian countries. Also, many Chinese styles of Kung Fu and Tai Chi, even Wing Chun often give new students black uniforms, or black pants and a t-shirt. Do we really consider them less pure? Please, can we do away with the purity line? I mean most shodans, black belts and above wear all black. Are they now impure?

It just seems more logical since we are occassional on the the floor, and hitting red and black pads to be wearing white. Unfortunately, my current school is working out of a building/space of another school. The “other school” has one of those after school karate programs. Lots of kids, lots of classes, and probably a snack time, means the floor is a mess. I’ve had to fling stickers, sand, bottle caps and even ants off and away from where I’m working out. Yeah, I’m picky. I’m used to dojos where the students would spend 5-10min after class either mopping/wiping mats, cleaning mirrors, and often times vacuuming. I keep being up my favorite school, Harp Karate, but I remember probably once a week we would either winded/was the mirrors, or vacuum the floor.

Martial Arts schools are often trying and wondering why there are so few women, and girls joining. Let me give you a hint, white pants. Girls for obvious reasons especially in there early teens do not wear white pants.

I would like to propose black pants for all, or like some Tae Kwon Do and BJJ schools, maybe even a blue gi as soon as you get your first real rank. I know, I know. No one wants to give out expensive $60+ gis to the “limited trial” potential students. Those get in you the door prices need to stay low. I’m guessing 90% of the people who do the free trial, never sign up, and keep the gi for Halloween. Here’s an idea. Take a clue from the Chinese styles. I know a couple Hung Gar, Wing Chun, various Kung fu schools let you wear sweat pants for up to 3 months. I have no stats on how many people actually join for the free gi. Yes, kids and parents probably love it, but for adults, maybe not.

Now I just earned two stripes. As some of you know I always laughed at the need to give people stripes for motivation. I do feel a little weird. At prior schools I always frowned on giving even kids stripes between belts. It felt like a little too much hand holding if kids really need a “participation award,” maybe they should join a sport. I’m not a parent so I maybe wrong, but I’ve seen kids just get more competitive when they have stripes. It may motivate in the beginner, but it seems to backfire later.

AHAHHAA THAT SAID… I have to say I’m proud of my stupid little pieces of electrical tape. The Master said while attaching them, this is not a rank, but rather a way to remind me and any one who may teach for me where you are in the curriculum. As in what I have been shown, not what I’ve accomplished. That explanation helped, but yeah it’s a participation award. Hehe. Also I can see schools that have 12-20 kids a few stripes can help the instructors keep track of what kid should know what. But I’ll leave my opinion on teaching kinds under 12yrs old aside for now. (Ahem daycare)

My point? Yes I understand it’s cheap to give people a nice light 7oz white gi with an intro program. But please, can we get rid of it as soon as possible. WHY?
1) I HATE having to save up my good light colored, no pattern, underwear for training days. Beware of festive undies showing through light white pants.

2) Remember we sweat, which makes the light white pants even more transparent.

3) Once a month wearing all white is an issue. And if you’re female between 10-18 yrs old or 45-55 yrs old that once a month can be 2x a month or more. Trust me you don’t want more detail!

4) See number 3. If I’m having a bad day. I can push through back pain, I can push through cramps, or a headache, but we’re rolling around. Think about it. Black pants save everyone from possible embarrassments.

And lastly, black or blue pants just look cooler. Although I’ve never had blue, but was tempted to join BJJ because of their cool blue gis. Then again Ok this is just me, but BJJ looks super homoerotic to me. (Yeah yeah flame on). Yes, 1st world problems and showing my entitlement ego.

I remember since I moved around and switched schools so often I was only a varifired shodan for a year. After 20 something years of training I got to “legally” wear black pants probably less than 1 yrs. Back injury took me out, for while. Then dojo politics took me out of Isshinryu altogether.

My rant, not world shattering or particularly moving. Remember this blog is an exercise in writing. I’ll work on writing about more serious stuff, like gender issues, once I get my writing brain warmed up. Until then prepare for entertaining and important topics like “Stop calling me ma’am,” and “People at Disney are so Grumpy.”

It is necessary to drink alcohol and pursue other fun human activities. The art (Karate) of someone who is too serious has no flavor.
~ Choki Motobu

Not much to say, and no, not talking about that

Not much to say today, but saw my good friend Doe posting on FB that she just added to her blog, Doses of Doe. I was just thinking earlier today, I should blog something. Trouble is I can never think of what to talk about. I know, many of my NY friends are falling over right now. I used to have at least 2-3 blogs running at the same time. And not having much to day was a rarity between my Rdykes, or rather Sabrina’s RDykes’ coffee meets, and what I’ll call “EDS survivors” coffee nights. Between 8 yrs in Los Angeles and than the terrible awful in the place we shall not name, I’ve become quite the introvert. I can bet anyone that has met me after I left Brooklyn would not describe me as gregarious. Yes, I used to be described as “gregarious.” Who was that person?

Cher PianoDue to my cuter-half’s job I’ve also had to curb a lot of my brutal honesty. I’m not upset about that, since if you know my story at all, you know being honest has not done my career any favors. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still brutally honest. However, I make sure I’m more aware of the audience. Hmmm , I now see the correlation to why some people think I’m rather quiet. I’m just smiling and thinking evil thoughts, since I’ve lost all my old partners in crime. Well, not lost, I moved away. It’s really hard to pass along a sideways glance and a quick quip without being physically present.

Sooo what’s new? Unfortunately some of the better news I can’t share just, yet. I’ll share the lesser exciting bits. Back at the piano this morning. Yeah yeah, still plodding away at the Simply Piano app. It’s a bit lame, but it’s easy to do and great for sight reading. I’m still in Essentials II, which means there are 2 more sections to go before I get to reading lead sheets. I’ve wanted to learn how to read lead sheets for a while. I pulled the plug on my Patreon subscription to Bill Hilton. No fault of his, I had over 50 lessons I had yet to even view. Figured I should stop payment until I catch up a bit. Found a new free YouTube vid where he’s going over 3 easy jazz tunes. I’m working on that and another updated improv vid. Trying to learn and remember the 12 bars of chord progressions, is going slow. Hopefully I won’t have long sabbaticals between practice sessions like I did in the place we shall not name. Simply Piano app is fun, today I played some Aerosmith tune. My 14 year old self would be proud!

I’ve gotten much farther in piano as an adult than I ever did as a child. Pretty soon I’ll pass where I went in my on/off again years of guitar study, too.

And yes, believe it or not I’ve found a new dojo a few weeks back. Further, I’m still training. Often I find a group, do the free/cheap intro package, maybe a couple meet ups then ditch. Lack of meditation before and after class is usually the kicker, but I’ve given up on that.

