Traditions, Routines, and Rituals

With the crisp chill in the air and the tips of branches turning red to contrast with the bright blue sky, I can safely say that fall is well and truly here! Having lived most of my life in Florida, this autumn in New England will be my first "real" fall. And yet, even without a single red or orange leaf back home, autumn was always my favorite season.

Partly this has to do with the cooler weather, as I absolutely loathed summers in Florida. But partly it's because I find there's a natural rhythm, at least in this hemisphere and culture, to the last few months of the year. While I love feeling free and spontaneous in the summer, once I can see Halloween on the horizon, my thoughts turn to traditions and familiar routines. I get this powerful itch to spruce up the house in preparation to nest through the winter (even if winter will, in actuality, be just as busy as summer - my caveman brain doesn't seem to recognize that). Summer, to me, is a time for progress, moving forward, and embracing the new. But as the year dies away, I start looking toward the past and connecting with my roots a bit more. I feel more of a need to spend time in nature, to pace my life differently, to nurture myself and those closest to me rather than paying so much attention to the outside world.

Some of my favorite rituals and traditions as the year ends (which I hasten to add - I don't do everything every year!):

• Going to pumpkin patches, corn mazes or apple orchards and enjoying the beauty of the harvest
• State and county fairs, with all the lights, rides, terrible-but-delicious food, crafts, and so on
• National Coming Out Day (Oct 11), LGBT history month (October) and the Transgender Day of Remembrance (Nov 20). Not "fun" holidays, exactly, particularly that last one, but important ones which make me feel connected to my queer brothers/sisters/siblings-of-nonbinary-gender.
• Thrill the World, which I am not doing this year, but I had a BLAST at last year
• Halloween and Samhain and all the fun stuff that comes along with that
• ARGH, which I've only been to once and won't be back this year, but the fall gathering is so deliciously autumnal
• NaNoWriMo, which I don't do every year (this year I am!), but I always plan on it, and so the forums are a big sign of fall to me
• The return of Matt to regular, heavily-seasonal blogging, the Halloween and Christmas jukeboxes, and the annual Lego/Playmobil Advent calendar
• Thanksgiving, with the food and the Macy's parade and the sense of "the holidays are on the way but people haven't started freaking out and gotten all bitter yet", is my favorite holiday
• Doing a little something for Chanukah - I'm not Jewish, but Judaism has had a big influence on my beliefs, so while I'm celebrating a Christian holiday despite not being really Christian, I like to give a nod to Chanukah as well.
• The winter solstice/Yule, which highlights the original "reason for the season" - celebrating light, warmth and companionship in the dead of winter
• Christmas. Basically everything about Christmas, I do it all.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, besides the fact that I just feel like chattering excitedly, I also want to tackle a common misconception about unschooling. Many people think choosing unschooling for their family means throwing away any sense of routine, ritual, or tradition and just going wherever the wind may carry you. Some people find this idea very freeing, but for others, it's a turn-off. A lot of people feel anxious and disconnected when they don't have any predictability in life to anchor them, and a lot of these people may take one look at the apparently free-floating, hippie kind of life that unschoolers live, and go "Nuh-uh, no way, not for me!"

But unschooling doesn't have to mean throwing away all routines! What it *does* mean is that you don't force routines and traditions on your kids. It means you don't clap your hands at 10pm and announce that it's bedtime now, no matter what your kid is doing or how awake they are. It means you look at the things you do out of habit and examine whether they're actually meaningful and purposeful in your life.

But it doesn't mean you cannot ever plan anything. Not having bedtimes doesn't mean you can't have a special bath-story-snuggle routine in the evening, if your kids enjoy that. Not controlling screen time doesn't mean you can't all pile on the couch to watch The Big Bang Theory every Thursday, or House on Monday, or whatever your family enjoys. Not forcing your kids to eat breakfast doesn't mean you can't have a ritual cup of tea each morning (even if you have to sip it from a thermos while following a toddler around). If you have a routine-loving kid who needs to do X in the morning and Y in the afternoon and Z in the evening, by all means help make that happen! If your kid *wants* to do a math workbook page every day, give them a math workbook page every day! *Until* they don't want to anymore - then you let it go without a fuss. The difference between unschooling and other kinds of parenting is that nothing is forced, required, shamed or punished. That's it. So long as you're respecting and facilitating your kids' wants and needs, your family can structure life in any way that works for you, and it is Still Unschooling.

