phoenix............on fire

atheistmas

2010-12-24T01:49:00.000-08:00

It has been a long time since I posted here. I've been a little busy.
In the past eleven months I:

*Completely swore off relationships and decided I was going to be slutty and single forever

*Finished my teaching certification

*Fell in love(Yes, seriously)

*Had a massive full body infection that almost killed me and caused me to gain 30+ pounds in four months

*Started writing again

*Discovered my uterus was harboring about ten pounds of fibroids and polyps

*Got a sweet raise at my job

*Started substitute teaching

*Started a garden but was unable to keep it up due to illness

*Paid off one of my credit cards---only two more left!

*Got a gym membership and discovered exercise isn't as bad as I thought it would be

*Had uterine surgery
(No more periods, ever!)

*Got engaged to a woman I love very much

Its been a busy few months.
Hopefully the next few will be calmer and I can get back to blogging regularly.

one year

2010-02-10T00:49:00.001-08:00

Today is one year since the assault.

One year ago today, I was miserable but unsure of how to change my life.
I was scared about my future but too depressed to do anything about it.
I was broke and wondering how I was going to pay my bills.
I was angry at myself and felt like I was worthless.

Over the past year I've learned that I really do have the power to change my life, and that I can do anything if I set my mind to it.
I've learned how to plan my future, and to go in the direction of my dreams.
I've learned a lot about what I truly need to make myself happy.
Best of all, I've started to remember the things I loved about myself.

Today I am in charge of my life.
I know where I want to go, and I know how I'm going to get there.
I have a savings account, and a well paying job that opens a lot of possibilities for me.
Once again, I love and appreciate my strength, my beauty, and everything that makes me who I am.

The assault was one of the worst things that ever happened to me, but it also forced me to examine my life and change it.

And for that I am, and will always be, grateful.

Tofu Soup

2009-11-18T01:26:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know I've been delinquent with the 'Wrimo blogging---I'll get to that in a minute.

But first I want to talk about soup. Tofu vegetable soup, to be exact. From China King.

I've been sick the past few days. Feeling crappy and tired and run down due to the addition of a second job at a bookstore(Yes, the discount is SWEET!) and a much more active social life than I've been accustomed to the past few months.

I've been thinking about this soup. It has huge chunks of tofu and its all garlicky and it comes with little fried noodles to sprinkle on top. Three dollars and fifty five cents of heaven.
I decided to pick some up on the way to work, reasoning that I wanted it and it would make me feel better.

I went in and placed my order. Soup and an order of rangoon(crab-free as I love the aminals).
Sat around for about ten minutes, then headed out to the car.
I was in the car starting to munch on the rangoon when it hit me: I could afford this soup.

You see, last year at this time I was in a pretty shitty place.
Working for an agency that jacked around my hours and treated me badly, broke, living paycheck to paycheck.
Feeling really crappy about my life, my future, myself.
Grasping at anything and anyone that would make me feel better about my life.

As one friend stated, "Your mouth is smiling but your eyes are sad".

I was so miserable I didn't even have the strength to identify what was going wrong with my life.

Things happened. I got assaulted and spent time in the hospital taking a long hard look at my life. I switched jobs. I started working on my teaching certificate.
I ended a friendship that had been causing me stress and that maybe wasn't the healthiest.
I started yoga, helped grow a garden.
I've made new friends, joined new groups, started stretching my boundaries.

I've learned to go places by myself again, without feeling the need to have someone there constantly.
I've done a lot of home maintenance work that I was scared to do before.
I've learned to express my wants and needs.

What does this have to do with soup?

I can afford it now. Not only can I afford to go out and buy Tofu Vegetable soup, I can afford to do it twice a month if I choose.
I can pay my bills and have a bit of money left over.
I can put a bit of money in savings and give money to organizations that I support.
I'm not rich or even on the middle class spectrum, but I'm doing better than I have been for a while.

My life has changed so much in a year that I can hardly believe it.

I look back at the girl I was a year ago, and the woman I am today almost doesn't recognize her.

My life has changed immensely.
I'd like to say it was all hard work or all luck, but the truth is that it was a combination of both.
And I'm stronger for it.

A year ago I couldn't buy soup without putting off paying my bills; today I can buy food whenever I need it.
A year ago I was scared of the world and of the future; today I am eagerly looking ahead to spreading my wings and flying.
A year ago I had lost my sense of self worth; today I look in the mirror and see a beautiful woman with a bright future.

