2 of my favorite stories about...

1 of my favorite girls.
Anyway today is Mara's 23rd birthday (it's my mom's as well but I don't have any great stories about her) and so I thought about a few favorite memories I have.
First, this happened sometime in the spring of sophomore year when we were all playing Beirut in one of my friend's dorm room. He sort of lived in a "frat" section and we drank alot so we had no qualms with drinking openly. It was after the Ben Folds/Ben Lee in Page and we had just gotten back. So we get to the room and are beginning to set up the table. I had a beer in my hand because why not but everyone else was watching something on t.v. The table was ready to go and our door was about halfway open. it just so happened that an RA was making rounds at this moment and she claimed to hear ping pong balls (which had to be bs.) Anyway she stood in the door and was going to write us citations, for drinking games are illegal at Duke. Now at this point Mara was freaking out because she was applying to be an RA and she was really worried that this would jeopardize her chances so when the RA came she started to get really upset. Her boyfriend was in the room as well and he got quite angry claiming that the door was actually shut, negating her right to enter and inspect the room. When the RA asked for all of our names everyone gave them their own, me included still holding and drinking a beer during the whole thing ( I was older than the hills; I didn't care about citations) but when she asked for Mara's name, Scott, her boyfriend piped in with Lin. He didn't have a clear spelling in mind so when the RA, who was a chinese international grad student spelled it that way he hurriedly agreed. When asked the last name Scott in his spontaneous manner said Smith. All of us were holding in our laughter at this point over the genericness of Smith but it got even funnier in our minds especially when Scott was trying to close the door in her face. But it all worked out. I think a few of us ended up playing Beirut anyway that night ( everything was already set up) and none of us actually were written up, which I attribute to Mara's crying in her office, and so she was able to become an RA. That is another story, but we all still remember and have laughs over Lin Smith (though it was a touching gesture of love....I guess)

More importanlty Mara was involved in the nicest thing that anyone has maybe ever done for me. It was sometime in late winter early spring of this year when I was just sort of talking about decorating. I guess the hormones were beginning to affect me emotionally but I was sort of upset about my room and wanted to change it's decor. I guess I told Mara how I wanted some flowers in my room, purely as me thinking out loud and as an aside. But the next day when I got back from campus, on my desk was a bouquet of the most gorgeous flowers ( I don't remember what kind they were but I like to think they were pink) that Mara had gotten me "just because." I'm sure during this time I was moodswingy and I don't remember if that day was a bad one for me, but no matter how high or low my spirits were, they definitely lifted them, and anytime I had a bad day for the next week or two all would have to do is look at or smell the flowers and I would remember that someone loved me and that everything is truly good and wonderful. I don't think I'll ever forget that.

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Rainbows and Butterflies

I don't know where this came from but I'm random at times. I was just thinking about Butterflies. I guess there are obvious parallels to transsexuality and once I started getting serious about transitioning I grew to care about them more. And I liked them for their beauty and metaphors. During finals period when I was researching a paper and reading My Gender Workbook by Kate Bornstein and she had an anecdote about how sometimes when life is hard and you wish you could get through the transition quickly and painlessly but, she goes on with a similar story to this:

Once upon a time, a young girl was playing in her grandmother's garden when she noticed some butterfly cocoons getting ready to open. She watched the first butterfy trying to come out of its home. It struggled, and took a long time. By the time the butterfly got out, it was exhausted. It had to lay on the tree branch and rest awhile before it could take flight. The little girl felt so terrible for the little butterfly, who had to go through so much of a struggle just to get out of his little cocoon.
When the little girl saw the second cocoon getting ready to hatch, she didn't want it to go through what the first butterfly did. So she helped open the cocoon herself, and took the butterfly out. She laid him on the branch, and saved him from the struggle.
But the second little butterfly died, while the first little butterfly who had fought so hard took off into the sky.
Distraught, the little girl ran to her grandmother, crying. "What happened? Why did the second butterfly die?" she asked.
Her grandmother explained that butterflies have a liquid in the core of their body, and as they struggle to get out of the cocoon that liquid is pushed into the veins in the butterfly wings where it hardens and makes the wings strong. If the butterfly doesn't push and pull and fight to get out of the cocoon, his wings won't be strong enough to fly, and the butterfly dies.
"Without the struggle, there are no wings," Grandmother said as she stroked her grand-daughter's hair.. "Just like it will be with you, child. In life you will go through hard times. But it is the hard stuff, the struggle, that will help you grow, and help you learn to fly."
"But won't it hurt?" asked the little girl.
"Sometimes, things will hurt. Sometimes, things will be hard. But one day, it'll all be worth it. And you'll learn from all your struggles-- they'll teach you how to fly!"