I can’t honestly say I train even twice a week, but I’ve made it past the introductory 8 classes. I was going 2x a week until the screaming dragon of legal bull fucking shit woke up for a bit. Argh! I think that’s been slayed…. or at least napping. I really don’t want to talk too much about it, because I’ve noticed a bad trend. If I talk about or post on social media about training, working out, piano… shortly afterwards I stop.

I’m more than a little superstitious that even this bit of writing and the fact I talked about it to someone last night on the phone, that I’ve already jinxed myself. I haven’t earned a new belt yet. I did say I’ve only attended about 8-10 classes, so we’ll see. If I stay past the intro, it’s usually shortly after the first or second belt I tend to lose interest. This is also when I realize I’m the only Queer in the group, and people are being “nice.” I start to notice no one really wants to hang out, even just to geek out over martial arts. One guy is super friendly to point I was afraid maybe he was being flirty, but no. I get so thrown off if I think a guy might be flirting. It’s so rare! Fortunately, he just likes to geek out over martial arts, and gets excited talking about it. Actually, all the guys do, which is cool. No one is using training as a distraction and no 13-15yr old “adult students” that are obviously in involuntary karate daycare.

Unlike past attempts at combining training with socializing, this time I’m waiting. I’m not going to be the first to ask someone to coffee or go see the latest kung fu/karate movie. I’m too tired of being disappointed. The class is pretty small and as far as I can tell there isn’t much outside class socializing going on. Then again I’m still on the “intro package,” and after changing schools many times I’ve learned rarely do you get social invites until you’ve proven you’re sticking around past the point of getting a free uniform. I have hope, though. This group seems pretty decent. No one talks politics, so no clue if there are conservative-phobes. Fingers crossed.

What else?

Stopped reading with probably less than a hundred pages left of The Magician (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel) by Michael Scott, and the same with Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet. Had to stop barely a hundred pages in to some book I started about a guy trapped underground. One sec, let me look, ahh Last Words by Michael Koryta. Last Words trigger my fear of being buried alive, not a good bedtime book.

I know so boring… I’m falling asleep listening to my own story in my own head.

I know you all want to hear about the terrible awful that happened in June. I did write about it, but I don’t want to post it. Not today, and maybe not ever. I didn’t sleep for two days and totally messed up my digestion for a full week just writing about it. Yes, nothing but rice, bananas and applesauce for my diet. I’m still on that diet, too. Although, I’ve added protein. June is a hard place to visit. I wrote my story, from my perspective, and it’s … well, hindsight is a fucking bitch. So many calls to people and “rpofessionals” pretending to help and so many lies, just so many people fucking with you. Hindsight is going to be a real bitch, I think, for the next few months.

OK, not what you were expecting, but moving right along. Learning to talk, share, and be more open and open to creative energies.
If you’re reading, what do you want to read about?

wondering about all the things
that I’ll never understand
there are some things that you can’t know
unless you’ve been there
but oh how far we could go
if we started to share

I don’t need to tell you
what it is about
you just start on the inside
and work your way out
~ Ani DiFranco (from song Work Your Way Out)

Tales of misConduct

I recently attended an event where unbeknownst to me, by buying a ticket I had signed basically a morality clause. I did not purchase my ticket and probably like many attendees, someone purchased the ticket for me. When I went to the event and was asked to fill out a registration form and there was a line of people, I just filled it out quickly and hit OK. I vaguely remember the usual last screen with, “Do you agree to terms…” which you always have to hit YES or OK, or you have to start over. Since the ticket was paid for, I didn’t think it was out of the ordinary, but was that the “Code of Conduct” or just the usual terms of sale, with clauses relating to “no refunds,” and the like? Was there an option to “Not Agree” to this “Code of Conduct” or parts of it? Also, why were the organizers so quiet about it? You would think they’d actually advertise it, if it is actually there to create a sense of safety.

I read online articles about the sale of Tales of the Cocktail to new owners. Articles from Imbibe, Forbes, NOLA.com, UK’s Bar Magazine, etc., dating from January to July 2018. I read the open letter on TOTC’s website, announcing the new owners and changes for TOTC for the future. The articles and open letter mentioned the official 501(c)3 non-profit status, focus on education and trying to fix the issues of the past. The new and improved TOTC will have seminars and start conversations about sexual harassment, unequal pay, racism, sexism, and alcoholism. All of this is great.

from TOTC: Tales of the Cocktail Foundation Open Letter June 5, 2018, 2:23 p.m

…The Foundation is committed to providing impactful support and resources, and STAR is working with us to do just that. This will include a professional presence for direct support services and resources at the Hotel Monteleone, a 24 hour hotline (855.435.STAR/7817) to report sexual violence and provide immediate support, and a seminar …

from The Spirits Business.com: TOTC owners: ‘2018 is a year of stabilisation’ July 13, 2018

… This year will see TOTC offer six free seminars, including talks in association with Green Dot, a violence-prevention organisation, and Sexual Trauma and Recovery (STAR) to support survivors of sexual abuse. “We’re also creating a space that focuses on sober living and how to best take care of yourself…

Read the full articles and you know what is missing? Even in the article from The Spirits Business, posted just days before the start of the event, not one mention of the new mandatory code of conduct. Why?

The night before the official opening party, but after over 3 days worth of events, a note was posted on the TOTC’s home page, which gave the first notice of this code of conduct. I’m guessing many people weren’t notified of the code of conduct until then, if at all. In the article about a man being arrested for a crime that occurred 3 years prior, the event organizers very proudly announced all attendees, which included me, had agreed to a “mandatory code of conduct.” Not cool.
Is it legal?

from TOTC: Tales of the Cocktail Foundation Responds to Adam Seger’s Arrest July 18, 2018, 6:09 p.m

When we created the Foundation in February of this year, one of our first commitments was to make sure that Tales of the Cocktail New Orleans is safe for our attendees, participants, sponsors, cocktail apprentices, volunteers, staff, committee members, consultants and our Board of Directors.
To ensure this, the Foundation took several steps:

  • Instituting a mandatory Code of Conduct, created with the help of local non-profit Shift Change, for every individual registered and/or affiliated with Tales.

First, I’m not against codes of conduct. I’m not against trying to make a safer space at events known for over-imbibing, or in areas known for acts ranging from illegal sexual conduct to severely annoying misconduct. One reason I still have not “wandered down Bourbon St.” It’s not an experience I need, and one I knew would not be safe for me or my partner. What I am against is not letting me know about a mandatory code. Making me sign a contract without notice. That’s not legal. Also, if you are truly trying to make me feel safe, why the cloak and dagger routine?