Today my mouth is smiling...and so are my eyes.

And...here we go.

2009-10-29T00:09:00.002-07:00

After some deep thought last night, I've decided to go ahead with my plans for an alternate Nanowrimo.

This will either be(like most things I do) be the greatest or the dumbest idea ever.

I have two bowls, each filled with slips of paper.
One bowl has the genre or style of writing I will be doing that day.

The choices are:
Haiku
Essay
Short Story
Limerick
Poem
Ode
Erotic fiction

One of these will be picked at random every morning, along with a topic.

Topics:
cheese
gender
funnel cakes
family traditions
money
the moon cup
wine
coffee
carrots
The American flag
corsets
chocolate
red magnets
corsets
My Gloria
nail polish
books
love
polyamory
Rachel Maddow
cilantro
The concept of butch
Obama
tofu
meditation
paddling
yoga
hula hoops
sex
trees
bread
abortion
angel figurines
food fights
water
fuzzy socks
vermicomposting
Michfest(you know it has to be somewhere in there)
consumerism
letter writing
humanure

As you probably noticed, there are more than thirty possible topics. Some will get picked, many will not.

I'll be writing daily, but only posting on this blog during the week due to no Internet at home.

This should be interesting.

Nanowrimo?

2009-10-28T00:54:00.000-07:00

I just realized I had not blogged in quite some time.

Life has been...interesting. Got through a few really rough weeks and its been pretty smooth sailing since then.

Of course, smooth sailing bores the hell out of me.

I was thinking of maybe doing Nanowrimo again this year.
However. Last year I crashed and burned halfway through and spent three days staring at the wall muttering to myself.

I still want to challenge myself in some way, though. I was published in the 'Readers Write' section of The Sun last year and it made me happy to get some recognition for my writing.

I know I'm not a professional writer.
I know I'm not a great writer.
I'm not even a consistent writer.

But something about having a goal, a plan, a reason to write inspires me.

So this is what I'm thinking.

I'm going to write every day in November.

It doesn't have to be great.
It doesn't have to follow a plan or storyline.
I can write a poem one day, an essay the next.

I just have to write.

I may publish it here; I may not.
Lack of easily accessible internet at home makes it a little difficult to blog daily, but I can write on paper and post it.
Or not.

This isn't about having people read my work.
(I'm not sure if anyone even reads this blog)
This isn't about skill or getting published.

It is about pushing myself. I know I can do it, and I will.

It isn't as impressive as writing a novel in a month, but its better than sitting on my couch reading and playing on Facebook for a month.

House Mouse

2009-08-30T23:31:00.000-07:00

A Haiku:

I am very sad
My house has a little mouse
the cat won't kill it

So. There is a mouse in my house.
A baby mouse, but still a mouse.

We discovered it Saturday afternoon, while Anna and I were sitting on the couch discussing Life.
We heard a noise. We saw The Beast running after something.
I thought the cat was being silly. Anna immediately recognized what was happening.
I screamed and jumped up on the couch. Anna(the brave one)went to investigate.

She caught it. She held it in her mouth.
(I'm talking about The Beast. Anna isn't really the type to catch small animals in her mouth.)
She carried it around. She batted it around a while.

Then she LET IT GO. And didn't chase it.
It ran into the bedroom. I screamed even more hysterically.
Anna got the broom and went into the bedroom to try to capture it. It ran under the bed.
I jumped on top of the bed and screamed. Anna kept saying,"I can't catch it with you screaming in my ear!".
I calmed down. (Not really)

Anna cleared everything off the floor(sewing machine, fabric box) and using the broom managed to get the mouse back into the dining room.

Then she built a barrier around my door so that it couldn't get back into the bedroom.
(Now THAT is a good friend.)

The Beast caught it again. Carried it around a few minutes, then let it go.

Ten minutes later, she repeated the pattern.

After watching this several more times, Anna and I decided that either The Beast had no intention of killing it or the cat and the mouse were actually in a consensual S/M relationship and they were waiting for us to leave so that they could get to the good stuff.

We discussed ways to get rid of the mouse. I got hysterical again.

Anna offered to stay longer if I didn't feel as if I could handle being alone in the house with the mouse.

Being a mature woman of 31, I stated that I was sure I could handle it.