Unschooling doesn't mean the leaves don't change in the fall or the flowers don't bloom in the spring. It doesn't mean the sun doesn't rise in the east and set in the west, it doesn't make the Earth turn faster or slower (though on some of those late nights, you may not be sure). Unschooling doesn't mean you can't be the mom who knits her kids an ugly Weasley sweater* every Christmas - it only means you can't be the mom who gives your kid an ugly sweater *instead* of the Legos they wanted, and you can't force them to wear it. But if knitting the damn sweater (or other tradition your kids don't care about) makes you happy, do it! Just recognize who you're really doing it for, and allow your kids to opt out if they choose.

And if a tradition or ritual is making your family happy? Then keep it up, even if it feels silly. My mom and I kept dyeing Easter eggs until I was well into my 20s, because it was fun playing with the colors. I still make peanut butter and banana sandwiches on Elvis's birthday even though I'm not that big of a fan, just because we always did it when I was a kid. The actual meaning behind these activities is long gone, but they're still worth doing because they're still fun. When an activity is not meaningful *or* fun, that's when you throw it away and find something that suits your family better right now.

And finally, allow new rituals to pop up anytime. There was a period of time in 2009 where I got up at 5:00 every morning to watch Star Trek TNG (on DVD, so there was no concrete reason to be up this early) and eat breakfast, then went back to sleep. My mom was usually up during that time and would blearily watch along with me, then go back to sleep too. This went on for a few weeks and then stopped. This all sounds incredibly pointless from the outside, I know. But it was an important routine while it lasted, because it was predictable, comforting, and involved sharing an interest with my mom.

Make grilled cheese on Tuesdays, but be willing to cook spaghetti if your kids request it. Bake an apple pie on the first of every month. Wear pink socks every time you go to the doctor, if that amuses you. Why the hell not? Having fun and having routines don't have to be opposite goals. Saying no to fun because you haven't made room in your schedule - that's the thing you need to watch out for.

*Or ugly Wesley sweater? Nerd media is rife with ugly sweaters for you to choose from.

70 Ways Unschoolers Learn to Deal With Frustration

One of the questions frequently lobbed at unschoolers is how kids who are "given everything they want" will ever learn to deal with frustration, as if saying "no" to things your kids know full well you can provide is some sort of exercise in character-building. (To me, this is the equivalent of asking how they will learn to deal with physical pain if you don't hit them, but I realize it is not generally meant with that level of malice.)

My parents never withheld anything from me that they were able to provide, and I promise, I have dealt with *plenty* of frustration. And I'm getting better at it - many of these things would have been the apocalypse to me, as a very sensitive child, but the more I live the more I learn how to laugh things off. I promise you, school and punishments are not how I learned this.

So, I am here to assure you that no matter how much you lovingly provide to your kids, they will still have to deal with this stuff:

1. Broken appliances

2. Broken computers

3. Rained-out picnics, park days, vacations, baseball games...

4. Not getting invited to parties

5. Video games you can't quite beat

6. Neighbors with small yap-type dogs

7. Rude people out in public

8. "Some assembly required"

9. Nightmares

10. Gravity, sleeplessness, and wind

11. The flu

12. Youtube comments

13. Long lines at the grocery store when you were ready to eat an hour ago

14. Pens that won't write until you scribble on every nearby surface and try to suck out the ink like a vampire

15. Not getting answers to emails

16. Having too many emails to answer

17. Basically any trip to the post office. (Goes double if you're not even the person needing to mail something.)

18. Check engine lights

19. "What do you mean, that was the last roll of toilet paper?"

