But I hate fat children.
I like
and I like
but I hate
and
Again, I love
but I hate
Thank You. That is all.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
I like fat puppies, but I hate fat children.
I like fat puppies.
But I hate fat children.
I like
and I like
but I hate
and
Again, I love
but I hate
Thank You. That is all.
But I hate fat children.
I like
and I like
but I hate
and
Again, I love
but I hate
Thank You. That is all.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Help Save Target!
Save them by pissing them off, harassing them, and not allowing them a moment's peace, that is. Because I really want to continue shopping there.
I read Savage Love every week as soon as it's available. This week, Dan Savage revealed something so dismaying about Target, my favorite source of shit to put on my couch, shit to put in my kitchen, shit to put on my floor, and jones soda. And the new chocolate. I hate to say, I love Target. And unlike WalMart, where someone is always beating their children, it's somewhat pleasant to go to.
Unfortunately, Dan Savage has revealed this week that Target allows pharmacists to not dispense emergency contraception, based on their personal whims. Shame, Target, shame. This is either a backhanded appeal to the christian right, who would rather shop at WalMart (who completely caters to their absurd demand that minority religions control community morality), or an invertibrate refusal to take a stand either way, assuming that red state pharmacists will be comforted by their ability to force pregnancy on unfortunate skanks, and coastal folks might never notice.
In his column this week, Mr. Savage encourages readers to follow the 'contact us' link from Target, and write to Target expressing how fucking EVIL this policy is. How fucking spineless (please don't say fuck to target) this policy is. Unfortunately, it's pretty fucking hard to find an email link on that site. In fact, the closest you can get is a form. And it takes a while to find.
So here it is.
And if you're thinking that pharmacists have a right to follow their moral blahblahblah despite blahblahblah- think about it this way.
Did you want to be a veterinarian when you were a kid? Even for a day?
Did some mean older kid say that veterinarians have to put kitties to sleep?
And you decided not to be a veterinarian.
Because that's what people do. People do not become employed in fields where they have to do things that upset them. Of course, society today says that people should never have to feel uncomfortable in the workplace. Even if they choose that workplace without considering the full spectrum of duties that are implied.
Fact: The Contraceptive Pill has been approved for use since May 9, 1960. For a Pharmacist to have entered the field without knowledge of this medical advance, they'd have to have been in practice for 45 years. Even assuming that they were some kind of pharmacy prodigy, and soared through pharmacy school and undergrad in 3 years (impossible), they'd be 65 now. Retirement age. Retire, dinosaurs, if it's so unethical. And those are the only ones who can even claim that they didn't know they'd have to do something they consider killing babies. (and, really, scientifically, isn't. at all. and I'm pro killing babies)
Younger ones are just making people pay for their poor career choices. Forced sex resulting in a need for emergency contraception is, unfortunately, far more common than the forcible drafting of unsuspecting young evangelicals into pharmacy school by white-coat clad press gangs. They don't have to be pharmacists; unfortunately, thus far, pharmacies are the only place to get emergency contraception.
Don't fucking get me started on gynecologists who won't perform abortions or prescribe contraception.
Write Target. Tell them you love Target. Even if you don't. (This is how to get things from companies, by the way- present yourself as a loyal customer with a single issue). Tell them you're depressed, dissapointed, betrayed, shocked. Tell them you'd hate, hate, hate to have to shop somewhere else. But that you will.
I don't want to have to stop going to Target. But I might have to.
I read Savage Love every week as soon as it's available. This week, Dan Savage revealed something so dismaying about Target, my favorite source of shit to put on my couch, shit to put in my kitchen, shit to put on my floor, and jones soda. And the new chocolate. I hate to say, I love Target. And unlike WalMart, where someone is always beating their children, it's somewhat pleasant to go to.