I have to wonder if the event organizers and the non-profits involved know anything about laws, versus they just wanted to capitalize on the shocking publicity, and scare their attendees in acting appropriately. Let’s start with the ticket sale. It is a contract. I may not be lawyer, but I did pretty good in my one year of contract law in law school. (And I’ve also consulted a lawyer to help ensure I do not pass along misinformation). 1

The Laws: A ticket sale is a contract if
1) the parties agree to terms, and
2) there is “consideration” on both sides (money paid for the buyer, the event happening for the seller).

Let’s take part 2 first, since it’s easier.
2) Consideration on both sides: We have consideration since I paid money, or someone paid for me, and there was an event I was allowed to attend. I had attended at least one event before picking up my wrist band, but after I had purchased a ticket. Consideration is met.

Part 1, agreeing to terms.
1) Buyer agrees to sellers terms: Now for online ticket sales this can be done via a prominent disclosure on a website before the “buy” button is hit. As I mentioned before, often this manifests as the long “terms and conditions” page no one reads. However, I tried to purchase a ticket from the TOTC website, and did not see any terms page relating to code of conduct. Also, when I looked over all the emails and print outs we received as our receipt of the ticket purchase, and for the special event tickets we purchased, no Code of Conduct.

We could consider that TOTC added this code of conduct after the event started. Legally if the terms change after purchase, then there should have been “clear warning that attendance equals consent.”1 There should have been prominent signs at the registration tables, similar to the the ones you see at museums, “No photography allowed.” I saw business cards at the table, but I didn’t know what STAR was. Being my first Tales and first time in New Orleans I just assumed the cards were for some bar ware related, or alcohol related company pushing their product. I thought STAR was some sort of glassware, bar ware, bitters or possibly a brand of soda and mixers. No one at the table said, be sure to pick up a card so you have a 24/7hr hotline number to call. If they had, they would have at least created a chance to explain, discuss, or simply notify attendees of the new code of conduct.

Someone paid money, I got a print out, I went to get my wrist band. Why didn’t anyone of the 3 people I had to ask for help in finding paperwork, providing ID, and filling out the form to get the wrist band mention the new zero-tolerance policy, or the code of conduct? Why wasn’t the code of conduct mentioned on the FAQ page for the event or any of the previous articles about the changes to TOTC for 2018? No one said, please read the last page, or please note the terms & policies page. It’s different from past years, unless it wasn’t and I really didn’t get any notice at all about this mandatory code of conduct. And definitely no one said, “We hope you feel safe this year, because of our awesome “Code of Conduct” all attendees must sign. Nothing was said about the new and improved safer Tales. It’s hard not to feel like a good idea was severely tainted.

Let’s look at the “Code of Conduct.”

from TOTC: Tales of the Cocktail Foundation Code of Conduct2

Every one of our Tales of the Cocktail Attendees, Participants, Sponsors, Cocktail Apprentices, Volunteers, Staff, Committee Members Consultants and our Board of Directors [herein referred to as “Associates”] are governed by our Code of Conduct and are required to adhere to the standards of conduct established herein.

…The following list illustrates behaviors which are deemed unacceptable under this Code of Conduct Policy. This list is not all-inclusive, but merely indicates the types of actions subject to disciplinary action, up to and including expulsion from the Event, or referral for prosecution. By providing these examples, Tales of the Cocktail Foundation in no way restricts its legal discretion to terminate employment, contractual relationships, or access to any Event(s).

Bringing firearms or weapons of any kind, illegal drugs, or unapproved chemicals onto the premises

Being impaired by illegal drugs or intoxicants of any kind, or over-intoxicated by alcohol…

…failure to cooperate fully or provide truthful information in a Tales of the Cocktail Foundation investigation

…If you observe or experience sexual violence, it is important to inform TOTCF, and/or contact a victim advocate organization by calling STAR’s 24×7 hotline at 1-855-435-7827.

from TOTC: Anti-Harassment Policy Statement3

..Tales of the Cocktail Foundation will make every reasonable effort to conduct all investigations into allegations of harassment in a manner that will protect the confidentiality of all parties. Notwithstanding the above, confidentiality is not absolute, and those with a legitimate business reason to know about the allegations will be informed.

Wait, if I see something, do I have to potentially report it? What if full cooperation will result in me reporting on someone I work for, directly or indirectly? Remember the policy includes not just sexual harassment, but if I see a colleague “over-intoxicated.” And note it says, “confidentiality is not absolute, and those with a legitimate business reason to know about the allegations will be informed.” I’m sure my boss would like to know who reported, and anyone that OK’d the spend for the event, could say they have a business need. This can put those who are forced to “cooperate fully” in a dangerous situation. Also, what about those of us that barely weigh 115 lbs? What if I get over-served and try to make it back to my hotel safely. Do I risk someone anonymously reporting me as intoxicated? What if I’m cold sober, but trip or walking funny because my feet hurt? Now, I’m afraid someone might report me and it will go to my company, then my co-workers will be asked if they thought I over-imbibed, was high or …

I understand they want to promote reporting, but why aren’t victims told to call the police? Why are we told to tell TOTC or their affiliated 3rd party? This sounds a bit like telling co-eds reporting a rape to the campus police, and then wondering why no police report is made.

Again, these questions would not be entering the mind of someone who knew about the code of conduct at the time of purchase. The fact TOTC decided to hide it, makes all of it come under suspicion.

My last complaint, why in the hell would anyone think announcing the arrest of a previous attendee for 3rd degree rape,4 seem like the best way to notify attendees of how safe they were via a mandatory code of conduct?

I understand what they may have tried to attempt, but it is hard not to fault the event organizers for being quite tone deaf. This announcement did not make me feel safe. It actually did the opposite. Why were the organizers not aware that such an announcement would trigger, “provoke an intense emotional and psychological reaction”5 in many attendees who had been harassed, abused, or raped. TOTC claims to be working with various non-profit organizations to create these new policies. Did TOTC not know that 1 in 3 women and 1 in 6 men were victims of “contact sexual violence?” (easily Googled statistics)6 If not the Tales of the Cocktail organizers, then why did didn’t any of the 3 non-profits, STAR, Green Dot, or Shift Change, offer resources for people being triggered? Yes, there were seminars, and events, AA meetings, but seriously was a Yoga class their idea of supporting victims? Don’t get me wrong I love that there were healthy alternatives or options, but we missed addressing a large part of the audience, that you created. Where was the help for the now newly triggered survivors? Most of the article seems to be focused on reporting, and steps taken to prevent future/current incidents, with no mention of helping those triggered by the report in and of itself. Two steps forward, but we dropped our left shoe in the mud.

If there was help, I apologize, but I didn’t know of any. The few people I talked to also did not know of any, either. I was around people who were triggered. After reading about the arrest, and then following the link to the NOLA.com article7, which was pretty graphic, and seeing the shit show starting on social media, some of my friends were triggered. Where could one go, and not be triggered? The people I talked to felt like our only choice was to cut back on events they had pre-paid for, leave the city, or stay in the hotel room. For the men and women who were triggered, but now HAD to work events, some very close to Bourbon Street, there was no choice. What a nightmare.