She left, and I immediately left as well.
Went to walgreens and bought some supersonic pest repellers!(TM)

Anna swore up and down they would make the mouse go away.
I plugged them in. I went to meet a new girl for a drink.
Came home drunk(somewhat embarrassingly so) and immediately passed out.

When I woke up this morning, I assumed that the supersonic pest repellers!(TM) would have caused the mouse to magically disappear overnight.

Not so.

It ran across the kitchen while I was making scrambled tofu.

I screamed and ran.
(Thankfully I had the foresight to wear thigh high wool socks with my sexy nightgown in the event that a mouse would still be in the house)

I ran back into the bedroom, frantically got dressed, and went to meet my housesittees for lunch.

And haven't been back since.

Thank goodness I'm housesitting this week....hopefully the mouse will be gone by Friday when I go back home.

cutting through the wire

2009-08-27T23:52:00.000-07:00

Several months ago, a good friend and I were talking about relationships, both romantic and platonic.
She said to me, "Phoenix, after you left Kristie you covered your heart with steel wool, duck taped over it, and surrounded it all with barbed wire. You protect your heart very well by not letting anyone in....but you don't let anyone in."

I've been thinking about her words a lot the past few months. I think she's right.

I've always prided myself on being tough. Strong and unemotional.
(I'm a farm kid. Thats how we operate.)

After I left Kristie I didn't cry for almost three years. Couldn't cry if I tried.
Finally, a friend helped me cry again and I spent the next six months crying and letting it all out.

And I've spent the last four months thinking about what my friend said to me.

About how it makes me nervous when my friends cry.
About how scared I am to ask for help when I need it because I'm afraid of being vulnerable.
About the women I've dated, and how I bail out when things have the possibility of getting serious.

At Fest this year I felt very open. I shared things and emotions with people that I would normally keep tucked away inside.

It felt good. It felt really good, actually.

One of my festie friends remarked that she always felt so good about herself at Fest, and I responded that the reason Fest was so great was that we weren't afraid to show our authentic selves there.

And then I realized that while I show many parts of myself outside of Fest, I only show my emotions while on The Land.

I think its time for that to change.

I've cut through the wire, and I'm slowly unwrapping the duck tape as I type.

So if you get a card or letter or an email in the next few weeks telling you exactly how much you mean to me, don't be surprised.

One Week In

2009-08-25T00:47:00.000-07:00

I'm one week into the vegan cleanse and I feel amazing!!

I have so much energy.
I'm sleeping better.
My eyes and skin look clearer.
My allergy issues have basically disappeared.

I just feel good all around.

I cannot believe I waited so long for this.

Mmmmm...tofu

2009-08-17T04:34:00.000-07:00

Soooo...... I went on my little Dairy-Until-I-Hurt eating binge this weekend.
Ice cream, fudge pie, pizza, cheese cubes, ice cream cake, bicuits with milk gravy, more cheese cubes....

Needless to say, I didn't feel very good by the time I made it to yoga Sunday afternoon.

However. For the first time in a long time(like since birth) I have no urge to see or consume dairy in any form.

The thought of cheese makes me nauseous.
The thought of ice cream makes me cringe.
Milk in general looks like sludge to me. Chalky, pasty sludge.

This is probably a good thing.

Vegan-Licious

2009-08-14T01:22:00.001-07:00

So as many of you know, I've been a full vegetarian for about a year, and a pescetarian for about two years before that.

However.
I recently started having what one might euphemistically call 'issues' with dairy foods.
Not just the usual pain and bloating associated with lactose intolerance, but also chest and back pain.

Please let it be known that I love the cheese. Its pretty much the reason I wake up some days, especially if I have a wedge of that brie with mushrooms in the fridge.
(I love that brie so much I've eaten it before even when i knew it was probably bad. Yes, its that good.)

However. At some point(much later than I'd like to admit) I decided that enough was enough and that I needed to cut back on the dairy.
So I went out and bought some vegan cheese.

It looked good on the shelf.

It looked good in the wrapper.

It looked good sitting in my fridge, this faux 'cheez' that was designed to save me from a life without bean and cheese burritos and cheese sammiches.

It looked good nestled against the eggs and salsa and tucked nicely into a tortilla.

However. It tasted like nothing I've ever had before. And not in a good way.