20. Needing to pee while someone is in the shower

21. Boring Saturdays where you can't think of anything to do

22. Having to schedule time with schooled friends around their homework

23. Cat hair + favorite sweater

24. Favorite teddy bears that just can't be sewn up anymore

25. Not getting or losing a job when you've tried your hardest

26. Getting rejected or dumped when you've tried your hardest

27. Helium balloons that were let go prematurely

28. Depressing shit on the news

29. Any mention of politics

30. Being the last person to shower and having to take an ice-cold military shower

31. Pets that die, run away, or have to be given away

32. Contests entered and not won

33. Flat tires

34. Telemarketers

35. Clouds on the night of the meteor shower

36. That toy everyone wants for Christmas/Chanukah/whatever but it is completely sold out but how can you understand that when you're six?

37. Being too little to reach the light switch, see all the books on the shelf, pour your own juice, walk the doggie, help mommy carry stuff...

38. Being too young to drive a car, go out late at night, get a job, choose where you live, vote, have your opinions and feelings taken seriously by most people...

39. Bad first dates

40. Bad haircuts

41. Dealing with disabilities, illness, and injury

42. Dried-out magic markers

43. Power outages, phone outages, internet outages...

44. "If you are calling about a rabid badger attack, press 1. If your refrigerator mold has become sentient, press 2. For all other calls, please hold..."

45. Losing socks to the Underpants Gnomes

46. cl1ck here 2 make ur pen15 b1gger

47. Not making the team or passing an audition

48. Not realizing your favorite necklace/bracelet/earring that someone Very Important gave you is missing until you get home - from somewhere very large and crowded.

49. Queerphobia, racism, sexism, transphobia, fatphobia, classism, ableism, xenophobia...

50. Songs that get stuck in your head, forcing you to listen to them to make it stop, even if you hate them

51. Rubik's cubes, sudoku, crossword puzzles that keep making obscure 1940s movie references...

52. Tangled computer wires, ropes, and Christmas lights

53. "Thank you for calling [office]. Our office hours are [large span of time that definitely includes the time of the call]. Please leave a message and we will get back to you during regular business hours."

54. Not having more than two or three of your best friends concentrated in any one part of the country or world, so no matter where you go, you miss a lot of people

55. People who argue against unschooling by insisting that you, personally (or your good friends, personally) will Fail At Life

56. Being asked, "So, what do you do?" during a period of your life where what you're doing doesn't sound outwardly impressive. ("Um, I blog, and stuff...")

57. Your reed breaks right before a recital, your tights run on the way to a job interview, you get a charley horse right before the big game...

58. tryng 2 dciphr txt spk

59. "Hi, I noticed your hair looks like shit! Can I interrupt your shopping trip to straighten it?"

60. Puberty. And for people with uteruses, the ongoing joy of periods.

61. [Person you consider a good friend] likes [statement you find personally insulting] on <3

62. "Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery"

63. Needing desperately to talk to a friend, but they're only allowed 15 minutes on the phone or an hour on the computer, No Exceptions.

64. Loud, persistent noises over which you have no control

65. Toothaches, headaches, stomachaches, growing pains...

66. Realizing a favorite DVD (or worse, video game) has an irreparable scratch only after you've become totally absorbed in it

67. Needing to leave the house FIVE MINUTES AGO and you/your parents CAN'T FIND THE KEYS

68. Being in the middle when two friends have a falling out

69. Those days where nothing sounds good to eat, nothing sounds fun to do, your clothes itch, everything is annoying, and nothing anyone says can make it right.

70. Losing a loved one

Artificial barriers not required. I promise.

(And I could've gone on longer. Feel free to post your own examples in the comments!)

It Gets Better.

ACT I: Trapped

Scene I:

In a rural Southern middle school, a few dozen twelve-year-olds assemble in the science room before school hours, having been promised refreshments if they attend. It is a cold morning in a school with open hallways, and the allure of hot chocolate and central heat is strong. After all the students have settled with their snacks, the adult leading the Bible study group begins his speech.

"Now boys, just because you can't get a girlfriend doesn't mean you turn around and go get a boyfriend."