When I first read that I was like "wow;" it just seemed so perfect, so poetic and inspirational...and it still is. I thought a butterfly, as cliche as it is, would be my totem. Then I found out that butterflies, for all their beauty and freedom, have on average about a two week life span. Which is not okay, especially because in my freaking out moments I remember some study where 50% of trans people die before 30. So though I still like butterflies and still plan on including it integrally in a tattoo I've decided my totem should be something more everlasting. So I think I'm going to stick with a phoenix as my guide. I mean they go through stuff too, its just far between and after they've lived for a while; seems a good enough price to pay. Now that I remember, I did have a phoenix on my high school class ring, so that may have already made it official.

And once again I don't know where this post came from, but whatevs.

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I Guess I Like Some of These Things Too

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Cream colored ponies and crisp apple streudels
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad...


John Coltrane- My Favorite Things buy it

Andre 3000- My Favorite Things (mp3) buy it

(this was purely an experiment; I have no idea what I was experimenting in or how well it turned out but, whatevs)

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I Can't Wait to See This

Here's a preview for Pushing Daisies that I found through Buzzfeed, a site that is constantly growing on me. Pushing Daisies is gonna be a show on ABC and it reminds me of the whimsy and magicalness of something like Big Fish and it has that whole unfulfilled, victorian restraint from the outwardness of love, that is so romantic in its way. It looks so cute and sunshiny. Have a look for yourself.

I really hope its as good as this preview looks, and that network t.v doesn't screw it up

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I've Found My Favorite Flower

This week my mom hosted a Revival and so every night until about 11 I had to be at my favorite place (church) with my favorite people( old southern Black Christians). Needless to say I tried to find any excuse to not be in the building. So as I was watering the lawn in the front yard of the church I saw a beautiful pink flower rising from a single stalk nestled against the wall of the property next door. I had no idea what kind of flower it was; it reminded me of a lily but I had only seen white lillies. I plucked off the only full blossomed bulb and put it in my hair. When I asked my mom she told me that it was a Pink Lady so the next morning (yesterday morning in fact)- church exhausts me- I googled Pink Lady flower, because I didn't want to have any unnecessary Grease references. I looked through a tonne of images to find something close and I came upon the Pink Lady's slipper which looked nothing like my new love. In fact it looks kinda like a discolored scrotum, or I guess a pink slipper. I then googled "pink lily flower single stalk" and went through more images (I know this isn't that exciting but hopefully it conveys the boredom that I felt and the incredible desire to figure out what this flower is, so I can demand it in every bouquet I receive) until I discovered it.
The Naked Lady (I wish I looked as good naked) or the official name Amaryllis Belladonna minor. How perfect is that? And the fact that in Italian, the most beautiful of languages "belladonna" of course means beautiful lady (as well as being the name of an amazing Stevie Nicks album) made me love it even more.

At this point in my life I'm sort of rediscovering everything and everything that I have magically discovered and come to love somehow can be used as a metaphor for me, at least to me. In this case Amaryllis means, in its original Latin form amarysso means to sparkle. "The beautiful woman sparkles." I think most every girls' dream is to be so beautiful as to sparkle (and is infintely better than my birth day flower, the anemone which means forsaken-though of course at times that name unfortunately feels like it fits.The story behind the anemone flower's name is a sad one. The name comes from Greek and roughly translates into "windflower". It is said in Greek Mythology that the anemone flower sprang up from the blood of Aphrodite's slain lover, Adonis. The name "windflower" signifies that the wind that blows the petal open will also, eventually, blow the dead petals away.). In the language of the flowers, the Amaryllis stands for pride, a coquette and splendid beauty
Like myself, it is not winter hardy and survives better in the southern half of the u.s. or indoors. They are at their best or flower best with a bit of neglect and relatively lean soil; they often grow up from rocks. I must say I do my best work in similar conditions( I'm not as needy as I may seem at times). In South Africa they are called the March Lily (ahem march 9th) and just like lil' ole me they're a hybrid.
They make me so happy. So if you ever worry about what to give me as a gift, what girl doesn't like flowers.
(and I know this is the second Saturday in a row where I've posted about Pink;what can I say? It's growing on me)

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