Unfortunately, Dan Savage has revealed this week that Target allows pharmacists to not dispense emergency contraception, based on their personal whims. Shame, Target, shame. This is either a backhanded appeal to the christian right, who would rather shop at WalMart (who completely caters to their absurd demand that minority religions control community morality), or an invertibrate refusal to take a stand either way, assuming that red state pharmacists will be comforted by their ability to force pregnancy on unfortunate skanks, and coastal folks might never notice.
In his column this week, Mr. Savage encourages readers to follow the 'contact us' link from Target, and write to Target expressing how fucking EVIL this policy is. How fucking spineless (please don't say fuck to target) this policy is. Unfortunately, it's pretty fucking hard to find an email link on that site. In fact, the closest you can get is a form. And it takes a while to find.
So here it is.
And if you're thinking that pharmacists have a right to follow their moral blahblahblah despite blahblahblah- think about it this way.
Did you want to be a veterinarian when you were a kid? Even for a day?
Did some mean older kid say that veterinarians have to put kitties to sleep?
And you decided not to be a veterinarian.
Because that's what people do. People do not become employed in fields where they have to do things that upset them. Of course, society today says that people should never have to feel uncomfortable in the workplace. Even if they choose that workplace without considering the full spectrum of duties that are implied.
Fact: The Contraceptive Pill has been approved for use since May 9, 1960. For a Pharmacist to have entered the field without knowledge of this medical advance, they'd have to have been in practice for 45 years. Even assuming that they were some kind of pharmacy prodigy, and soared through pharmacy school and undergrad in 3 years (impossible), they'd be 65 now. Retirement age. Retire, dinosaurs, if it's so unethical. And those are the only ones who can even claim that they didn't know they'd have to do something they consider killing babies. (and, really, scientifically, isn't. at all. and I'm pro killing babies)
Younger ones are just making people pay for their poor career choices. Forced sex resulting in a need for emergency contraception is, unfortunately, far more common than the forcible drafting of unsuspecting young evangelicals into pharmacy school by white-coat clad press gangs. They don't have to be pharmacists; unfortunately, thus far, pharmacies are the only place to get emergency contraception.
Don't fucking get me started on gynecologists who won't perform abortions or prescribe contraception.
Write Target. Tell them you love Target. Even if you don't. (This is how to get things from companies, by the way- present yourself as a loyal customer with a single issue). Tell them you're depressed, dissapointed, betrayed, shocked. Tell them you'd hate, hate, hate to have to shop somewhere else. But that you will.
I don't want to have to stop going to Target. But I might have to.
Monday, October 31, 2005
A recipe I'd like to share.
It's getting time for casseroles, and warm things from the oven. Tomorrow I'm going to try to make baked ziti. But for now, here's a recipe I give to the world-
Disgusting Tasty Casserole-(Spinach Sweet Potato Casserole)
Two large white potatoes (any kind- waxy yellow or fluffy white will be fine)
Two large sweet potatoes
5-10 strips bacon
1/2-1 lovely onion
1/2 c. cheese, shredded (fontina, queso quesadilla, monterey jack, gruyere, cheddar- anything melty)
1 small package frozen spinach
Butter, salt, pepper, seasonings (garlic is nice or dill and a little sour cream or rosemary and roasted garlic, or roasted red peppers, or anything that happens to be around)
Dice uncooked bacon and place in the bottom of a square casserole dish. Dice the onion small as you like. Peel and cut the white and sweet potatoes into chunks, and parboil (lightly). Either zap them in the microwave or cook stovetop. It's important to leave them a little less done than you would for mashed potatoes. Cook spinach a little less than package directions. Put the casserole dish with onion and bacon into a hot oven (375-400), 5-10 minutes, or until onion begins to look transparent and bacon looks cooked.
Drain potatoes and spinach. Remove casserole pan from oven, and add potato chunks and spinach to onions and bacon. Smash everything up together with a wooden spoon. Add butter seasonings, smash a little more, and then add cheese. Return to oven for 15-20 more minutes.
