zine!

found this through sally darity's web journal.  sally darity is awesome.  check out her sites too!

Why She Doesn't Give A Fuck About Your Insurrection | zinelibrary.info

my bed, the island.

sometimes ovulating is fun.  this month isn't one of those times.  i just feel down.  lonely and lame.  i need more structure in my life.  working from home doesn't work so well for me.  i need a reason to get out of bed and go out into the world.  sober.   i'd just be more productive and feel a lot better about my work if i had an office to get up and go to.  but really, i'd make an ass out of myself less often if i had more practice being around people.  sober.  being left alone to my own devices always has such strange consequences for me.  particularly when i'm ovulating and the rush of hormones makes certain demands on my body and mind.  an urgent need to get laid and perpetual brokeness sends me searching craigslist ads, although i've never been strong enough to go through with it.  i suppose i've convinced myself not to go that way, at least not while living here.  stupid stigma.  perhaps someday when i finally escape.  but it certainly would kill two birds with one stone.

its rather annoying that i've moved on from my love of casual sex.  it was just so much easier when i just wanted to get down and didn't care about the men i fucked.  although that only really worked if dude didn't care about me either, cuz broken hearts aren't sexy.  i wasn't trying to hurt anyone..but i definitely shoulda slowed down and given a shit more.  seen them for people.  thats what makes a lover.  really seeing someone.  but damn..learning that part has really messed with my sexuality.

cuz now i have this cumbersome desire to be cared for.  or maybe its just that unless you have time to teach a guy a thing or two he probably won't really know what he's doing, so you can't rely on him to get you off.  its that whole seeing you thing.  one night stands don't really see each other..just their own desire to get off.  maybe i'm confusing wanting affection with wanting a decent lover.  nah, i wish.  affection would be cool.

bleh.  its so pathetic that i get so bummed out about not having a partner.  i mean, its a bit cyclical.  of course i don't have anyone when desperation is leaking out of my pores like too many 40s.  not cute.  but again, it goes with ovulating.  my desperation is a direct result of monthly coexisting waves of depression and nymphomania.  its really an unfortunate combination.  what the hell was evolution thinking on that one?

of course, i'd imagine i must have a reputation as a woman who always wants to get down but refuses to get serious with anyone.  certainly has turned off a fella or two that i actually did want to explore a relationship with.  it sucks that more men in fresno don't get the polyamory thing.  open relationships work in both our interests buddy!  ultimately i just don't see myself settling down and i do take the commitment of monogamy very seriously.  why take that step if we already know its a temporary path.  that leads to a break up.  and break ups suck so who would want to go there?  and i know i won't settle down with anyone who doesn't share my values.  there are sadly few men in fresno who "get it" and i just don't want to risk losing any of the amazing women in my life.  you know, cuz of that inevitable break up business.  i just need to get out of fresno.  go somewhere with a better ratio of people who "get it" to conservative cro-mags.  a dating pool that doesn't consist solely of my friends.

dang.  what am i even writing about at this point?  blah blah blah.  poor me, no one to fuck.  yeah, i need to get outta the house more.

red berry roobios.

we dated for two years or so. off and on. it was pretty clear: we were a disaster. fumbling through uncomfortable misunderstanding after the next, arguing over emails because we were both too nervous to just hang out and talk. i feel like i'm only barely getting to know you now. each of us have been through a relationship or two since we last held each other. you got yr heart broken, i just retreated further into my cave. us damaged goods, we're no good for each other.

but hangin out again, i told you it would happen. the feelings creep up. trust me, i've tried not to. you were pretty (mean) clear when you told me you didn't want to hear about that. what am i supposed to do? yr still the handsome guy who (mostly) gets it and mumbles weird jokes and makes silly little noises i like to pretend are just for me. yr still the same person who touched me so lovingly, even though you were scared. scared to be sexual. but it was more sensual than anything, something most guys don't know shit about. oh gosh yr hands! and yr still the ally and comrade i need, the guy who rides bikes to the protest with me. you really think making me dinner afterwards is gonna make me wanna be just friends?

i just want someone who will hang out at copy machines and actions with me, someone who will touch my hips or side when i need it. is that so much to ask?

i know i should stay away, but every time i resolve to stay away from you i pick up the phone and call you. its the pisces in me. and you invite me over for coffee and whatever cds you've burnt me.

no i will not stay the night. on yr couch. the couch we used to make love on when you were still couch surfin there. thats the last place i want to be alone with my thoughts.

what my momma taught me.

my mom didn't really have friends when i was growing up. mostly she hung out in bed watching her soaps. she had them record on a timer every day while she was at work. then she would come home, lay in bed and watch them and drink coronas. over dinner she would tell my dad about her day, mostly complaining about the incompetencies of her coworkers.