Thankfully, I was able to stop myself from vomiting on the front porch and instead managed to spit it out and simply gag a few times.

I put the remnants of it back on the plate and left it on the porch for the squirrels.

After some intense discussion with a friend who also had dairy 'issues', i decided to go cheese free for the three weeks before Fest.

Week one was rough. I'm accustomed to using the cheese as both a flavor enhancer and an effective source of protein, so it was a real shock for me.
I was terrified i wouldn't get enough protein, so I meticulously wrote down everything I ate.
I couldn't figure out how to make most of my recipes without cheese, so I ended up having to try new recipes I'd long since relegated to the I'll-try-it-on-a-rainy-day-if-I-have-nothing-better-to-do section of my recipe book.

Week two was better. I had figured out that I wasn't going to wither up and die of protein deprivation so I was able to make it several days on grains and veggies and fruit alone.

However. Week three I discovered I felt great. My aches and pains were gone, my skin was clearer, and I no longer had any stomach issues.

I left for fest. I bought a bunch of Lactaid as insurance, knowing that many of the fest meals had cheese. I figured that a small amount wouldn't hurt, especially if I popped a Lactaid beforehand.

I had already decided I was going to skip the cheese tasting---I like a bit of pain but I knew even if I was armed with mountains of Lactaid I wasn't able to take on the temptation of having piles of cheese laid out before me.
The first three days, I got the dairy free option at the meals.

Nutloaf was, surprisingly enough, even better without the cheese.
Chickpea feta salad was just as delicious without the feta.
Even the Waldorf Salad was better without the blue cheese.

Then came Morrocan stew night.
I've long hated the Morrocan stew for a variety of reasons, the main one being that it was served with a kale dish that lured me in every year with its promise of sesame seeds, then caused me to gag upon the first bite that reminded me of exactly the reasons I hated kale.
Also served with Morrocan stew was Banana Yogurt Raita, which I considered to be the only somewhat palatable part of the meal.
Maxine Dangerous refers to this meal as the trifecta of evil, and after my Banana Yogurt Raita experience this year I'm inclined to agree. But I digress.

However. I was hungry and didn't want to walk back to my tent just to have plain granola.
So I had the Morrocan stew. It wasn't as bad as I had remembered. Salt helped.
I had two bites of kale. Still pretty wretched, but I figured it wouldn't kill me.

Then I popped a Lactaid(I feel about 80 years old typing that phrase, btw) and ate a few spoonfuls of the delectable banana yogurt raita.
Then I went to have a cigarette with Trixie.

I was halfway through the cigarette when it hit.
I've never run to the Janes so quickly in my life. I'm pretty sure I broke some records for speed.

After this debacle(still a little shaky and sore), I ran into an acquaintance who also had dairy 'issues'(and was ironically enough, responsible for the cheese tasting that had been haunting my dairy fantasies for the past week).
She very slowly explained to me, much as one would explain to the village idiot, that my days of dairy were over. Told me that if the pain started within ten minutes, it was a dairy allergy and not lactose intolerance, and that no amount of Lactaid would cure it.

I cried a little.
I wrote in my journal.
I cursed the bodily defect that renders me unable to enjoy the dairy like everyone else in the world seems to be doing.
I vowed to try another brand of the vegan cheese.

I went without cheese the rest of the week.

I arrived at home. I went on the front porch.
The remnants of the vegan cheese were still there. The squirrels had meticulously picked away the bits of tortilla and eaten them, leaving only the vegan cheese behind.

I figured if the squirrels were afraid of it, it was a clear cut sign that I shouldn't even attempt it again.

So I went through my pantry. Got rid of anything containing dairy.
Requested a copy of Veganomicon at the library and went through all of my cookbooks to find quick and easy recipes that I could make.

Tomorrow night I'm going to a slumber party, where I will have my last hurrah wth dairy in the form of pizza.
Monday I'm starting an experimental six weeks of veganism.
If all goes well, it will probably end up being a permanent change in my life.

Wish me luck.

overwhelmed

2009-08-10T21:46:00.001-07:00

I just got back from fest a few hours ago.

I haven't quite absorbed everything but i will say that it was the best fest i've ever had.

Instead I'm going to talk about what i've been doing the past few hours.

I drove. A lot.
Finally got home. Hugged and kissed the cat profusely because during Fest there was a miscommunication and I spent an entire night thinking she was dead.
(I'm reallyreallyreallyreally glad she isn't.)