Maybe the hotline was for anyone, but everything I read online looked like all the help was for current accusations and trauma. Also, as I said, a little unnerving that I couldn’t find any information about calling police, or even call us(TOTC) and we will help you navigate the police force, or various support organizations. Why were we not advised to call 911?

I applaud the attempt at making things better, and safer. I applaud giving attendee access to a 24/7 hotline if something happens. But I do not appreciate the sensational way of informing people of your mandatory code of conduct, which I’m not even sure is legal or enforceable without proper notice. If you really wanted to be a force for change, why were you ashamed to tell us until after we bought a ticket?

In my humble opinion, this was not an empowering #metoo moment, but a #youfailedus. I wish the long standing event I’ve heard so much about good luck, and I hope it grows from this year’s constructive criticism.

I work best when there’s a safety trampoline of kindness.
~ Ruth Negga

Footnotes retrieved July 28, 2018:
1 Legal Advice via AVVO

2 Tales Code of Conduct & Anti-Harassment Policy Statement

3 TOTC: Anti-Harassment Policy Statement

4 Tales of the Cocktail Foundation Responds to Adam Seger’s Arrest July 18, 2018, 6:09 p.m

5 We Asked Trauma Therapists How to Deal With Triggering News Headlines About Sexual Assault October 12, 2017

6 CDC report 2015 September 25, 2017

7 Well-known Chicago bartender accused of sexual assault while in New Orleans in 2015 Updated July 23, 2018; Posted July 18, 2018

8 List of Non-profit support groups consulted:
STAR (Sexual Trauma Awareness and Response)
Green Dot (part of Alteristic: sexual and physical violence prevention organization)
Shift Change (providing sexual violence prevention education to the hospitality industry – according to the article Shift Change helped create the code of conduct)

Flowers aren’t enough

As an escape I watch sappy RomComs and TV shows about teens. They always show love as this passionate, tingly, shiney thing. Love is warm and fuzzy, with only one fight that’s easily cleared up in 90min or less. Real love is not always about passion. Sometimes real love is messy and painful and hard. Love isn’t just about saying your sorry and forgiveness. Flowers and chocolate can only heal very little, the very tiniest fissures in the human heart. You’ve got to look at yourself and say, and admit the things you don’t like. Then you need to work every day to try and be a better person. No you have to really look, and be honest. Love is scary and you can’t let “I’m sorry” be an excuse. It has to come with action. And if you don’t know what to do, keep trying, keep doing something. Something not for yourself, even taking out the trash says more than just saying “I’m sorry.”

Love isn’t perfect. You will make mistakes. You will hurt the person you love, and they will hurt you. But you work together, to learn, to grow so you won’t do it again. And if you do, you do everything you can to understand and really work on solutions, not just putting on a temporary bandage on it, with a squirt of Bactine. Accept that you are not perfect, and don’t expect them to be perfect either. It’s more than patience, it’s building trust.

Love isn’t an expensive gift, wrapped in pretty paper. It’s cleaning the cat box, every day, twice a day even. Doing the laundry when you see the basket is overflowing, getting someone a warm meal when they don’t feel like eating, a touch before the tears and sometimes, even more important, love is knowing when not to speak. When to stop asking, “What’s wrong?” Stop asking, “What can I do?” Love is knowing that something is wrong and being there, even if you don’t know that to do. Love doesn’t run away when it gets scared, or at least it comes back and says, “Sorry, I was scared. I’m here now.”

Grand guestures are fine, but it’s the daily little things that keep love alive. The constant thinking of someone, that is not you. Taking that walk when you’d rather stay on the couch watching TV. Stopping to fill the tank up on the way home, even when you know it could wait until tomorrow. Picking up your dirty t-shirt, folding the blanket, putting the dishes away, asking, “Can I do something for you?” Grabbing a kinderegg at the checkout and leaving a little surprise next to the milk. Getting up early and bringing home breakfast and coffee. And more importantly, love is staying quiet until they wake up. Getting to the airport early even though you detest airport Starbucks, because you know being there early helps with their anxiety. Offering to drive a sick cat to the vet. Sitting up next to someone when they can’t sleep. Leaving a note or a text when you know you’ll be late. Saying I love you every day, in every way you can think of, while always trying to think of new ways. You’d be surprised how much better you could make someone’s day, if you just make the bed, or put out a new bar of soap when you see the old one getting too small. It may seem stupid, but I feel it’s important to keep reminding them you give a shit. Little gestures say, I’m so happy you are in my life.

Love requires space to breathe. It can’t be controlled. That’s not love. That is obsession, and possession. No one ever said, I can’t wait to fall “in control.” “I wish I was obsessed.” The people you love won’t always do what you want. They won’t always be happy when you’re happy. They may get mad, or depressed. They may need to be quiet for hours or days. Love is understanding, and knowing you may not understand. You don’t always get to know, right now. Love is accepting you can not always fix it, right now. Sometimes you have to sit with the hurt, and just let it hurt. Love is letting someone cry, and understanding if they need to cry alone.

We can always wish that love will fix everything in 90min or less, but that’s not how it works. If you love someone, it’s going to hurt sometimes. It is going to be hard, sometimes, but it will be worth it. And is it really that hard to do the little things. The little things are what say, “I’m here.” I’m here to stay, even when it’s not fun, because you are worth it. You need to say not only I love you, but you are worth it. You are not alone, and it’s going to be alright.

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.
~ Lao Tzu

It’s a hard thing to imagine how somebody copes with grief and at the same time has to build a new life.
~ Caitriona Balfe

Love isn’t just about looking forward together. It’s about keeping each other in your peripheral vision.
~ Sensei Oddsox

For Monkey

Monkey is with me, but in a different way now. Last Sunday night, sometime before 10pm, we ran him to an all night ER vet. I hope we gave him a good death, and a good life.

Saturday, June 2, 2018
He spent the last few days playing “old man of Tuscany” lying out on the balcony in the sun. We even got him his own chair that was lower to ground, since jumping wasn’t easy anymore. Every time he thought I was going to move him or make him go inside he’d curl his little paws around the arms of the chair he was sitting in, as if to say, “Not yet Dad, just a little longer…”

Monkey as a kitten
Monkey as a kitten
I don’t think any person or animal has been with me as long, and as consistently. Yes, there are people I know and vaguely keep up with on Facebook, but we don’t talk. Not daily, not weekly, shit not even monthly, but I guess I am old. No one talks to anyone on the phone or even via chat on a weekly basis anymore. One friend I recently started talking to regularly, but I know if I didn’t send texts, and funny pics and make the effort to call, we probably would not be talking as often as we are. She helped me through hell and continued to check in when I was in a dark, dark place. A few people helped me through various periods of that time and I hate to admit … FARG! this was supposed to be about Monkey, not me.