i mean, i remember going to the library with her, watching her do her homework. she was a determined woman. no doubt i got that from her. mom took night classes to finish her degree in finance. then went on to get a masters. it must have been hard working and raising a family and going to school. all my childhood i watcher her busy and stressed out. busy and stressed out. lying in bed watching her soaps to unwind.

i'm so much like her. always busy and stressed out. don't know how to have a conversation unless its to complain. i just don't know how to talk to people. i can barely remember a handful of times when my mom hung out with anyone. we got together with my dad's friends a couple times a year and my mom was cool with all the wives. and she was close with one of her sisters, but she lived by the beach so they talked on the phone. my dad would see his friends, and there was a camaraderie working out on the job site i don't think she got working in an office. it must have been lonely.

thats what i learned from her, how to keep busy and be lonely. ok, i'm not being fair, i also learned to be really strong and smart. but being a strong, intelligent woman + incredibly awkward and bad at chit chat is alienating. the loneliness is killing me. its not her fault, i'm not trying to say that. i see how she was doing the whole supermom thing, having her ed career and family. i'm damn proud of her for getting her degrees and not letting us get in the way of that. its too bad women can't have it all and fit happiness in there too. she's happier now, has friends. i guess now that we're outta the way she has time for herself.

a statement to men who don't like when women get angry about sexism.

why are there only about 5 guys in fresno secure enough in themselves to accept feminist rage without getting butt-hurt? i understand that its about all the bullshit masculinity imposed on you guys, having to prove yrselves all yr lives, survive the guantlet of the locker room and all that. but seriously, this king of the hill game (as robert jensen puts it. getting off: pornography and the end of masculinity. read that shit!), this fight to prove yr a big man, doesn't seem that fun. and the guys i know who don't play that game tend to be the guys who aren't sexist squeeze bags who leer and cat call at women, who make existing in public spaces an uncomfortable, sometimes excruciating, sometimes dangerous experience for us on a daily basis. my friends and i can't walk around town without men leering at us, yelling things at us, following us, reminding us that men are sanctioned in our society to own, harass, fuck, and attack women. can you please take a moment to think about what that is like to have the constant reminder keeping fear and discomfort in the back of our heads? sure its not all men, but what we need you to realize is the reason we generalize is because its a generally applicable statement. the fact that you aren't a squeeze bad doesn't mean that squeeze bagness isn't a fully common characteristic among men.

so why cling so defensively to this tired, binary idea of 'manhood'? why not just be a person? cuz yr trying really hard to defend a pretty scary team. but whatev, all i'm sayin is be secure enough in yrself to get that we talk to you about it cuz we have this misguided idea that yr on our team, that yr safe. on the "gets it" team. on the "we just want to be whole people" team. on the "not a scary douche bag" team. knowing what defensive assholes clinging to Team Manhood makes guys, don't you think i'd reserve my comments for men i trust and respect and feel safe with and thought understood me?

how about instead of getting defensive try hearing us out. listen to us. and quit denying that there is a problematic gender dynamic going on in our society cuz in the end you and i both know that you get privileges from this system. i know stepping away from what yr used to is scary, but in the end being whole people and living in a society of mutual respect sounds pretty cool.

and i'm not going to have respect for men as a whole until the men who should "get it" start a) doing their own homework on this shit and b) start preachin the good word to other men of not being sleazy douche bags. stop doubting us that that shit is pervasive and impacts our quality of life cuz it just makes you really sucky and means yr presence isn't a mentally safe space for us.

you want us to change the way we talk about shit then lets dialogue instead of getting defensive cuz you know what, i have a right to be angry and so do other women and you treating me like theres something wrong with my anger is bullshit. the tv and billboards and magazines sell you beer and so much more with our bodies. we spend our whole childhoods being told to be the passive princess saved by the mighty prince which has a serious impact on the way we see ourselves in the world and in relationships.  men get role models that are action heros and burly athletes, not damsels in distress. we are discouraged from having sex knowing about sex knowing how to talk about sex and our desires and our consent. on the other hand, men are encouraged through media, sports, porn, and each other to treat us like trophies or tits on two legs.  guys get encouraged to be sexual, to watch porn, and most of you don't even see us while yr inside us cuz its more about having a warm, wet place to stick yr dick in then about connecting. and even the ones who are about connecting too often learned their moves from porn so they still don't see us. we live in two different worlds. not that men are from mars bullshit, but seriously, our whole lives we get different messages from society. i think it was marilyn frye who talked about how women have to see both sides cuz we have to know how to anticipate men's moves in order to survive, just as slaves had to anticipate their masters and understand their world views and intentions to survive. men don't have to see our side. men often refuse to see our side, get defensive that we are bothered by the whole thing. i fucking hate thinking that some guy friend of mine is this amazing ally who "gets it" only for him to get butt-hurt when i make broad statements about sucky men. figure it out already. this goes beyond people being assholes, this is about a pervasive system of sexism that is entrenched in every part of our society. yes, women are assholes too. but we don't have that kind of power to hold over you and what i'm talking about goes way above and beyond standard assholeness. i'm talking about this extra dynamic of hierarchy, power, and control. and don't get me wrong, its only one piece of the oppression puzzle. racism, sexism, speciesism, classism, heterosexism, cissexism, able-bodiedism, homophobia, xenophobia, nationalism, i mean the bullshit goes on and on. quit acting like being bothered by it all is silly. you hurt my fucking soul when you refuse to take women's anger or discomfort or fear seriously.

