January 2004

Thursday, 29 January 2004:
All right, so my class schedule this semester is as follows:

  1. Montags: 1100-1150 German. 1430-1550 Classical Art and Archaeology. 1900-2100 Work.
  2. Dienstags: 1330-1450 Music as Political Weapon. 1500-1420 Fundamentals (of Music). 1900-2100 Work. 2100-2130 LGBTA.
  3. Mittwochs: 1100-1150 German. 1430-1550 Classical Art and Archaeology. 1900-2100 Work. 2130-2330 Anime Club.
  4. Donnerstags: 1100-1150 German. 1330-1450 Music as Political Weapon. 1500-1420 Fundamentals (of Music). 1900-2100 Work.
  5. Freitags: 1100-1150 German.

Yay. So the names of the days are in German, of course, because German’s wicked cool and all that good stuff. Please don’t call me at those times. I will not answer. Actually, if you feel like calling me, I probably won’t answer anyway, just because I never carry my cell phone around because no ever calls me because they know I don’t like talking on the phone. Go you all.

Saturday, 10 January 2004:
Today I’m going to the beach. It’s going to be cold, but most definitely fun. The sun is shining and the waves inviting. On Thursday I went clubbing with two of my friends down in West Hollywood at this dance club and bar called Mickey’s on Santa Monica Blvd. Very fun… My first time out clubbing, and we saw pretty boys dancing and a few kissing… Squee! Yaoi slashy joy for my yaoi slashy self. We stayed out until 1:30 AM-ish and then went to IHOP (which one of my friends affectionately calls “Gay-hop”) for a near-enough-to-midnight snack. I ordered a salad… they ordered a cinnamon-apple crepe and a side of bacon (separately). I have to say, it was the most interesting and diverse order I’ve ever seen given to one waiter at one time. Anyway, I got home around 3 AM-ish and went right to sleep. Woke up at noon yesterday and went to lunch… watched the deleted scenes and blooper reel from Pirates of the Caribbean and then went home and arranged CDs for my mom. Yay. Funness. Had a confrontation with a friend online and tried to tell him how I really feel about our whole situation… I’m still not sure how well it went. He’s leaving for school tomorrow. I can tell we’re going our separate ways, but he’s resisting and it’s making everything harder, I think. Oh well. We shall see what we shall see. More later… or tomorrow.

Wednesday, 07 January 2004:
What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? I should be happy. No, really, I should be. I have a good family and good friends. And I try to be good to them. I go to a great school. I have people who love me and want to be with me. I’m talented and intelligent. I’m not a bad person. So why am I not happy? Across the sea, a pale moon rises… I feel so discontent with my life. After all that I just said, I don’t feel any of it. I feel terrible. I feel like I’m searching for something that I can’t possibly ever find, like I’m looking for a white rabbit in a snowstorm. And while I love the snow as it is, it isn’t enough. It’s not that I can’t live if I don’t find it… whatever it is, because I can. I’m a strong person, for all the weak things I do; a lot of the time I don’t feel strong, but I know I am when it really matters. Soon you will see all of your fears will pass away. Safe in my arms, you’re only sleeping. You know how some people get “ready to settle down” after a while of partying and having a good time, being single? Well, I’m ready. I know I’m young, and I certainly don’t want kids anytime soon. But I’m tired of feeling so alone. I don’t like the “I’m single, let’s go out and party” feeling. I mean, I love to party. Dancing is the best sport in the world, but I don’t want to do it alone. Don’t say we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. I don’t like sleeping alone; I don’t like going to the movies or the beach or the mountains alone. I just plain don’t like being alone. And I feel so alone. I mean, it’s not like I’d be a totally dependent person or something; I wouldn’t. I just feel like I need someone who I can count on to always be there; who loves me the most. It’s not like I’d always need them, but I would some, and when I did, they’d be there. You and I will meet again, and you’ll be here in my arms, just sleeping. Just someone who I can love the most, and I’d help them when they’d need it too. I’d always be there for them. It wouldn’t be a one-way thing for them; I’d give my heart, too. But life isn’t like that. I don’t know anyone who I can count on like that. I don’t know anyone who will be there forever, until the end. And I don’t really expect anyone to step up, either. I mean, I’m not being pessimistic here; I’m being realistic. The kind of love I want… I need, is a huge commitment, for me and the other person. I don’t expect someone to know they want me like that this early in our lives… I don’t expect anyone to want me… need me, like that ever, really. I just feel like I’m missing part of my heart. I feel like I could have that maybe sometime in the future, but if I keep thinking like I’m thinking, I’ll scare away the person I love. I hope for a good future, a full heart, but I can’t expect it if I expect such a big commitment. I mean, it is forever. I’m just tired of being worried about it. I’m afraid of being alone. Of sleeping alone, and of dying alone. What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call?