Variation: Use leftover baked or mashed potatoes in place of parboiled. Salad dressing (ranch or creamy ceasar - i could totally move to the midwest) can be added in place of butter and seasonings. Bacon can be omitted, but what's the point.
Disgusting Tasty Casserole-(Spinach Sweet Potato Casserole)
Two large white potatoes (any kind- waxy yellow or fluffy white will be fine)
Two large sweet potatoes
5-10 strips bacon
1/2-1 lovely onion
1/2 c. cheese, shredded (fontina, queso quesadilla, monterey jack, gruyere, cheddar- anything melty)
1 small package frozen spinach
Butter, salt, pepper, seasonings (garlic is nice or dill and a little sour cream or rosemary and roasted garlic, or roasted red peppers, or anything that happens to be around)
Dice uncooked bacon and place in the bottom of a square casserole dish. Dice the onion small as you like. Peel and cut the white and sweet potatoes into chunks, and parboil (lightly). Either zap them in the microwave or cook stovetop. It's important to leave them a little less done than you would for mashed potatoes. Cook spinach a little less than package directions. Put the casserole dish with onion and bacon into a hot oven (375-400), 5-10 minutes, or until onion begins to look transparent and bacon looks cooked.
Drain potatoes and spinach. Remove casserole pan from oven, and add potato chunks and spinach to onions and bacon. Smash everything up together with a wooden spoon. Add butter seasonings, smash a little more, and then add cheese. Return to oven for 15-20 more minutes.
Variation: Use leftover baked or mashed potatoes in place of parboiled. Salad dressing (ranch or creamy ceasar - i could totally move to the midwest) can be added in place of butter and seasonings. Bacon can be omitted, but what's the point.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Barren Bitches Be Crazy
So some dryin' up bitches be freezin' they eggs.
Fertility is the catch in gender equality. It used to be too much fertility held women back. The pill fixed that. Women can fuck like men, and choose when to carry a pregnancy to the end. Unfortunately, contraception is too good when used well. Women who've chosen to delay childbearing are beginning to find that they've dosed themselves right straight through their reproductive years.
So women feel the need to make choices that leave them stranded; either they dedicate their biologically useful years to economically useful purposes, or they have children they can't afford with partners that may just be good enough. These are tough times. The entrance of women into the workplace, and the use of the second income in middle class households to enter into bidding wars for real estate, and thus causing the booming, glorging, evil fucking rise in housing prices in all decent regions, has caused a type of life inflation.
We need more to start families, more money, more stability, more time to find a partner. And women haven't gained any more time. The gains in female life expectancy from better preventative care and better education for women happen in post-menopausal, non-fertile years. Women have longer lives than men- they just have shorter productive ones.
So bitches be angry that they've got to make choices. The impression given by the whole world, for years and years, was that a woman, a girl, could do whatever she wants, make any choices, and no doors would be closed to her. Unfortunately, biology doesn't work like that. Even with recent advances in egg freezing, biology doesn't work like that. Most women won't have the choices at 40 that they hand at 20. Most men will. Nearly fuckin' all men will. A man has to work hard to be infertile. Even with rising obesity, the risk of impotence from type ii diabetes doesn't render a man infertile. Ejaculation and harvesting can still occur.
And men will always want younger partners. Why? Because it makes sense that way. For decades, (generations, centuries, all of humanity thus far) a woman brought the fertility, a man brought the resources. Women get fertility early; men get resources later. Despite that, until very recently (historically speaking), a man was always very likely to outlive his wife. That's a digression. Recently, society has decided that both partners are responsible for providing heat and meat. So women have gotten older, closer in age to their male partners. They want and/or need individual material success prior to the baby making and the permanant coupling. Thus, the delayed childbearing.
So, a proposal.
