Teeth 2/09/09

I am standing in a smoke-filled room eating a hot dog. In front of me is a large mirror – the kind you look into in public restrooms. I watch myself as I chew. I visually zoom in on my mouth. Suddenly I feel something wet at my lips – that isn’t right. I reach up with my free hand and touch my mouth. When I remove it and look down at it I see that it is covered in blood. I startle, and stumble backwards. I am further now from the mirror and the smoke is obscuring what I can see in its reflection. Another weird sensation – my mouth is bending like a warm strand of licorice. I watch silently as my teeth fall out one by one, plinking off the floor like cheap guitar picks.

I awake with a start. I immediately shove both my hands to my mouth. I wiggle my front teeth between my index fingers and thumbs. I bite down hard a few times making a chomping sound. I begin to calm down – my teeth are not actually falling out. Taking note of my surroundings for the first time I realize what has happened – I dozed off in the library on top of my pile of books. I also realize that a black girl is staring at me. She is seated directly in front of me twenty feet away, facing me. I shoot her a feeble smile. She does not return the gesture. Her expression seems to say crazy fucking white people. Indeed. I resolve to brush my teeth as soon as I get home.

"White Girl" 2/07/09

“White Girl is late.”

I plop down in my chair with my coat still on. I check my watch – 8:04am. I glance to the front of the room – the professor isn’t even here yet.

“White Girl looks tired.”

I ignore what they’re saying about me. This nickname was given to me on the first day of class. I laughed upon hearing it. I was coming back from the board after doing number fourteen on it. “White Girl has mad skills,” is what I heard. This was a compliment. I mean, okay, so there’s five white kids in the class. Every person in this room has counted. Okay, so I’m the only girl among us. I get it. I’m the white girl. It makes sense. The class is comprised mostly of black and Hispanic kids. There is one Asian girl who sits in the back corner of the room. She is always shifting around uncomfortably in her seat. Don’t call attention to yourself, I hear myself say to her in my head. Don’t become “Asian Girl” to them.

“Yo, White Girl dresses whack,” I heard on the second day of class. “And so it has begun,” I thought to myself. And so it had.

The professor shows up finally and starts class. She asks me the answer to number six on the homework. My best guess is apparently incorrect.

“White Girl blew it.”

None of them will make eye contact with me. What would I say if they did? If I actually existed in this room and they could hear me?

“Hi, my name is Pat,” or “You can all fuck off.” I don’t know which.

Late Night Facts

I am terrified of great white sharks but also want to see one in person someday (and I don’t mean seconds before it eats me).

I am afraid that I will never find her.

The group I am most bigoted against: Christians.

I believe I am funnier than all the people I have ever met in my life combined.

I also believe I’m a more talented writer than all the people I have ever met in my life combined.
I used to put a lot of pressure on that fact that I was born believing that I would change the world.

I came out to my friend Shannon when I was 16 years old. Part of me died that day.

I want to get a tattoo of a phoenix on my lower right leg.

I would not be alive today if I had never met Amy. Without meeting her I would also never have become myself.

I don’t think college has changed me much. I also think I am a very different person than I was in high school.

I’ve been in love once, I think. It is/was horrible and also the greatest experience of my entire life.

I believe that when I die I will meet Angel from RENT. Not the character, not the actor. The person.

I cross-dress because it makes me feel comfortable but also because it forces people to consider an idea, however briefly, upon meeting me. My point is not that anyone should be anything like me, but that if they really wanted to they could be whatever makes them most like them.

I have a pet hamster named Abner who is the most perfect thing I have ever held in my hands. When he dies I will be devastated.

I miss my grandma almost every single day.

I don’t fear my mom’s death as much as I fear that she will live for many more years with a horrible quality of life.

When I was in kindergarten I had a crush on the teacher.

I cried almost every day of my life until I turned 14. I was a sensitive kid.

I haven’t yet had a good year. I am super hopeful about 20. So far, so good.

I used to love photography and was fairly talented at it. I think I’ll get a new camera and try it again.

I am an organ donor and once convinced a girl in line with me at the DMV to be one too, even though her fiancé, whom she was snuggly attached to, begged her to reconsider.

I read books 1-4 of the Harry Potter series and have no inclination to read 5-7.

When I was 5 I burned my hands horribly on an open flame. Lighting matches scares me but I can do it.

