Friday, June 27, 2008

Freedom Five Friday

'Cause it's Friday afternoon and I'm feeling flip.
  1. Chiwetel Ejiofor- First noticed him in Love Actually as the guy marrying Keira Knightley, and had an eyes-wide, "who is that??" reaction. I've adored him ever since.
  2. Viggo Mortensen- Incredible actor, poet and photographer. Politically aware, humble, and gracious as all hell. Sure, he might be a little intense, but he totally does it for me.
  3. Jet Li- YUM-MY! It must be the eyes...and the jaw...and the chiseled body, the way he moves...etc., etc.
  4. Jesse L. Martin- A long-time Law & Order favorite. Sure, Chris Noth is good-looking too, but Jesse has waaay more sex appeal.
  5. John Barrowman- Totally gorgeous in a classic, timeless way. Not well-known in the States, but meltingly hot nonetheless. The fact that he's gay does nothing to detract from his attactiveness, in fact, it only makes him more appealing.

Runner's up- Willem Dafoe, Vin Diesel, and Mathew St. Patrick.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

What Doesn't Kill You, Wounds For Life

A fantastic line borrowed from a song by Strange Advance, and so apropos.

I was sexually abused when I was young. I had the hardest time talking about this, admitting it, to anyone for a very long time. I was ashamed, humiliated, and just plain grossed-out. I mean, the "ewww!!" factor is pretty high when discussing most things sexual anyway, and if it's perverse or deviant, then even more so. I think this is part of what's wrong with American culture, an inability to be open and honest about things that make us uncomfortable, but I digress. I will say that an atmosphere of secrecy and denial, much like the current administration, allows evil to flourish.

I was abused by two men over the course of about ten years, from age five to about fifteen, when I was finally old enough to protect myself, make myself unavailable. I wasn't the only victim of these men. I'm pretty sure there were at least four others girls, possibly boys too, and the numbers could be much, much, higher, since these men were respected in the community, traveled internationally, and lived long lives. They had access to dozens, maybe hundreds, of children. I didn't do anything about the situation even after I was an adult, which might have contributed to my little brother's suicide, but I'll never know.

It's taken a long time to try and come to terms with what happened to me. For the most part, I tried not to think about it, to put it behind me and just live my life, but some things are not so easily gotten over. For the longest time, I didn't even think about the fact that I probably wasn't the only one, until I started to research and discovered that pedophiles typically have more than one victim, and that the profile of a serial abuser is a white, religious male. The publicity surrounding the scandals in the Catholic church helped, made me realize that it was more common than anyone wanted to admit, made me feel less ashamed and less alone. I didn't want to think of myself as wounded, because I so desperately wanted to be "normal," to have a happy, fabulous life, and so I denied the past. But as Faulkner said, "The past isn't dead, it isn't even passed."

I don't know if Mom was aware of what happened, she says she wasn't, that she had no idea, but who lets a grown man, a boyfriend, bathe with her five year old daughter? Someone, a friend of a friend, she'd known for weeks, maybe months at the time, not years. Of course, time of association doesn't really mean anything, abuse typically happens at the hands of a friend or family member. The spectre of the shadowy stranger, of "Chester the Molester" lurking around playgrounds simply isn't reality. And pedophiles recognize vulnerable children, seek out circumstances where their activities will go unnoticed or ignored. It's a hunter-prey situation, and the fact that my mother was tag-teamed by two men she trusted mitigates her culpability, at least in my mind. She doesn't go unpunished, though. I know part of my reticence to have children stems from my childhood. You were a bad mother, so no grandchildren for you!

Experiences shape you, mold your perceptions, and so effect future decisions. My stripping and Internet modeling, my desire to act, my passive-aggressive tendencies, I'm sure much of it comes from the lessons I was taught. I'm trying hard to create new patterns, new behaviors, new ways of being, but the past is sticky and old ruts are familiar if loathed. I can't, won't, let my future be dictated by the perversity and sickness of two fucked up old men, both dead now. I may be wounded, but I'm strong, and I can live with the scars.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Mosaic Meme

I liked this idea, so I ripped it off from Pants! I had a lot of fun putting it together, although some of the answers were unexpectedly difficult.
Here's the meme:
A. Type your answers to the following questions into Flickr Search.
B. Pick an image from the first page.
C. Copy and paste the URLs for the photos into fd's mosaic maker.

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. What is your favorite drink?
7. What is your dream vacation?
8. What is your favorite dessert?
9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name.

And then I had a lot of trouble saving and posting the mosaic, but I tend to be technologically-challenged.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Things That Never Fail To Lift My Spirits

  • A long scooter ride in the sunshine. It's just so damn fun!
  • Coupons for Chipotle! I know, I know, they're only burritos, but what burritos they are! And free. How can you beat free? Definitely worth rooting through the mail room trash.
  • Jezebel stretching and rolling around on the carpet, begging for attention and exposing her soft tummy.
  • America's Funniest Home Videos. Sure, some of them are just stupid, and the commentary is inevitably insipid, but there's always a couple that make me laugh out loud.
  • Laurie Anderson. Certain songs on "Mr. Heartbreak" and "Strange Angels" are my definition of perfection.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Cheesy Ass

NSA opening a bag of shredded cheddar-"This cheese smells like ass!"
Me, sniffing-"You're right, it DOES smell like ass!"
NSA, sticking his nose back in the bag- "Wow, it really smells like ass!"
Me-"Then why do you keep smelling it??"
There was nothing wrong with the cheese, perfectly edible, it was just very fragrant.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