It's not going to go back to the way it was. Women aren't going to give up careers in order to have children. Most women don't want to give up their dream baby and dream baby carriage and dream baby room and dream baby wallpaper and dream baby nanny in order to afford those things. And barring fundamental cultural change, men aren't going to suddenly begin marrying women past childbearing years in droves.
So how about we change what we can, to get women a few more years?
Fact: Girl children score higher on tests of school readyness than boys of the same age.
Fact (not true or proven): Middle School is fucking useless.
Fact: Cutting four years out of the public education system for half of all students would leave to massive savings.
So, we start girls in kindergarten at 4 instead of five. Mostly, they can handle it. The age of 5 and some months for kindergarten readiness is already a compromise between the social and verbal abilities of girl children and boy children. Then, we cut out a few years of middle school for girls- all three, or one or two. Girls go on to high school, and are prepared for college or public vocational education (which there would be money for, by cutting a few thousand children per year out of the educational system). So your average college freshman girl would be 14-16 instead of 17-19. That will leave her extra years to begin her career or graduate education before beginning to run down her biological clock.
Before this idea is dismissed as stupid bullshit (which it is) consider how it's actually the way that life has been designed. It feels like gross gender bias to even think about taking girls out of school earlier than boys- after all, isn't that what they did in other countries! But I'm proposing, not pulling them out early, but pushing them through faster. Women have always assumed adult responsabilities before their male peers. Maybe this is why so many goddamned livejournalling gothwearing eatingdisorder having teen girls feel life is so meaningless, and engage in such sad behavior and ridiculous angsty bullshit. Maybe female adolescence is a myth. Maybe it's just that their development has been placed on a male-centric, male-designed timetable. We've got to recognize biology for a moment. We've got to recognize tradition. Maybe we've even got to embrace it.
Of course, the real objection to this plan wouldn't be based on gender bias- it would be based on sex. Parents would be terrified that exposed to older boys younger, their girls would be having sex at a younger age. This knee jerk reaction probably would keep this proposal from ever being considered. We're so invested, culturally, in the idea of proms and dating and sock hoppes and malt shoppes. We can't imagine a world in which growing up doesn't mean dating the boy in math class, getting stuck with pins on prom night, the blushing fumblings in the back of borrowed cars...shameful, lonely, gropings towards second base. Of course, this isn't the way it goes now anyway. It's never been the way it goes. Girls date older boys, boys from somewhere else. Or they don't date. Or they im some guy on the internet and try fellatio in a parking lot. The sexual world of teenagers will never be clean cut, reluctantly chaste, and socially acceptable.
If I had started high school at 12 instead of middle school at 11, I'd have graduated at 16. College would have ended at 20. Now, at 23, I could be midway through a real job, instead of slinging coffee to people with real futures. I'm dating a man ten years older than me anyway. Of course, I don't want children. I'd gladly throw my fertile years some barren bitches' way for some kizzash.
Think about it.
Fertility is the catch in gender equality. It used to be too much fertility held women back. The pill fixed that. Women can fuck like men, and choose when to carry a pregnancy to the end. Unfortunately, contraception is too good when used well. Women who've chosen to delay childbearing are beginning to find that they've dosed themselves right straight through their reproductive years.
So women feel the need to make choices that leave them stranded; either they dedicate their biologically useful years to economically useful purposes, or they have children they can't afford with partners that may just be good enough. These are tough times. The entrance of women into the workplace, and the use of the second income in middle class households to enter into bidding wars for real estate, and thus causing the booming, glorging, evil fucking rise in housing prices in all decent regions, has caused a type of life inflation.
We need more to start families, more money, more stability, more time to find a partner. And women haven't gained any more time. The gains in female life expectancy from better preventative care and better education for women happen in post-menopausal, non-fertile years. Women have longer lives than men- they just have shorter productive ones.