Mr. Monkey was there, for all of it. The joy, the excitement, new loves, lost loves, yelling, the stress, the tears, school, jobs that came and went, he endured it all. I’m only happy he was able to live to see my life get happier. I do think partially why he left was because he thought I was finally OK. Me and Hollis are finally safe. He was always a guard kitty.

When I first got him and brought him home to my little studio on Goodman Ave. he spent most of the night sitting at the door. I’d try to get him to sleep on the bed, and he’d jump back down and sit right by the door all night. All day, every time he heard the elevator down the hall ding, he’d run to the door and do a little kitty growl. Took him few weeks until he learned what smells and people on my floor were safe.

Monkey kitten boxing
Monkey kitten boxing

When I got him I was between jobs, mostly working from home and waiting to get accepted into RIT’s Master’s in IT program. I had lots of free time, so we played. I built huge obstacle courses. I’d tie strings from one end of my studio to the other and hang little kitty toys from them. I could push the toys up and down the strings and they’d spin, ring, and make noise and he’d chase them all. I was so afraid he wouldn’t get enough exercise since my place was so small. I made “mountains” for him to climb out of books and pillows, and hid crinkly stuff all over. He’d dig and find them all and then hide them under my pillow. He loves crinkly things.

Broke into my hidden stash of Smarties
This ended up being a bad training program, because he also learned how to climb onto the kitchen counter and open my candy jar stealing neccos, smarties, and anything else he liked. I’d put a pop-tart on the counter and before I could get the toaster out, he’d jump on the counter and run away with the pop-tart.

Necco Stealing kitten
His other favorite game is jumping to catch little furry or felt mice. He would have been an awesome goal keeper. At least 3-4 times a day we’d play kitty soccer. And if I was busy and he wanted to play, he’d hide behind a door, or a pile of books and just jump out at me until I got the hint and started throwing toys for him. He also got in the habit of tossing coins off my bookshelf until he got my attention. Yes, he’d sit there, one paw poised in front of a stack of pennies and look at me. Then WING, off they’d go. If I didn’t get up, he’d move next to the stack of nickels. I usually got up before the quarters went flying. LEGOs, books, little cartoon figurines all ended up on the floor, until I finally started Velcro-ing the fragile shit to the shelves.

Sitting on my shoulder
He came with me everywhere. He’d sit on my shoulder while working, or while in the truck. If people said I couldn’t bring my kitten, I often stayed home. He was so small, I had a little Tupperware tray with a lid filled with litter as a travel litter box in my truck. If I went, he came with me. I brought a toy and his box.

Helping me study. He hated Oracle
When I had to work he sat on my shoulder until he got too big. Then he moved to my desk. I always had to pick out a desk big enough for working and a cat bed. I have so many photos of him on my desk, my laptop, pawing through my books or sleeping on my big old monitor for warmth, when it my apartment was cold. He was always with me.
hanging out with Moosejaw
hanging out with Moosejaw


Monkey helps with work

Once he started to get big, he could crawl and climb around a lot. I’d find all sorts of things knocked on the floor when I was gone. playing with the lightsOnce school started keeping me busy and I was on campus for longer and longer hours with 2 TA positions, GA responsibilities, tutoring hours, etc., I would ask friends to just check on him. Some days I would be on campus from 8am until after 11pm. Those days I would drop him off at kitty daycare. Well, not really, Monkey stayed with my friend who had 2 cats and only lived about 3 blocks up Goodman from my place, near East Ave. She was already working on her thesis project, and was home more often than I. Her apartment was ground level, so the cats could chase chipmunks outside the window. My little man was always sitting right by the window when my truck or motorcycle pulled up. I was told he could probably hear the Ducati as soon as I hit Goodman St.

Monkey and Hollis in Brooklyn
Of course he came with me when I moved to Brooklyn. Made a bed for him on top of my suitcases and computers in the back of my parent’s Subaru Forrester. He sat up there for whole 8-9hr drive. Didn’t take much research to realize bringing my 4×4 truck to NYC was not a brilliant idea. I sold the truck and my beloved Ducati. Yes, the Ducati that he’d jump to the window whenever he heard me coming. Part of me wondered how would he know I was on my way home? I started leaving the TV on if I was just going to the cafe to get coffee or something. I know, who is trained, me or the cat?

Monkey Girl & Monkey Boy
I still didn’t like leaving him home alone too long. He rode with me on the subways and buses from Flatbush to Hollis’ place in Alphabet City back when I was cat sitting for Hollis, or just spending the weekend. Actually Avenue C was a pretty cool place, not too gentrified yet, while we were there. I’d put him in a crate on a little roller thing and trucked him with me onto the Q or B subway to Union Square then catch the M14d bus and walk the last few blocks. Again, I didn’t want to leave him home alone too much. Fortunately he got along with Hollis’ 3 cats. Since Hollis had a female cat name Monkey, he was renamed Monkey Boy and hers, Monkey Girl. I do think they became pretty good friends. He kept his distance from the oldest cat, Eve, but slept butt to butt with Monkey Girl occasionally. Daisy, the bratty one of the bunch, he played with more often. He knew how to nip at her tail to get her to play chase.

He traveled to LA with us, the road trip that was a bit of hell and a bit of adventure all wrapped up in a bad flu. Even he got sick on the trip, but we found a vet in Sedona. We all spent some much needed nights of relaxing in the pretty sleepy little town.

hire wire act
In Los Angeles, I think he loved looking out the window again. Whether it was through the flowering vines of Los Feliz or crawling along the metal beams 20ft up, in the loft. He chased and caught cockroaches with his sisters, Daisy and Monkey Girl. An empty water carton was a good 20minutes of fun chasing Daisy in and out of it. On the cold mornings when you could see your breath while lying in bed… I’d look down and see him snuggled with all the other cats on the bed. Fortunately in LA those nights were few, but they were COLD.

The last few months, we’ve had to get a staircase for the bed. He tried to play. Unlike the hours of tossing mice when he was kitten, the play times now lastly barely minutes. We’ve left his favorite toy on the floor, just in case. I do believe, I have to believe your pets don’t leave. I have to believe, if they leave, they can come back for little visits. I still put his blanket out in my office, even though he never slept on it here. I keep the window open he likes to look out at night. And once in a while, I just think of him and my vision gets blurry, my head starts to hurt and tears roll down my cheek.

Monkey liked Coffee
Your Coffee was never safe

Hollis & Monkey 2018
Hollis & Monkey 2018
I have been taking care of him and more importantly and definitely the harder job, he has been taking care of me for 15 years. He was the best. I will miss our illegal naps on the couch. Watching him play with Hollis’ hair. He so loves her hair. I’ll miss his little snorts and growls while playing. His loud purrs. So much I will miss.