A sudden bolt of discomfort shoots through a kid sitting near the front. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, wanting desperately to leave the room now that she knows the agenda, but fearing that if she expresses her objection, people will think it is because she is gay.

Scene II:

It gets worse.

It is late summer. A 14-year-old makes a phone call to the boy she has recently broken up with. "Yeah, the thing is... I think I'm a lesbian now." She doesn't know he has another friend silently eavesdropping via three-way call.

A group of tough-looking girls approaches her when school starts. "Are you a lesbian?" they demand.

"No, of course not!" she stammers in a blind panic.

"Why did you tell Joey you were?"

"I didn't! I'm not!" She does the only thing she can think to do, and escapes to the band room - the only room that is open before class. The bullies are not in band and can't follow her. She refuses to spend her mornings anywhere but the band room for the rest of the year, and she cannot tell her friends why.

Months later, in the lunch line, a classmate squints at her. "Are you a lesbian?"

"No!" she blurts out defensively, startled by the question.

"Oh. Well I heard some girl Bonnie was a lesbian."

"Wasn't me."

Scene III:

It gets worse.

A bunch of teenage girls float happily in a swimming pool late at night, after an evening of movies, truth or dare, and mixing up every soda in the house to see what it tastes like. The end result is called a "Suicide."

One of them gives a melancholy glance at a pretty friend of hers. She is seized immediately by guilt for thinking "perverted" thoughts and breaking the sacred trust of sleepovers. No boys are allowed, after all, because they will do just that. She is a wolf in sheep's clothing, sneaking among the flock. She sighs.

Her friend asks what's wrong.

"Oh, nothing really. I've just been... confused about some stuff, I guess." She knows better than to elaborate any further, but deep down, she wishes someone would recognize this as code for I'm queer and terrified to tell you. Someone who would be sensitive enough to tell her it's okay, and that she's not going to Hell.

That won't happen tonight.

After the swim, she accidentally walks in on a friend changing out of her bathing suit, and catches a glimpse of her breasts. She is wracked with guilt, not only for embarrassing her friend, but also for being turned on. Her friend thinks she has been seen only by an innocent straight girl - not a secret pervert.

ACT II: Majority

Scene I:

It gets better.

By some miracle, she finds a group of friends online, from places not so Southern and not so rural, who think being gay is just fantastic. One friend comes out as bisexual and says he likes to dress in drag. Another comes out as gay. Both are accepted by the others with open arms. She's stuffed her own sexuality down and stopped thinking about it, but the longer she's around these friends, she begins to wonder...

Scene II:

It gets better.

An 18-year-old locks her car and glances around nervously, wondering if anyone will see where she is going. She swallows the knot in her throat and clomps up the wood steps to the queer youth center. A cheerful man greets her and talks with her about her plans to get a GED. He seems to genuinely care, even though he's never met her before.

Later that evening, feeling at home among her kind, she performs a ridiculous camped-up version of "Baby Got Back", along with a boy she didn't know before, in the talent show. As the song ends, the other youth shower them with fake paper money, emblazoned with the faces of the youth center staff.

Scene III:

It gets worse.

While her boyfriend of two years is away at work, she clicks on the TV, and is suddenly enamoured by a beautiful woman in a commercial. God dammit, she thinks to herself, I thought those feelings were gone. Her boyfriend's greatest fear is being left for another woman. She wants him to feel secure, so she simply refers to herself as straight. After all, she's with a man now, so what's the difference?

But there is a difference, and it's never going to be okay with him. She gazes at the woman on TV, then frowns.

I'm going to have to leave him, she thinks as she changes the channel. Just... not now.

Act III: Emergence

Scene I:

It gets better.

Feeling inspired by a friend's recent coming out and an impassioned speech by Harvey Fierstein on TV, she makes an announcement to all her friends via a somewhat flowery blog post on MySpace. Not one single person unfriends her or attempts to tear her down. The worst she will have to deal with is a few tokenizing friends-of-friends who expect her to make out with girls at parties - annoying, but not dangerous. Mostly she receives complete support.