So bitches be angry that they've got to make choices. The impression given by the whole world, for years and years, was that a woman, a girl, could do whatever she wants, make any choices, and no doors would be closed to her. Unfortunately, biology doesn't work like that. Even with recent advances in egg freezing, biology doesn't work like that. Most women won't have the choices at 40 that they hand at 20. Most men will. Nearly fuckin' all men will. A man has to work hard to be infertile. Even with rising obesity, the risk of impotence from type ii diabetes doesn't render a man infertile. Ejaculation and harvesting can still occur.
And men will always want younger partners. Why? Because it makes sense that way. For decades, (generations, centuries, all of humanity thus far) a woman brought the fertility, a man brought the resources. Women get fertility early; men get resources later. Despite that, until very recently (historically speaking), a man was always very likely to outlive his wife. That's a digression. Recently, society has decided that both partners are responsible for providing heat and meat. So women have gotten older, closer in age to their male partners. They want and/or need individual material success prior to the baby making and the permanant coupling. Thus, the delayed childbearing.
So, a proposal.
It's not going to go back to the way it was. Women aren't going to give up careers in order to have children. Most women don't want to give up their dream baby and dream baby carriage and dream baby room and dream baby wallpaper and dream baby nanny in order to afford those things. And barring fundamental cultural change, men aren't going to suddenly begin marrying women past childbearing years in droves.
So how about we change what we can, to get women a few more years?
Fact: Girl children score higher on tests of school readyness than boys of the same age.
Fact (not true or proven): Middle School is fucking useless.
Fact: Cutting four years out of the public education system for half of all students would leave to massive savings.
So, we start girls in kindergarten at 4 instead of five. Mostly, they can handle it. The age of 5 and some months for kindergarten readiness is already a compromise between the social and verbal abilities of girl children and boy children. Then, we cut out a few years of middle school for girls- all three, or one or two. Girls go on to high school, and are prepared for college or public vocational education (which there would be money for, by cutting a few thousand children per year out of the educational system). So your average college freshman girl would be 14-16 instead of 17-19. That will leave her extra years to begin her career or graduate education before beginning to run down her biological clock.
Before this idea is dismissed as stupid bullshit (which it is) consider how it's actually the way that life has been designed. It feels like gross gender bias to even think about taking girls out of school earlier than boys- after all, isn't that what they did in other countries! But I'm proposing, not pulling them out early, but pushing them through faster. Women have always assumed adult responsabilities before their male peers. Maybe this is why so many goddamned livejournalling gothwearing eatingdisorder having teen girls feel life is so meaningless, and engage in such sad behavior and ridiculous angsty bullshit. Maybe female adolescence is a myth. Maybe it's just that their development has been placed on a male-centric, male-designed timetable. We've got to recognize biology for a moment. We've got to recognize tradition. Maybe we've even got to embrace it.
Of course, the real objection to this plan wouldn't be based on gender bias- it would be based on sex. Parents would be terrified that exposed to older boys younger, their girls would be having sex at a younger age. This knee jerk reaction probably would keep this proposal from ever being considered. We're so invested, culturally, in the idea of proms and dating and sock hoppes and malt shoppes. We can't imagine a world in which growing up doesn't mean dating the boy in math class, getting stuck with pins on prom night, the blushing fumblings in the back of borrowed cars...shameful, lonely, gropings towards second base. Of course, this isn't the way it goes now anyway. It's never been the way it goes. Girls date older boys, boys from somewhere else. Or they don't date. Or they im some guy on the internet and try fellatio in a parking lot. The sexual world of teenagers will never be clean cut, reluctantly chaste, and socially acceptable.
If I had started high school at 12 instead of middle school at 11, I'd have graduated at 16. College would have ended at 20. Now, at 23, I could be midway through a real job, instead of slinging coffee to people with real futures. I'm dating a man ten years older than me anyway. Of course, I don't want children. I'd gladly throw my fertile years some barren bitches' way for some kizzash.
Think about it.
What it's like.
I've never really been the normal girl.