Fifteen years!

I don’t think I’ve been with anything or anyone for that long. Again, not on a day in and day out basis. We didn’t take a lot of trips, and have been home with him a lot. Getting up and not having to prepare any meds, or clean a box, or sweep litter is so unnerving. I really don’t know what to do some mornings. It hasn’t been a week. I make my tea and sit, and slowly go numb. Then something reminds me of him and I smile. We had a good run, a really damn good fucking run, my friend.

I keep telling myself, it was time. It was time. He told us. He was ready. To the Summerlands my good friend, and you’re always welcome where ever I may be.
Monkey nap time

Sorrow is how we learn to love. Your heart isn’t breaking. It hurts because it’s getting larger. The larger it gets, the more love it holds.
~ Rita Mae Brown

His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Looking for notes, words and fun

Yes, this was supposed to be about my journey back to writing, but I’m already going to change it to my journey back to just plain being creative. Whether that manifests as learning katas and using the movements to channel and grow creative chi, writing posts of random thoughts, actually preparing “Jim” for submission, new fiction *gasp*, or like the last few days… practicing a little piano.

Ronja Damkjær Petersen, Modern Music School
Me with Ronja Damkjær Petersen @ Modern Music School (2016)
I started this musical journey about 4yrs ago. Hard to believe I started April/May 2014. The photo is from when I received my “2 years a student” certificate, dated May 27, 2016. We had so much fun. Best part of learning in a studio set up for group and band lessons was that we had access to lots of digital keyboards in one room. Some days my instructor, Ronja, would turn on 3 or 4 of the other keyboards in the practice room. We’d try to play all the parts of a recent popular tune. One day we tried to play all the part for a dance/funk tune.

Ronja would play the melody on one keyboard, and maybe some drum beats. I’d jump around doing the horns on another, and maybe bass and background vocals on a third. We’d take turns being keyboard, horns or rhythm sections. Other times she’d let me try improvisation. She’d play some sequence of chords on one keyboard, while I’d do little runs using 3-4 notes, graduating to a pentatonic scale up and down another keyboard. I have two or 3 videos of my fetal attempts at improvisation. Nothing amazing, but they are fun to watch if for no other reason that you see two people having fun. I made funny faces when I messed up, but just laughed and kept going. That’s jazz, as Thelonious Monk said, “There are no wrong notes, some are just more right than others.”

Taking lessons at a music school in a practice room with 3-4 keyboards and sometimes other instruments is one of the reasons finding an instructor now is hard. I’m not sure sitting at a lone acoustic piano would be as fun. Granted 75% of the time it was just me sitting at the piano and her in the usual teacher’s chair next to me. But the times we let loose little and she’d play one of the other keyboards playing horns or whatever, and we just tried stuff out were some of the best lessons. It really helped to understand some of the music theory concepts. Why are the horns doing x chord progression, against the melody? What part is the bass filling in, that the keyboard or pianist doesn’t have to play?

Also music schools like Modern Music School (MMS), often have a “band concert” 2-3 times a year. They throw together a few students and find songs where no one has anything to difficult to play. My was a bunch of super beginner adults. Many of the kids, now teenagers, had been playing together for years and were really good. Composing their own songs and shit. My band, “Not My Tempo,” consisted of me on the keyboards, a drummer who had less than months of lessons, a guitarist who never learned the song, and thankfully, a decent singer. We met once a week for 4-6 weeks in addition to our lessons. The night of the concert we knew our guitarist was going to be iffy, so Ronja’s husband rounded out the band and played bass for us.

We didn’t sound very good. Someone turned my keyboard volume down during sound check, so if you were in the audience, good chance you didn’t even hear me. BUT it was so much fun. I was mouthing the chord changes to the guitar player, since he kept missing them, but again FUN. Plus I learned it is much easier to stay in time with a drummer, even if his timing slows and quickens, than it is to stay with a metronome. Fortunately, there was a soundboard and the event was recorded. Maybe no one more than 2 rows back heard me, but on the DVD you hear me.

Anyway, why am I posting this. Well, I fell for the Simply Piano advert, thinking at least I’ll start practicing, again. Even though I am a patreon and YouTube subscriber to Bill Hilton’s tutorials I’ve fallen WAY behind. I think he’s on beginner lesson 24, and I’m on like lesson 5. Great vids, but I haven’t kept up. This cheesy piano app has segments that are 5min or less. Shit, I can do 5minutes. Even my YouTube/Patreon “instructor” only asks that you do 20minutes a day. Poor Ronja had to deal with my lack of practicing for weeks. She fortunately was not threatened by my YouTube instructor, but instead happily incorporated his jazz inprov ideas into my lessons.

Ronja was technically a vocal coach. After the first year another good instructor Song was leaving and Ronja filled in until the new teacher came on. We just hit it off so well. She became a great friend, part-time therapist (half kidding), and mentor. Although, I think the mentoring went both ways at times. I helped her with ideas on how to promote her band, and some career advice. She listened to me laugh and bitch at a time when I had almost zero local friends in California. We spent the first 10 sometimes 20min or so just chatting. Then next 30-40 working on songs and playing, then often the last 10-15min we geeked out over music theory.

I was into jazz, but she was not only a trained vocalist, but like many music instructors, had trained for years in classical piano. I was in no fear of going beyond her piano teaching ability any time soon. Even with my lack of discipline, and weird music tastes, she was just happy to be teaching songs that weren’t the latest Disney theme. We worked on songs from an “easy swing” book I bought that included Count Basie tunes.

When I said I wanted to learn “Linus and Lucy,” which was way above my ability, she agreed as long as I understood it may not sound like anything for many months. I worked on it in addition to my easier pieces. Only took a few weeks before I could play the first 8 bars at about 40% tempo. A few more weeks, it was still slow, but people could tell what song I was at least attempting to play.

Then I introduced her to Thelonious Monk. I found an easy arrangement of “Well You Needn’t” that I’m still hammering away at. Before we moved and I stopped practicing for months, the song was passable. The best thing about jazz, and this song in particular, was how much fun it was to pick apart and look at the music theory behind it. Ronja is a big music theory geek. Unlike any of my other instructors she gave music theory some application. She show how it fit into the pop songs on the radio, the jazz tunes I was learning to play. Sometimes I’d send her a video of Thelonious Monk playing. She’s take time to look at it and even thought it was not something I could play, but we could watch what chord progressions he used and pick apart the music theory behind his choices. This for me was super interesting, and made me love not trying to play pian, but love trying to understand jazz and theory.