21 things i would like to be doing right now

switchin some things around. this and the next post were written a year ago, wanted to hang on to them for this new blog.

1. lay in bed with a friend

2. walk through the rain sighing
3. kiss your thighs running my finger nails ever higher
4. make a smoothie
5. meet up with my sis in the mountains
6. ride my bike to the northside and back
7. get a new tattoo
8. masturbate in public, or at least with a friend
9. feel my nipples between your teeth
10. eat a sandwich with hummus, tofurkey, sprouts, and avocado
11. smash a misogynist's face in
12. be near the ocean
13. hop a train
14. stare into the eyes of a someone i have just met, knowing we each want each other something hard
15. hang out with my parents
16. go for a hike in yosemite or the redwoods
17. run away to india
18. begin reading the stack of books waiting at home for me
19. kiss the neck, then breasts of the charming woman i met yesterday
20. draw pictures of folks sitting across the coffee shop
21. eat vegan sushi

it'll be interesting to see how this thing works out.

this is a beautiful morning. a great day to start this little project. lets see how it goes. i'm sure i could use this, not so sure anyone else can. we'll see..

i'm meli. there was a dance party at my house last night that included lots of cheap wine, good music, and people i've come to really feel comfortable and happy around. comfortable enough to dance around like a drunken spaz with. they are so full of positive energy and willingness to see where the moments take us. in our ecstatic bopping about we danced a 80sglamrockhokeypokey and i got to slow dance with a woman whose soul seems to sit at the bank of a deep spring, her reflection looking up at the world, smiling. she's beautiful and her voice and presence soothes me. we flirt sometimes, but i don't know what to do with it. it doesn't seem right. maybe its some sort of untouchablemadonnapedastal thing. stupid. mostly i would just like to hold her hand and cuddle.

ok, this is beside the point. the party was fun, just want i needed. school gets me so wound up and theres never that release of just being with people you love and being silly.

we were up pretty late and too much cheap wine turned into sloppily and shamelessly hitting on mr. talldarkandhandsome, but unfortunetly, as sober meli is well aware, mr. talldarkandhandsome is also mr. shyguywhoiwouldeatalive. i'm supposed to stay away from those. i forget sometimes. thankfully he abruptly left, hopefully not feeling weird or creeped out. chrits i'm such a slob.

old friends came through. its always such a nice surprise when they come in and i remember how long we've been partying with each other. we only see each other so often, but its always comfortable. we knew each other through all the awkward years. (and through all that and even through now they still love me. go figure?)

this morning i woke up just a little on the wrenched side, somehow justified starting my morning with a bowl knowing how much i need to do (and yet i'm also starting this here. so it goes). a bowl led to laying in bed with sudoku led to music... then to b.o.b., every grrl's dearest friend, the battery operated boyfriend. ol' b.o.b. and i haven't seen much of each other recently, in hindsigh perhaps a mistake on my part. but this moring, b.o.b. and i enjoyed a morning together like we haven't had in quite sometime.

i put on centipede e'est, a touring band i once encountered working at the organic megamart. they came through my checkout line the night after their show. some friends of mine came through earlier and mentioned what a great show they had put on, a show that i had flaked on for some useless reason or another. i mentioned how great i heard the show was, lamented missing it, and after ringing up their lunch they got a cd for me from their van. it was nice.

and their cd is amazing. post-punk i think. i don't really know what that means. but whatever in my head post-punk is, thats what it is. and aparently it's fabulous accompanyment to a good bit of jilling off. i'm tempted to write them and thank them for the amazing orgasms they gave me this morning. i haven't writhed around the bed like that in quite sometime. perhaps even revived something that has been missing, something that has been making nights in bed alone (accept of course with the her highness, my kitty) a little lonlier then i like. but who needs to negotiate space in my little cave i sleep in when i can cum my brains out with b.o.b.? it never ceases to amaze me the new tricks b.o.b.'ll pick up now and then.

i really should get to work finishing my paper. its so close to finished and i really think i've done well. i don't think i've ever finished a paper and actually wanted people to read it. maybe i'll post it here. nahh.

tonight, poetry. i probably shouldn't drink any wine.