The shore makes me feel peaceful.

I am not cut out for roller coasters.

I think facebook is lame but I also like to talk about myself.

Untitled 2/01/09

Note: Sorry about the giant gaps in the text. Blogger isn't letting me indent and messing with the html is the only way I could indicate a sense of paragraph structure.

My friend Sarah is the smartest person I have ever met. She is also the most socially awkward. In five years of knowing her I’ve mostly only been able to draw out of her commentary on the weather.

One night our senior year of high school we were down the shore for a class trip. There was a dance party in the pavilion and I thought Sarah looked about as miserable as I felt. We went outside, both of us completely burnt from the day, and lay on our backs on top of a picnic table. She asked me if it was cloudy. I said I didn’t know what the weather was supposed to be like. I was still looking when I burst out laughing, “Sarah…the stars. We can see them.” She thought it was funny too.

We talked about all kinds of things that night. We talked about the past four years of social hell and her sister dying. We talked about the future and what would happen if we actually got all the things we dreamed of. It was the kind of conversation two characters have in a movie right before they go their separate ways forever. It was the most sweeping conversation I’ve ever had with a friend about life.

Three weeks ago I saw Sarah at a house party I had. She looked thoroughly bored, a bit uncomfortable, and exactly the way she had looked that night in the pavilion. Our friend Amy brought up that senior trip, reminding us that she was too ill to go on it. Sarah turned to me and said, “Remember when we went outside near the end?” I smiled and said, “Yeah, I loved hanging out with you that night and the conversation we had.” Sarah cocked her head a little, “We talked?” “Yeah, you don’t remember?” “No, I don’t. I thought we just went outside cause we didn’t want to dance.”

Right now I feel like I'm holding my breath. I want to be in the water, I want more than anything to try to make this work. But I don’t want to breathe in the water. I don’t want the darkness to come again. So I’m trying to swim. And I think right now that’s all I can ask for. I’m holding my breath. I’ll see what happens with trying to live in between. I'll see what happens when I remind myself everyday that life is both.

Merry Christmas

click.

So I figured I would post this now because there is a slim chance at best I’ll have time to put anything else up before Christmas.

The next days for me include…
A final from hell on a date much too close to Christmas
A beach trip/holiday lights extravaganza with my Shomie
The culmination of this year’s Spootmus ’08
A gift exchange with Jess (where we will watch my…favorite….thing…ever? wrestling?)
A completely fascinating Christmas Eve
A Christmas that I don’t have to work on! Huzzah!

Over break I’ll hopefully log some REAL written entries about…stuff. I’ll also write my usual end of the year entry. I actually really did learn a lot about life this year. And let’s face it, I’ve been happier these last few months than I’ve probably ever been in my entire life.

To anyone who reads this: I wish you peace and a Merry Christmas.
To my lemur: LBA and Happy Spootmus!

-Pat

Happy Spootmus to all and to all a good night

click.

I.
Headlights on a dark and winding road
Clouds on the ground
The tires drive through them
I question if this is a waking dream
You sit quietly
Here is a quiet that I am comfortable with at long last
The radio crackles
I am tired in my core
Bob Dylan eases on
We both reach to adjust the volume
Our hands connect
But there is no snap of electricity in my soul
I smile and slap your hand away
I turn the dial

“How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?”

I sing along softly
My voice is gravely from smoke and lack of sleep
You smile in the darkness but I don’t hear it
I can’t hear it over the sound of my own voice
I can’t hear it over the prospect of letting you hear me sing for the first time
I can't hear it because I am free
I wonder if we will make new journeys in this car
The song about life’s unanswerable questions concludes
I awake and miss you

Spootmus 'O8!

Spootmus is only four days away! Rejoice!

1 curse of Joan/Sharon
2 oversized Obama away messages
3 awkward dads at the annual BBQ
4 yearbook pictures atop Shahomia
5 vomits on new years
6 mockeries of Katy Ryerson
7 sailor/fishermen’s moons
8 thanksgivings with Mumu
9 Svetlanas
10 much beloved Cindys
11 old woman trading cards
12 Marie visits

LBA, Fluffy!

Day with Avi part Three

I should pick up chicks in the Rhino hat.

The handy work of Amith:

Silly drawings of jesus nailed to the cross never fail to put a smile on my face.