It’s going to be super hard to find an instructor and a school with all the same advantages. The few instructors I’ve found are into “Church music” and classical. None seem like they are going to be into jazz, or able to make theory fun. I can’t afford lessons right now, and as someone said, when the student is ready the teacher will appear. Let’s just hope Simple Piano app will make sure I’m ready.

My point? It’s hard to start writing, again. It’s hard to start playing the piano, again. Sometimes just letting yourself be creative is hard. You just have to get through the hard, and look for the fun. If was fun once, the fun will return. It’s probably just self-created fear.

Pay the thunder no mind – listen to the birds.
~ Eubie Blake

Like a pianist runs her fingers over the keys, I’ll search my mind for what to say.
~ Maya Angelou

Where’s the motorcycle?

Just a quick post. I was going to put this on Facebook, but I’m trying to limit my social media a bit. I’ll think, “just checking on one thing,” or one person, and next thing I know it’s 3 hrs later.

Cyd Charisse and Fred Astaire in Band Wagon, 1953
Like today I just spent probably over an hour, maybe two just searching Netflix. There wasn’t anything I was searching for, just killing time. Last night at least I had a goal. After reading about Cyd Charisse, the famous dancer and actor from the 1940’s, in Erika Jayne’s book, I was hoping to find one of her old movies. The Band Wagon has scenes on YouTube, but it’s too old. Most of the old, really old now, good movies with dancing and Fred Astaire, or just good drama with guys like James Cagney aren’t on things like Netflix. Movies from the 1980’s are now the “classics.” Is TMC playing Aliens, The Karate Kid or The Breakfast Club?

Anyway, I did watch The Lovely Bones, after finishing the book. What does it say that I’m more upset about the lack of the two motorcycle riding characters, than any other changes? Loved Stanley Tucci, but where’s Hal’s bike shop? I may be biased, but I think putting a character on a motorcycle gives them a little something more. I realize the movie adaptation just didn’t have enough time to flesh out the sister’s boyfriend let alone her boyfriend’s older brother. It was more about the main character’s version of heaven. Even some of the more interesting parts of her mother flashed by on the screen so quick I know I didn’t see them the first time I saw the film.

Let’s hope the adaptation of A Discovery of Witches is better.

Note to self: When you write that book, add in a character who rides a Ducati, an old Norton, or Shit, even a Honda CBR.

You are on your own. You are not protected by two tons of steel, rubber, foam padding and safety glass. Neither are you steering two tons of guided missile toward other cars, people and property. If you are prepared to accept the responsibility of your own actions, then motorcycling can be both safe and thrilling. Riding is an art as well as a craft and no amount of explanation can take the place of experience.
~ Theresa Wallach, Easy Motorcycle Riding, 1970

Conversations about Fiction

I’m back. Writing about writing, instead of writing, but hey I just read part of an “advice to writers” interveiw with John Irving, and he said two things.

First, write, then write some more. He said writing was like working out, you have to just do it and build a tolerance up to write lots. Of course I’m paraphrasing, but he did compare it to working out. He also said he learned more about how to write from wrestling, as a competitor, then later as a coach, than he did in any classroom. So here I am writing.

Second, He said to read. Since I have some spare time I’m back to my old ways of reading more than one book at a time. If I have time, I actually get more reading done this way. When one book starts to get boring, instead of abandoning it, I can just switch to another. Just talked to a friend who has some time the next few weeks, and she said she likes to bounce back and forth between non-fiction and fiction. Thanks, Cheryl!

My books to kick start my writing juices are now plenty and varied. I finished Lucky by Alice Sebold (for some reason I always want to change that to Seibold). I’ve started The Lovely Bones, hoping for some inspiration on how to change gears from writing non-fiction/memoir (A Girl Called Jim) to fiction (in progress). It’s actually interesting seeing how she wrote in Lucky, and had to guess what the people around her were thinking and their motives. Then in the fictional Lovely Bones, how the characters were given background and motivation. Like I wonder if one younger character was given and older brother so he had a way to be mobile. For example, 14 and 15yrs olds can’t drive and don’t normally have someone to cart them around town, but give them an older brother with a motorcycle. Now he’s mobile without involving parents.

I’m also on the 3rd book of N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Sky triology, The Stone Sky. The first book I loved and devoured. The second, I loved at first, then weathered trying to get answers. Now a couple hundred pages into the third book, I’m struggling to finish. The characters I loved are gone. Well, not really, I still love the main character… hard to explain without killing the book. Now there are a few characters who talk in a sort of science code. It’s slowing things down way too much for me. I have to think. I’ve actually read this one section 4-5 times over. Finally, just yesterday was able to go “Oh I get it…” and move on. Anyway, happy to be able to continue on, but the writing feels so far away from me, it’s not inspiring to write. Good to read, yes. Inspiring me to write, not so much. Then again, I’m less than half way into the third book. I have hope.

So I’ve taken combined advice from my friend and John Irving. Read lots and swap between fiction and non-fiction/memoir. I was gifted another memoir book, Pretty Mess by Erika Jayne. It reads like a first book, but it’s damn entertaining. Plus, she does not pretend it’s all her writing. She has a co-author. I’m curious now that she’s got the first book kinks out of her system, how she would do on her second book. For every author I’ve read, you can always feel the writing getting better from book one to second and third. If they make it to a 5th, they’re awesome.

Getting to a 5th book is often like a earning a green or brown belt in karate. Green being the first advanced belt in the style I practiced, followed by brown, than black.

Also, I started a couple non-fiction books about writing fiction. The first was The Mental Game of Writing by James Scott Bell. Hollis gifted this to me years ago in one of her many attempts to support my writing. That year I was given a bunch of books on writing and a pillow that read WRITER, and a motivation poster. That book also said to just decide you are a writer and start writing, very similar to John Irving’s advice. Unlike Mr. Irving, Mr. Bell says to surround yourself with things that make you feel like a writer. He bought a mug that said writer, put up photos of inspirational authors and quotes. I already have a mug and the pillow, so… out of excuses.

The second non-fiction book I’ve started to read I bought after I joined a writing Meetup in Kent… that place, that we shall never speak of again. A really cool guy recommended Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, which I haven’t touched. It’s about writing, but in reviews on the book I’ve read she goes into being a single mom, addiction, then finding “faith.” Yeah, that’s not going to hit the top of my list anytime soon. Both guys who ran the meetup also strongly recommended The Writer’s Journey by Christopher Vogler. I’ve started it like 3-4 times and couldn’t get through it. Even while on a plane, it put me to sleep. Although, I was highly stressed that weekend. I plan on giving it another chance. Some books can only be read at the right time. Sorry, long explanation about how I bought this last book. It’s not Bird by Bird, or The Writer’s Journey.