My Favorite Porn Star

Back in my L.A. days, I did some extra work at a small studio in the Valley. Not a big deal, film called Marissa, just a day of work on a party scene (pre-SAG). Except, and I should have realized, what shoots in the Valley is mainly porn. Yup, the San Fernando Valley is home to the biggest names in smut production. At first, nothing unusual. I get to the address a little early, there's gaffers and electricians setting up, a little disorganized, but some productions can't seem to find their ass with both hands. There's me and a few other extras hanging around waiting to see what happens. Then, the "talent" arrived. On a small film, you don't necessarily recognize the leads, they're not major players, they might never be, but this group was definitely different. A handsome, dark haired guy named Alex needed to change, and so dropped trou in front of everyone, no underwear, and a very nice ass. With my background, it didn't really phase me even when I realized it was a porn shoot. I thought it was kind of funny, actually, but another extra started to freak out. Brooke's claim to fame was that she had been a hand-double for Mena Suvari, and "Oh God! I can't be in a porno, I want to have a real career!" I pointed out to her that they weren't doing any sex scenes, more than likely no one would know about it unless she told them, and if she left, she wouldn't get paid for the day. She ended up staying, but you could feel the attitude from across the room.
I was feeling kind of at home, talking with a muscular blonde named Adam. He was a minor player, not terribly tall, but well-built and sweet, definitely attractive. He said he had his SAG card, but porn was easy and paid well, he'd pretty much given up his acting aspirations and was just putting money in the bank. I was glad the days of guys in porn looking like Ron Jeremy were over. We ate lunch together, chatted between takes, had a pleasant day. Besides a few risque jokes, it was a pretty typical shoot. He asked me out to dinner, but I regretfully declined due to being married and all. Adam looked disappointed enough to give my ego a nice boost. It feels good to have that little electric frisson run down your spine, especially after having been married for nine or ten years at the time.
He told me his porn name was John Decker, so of course I had to check him out. I guess that's a little weird, but I was curious. He didn't disappoint. And, yes, NSA knew all about it. When you make a life-long commitment at nineteen, your partner should be understanding enough to allow for a little wiggle room. I still think about Adam once in a while, file that memory under "sweet, but not meant to be."

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Favorite Movie Lines

From Brain Candy, regarding a popular new head-med, spoken by a cabbie with an Armenian accent: "You know, it's made from monkey cum."
Also from Brain Candy: "Where's your father?" "Upstairs masturbating to gay porn again."

From The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. A transvestite is petting a codger's dog. "What's your dog's name?" "Herpes, 'cause if she's good, she'll heel."

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Tuesday Observations

  • There are a lot of women in Southern California that dress like strippers. That's assuming they're not all strippers, they just dress that way.
  • Maybe it's just me, but I don't think gray-haired grannies should wear toe rings. It looks weird, and their feet aren't usually pretty.
  • To a cat, nasturtiums on a balcony are hummingbird lures.
  • I hate when I'm having a good dream, like playing with a group of kids at a water park, only to wake up having to pee really badly.
  • The more stressed I am, the more my job suffers and the more I'm inclined to fuck around.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Kicked When I'm Down

I honestly woke up feeling okay this morning. The nasturtiums NSA planted in the window box smell good, I never even realized nasturtiums had a smell. I have a lot to do, but I'm getting through it, the sun is shining and I'm feeling capable. And then, a call. My father-in-law has prostate cancer. JESUS H. MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST!!
I'm floored. I just need a break, a little time when there's nothing going on, no one to worry about, no shit happening. I feel like I just barely get a grip on this slippery eel, and it twists it's way out of my grasp again. I'm left feeling desperate and inadequate, hopeless and frustrated, I just want to run away. And I'm pissed off, because nothing is ever simple or easy or clean. It's not just that my F-I-L has cancer, it's also that he's retired military and splits his salary with my M-I-L, so if he dies, there goes half her income, health care and shopping benefits. Which she uses to support her grandson directly and the rest of the family peripherally. F-I-L is the same kind of asshole as my mother, believing in the power of the mind to control all things, so we'll see what kind of treatment he opts for, if any.
And I'm befuddled and bereft, shaking my head and wondering, what the fuck am I supposed to do??

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

NOT Happy

Feeling like a pissy six year old today, wanting to throw a raging hissy fit and stomp around with a scowl on my face, but knowing that I'm a "big girl" and too old for baby tantrums. Sometimes I just want to revert so badly, to the days of "but it's not FAIR!" and "HE doesn't have to, so why do I??" It's not like I expect the universe to smile and grant me my every desire tout suite, it's just that sometimes things feel so unnecessarily difficult.
A co-worker's husband died over the weekend, and I feel so bad for her, and it's cast a pall over everything. Additionally, a shitload of paperwork arrived on my desk yesterday that needs to be completed ASAP! because we're in review time and if it's not completed perfectly, WE COULD ALL GET FIRED! Which is really very unlikely, but that's the kind of pressure being brought to bear. I just want to stick out my tongue and scream "NO!" and I don't care if I have to go sit in the corner because sitting in the (quiet, comtemplative) corner would be really, really nice right now.
It's days like this that I'm particularly envious of Susan. I love her blog, because even when she's unhappy, there's a certain serenity to her posts, a calm gentleness that's just missing in my life. And she has faith that things will get better, that she can make them better, and I lack that too.