Tuesday, 06 January 2004:
I asked my mom when she knew she was in love with my dad, and she said a couple of things. First, she said that my dad made her laugh and played piano, and those were the two things the caused her to initially fall in love with him. And second, she said that she asked HER mom that and SHE said that if you could see yourself washing the person’s dirty socks in the sink by hand and not minding necessarily, that you’re probably in love. Now, while I can think of at least ten people I wouldn’t mind washing dirty socks for (if you can name all ten I can think of off the top of my head, I’ll give you a dollar), I think making me laugh is a big deal. I’m not a big laugh-y type person… it’s not in my philosophy. So if someone can make me laugh, it’s a big deal for me. I fall for that person harder and faster than if they couldn’t (or didn’t) make me laugh. Ahem, anyway. If you haven’t read my Thoughts in a while (or ever), hello. I’m Eve. Check out my About*Me page and the Disclaimer (both reachable through the links above) before you go any further. If you have any questions or comments beyond that, feel free to email me anytime. My mailbox is always open. I’m actually working on a FAQ for my site; I seem to get a lot of random emails from people I don’t know (not that I DON’T get random email from people I DO know, but it’s different, ya know?) that cover a whole range of topics. Like this one I received a little bit ago:

“Hello, my name is Silvia (Eve’s note: I’ve changed her name for her privacy). I just wanted to tell you that I like most of your site. Except for the gay parts. And there’s too much writting [sic] and not enuff [sic] pics. Do you think you culd [sic] add a pic of yourself somewhere? I culdn’t [sic] find any. And also, why are you gay? You know that your [sic] going to hell, right, if your [sic] gay? I just thought I’d warn you because I care about you. But on the upside, you like Bright Eyes. Their [sic] sooooo [sic] cool. Maybe youll [sic] just go to purgatory. Lucky you. Love, Silvia.”

Now please remember, I don’t know “Silvia”; I’ve never picketed her workplace, made love to her, talked to her, or even met her. I mean, I suppose it’s possible that this is some long lost friend of mine, but I doubt it. Another note, in case you, Reader, don’t know this already: “[sic]” means that I’m not the one who made that spelling/grammatical error — the original writer did. In this case, that original writer, or “writter” as I’m sure she’d put it, is Silvia. As you can tell, she’s not going to major in English in college (hopefully). Anyway, on to the content. In response to Silvia:

Hello, Silvia. Thanks for your email, but I’m happy the way I am (in this respect, anyway), and I think that if you stop trying to change other people, you might be happier, too. Thanks for taking a look at my site, but what’s wrong with being gay? I’m not going to hell because I’m gay. I’m not going to hell at all. If any hell exists in this world, it IS this world, but that’s because people hate each other and don’t understand each other and don’t TRY to understand each other. Otherwise, there is no hell. In fact, I’m not gay, if you want to get technical. I’m absolutely positively sure I’ve gone over this before (in my Random*Thoughts), but I suppose I can go over it again. If you must label me, I’m genderqueer (that is, I’m not male or female, I just am) and pansexual (I love gay people, straight people, transgender people, girls, boys… I love beauty. I base my partner selection on the person, not their sex or sexual orientation). And trust me: people love who they love through genetics. That is, my best friend is straight and attracted to the opposite sex because she was born that way. Would you ask her to become gay because she’s not following the norm of society? It wouldn’t be natural, now would it? Not to mention she’d be lying to herself, and that’s not healthy at all. It’s the same for gay people in today’s world. As for there being too much “writting” on my website, and not enough photographs: I have a page with photographs of myself on it called About*Me, reachable through the main page of this site. My writing, however, is the main part of the site; it was for my writing that I created the site in the first place. So, sorry, but having too much of it won’t change any time soon. And last but not least, thanks for noticing I like Bright Eyes. I was introduced to the band my first semester in college and “Bowl of Oranges” is my favourite of theirs, and one of the more-played songs in my collection. However, liking Bright Eyes has nothing to do with where I’m going after I die, although I’m sure a friend or two of mine would like to think so. I’m not a huge fan of theirs, but I have a close friend who is their number one fan… He’s got all of their CDs and annoys my roommate by playing their music too often for her enjoyment. But as for myself, I’m partial to the song mentioned above. Anyway, thanks for writing, and I welcome any further emails. Let me suggest, though, that you use a spellchecker next time you write one and you’re apparent intelligence level will skyrocket. Ahem, just a thought. Love, Eve.

Friday, 02 January 2004:

A New Year, a new way of writing the date on my Random*Thoughts. Actually, I’m thinking about revamping this whole site… Right now it takes soooo long to update since I write all my code by hand and from scratch, but I kind of don’t want to change the way I do things — even if it means I’ll be more efficient. Ah, the dilemma. Yes, so… it’s the New Year!! Happy New Years, everyone! I miss everyone from school, and I have to say, I’m about ready to go back. College changes you, people. If you think it won’t, you’ve got another thing coming. But since I’ve been back home, I’ve noticed a few things about myself. First, I’m more annoyed by people asking me things like, “What are you doing?”, “Where are you going?”, “Why are you taking that with you?”, and “Why do you have to do that?” than I remember being before I left. I mean, I don’t mind it if they don’t ask every time the opportunity comes up, but come on, you know? After about the fifth time I’m like, “MUST YOU KNOW EVERYTHING I’M THINKING?!?” It’s really frustrating. Second, I don’t mind doing things for my parents as much as I used to. Maybe that’s because I know I won’t have to indefinitely (as in, I know I’m going back to school and I won’t have to do anything for them then, so I don’t mind doing more now). Eh, who knows? Maybe I’ve just grown up more or something. Third, well, I can’t think of anything for a third thing, so whatever. My taste in music hasn’t altered (basically eclectic; not any one type for too long), I haven’t changed my mind about getting a tattoo (I want one), and my love hasn’t changed (I love beauty). As for updates to this site, I can’t really seriously change anything until I go back to school because that’s where (most) of my html files are. And they’re online, too, of course, or you wouldn’t be reading this right now! However, I have updated my info page (the link’s at the top of the main page and is called “About*Me” with some New Years pictures. Good stuff, good stuff, I know.

Viannah E. Duncan

Viannah E. Duncan is a writer and activist hailing originally from Los Angeles. She lives outside of Baltimore, Maryland, and holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Wilkes University. She has a cat, Cleo.

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