She realizes it is only this way because she's spent years carefully sifting and weeding her group of friends until it contains only people who will respect who she is.

Scene II:

It gets better.

She stands in the kitchen, silent. Now, cries something deep inside her. Do it now.

Nuh uh, no way, says her mind, but her voice acts of its own volition.

"I think I might be gay", she stammers, seemingly out of nowhere.

Her quiet, conservative, Southern Baptist mother pauses for not even a moment before flinging her arms around her. "Oh honey, I thought you might be. It's okay! You can even still have kids if you really want! I mean, I'd rather you be gay than be out drinking or something!"

She grins, hugs her mom, and makes a mental note not to put any Smirnoff in the fridge.

Scene III:

It gets better.

She's not sure what to expect, walking into the unschooling conference for the first time. She wants desperately to be liked by these people, but she knows most of the people there will be straight couples with kids. She doesn't realize there will be families with two moms. She also doesn't realize one of those families runs the conference.

For the first time in her life, she is able to be freely and openly queer without a single worry about what anyone will say. All the friends she makes here will be people who know, people she doesn't have to fear losing later When They Find Her Out.

One of her new friends, proudly and unapologetically queer and transgender, balks when she makes clear that she cannot get any job, anywhere, if her employers know she is queer. Another friend, one of the lesbian moms running the conference, reminds her she cannot even adopt if she continues to live in Florida.

"Move up north," they both insist. "Massachusetts is so much better."

A year later, she's hopping a train in Boston, on her way to join some new friends for a queer-friendly board game night. A hand-beaded rainbow bracelet glimmers on her wrist, a gift from one of those gay internet friends of her teen years. She doesn't even think of hiding here.

She has found the friends who will love who she is. She has found the surroundings that make her feel free and safe.

It's better.

Exactly

I was just thinking today about some of the stuff that's gone down this year, and how I totally wouldn't have been ready for it a year ago.

In 2010, I have moved away from home. Really moved, not down the street, not into the city where I can drive home when I get homesick, but moved away. A thousand miles away. I've also dealt with some friend-situations I might not have handled well a year before, like two mutual friends having a messy breakup and getting back together. Currently I'm watching a good friend go through something I can't publicly discuss, but were it not for the things I've learned this year, I wouldn't have been ready to be there for them. And I've dealt with some internal changes and epiphanies I wasn't ready for in 2009.

Ah, but then in 2009, I gave up a well-paying job because it wasn't healthy for me, I began spending lots of time around unschoolers, and I lost my mom. I wasn't ready for those things in 2008. (I wasn't ready to lose my mom ever, but if it had happened in 2008, things would have been a lot, lot, lot worse.)

And what of you, 2008? I spent two weeks in Arizona, I sorta-halfway had a girlfriend, I became part of the unschooling community, gave up my dreams of being a teacher because I realized they were in conflict with my values, then (perhaps hypocritically) I went back into the school system as a teacher's aide, working a really challenging job that I could NOT have done in 2007...

...a year in which I came out of the closet, worked in an office, finished my AA degree, lived in a dorm, lost a favorite great-aunt, and worked as a caregiver for a kid with severe disabilities, who died just as I was getting to know him. Definitely couldn't have handled that stuff in 2006...

...when I broke up with my then-boyfriend, got my first paying job, became a Unitarian-Universalist, and accepted myself once-and-for-all as queer. I wasn't ready for that stuff in 2005.

Have these years been easy? Not really.

Were they painful? Extremely.

Were they fun? Oh hell yes.

But what stands out to me the most is that, when I follow my instincts and my interests, they almost always lead me to the tools and resources I will need to deal with the next challenge.

Even when I'm not exactly where I want to be, I am Exactly Where I Need To Be. I am always growing, always learning.

And so are you.

No sir, no bloggin' today

Okay, I know "hey sorry for not blogging lol btw I'm still not blogging" posts are lame, but I also don't like to just disappear off the face of the Earth without warning. So this is your official "I don't feel like writing, for which I am sort of half-apologizing even though I don't actually feel sorry about it" post.