People think I'm really unconventional; I've been able to make my quirks skew more charming than queer. I don't know why I'm like this. I just know that I've never been able to quite manage being standard, in any way. I was precocious. I was bright. I was a well-spoken eight year old. I was academically extraordinary. I've always been able to achieve without really trying (except at bennington). In average surroundings, I am above. I don't even remember how to read things I think are dull, like textbooks or assigned reading. At UMass, I can make A's without trying. I can't quite seem to not be shy, not be weird, not be a little different. I know, every time I go out, get dressed, do something, say something, I'm just a little off. I never really get how to dress, how to choose my clothes.
The best explanation for this is something called right-hemisphere dysfunction.It's a non-verbal learning disability. Everything that's written about it seems to apply to me, but the interpretations piss me the fuck off. People try to pin it onto the autistic spectrum. That's bullshit. I'm not autistic, I'm not aspergers. I'm not any kind of motherfucking rain man. I'm just me. And I'm good at things with words. Very good. Brilliant. I can pick up languages quick. I can play with words and rules. I can find subtexts, interpret film like it's an essay. Sometimes writing is a game to me. Other things are harder. I can't read people very well; I'm empathetic (fuck aspergers, I don't have fucking aspergers. I UNDERSTAND people, I'm intuitive, it's not any anthropologist on mars shit), but sometimes it takes a bit to pick up individuals and group dynamics. If you meet me once, I'm weird. If you know me for a year, you forget I ever was. I'm funny. I'm fucking hilarious; but sometimes, it's true, I have trouble with non-literal uses of language. When I was in college for real, it was hard for me to answer "What's up?" with "What's up?".
That's it, though. When I was a kid, I didn't just seem articulate, I was. I didn't just seem bright, I was. Everything that's written on this NVLD bullshit seems like sour grapes. The literature talks about children using words they don't really understand, appearing intelligent in elementary schools, with their 'true', delayed nature, coming out later. Reccommendations for life include predictable careers and very little secondary education. Remember, kids, if someone seems smarter than you, they're not. People talk about children with NVLD seeming to have wide vocabularies, but lacking comprehension. About shallow understandings, and shallow interpersonal relationships.
How do you fucking know, guy? How do you know how smart I am? Because my mind works differently than yours, it must be worse? Even (and especially) where it seems better? I am smart. I am a bad student. I am a good writer. I can be frustrating. I'd rather write around the rules than within them. People think I'm being difficult on purpose. Mostly, I'm not. My co-workers call me lazy, call me stupid. It's hard. There's a lot of ambiguity at my job, a lot of things you're supposed to know to do without ever having been told or having seen it written down. And if not, you must be lazy. Must be stupid. It hurts. It hurts to know that I am smart and stupid, but it's better than believing that I'm stupid and seem smart.
I know I'm not normal. I've never felt normal. I feel the cracks between what I can do and what everyone else can do; for years I walked around, feeling about to be found out as the fraud I felt like.
I lust after normalcy. I want it so badly. I want to do everything that everybody else does. I want to have what my friends have. I want a normal job and a normal boyfriend and a normal life. I don't want to make A's without trying, while pissing off my professors with my apparent slacking and bad attitude. I want to make B's with professors on my side. I want to have someone with me at thanksgiving dessert. I don't want to have to win people over for once.
People don't understand. My parents don't understand. They see what I achieve as proof that there's really nothing amiss. No matter how many diagnoses I have, they'll always see their brilliant daughter. They don't know that I can't figure out things that are dead obvious to everyone else. Sometimes I get myself into trouble, deep trouble. And there's no help for me. If I had dyslexia , and got myself into trouble taking a course load that was too heavy, there would be tons of things academic services could do for me. If I had ADD, and couldn't concentrate, I could see a specialist, given ritalin or adderal, and feel normal.