Took a shower. Tried to clean the dirt off my feet and failed.

Cleaned the ring of dirt around my neck and got grossed out when i realized that a woman was biting that same dirty neck(Its inevitable at fest. The dirty neck. Not the biting.) a few nights ago.

Got dressed for work and petted the kitteh some more.

Then I looked out of my living room window at the street.
Walked out to the porch and surveyed the street.
Walked outside my apartment, locked the door and checked to make sure it was locked.
Walked downstairs, opened the building door and surveyed the street again.
Walked to my car and locked the door behind me.

And then i realized that less than 24 hours before i had been walking down the streets at Fest in a slightly altered state wearing nothing but ruffly butt panties and a bra.

And that i had been and felt completely safe doing so.

And now I'm back to feeling unsafe in the world.
Sigh.

Its that time.

2009-08-01T00:51:00.001-07:00

I leave for Fest in five hours.
I'm so excited I can barely sit still long enough to write this blog post....

Last year's fest was rough, to put it mildly. Lots of drama caused by other people, lots of sadness caused by several festies getting injured on the way there, lots of sitting around crying and smoking until my lungs hurt.
The fest energy was off, and it affected all of us.

Nobody had a good fest last year. Nobody. If they say they did, they're lying or crazy.

When we pulled out of the parking lot last year, I looked behind me and thought, "Well, this is it. I am NEVER coming back".

Then I started talking to other festies and realized I wasn't the only one who had a bad Fest.

We were all collectively miserable.

And I started thinking about my approach to fest, and how it changes my time there.

My virgin year I didn't know what to expect, and everything was so fresh and new and it overwhelmed me. I ended up in The Womb(forgot to drink enough water) and vowed that I would come back every year afterwards.

My second year I came with the hopes of meeting some fantastic women, and I did.

My third year was my best year ever. I went with no expectations other than having a good time. And I did.

Last year I didn't know what to expect.
I anticipated drama from a disgruntled and insecure Festie, and I got it.
I expected to figure out where my life was going(I had just quit a horrendous job) and I did after a lot of crying, talking, and stress.

This year I'm trying the nothing approach.
No expectations, no hopes, no dreams.
Just going to go and enjoy the ride.

My plan this year is that I have no plan.

I'll let you know how it works out.

Testing, testing....

2009-07-09T02:09:00.000-07:00

I scheduled my tests for my teaching certification.
If I pass(which I assume I will, obviously) I will be a full fledged teacher by December of this year.

I intend to be a teacher by December, and to have a teaching job by next fall.
(The above is an intention I set the other night; I repeat it daily.)

Its kind of weird to take a 'test' to teach; I taught for quite some time without a license or certificate of any kind.

Its also kind of weird to be a 'student' again.

I hated school when I was a kid. Hated college when I was a young adult.

I got bored. Bored with teachers and professors who just wanted me to repeat their words back to them, bored with other students who seemed to take forever to grasp simple concepts.
I skipped classes. Refused to study. Never turned in homework.

Somehow, I still passed.

Its a little bit different with this. I can't bullshit my way into good grades and can't turn in special projects to bring my grade up at the end of the semester.
Just a lot of memorization and regurgitation.

It bores the hell out of me. But I'm doing it anyways, because it means I can go back to teaching.

And then I'll be the one giving the tests.

Tomatoes in the morning

2009-07-07T21:18:00.000-07:00

So this summer I've been co-gardening with a good friend of mine.
She did all of the early summer work with the knowledge that I would be taking care of the garden through most of July and August when she was out of town.

The other day I was coming home from my morning walk and when i checked on our little plots, I realized that TWO of the tomatoes had turned red overnight!
They've been green for what seemed like forever, so this bright blush of color was unexpected and exhilarating.

I took a picture with my fancy new phone and emailed it to her.
She emailed back and informed me that the tomatoes on her porch had also turned red overnight so that i should pick these and use them.

I picked them.
I walked home, cradling them in my arms.
I sat on the porch and looked at them for a while. And thought about how a ten cent package of seed, plus hours of labor, had yielded this triumphant moment.

WE GREW TOMATOES!!!

I went inside and started the percolator, listening to the coffee drip.
I toasted an english muffin and spread it with cream cheese.
I took out my favorite knife and sliced a thick slice of fresh warm tomato.
I cooked an egg over medium.
I slid the egg and the tomato onto the english muffin, poured myself a cup of coffee, and took it all outside.