What's my life looking like right now? It looks like a whole lot of reading, taking shit in, bouncing all around Boston on the train, adjusting to a new place, looking for a job, typical young adult "where the hell is my life going to go" angst, lookin' at webcomics, hanging out with awesome people and eating large quantities of Chinese food.

Pretty standard 25-year-old stuff, yeah?

My writing has also mostly turned to other subjects and formats and forums (fora?). Oddly, I've been writing poetry (I say "oddly" because I typically don't like poetry), which is mostly too personal to share here, and I'm also making tentative plans for NaNoWriMo. So my energies are being poured elsewhere.

Fear not, gentle readers, I am not breaking up with you. I will probably still write here when the urge strikes me. (Given my proclivities toward fickleness, that may well be tomorrow.) But right now, I just don't have a whole lot to say.

We Don't Need to Escalate: 12 Steps to Heading Off a Crisis

I wrote this several months ago in a discussion about aggression on a local unschooling list. It's written from my point of view at about age 14, which is when my temper was the worst, so some parts may not work quite as well with younger kids. Some may be particular to me and not apply to kids with different personalities. Still, I wanted to provide some perspective on what it's like for the kid who has lost control of their emotions, how scary it is for them, and what they might need in order to get them through to a better place.

Ultimately, the best cure for a crisis is prevention. Watch the signs that your kids are getting frustrated with things, do a HALT check (hungry, angry, lonely, tired), and try to solve problems before they reach the fight-or-flight stage. But if they do reach that point - and it happens sometimes, especially with kids who are highly sensitive or have difficulty communicating their needs - these steps should help.

(The first bit is in response to a question about where to draw the line in terms of kids who are trying to fight one another.)

---------

A great thing that Sandra Dodd always says is that the other child, the victim, has a right to feel safe in their own home. The aggressive child's "right" to be aggressive does not outweigh the other child's right to safety and peace. (The same applies to other adults in the house, of course.) So that is where the line should be drawn, I think, with regards to how much you tolerate.

However, that's about the expression of aggression, and I think it's important not to confuse the expression with the emotion behind it. You can communicate to the child that specific actions are not acceptable (a simple "Don't hit me/her/him!" is what I'd use - as opposed to "We don't hit" or "That was mean!" or things like that) while still validating their feelings. Usually a person who is behaving aggressively is flooded with adrenaline and cannot think clearly in that moment. They cannot think ahead to what consequences their actions will have. What we learn as we get older is how to slow that adrenaline flow, to breathe and calm ourselves down before we react. That's really hard for a kid!

When I was younger, I had a very bad temper, and often felt like I was going insane when I got angry. If I could have written a set of guidelines for people to follow when my anger reached "crisis" levels, it would have looked like this:

1. Don't ask me questions or talk too much. I am already overstimulated and more input will only make it worse, and in this state I cannot organize my thoughts into words.

2. Do not touch me, or any object I was just holding or using, unless you must do so to protect me or someone else. I may want a hug when I calm down, but if you come too close when I am raging, I will perceive it as a threat. My instinct will be to get you away from me in whatever way is necessary, no matter how much I love you.

3. Do not, under any circumstances, tell me that the reason I am angry is not a good enough reason to be angry. Don't tell me, in the heat of my anger, that I am being irrational, even if I am. Invalidating my feelings will only make me much, much angrier.

4. My adrenaline rises with the volume of your voice.

5. Make it clear to me that you still love me. I am just as frightened and unhappy about what is going on as you are, and I'm terrified that I will not be forgiven. If you make me feel like a terrible person for being angry, or you threaten me in some way, that only adds to my fear. Fear compounds anger.

6. Now is not the time for problem-solving. The thing that made me angry is no longer the problem. The anger is the problem. Once I have calmed down, we can solve the original problem, but not before.

7. I need to get this anger out. I simply cannot sit and stew in it. I need to yell, I may need to stomp, and I may need to physically destroy something (giving me some old magazines to rip is a good idea). If there is another person in the house who cannot handle my reaction then we need to be in separate rooms until I have calmed down.

