April 11th, 2001

Chalkboard

Birth Control; Men Need to Do Their Part Too.

OMG you guys I am feeling soo sick : ( I caught this nasty flu cold thing from someone, which is such a drag because I'm such a germ phobic freak. I worry about salad bars and touching things in public bathrooms, and I carry around that antibacterial gel. I HATE being sick. I know I'm being a baby. I'm soo lucky. I can walk, I have all my limbs, I don't have cancer, so I just want to tell myself to shut up.

Aside from this flu buggy deal I've started a pile of new medications so I'm having fun little side affects, like nausea and flushing. I kind of knew I was going to have a hard time because when I first met this woman who had the same thing I have (the elevated liver enzymes, insulin resistance, cysts on the ovaries, high testosterone, weight gain, the whole pretty package) she told me that she lost eighty pounds but that was because she was throwing up for months from the birth control pills and the glucophage. I know it doesn't have to be that way for everyone but man do I feel awful, (at least I didn't have to have my butt examined, right Howie?) It would be worth it though if I lost eighty pounds.

Please bear in mind that the rest of this is in response to how angry I feel about the way men I've been in relationship with have conducted themselves with regard to birth control. I really love men and don't think they all act like this. I'm sure there are many of you here who are incredibly sensitive to these issues and loving to your partners. I just need to vent a bit.

I'm about to take my brand new birth control pills. I just started yesterday and had to double up because the cycle is supposed to start on Sundays. In the middle of the night I had these weird hot flashes and cramps and just knew it was the hormones in the pills. I'm just super sensitive, I've always been that way, I feel and sense things doctor's and pharmacists don't think people will feel.

Can I just say how much I hate it that all the men I've ever met hate using rubbers, and just expect me to figure out the birth control? It's just so fucking insensitive, selfish, and unsupportive you know? It hurts my feelings so much that men will just expect me to risk uterine perforations and infertility and thrombosis as a given, you know, without even talking to me lovingly about it. I was telling my partner that I am only going to take these birth control pills until they dissolve the cysts, and I could hear this sort of blink-pause in his voice, and he said, "Well then what are YOU going to do?" Can you believe that?

I know that there aren't very many alternatives for men but I'm sure that's because the doctors who invent the various methods of birth control would so much rather foist the burden and risk on us gals. Can you just envision what whiners men would be if they were the ones who had to take the pills and have weird things shoved up their cocks or inserted in their forearms? You know they'd just be sitting around holding their dicks and saying things like, "I'm sorry honey I just don't feel like it tonight." I wonder how they'd deal with bloating and cramps and weird hormonal cycles? I suppose it would certainly be worth it to some young ambitious doctor to invent something new for men, but for now the least I think I deserve is to have someone I make love with, not just blow off the risks I take in order to prevent pregnancy, when I'm not even the one who doesn't want to get pregnant.

My ex did the same thing, not only to me but to all of the women he cheated on me with. We had talked about my getting pregnant after we'd been married a couple of years, so when year three rolled around I told him I was done being responsible for the birth control and that he could take over. Of course he never ever wore a rubber, not once, and then whoops, surprise, I was pregnant. I know of at least two other women he got pregnant because he couldn't be bothered to spare us all the pain of his having another child while he was still married to me. As far as I know none of these poor unfortunate women actually had these kids, one had a miscarriage, and he wouldn't even help pay the bills, jerk. Don't get me started, it's just so Jerry Springer and I should have known, water always seeks it's own level. I was so naive and idealistic, I thought love conquered all, now I'm starting to understand the value of good matchmaking.

Wouldn't it be nice to hear, "Sweetheart, you've been shouldering the burden for us for ten years now, I am so appreciative, and if you'd like a little time off from having to do weird things to your body, I'll take this on for a little bit?" Nope, not gonna hear that one in this lifetime, well at least not voluntarily. This is the kind of stuff that makes me want to say mean things like, fuck men, but I really love them and it wouldn't be fair to the sensitive men out there who do share the burden.