But if I work hard and quiet, never miss an assignment, never give someone reason to dislike my work; I can still get in too deep. I run through professors, term by term. I never get anyone on my side. Professors see me coming in late to class (disorganization is part of the disability- the most easily combated part, but part of it), never coming to office hours, and turning in work (BRILLIANT work, guy) that obviously wasn't even started until the night before. I know how much time it takes me to write a 13 page paper- one evening. I know how long it takes me to write a 7 page paper- one evening. One evening, one draft. It simply wouldn't be useful to start it the week before, and come in for feedback. That's not the help I need, lady. I need you to tell me what I have to do to get a recommendation from you. That's why I got kicked out of Bennington. Simply, my disability isn't charming enough. I don't cast a sympathetic figure.
I want to be normal. I so want to be normal.
A friend of mine graduated from Bridgewater State last year, same major as me. Her family threw her a party in the basement of a Chinese restaurant. She danced with her boyfriend, her mother drank too much and embarrassed everyone. In the middle of the party, my friend swelled up huge with an allergic reaction.
I'll never have that. I could hope for the allergic reaction. But the normalcy, the sheer grimy shady, peeling wood-paneled life of it...not for me. Not ever.
My boyfriend has had girlfriends before me. They did everything real. Everything. Everything that people do. They knew eachother's families. His friends knew them. I'm sure everything was normal. I'm not saying it was fun, or didn't have problems, but my boyfriend has had normal. He's had miserable. He's had depressing. He's had painful and pointless, but he's had normal.
So now I'm wondering- am I going to fail next? Or am I going to excel? There's a good chance I'll do amazing on the LSAT. I might go to law school and rape it, kick its fucking ass. I might make it my mewling, screaming bitch. Or it might be one of those normal things I can't have. There might be tons of ambiguous requirements, errands, busy work and obsequities that I can't navigate. I might be stuck doing well without support. I would be labeled as aptitude without attitude. Smart but lazy. How can I even get there if I can't even find a recommendation? Or know where to get the form to officially declare my major? Will it be UMass or Bennington? Friendship or Romance?
People think I'm really unconventional; I've been able to make my quirks skew more charming than queer. I don't know why I'm like this. I just know that I've never been able to quite manage being standard, in any way. I was precocious. I was bright. I was a well-spoken eight year old. I was academically extraordinary. I've always been able to achieve without really trying (except at bennington). In average surroundings, I am above. I don't even remember how to read things I think are dull, like textbooks or assigned reading. At UMass, I can make A's without trying. I can't quite seem to not be shy, not be weird, not be a little different. I know, every time I go out, get dressed, do something, say something, I'm just a little off. I never really get how to dress, how to choose my clothes.
The best explanation for this is something called right-hemisphere dysfunction.It's a non-verbal learning disability. Everything that's written about it seems to apply to me, but the interpretations piss me the fuck off. People try to pin it onto the autistic spectrum. That's bullshit. I'm not autistic, I'm not aspergers. I'm not any kind of motherfucking rain man. I'm just me. And I'm good at things with words. Very good. Brilliant. I can pick up languages quick. I can play with words and rules. I can find subtexts, interpret film like it's an essay. Sometimes writing is a game to me. Other things are harder. I can't read people very well; I'm empathetic (fuck aspergers, I don't have fucking aspergers. I UNDERSTAND people, I'm intuitive, it's not any anthropologist on mars shit), but sometimes it takes a bit to pick up individuals and group dynamics. If you meet me once, I'm weird. If you know me for a year, you forget I ever was. I'm funny. I'm fucking hilarious; but sometimes, it's true, I have trouble with non-literal uses of language. When I was in college for real, it was hard for me to answer "What's up?" with "What's up?".
That's it, though. When I was a kid, I didn't just seem articulate, I was. I didn't just seem bright, I was. Everything that's written on this NVLD bullshit seems like sour grapes. The literature talks about children using words they don't really understand, appearing intelligent in elementary schools, with their 'true', delayed nature, coming out later. Reccommendations for life include predictable careers and very little secondary education. Remember, kids, if someone seems smarter than you, they're not. People talk about children with NVLD seeming to have wide vocabularies, but lacking comprehension. About shallow understandings, and shallow interpersonal relationships.