8. Since I cannot think clearly in this moment, I need you to protect me from doing things I will regret. Don't allow me to injure people or pets, destroy anything that has value to me or others, or say things that will not be forgiven. Again, you may need to separate me from others and simply be alone with me until I am calm.

9. If I want to be alone, respect that. But do not force me to be alone against my will. I am frightened of my own anger and will become much more frightened if I feel caged and abandoned.

10. When I finally calm down (which happens remarkably quickly when all escalating stimuli are removed), I will be feeling trauma from the emotional stress we all just went through, fear that I may have made everyone hate me, shame and frustration with myself for losing control, and physical exhaustion from the adrenaline storm. *This* is the time when I need a hug - a long, close, "everything is okay, just breathe with me" hug. I will probably be sobbing at this point. Know that you are not rewarding my actions by comforting me - I am deeply remorseful at this point. You are giving me the security of knowing I can trust you in my very worst moments, and that is something I desperately need.

11. After I have stopped crying, washed my face, had a cool drink, and we've all laughed together, I'll be able to handle some gentle problem solving. After we've all been emotionally "emptied out", so to speak, it will be easy to talk through what happened and figure out what we could do differently next time. After what we've just been through, we'll all be eager to remember a better solution so it doesn't get this bad again.

12. At this point, one of two things should happen: Either I or the other people involved will be exhausted and want to be alone, or we will be eager to bond again to prove to each other that everything's okay. This is a good time for a quiet board game or a lighthearted movie together, some cuddle time, and some ice cream.

Alas, a meme

My last post was all bitter and angry, so I decided to balance that out with a nice friendly meme, which came from Olivia.

Books I've read recently or am reading now:

I've been too busy to read much since I got to Boston, but over the summer I read My Gender Workbook, Wishcraft, some of The Impossible Will Take A Little While, and I kept trying to start Lord of the Rings but I think I just need to give up and accept that Tolkein's writing style is not for me.

8 Songs or Albums I listen to all the time:

"Call and Answer" by Barenaked Ladies

"I Palindrome I" by They Might Be Giants

"Ohio" by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young

"Giant" by Melissa Etheridge

"The Great Beyond" by R.E.M.

"One Man's Dream" by Yanni

"Trinity" by Paper Tongues

"Hallelujah" by Rufus Wainwright

8 Things I love:

My friends

Chinese food

Hula hooping

The Venture Bros.

Nerds (the people, but I also enjoy the candy)

Rainbows

Fall

Boston

8 Things I've learned this year:

It's stupid to try to get through life without other people.

If your gut is telling you to be somewhere, go there, even if you can't come up with a good explanation for why you're doing it.

Having a vagina does not obligate me to do anything.

If you are friends with both members of a couple and they break up, stay the hell out of that shit.

I don't need to fret over "not having a family" or the fact that my kids won't have grandparents and aunts and uncles and stuff, because I have lots of awesome people in my life and that is what matters.

If a person makes you uncomfortable and you can't place why, it may be your gut trying to tell you something.

Anger is a perfectly rational response to bullshit.

Love is a good thing, even if it's not in the form you'd prefer.

8 new recipes I want to try and make by the end of the year:

Mehhh I don't cook much really. My roommate makes some kickass lentil soup, I should learn to make that.

8 Favorite online hangouts:

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

X-E

LJ

Wherever the party's at, man

8 Projects I need to work on:

Getting a jeeerb

Attempting to salvage my Dell by installing Ubuntu on it

Figuring out how to make my stupid Gateway actually burn the Ubuntu CD

Somehow purchasing an entire winter wardrobe

Relearning sign language

Writing a post on "giftedness"

Compiling a list of books I wanna read

Learning some new hoop tricks

*I am pretty sure there was another thing I'm supposed to do and I can't remember what it was and now that is making me nervous

8 people I think should do this tag:

The ghost of Elvis

The one-armed man

RuPaul

Slim Goodbody

Sir Ian McKellen

Hermione Granger

My dog

LeVar Burton

but none of them read my blog, so I'll have to settle for you people. If you feel like it :p