Anyway, it was found on a whim during one of the many stressful days I was wandering a used bookstore, trying not to think about my lack of social life, and the other more serious stressors going on in my life. While searching for Writer’s Journey, I did find Bird by Bird, and then this collection of interviews about fiction writing. The only author I even recognized was John Irving, but since I’m a fan (love Widow for Year) and it was cheap, I bought it. Converstaions on Writing Fiction, Alexander Neubauer is my last book.

Now with books in every room, on my night stand, the office, the “reading room,” I’m set. I just hit over a 1000 words today. Do me a favor and send some white light, good juju and anti-nargles dust my way.

Most of the basic material a writer works with is acquired before the age of fifteen.
~ Willa Cather

I went for years not finishing anything. Because, of course, when you finish something you can be judged.
~ Erica Jong

high wire act

Been trying all week to think of something to write about, but I just don’t have anything I feel that strongly about. I was going to maybe start re-writing Jim from my current 50yr old perspective, but … well that just does not sound fun.  Plus, who wants to read that, yet again?  I’ll get to it, someday, but not today.  Also, I’ve been helping Hollis with her writing.

No, I’m not editing or doing any of the writing, just a sounding board.  And, it’s hard. Hard to not want her to put things out there people may react to negatively, things that may hurt her. But at the same time I can’t be the one to tell her to shut up.  I’m always on this weird high wire, fall down this side and you’re over protecting her, and stifling her.  Denial and pretending something never happened can be more harmful than.. well it’s just taking a cut and trying to seal it with rock salt.  But at the same time, we do have rules to follow. We live in a world of people with not all the best intentions and we need to be aware, eyes open.  Fall off the other side and you invite drama and chaos.  I also try to be cognizant on where she is at, and do my best to keep her creative expression feeling empowering.

I know from my own up and downs during the writing of the various versions of Jim, reliving the past can be draining.  She wants and needs to write, and writes well.  I want and need to write, but haven’t found anything to say.  It’s weird. When I’m not trying to write, I can think of stories and ideas to share. When I actually sit down at a keyboard, poof.  I type stuff like this, writing about not writing.

PatienceOh well, I’m hoping writing is like karate.  No one starts out kicking to the head.  We all walk out onto the dojo floor with our gi on wrong, and our belt tied half-assed. But, day after day, or night after night we keep bowing onto the floor. We keep trying again. Once I was allowed to spar, I loved it from the first.  I got hit A LOT. I got swept onto the floor on my butt A LOT, but learned so much from every session.  No matter how bad I was, I wanted to try again and try and try.  So here I am in my jumbled gi and mis-tied belt.   It’s not as fun yet, but I’m pretty sure my gi pants are still on backwards.

Thank you for letting me join another round.

No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.
~ Alice Walker

What am I?

Not the focus of this blog, but something I plan to be touching on more. Just before I went offline I started a blog with Hollis called “I love Genderqueer.” I stopped it for a couple of reasons. First, I started getting nervous it might hurt Hollis’ new job. Let me be clear, she never told me to get rid of it, but being someone who’s been fired and black balled, more than once, for being Gay I was afraid. She had just started a new job with a big, global corporation. A corporation similar to the ones where I experienced discrimination. She was only offered a 6month trial contract.  I didn’t want anything I wrote to be the cause for why they decided not to give her another contract.  Second, and this is still part of my prior transphobia I will admit, I was getting tired of explaining to people, “Uhm no I’m not trans, I don’t want to be a man. That’s not any more right than being called a woman….[insert sigh and eye rolls].”

Quick aside, and more on this in later posts: I can say now, I’m not offended by being mistaken as trans, FTM. Thanks to the help of, well, some of my trans friends. And not by any overt conversations we’ve had, but just by knowing them. And more importantly, they all still call me their friend. They still accept me as their friend even though I did not decide to follow their path.

This may sound weird, but not all, let’s say “non-straights/non-cisgendered” accept all.  There is discrimination in our ranks. Just like many Gay men don’t like those that are “too Gay,” there are other variations of “too this,” vs. “not really that enough.”

Also, my ability to claim or reclaim Genderqueerness  solidified during the few months of volunteering for the Louisville Youth Group. Meeting and just plain observing the number of non-binary members, who were so strong in their non-binaryness.  Seeing how unapologetic many of the young adults were about declaring their gender identity, even if it occasionally clashed with what us “older folks” might consider their gender expression. Then hearing a few of the older than me folks saying “these kids just need to pick a side,” and realizing how wrong that is. How dangerous. But even in face of ignorant elders these, “kids” knew who they were, fought for who they were and could be, without apologies. It was amazing to see.

I still remember vividly when some guy who was there to talk about personal finances asked the group a question and looked at one of the young adults with their hands up and sheepishly asked, “Ma’am?” Then was answered with a very direct and very strong, yet still polite, “Sir.” At that age I would never have corrected an adult. Actually, I’m not sure I ever have. Although, I can blame a fair amount of my reluctance on the fact that sir didn’t feel any less wrong, or more correct, than ma’am.

Hmm, wrote way more about that than I planned. Anyway, my point today was to talk about naming. But names and titles get mixed up with gender more often than not.  As many of you know, I am currently engaged. And what the hell will I be referred to in the future? I’ve always dreaded, no abhorred the word “wife.” Yes, there are strong women who claim wife, but to me it throws back to the old legal status of property. Adultery was originally considered a crime against the husband, “taking of property.” Not only did I not want to be anyone’s property, I did not want my partner in life to be considered or reduced to my property. The word is just filled with images I am repulsed by.

So, what will I be called?

A brief internet search didn’t help much. (See Gender Neutral/Queer Titles from the Tumblr Gender Queeries).  Partner, sounds too business like, and Significant Other, seriously, that just takes too long to say. The shorter SO sounds stupid to me, and spouse, I guess is OK but…   Imzadi? I’ve never heard of “Imzadi,” and the explanation alone most likely results in raised eye brows followed by a quizzicle, “seriously?” The best I’ve come up with is Companion. Not great, but it reminds me of a song I love by Mark Cohen, “True Companion.”

Names, and nicknames seem to follow me, from sensei, and odd to Pepsi-no-ice, left behind, and Jim. It’s possible I’m worrying too much about nothing. I’ve carried so many and varied nicknames, it should seem natural that a new one will find me when the time is right.

“My grandfather would have loved to have met you,” he told her huskily. “He would have called you ‘She Moves Trees Out of His Path.’ ”

She looked lost, but his da laughed. He’d known the old man, too.

“He called me ‘He Who Must Run into Trees,'” Charles explained, and in a spirit of honesty, a need for his mate to know who he was, he continued, “or sometimes ‘Running Eagle.’ ”

” ‘Running Eagle’?” Anna puzzled it over, frowning at him. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Too stupid to fly,” murmured his father with a little smile.”
~ Patricia Briggs, Hunting Ground