How do you fucking know, guy? How do you know how smart I am? Because my mind works differently than yours, it must be worse? Even (and especially) where it seems better? I am smart. I am a bad student. I am a good writer. I can be frustrating. I'd rather write around the rules than within them. People think I'm being difficult on purpose. Mostly, I'm not. My co-workers call me lazy, call me stupid. It's hard. There's a lot of ambiguity at my job, a lot of things you're supposed to know to do without ever having been told or having seen it written down. And if not, you must be lazy. Must be stupid. It hurts. It hurts to know that I am smart and stupid, but it's better than believing that I'm stupid and seem smart.
I know I'm not normal. I've never felt normal. I feel the cracks between what I can do and what everyone else can do; for years I walked around, feeling about to be found out as the fraud I felt like.
I lust after normalcy. I want it so badly. I want to do everything that everybody else does. I want to have what my friends have. I want a normal job and a normal boyfriend and a normal life. I don't want to make A's without trying, while pissing off my professors with my apparent slacking and bad attitude. I want to make B's with professors on my side. I want to have someone with me at thanksgiving dessert. I don't want to have to win people over for once.
People don't understand. My parents don't understand. They see what I achieve as proof that there's really nothing amiss. No matter how many diagnoses I have, they'll always see their brilliant daughter. They don't know that I can't figure out things that are dead obvious to everyone else. Sometimes I get myself into trouble, deep trouble. And there's no help for me. If I had dyslexia , and got myself into trouble taking a course load that was too heavy, there would be tons of things academic services could do for me. If I had ADD, and couldn't concentrate, I could see a specialist, given ritalin or adderal, and feel normal.
But if I work hard and quiet, never miss an assignment, never give someone reason to dislike my work; I can still get in too deep. I run through professors, term by term. I never get anyone on my side. Professors see me coming in late to class (disorganization is part of the disability- the most easily combated part, but part of it), never coming to office hours, and turning in work (BRILLIANT work, guy) that obviously wasn't even started until the night before. I know how much time it takes me to write a 13 page paper- one evening. I know how long it takes me to write a 7 page paper- one evening. One evening, one draft. It simply wouldn't be useful to start it the week before, and come in for feedback. That's not the help I need, lady. I need you to tell me what I have to do to get a recommendation from you. That's why I got kicked out of Bennington. Simply, my disability isn't charming enough. I don't cast a sympathetic figure.
I want to be normal. I so want to be normal.
A friend of mine graduated from Bridgewater State last year, same major as me. Her family threw her a party in the basement of a Chinese restaurant. She danced with her boyfriend, her mother drank too much and embarrassed everyone. In the middle of the party, my friend swelled up huge with an allergic reaction.
I'll never have that. I could hope for the allergic reaction. But the normalcy, the sheer grimy shady, peeling wood-paneled life of it...not for me. Not ever.
My boyfriend has had girlfriends before me. They did everything real. Everything. Everything that people do. They knew eachother's families. His friends knew them. I'm sure everything was normal. I'm not saying it was fun, or didn't have problems, but my boyfriend has had normal. He's had miserable. He's had depressing. He's had painful and pointless, but he's had normal.
So now I'm wondering- am I going to fail next? Or am I going to excel? There's a good chance I'll do amazing on the LSAT. I might go to law school and rape it, kick its fucking ass. I might make it my mewling, screaming bitch. Or it might be one of those normal things I can't have. There might be tons of ambiguous requirements, errands, busy work and obsequities that I can't navigate. I might be stuck doing well without support. I would be labeled as aptitude without attitude. Smart but lazy. How can I even get there if I can't even find a recommendation? Or know where to get the form to officially declare my major? Will it be UMass or Bennington? Friendship or Romance?
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