I know that wearing a rubber can be a challenge and takes away some of the wetness and the warmth. I've tried sucking my finger through a balloon to see what it would be like, and okay isn't that a big deal lessening of sensation boohoo kind of thing, but at least it's over with when you cum. You can take the damned thing off. My IUD was with me 24/7 and didn't go away after sex. Every month I had to worry about tugging on this little metal string when I had to deal with my period, and accidentally yanking on that thing is painful and scary. I also had the fun of knowing that there was a chance it could cause Pelvic Inflammatory Disease, or perforate my uterus. It was really hard reading all of the warnings on the package including the lovely, by the way you could die, one, and now here I am back on the pill after all of these years. Now I get to deal with thins like weird little skin tags, which I got before and had to have removed, tender breasts and Lord knows what else. Of course there's also the insert which mentions all of the various ways I could get sick and die. So no I'm not going to do this permanently and yes I am doing this therapeutically in order to wipe out these cysts so I won't have to have surgery. Argh. Very pissed off me.
Chalkboard

Ana and Tampons, Clarice Cliff and Me.



My life can be so much fun sometimes. I'm so grateful that for now, for this brief period of time, I don't have to work a 9-5 job, and can pursue whatever interests me. Now whether I can make that happen while caring for so many people at the same time remains to be seen, sigh, and of course there's the problem of money and the stress of never having enough and being someone who wants to collect beautiful things.

Here's what I've done so far since we last met. Last night I braved the challenges of Live Journal style tweakage and changed things a round a little bit. I don;t know why but it was really hard for me to acquire the little bit of knowledge it took for me to be able to do this. I know what I like visually so style is never the problem, it's the mechanics of it. Anyway so I fiddled around with it for a while last night, going back and forth with different fonts and finally settling temporarily on the one I have up now. I really like Lucida sans script is it? but I worried whether people would be able to read it or not. I don't like these boring black grey bars on either side of my writing and want to change them to a white background with Chinese characters. Anyone know how to do that? Do I just design my own background and if so how big should it be, etc.? Are there places where we can go find backgrounds? I like Stacy's exotic animal print because it's cool and kitschy but I a.) don't want to copy her cause "dats not nice mama", (Beau used to say that all the time, so cute) and b.) it doesn't really go with all of the vintage prints I put up. Anyone have any ideas?

Okay so moving on, after I wrote my long ranty thing about being mad at my man re. birth control, I cruised around and read my friend's journals. You know, I do my best to read them, I can't always post because it takes so long just to read them. I'll get better though, maybe the Ritalin will help, heh, drugs. Anyway I read journals and then went to analand to write her a little thank you note for the daisies she and MAW sent me, and to ask her about her birthday, shoot I can't write about that because this goes up on her friends page and she might read this, ook. Yeah Missy you just might read this so no peeking for you. So I was at anatwo and found out that there had been this whole mean drama about her having posted pics of her tampon and pussy, which I think is the coolest thing, because it's just so feminist art radical and so her. Really, I love that about her, she always kicks me up a step in terms of bravery. I mean for me it's hard enough to write the words tampon and pussy here, let alone put up pictures and deal with the flack that would engender, people, sheesh.

So I guess what I'm getting at is that when I see this kind of thing on her journal I am reminded of what a wonderful muse and friend she has been to me. When I see some of the shocked reactions she gets I think well, they're just not there yet, you know, someone has to lead, and I'm always grateful to the people who do, in this case it's clearly my little anawee. There's that quote that I can't remember exactly, but it's something along the lines of our embracing the conformists while they're here and idol worshipping the iconoclasts when they're gone. That is such a sad and very telling thing about us. Wouldn't it be better to discover the truth tellers and the artists while they're here among us, and try to make their lives a little easier? I want to celebrate and embrace the iconoclastic, the unusual, the wild, and the exotic while we're all here together and can inspire each other to greater good. That's why I fell in love with ana the second I first saw here on some show on television, it was just this moment of clarity and recognition, an instantaneous communal click sort of thing. Maybe we do travel in groups and it's some kind of soul recognition, who knows, but I don't want to appreciate a beautiful butterfly when it's gone, I don't want to pin it's wings and watch it deteriorate in some dusty Victorian display. I want to watch it flit around and live it's life while it's here, and more than that I want it to be happy.



