i haven't updated in a while, and i apologize. experiminted with live journal for a while, but this is my refuge on the web. i can't leave it. and now, being home, i see that i need it more than ever.

i've had a tumultuous first two weeks home. my father has great difficulty understanding me, my mother had a lot of trouble being patient with me, and my sisters are intemperate when they want to be.. in general, i've had a lot of trouble with the fact that i don't feel respected at home, by anyone.

its been nice to be away from school, but i haven't been as productive as i would have liked. even though in have a very rigorous filter, i've been watching between 2 and four hours of tv every day... simpsons two or three times if i can manage it, the price is right occasionally if i'm up that early, and discovery channel and PBS shows. i love the shows about car repair and house remodeling, so much so that i think i was probably destined to be a mechanic, not an academic. i watch the whole line up of monster shows, overhaulin, pimp my ride, as well as american chopper. i really can't explain my fascination with them, other than to say that i've always been enthralled by how things work. PBS at night is really exciting as well. So far between the hours of 1 and 4AM, I've watched specials on the earth's magnetic field and how it reverses every 120,000 years(fascinating stuff!) murals in pre-classic mayan civilization, and red tailed hawks.

i've also been reading and watching movies. finished a book called loving che that was quite admirably written, and have started a handful of others. titles from audre lorde, huxley, and also a book called "how the jews became white folks." i also watched the first two lord of the rings for the first time, and am eager for the final portion of the trilogy. saw les triplettes de belleville which made me laugh and laugh, big fish which made me cry somewhat inexplicably, and frida which inspired me to peruse through a taschen book on the painter for two hours. i am proud to say that i understood all of the french. i'm also pretty interested about the idea of doing a on self portrait project in photography, perhaps with costumes.

i've also been trying to take the city by storm via bicyclette. last monday i biked about 5 miles, and on thursday i biked and rode the subway downtown. my parents really don't understand my fixation with being a bike punk, especially when it involves trips to the grocery store. it's been a lot of fun, however. my dad has this catapult mountain bike that just oozes meanness on the road. i find that my relationship with the landscape changes when i am able to look at the details, flecks in the rock. i have developed a new fascination with concrete.

spiritually, however, i feel pretty weary. i'm having trouble deciding how i want to live my life, and what sort of commitments are required by my choice. i'm not sure if my fear of being a hypocrite is internal or just something that comes up when i know that i am being observed. also, i can't reconcile if there is something transcendental, innate, internal about self that obliverates the need for signifers and social performance. if whatever i got is brewing deep in my soul, do i need to wear a certain pair of shoes to let people know about it? how does substance affect form? and more importantly, how does form affect substance? i'm beginning to agonize over that question.

yesterday, a friend that haven't seen in a longtime invited me to go out to a dance club with her. i can't even say its not my scene because i've never been.. so, in the interest of seeing her and not spending friday night on my ass, i decided to give it a try. it was really one of the more miserable experiences of my past couple of months.. for one, although dressed quite conservatively in long black slacks, a black shirt and boots, i was dressed in a way that i couldn't even recognize my personhood.. a low point of the evening was walking past a gang of kids with mohawks and having to look away because i know how i view people tottering around with a clutch bag and high heels.. i was an alien.

inside the club however, aside from submitting to a 12 entrance fee, i found myself feeling lost. stripped naked of the form that i feel most comfortable in, i tried to compensate by carrying myself, all beit in new clothes, the way that i am accustomed -- back arched straight, head up, dignified, demanding respect. even that was lost, however by the men who chose to dance with me. that being, the people that harassed me out of my solo side stepping by hurling their crotch against my ass, people who tried to maneuver my body up and down over their erection, etc.. my personal space was summarily violated. i can't tell you how crushed i feel thinking back on it.. in the way i live, i create distance from the world through critique of it, and in that space apart i construct my esteem and respect. just the literal transgression of space.. having my hips urged down, having my back bent into a curve.. i feel like i was deconstructed, my spine ripped out, trodden on, my body used.

there was one man who i met, a kid perhaps my age with a couple of missing front teeth, whose company i inexplicably enjoyed. perhaps because he was the only person in the room who didn't make me feel like i was being used as a tactile stimulation device.. we held hands and kind of just side stepped, about 6 inches apart. he respected me in every way, and i really can't tell you how grateful i am for the experience, even though it still terrified me.

i am rock. i am stone. i am alone.