When I first started tentatively posting things on her ana's private BBS over three years ago, (can you believe that, time truly does fly), I was very held back and constrained, well for me anyway. I was afraid to reveal certain intimate details about my life, worried they might be dredged up by some tabloid, used against me somehow at some future time when my cherished dream of becoming an Oscar winning actor had come true. Then slowly I realized how ridiculous and well, arrogant that was and began to express and reveal things closer to my heart. Now while I may still be laden with hang ups and neurosis, I am so much braver and closer to revealing my true self than ever before.

This conflict between expressing my true nature versus trying to please my Mother, and her conservative social world, or what I imagined as acceptable image control for an actor, has been a lifelong struggle for me. I started doing this way back in grammar school when I started to make up rules for what I thought a serious actor would and wouldn't do. I told my best friend then that I would never do a commercial or go on a game show, this was in like third or fourth grade, because I thought a really good actor wouldn't do that. So sad, what a waste of energy and time. I should have just bust out and been myself, not that I didn't do some of that, but not nearly enough.



I think naturism, being naked with other people and going to Burning Man has helped a lot with that as well, and maybe growing up as I get older. Plus there was the breakdown of the stigma, or the wall that existed between television and film acting, and the fact that brave women like Roseanne came along and told us everything about themselves and still survived. I mean you wouldn't have been able to come out and say you were multiple and had turned tricks and still have a career when I was in college. Things were so much more uptight then. Now it's kind of a free for all, with uniqueness and self expression gaining more acceptance by the minute. I'm sure we have the Internet and brave creatures like ana to thank for that.

Well, that was a rant and a half of digression. I just wanted to tell you what I did last night and so far today. I'm still sick so it doesn't look like I'm going to get that long yearned for mini spring vacation. I still have Easter basket shopping to do, and there's Mom who when getting presents for Beau, never can manage to make it easy, and wants to take him out to buy him an "outfit." Beau is downstairs playing with his friend Shayan again. Beau's playing his clarinet for him. How did I get so lucky? I wish I had just one more, a little girl, someone two or three years old who needs a home. I'd like a biracial baby, Asian or black. Noemi likes to tease me and say that I want a Chinee baby. They say Chinee in Belize as in Chinee-man, he was a Chinee-man. It isn't derogatory as fas as I can tell and kind of sounds cute somehow. She says I like everything Chinee. Yeah, I like everything Chinese, everything except the scary fucking government who won't give back Tibet or our plane or it's passengers.

Yeay, Tom and Pooka and their family are happy. Tom has a disabled adult child, a sweet son who is in his thirties, but who I think is about ten or twelve age wise, and he is so in love with Pooka but is calling him Pookie as in Pookieman/Pokeman, they just never got the fairy sprite concept. That's okay as long as Pooka is happy. I need to see him soon though because I'm having Pooka withdrawal symptoms.



Okay so finally, so far today I've been dealing with business stuff and I discovered a couple of fun things. I called the catalogue department of Christie's, because I missed the Tony Duquette auction and wanted to see if I could at least get the catalogue. I love their catalogues because not only are they super informative and fun to look at and fantasize about, but their photography and painting catalogues are great for collage. I love collage. While browsing catalogues I learned about Clarice Cliff. Now I have a new interest to study up on and that's fun for me.

Okay so to recap; ana brave, people cowardly, I'm looking for backgrounds, examples of type styles, and am interested in Clarice Cliff. I'm always grateful.

Big hugs from your pal,
Wacqui

  • Current Music
    more blah blah blah