I sat down, took a sip, then a bite.
And found bliss.

And thought about the meaning of life, and how the greatest pleasures I've found have always been the simplest ones.

Sitting on my porch laughing with friends. Walking through the park and watching the squirrels chase each other up the trees. Eating bread fresh out of the oven.

And I thought about how lucky I am to have all of these things in my life.

29 DAYS UNTIL FEST!!!

2009-07-04T02:30:00.000-07:00

Thats all.

29 long long l-o-n-g days..........

So much to do, so many outfits to plan, so much packing and re-packing.

29 days.

I lost my pants.

2009-07-04T01:44:00.000-07:00

I lost my pants. My favorite black pants.
They fitted tight around my booty, and flared slightly past my thighs. Cuffed at the bottom.

I have no fucking idea what happened to them.
No idea.

I've searched my apartment over and over.
Called everyone whose home I frequent to ask if I had, by chance, left them there.
(Then realized that I go OVER to people's houses without pants on, not LEAVE people's houses without pants on. I am a lady, after all.)

The only explanation is that they blew away when I was drying them on the front porch.
I do this frequently. Dryers wreak havoc on clothes, especially ninety dollar dress pants.

So they're gone.

The pants I wore weekly when I was teaching.
The pants i put away for my little foray into the super-fun-and-informal- job-where-I-didn't-have-to-dress-up(that ruined about eight months of my life).
The pants I brought out, dusted off, and started wearing again when I found a job that actually paid a living wage.
The pants whose cuffs I fixed with superglue not two weeks ago.

Gone.

Last week I returned some clothing to a dear friend who informed me, "Oh, wow, I've been looking for this! I have four pieces of cloothing I just haven't been able to find."

At the time, I thought, "How does one lose clothing?"

Now I know.

Insight

2009-01-26T10:47:00.000-08:00

So.....after six months of hideous depression and crying and hating my life and being afraid that i was losing my mind, I realized something.

The issue was not the horrible winter weather.
The issue was not my lack of substantial income.
The issue was not my romantic/sex life, which had been confusing and difficult as of late.

The issue was that i hated my job.
Not my job in general, but the field that I was in.

I care about the disabled. I really do. And I love my clients.
I just don't want to spend the next twenty years of my life working with them.

And I started thinking about when I was happy. And I realized that happiest I've ever been was when i was teaching.
And then I thought that maybe I just liked it because I liked teaching sex ed.

Because, let's face it, getting paid to talk about sex all day is a pretty sweet gig.

And then I dug deeper into myself. And cried some more.
And I realized that I missed teaching.

And then I realized that my Aunt B was right---I belong in a classroom.

I always have.
I tutored and taught Sunday school(shocking, i know) when I was younger.
I worked at a summer camp, teaching kids about hygiene when I was older.
And every job I've ever enjoyed has involved educating others in some way.

I decided to go back and get my teaching certificate.
I've been working on it for the past month.
Its hard. Its scary.
I feel like I've gotten dumber over the years and I regret(but only slightly) the drugs and alcohol that have made me this way.

The odd thing is this: Almost everyone in my life has told me they were waiting for me to figure it out and get my certificate.

My former supervisor(whom I taught under) told me she always felt I should be a teacher and that she was praying I'd make the decision to go back to school and get my regular certification.

My parents(who would rather burn money than share it with their lesbian daughter) gave me $100 for tuition.

The Egg Whisperer(who pushed me into applying for my certificate) told me she always felt I was too smart to just be content taking care of others for a living.

My friend TLA told me that HER MOTHER(whom I've never even met) was happy that I had made the decision to get my certificate.

I've had several friends tell me they had hoped I'd eventually realize that teaching was my destiny.
And on and on......

Its amazing how others can sometimes see what we cannot.

stunned

2008-08-18T11:19:00.001-07:00

A week ago at this time I was driving home from Fest, my mind too full of everything that had happened to be able to write everything down and process it.

A week later, I'm still too overwhelmed to function normally.

I know i say this every year, but this truly was the best Fest I've ever had.

It was ....

Scary
Painful
Affirming
Hopeful
Loving
And too many more things to say.

I learned a lot about myself.

Decided not to judge myself and to ignore others who judge me.

Learned a lot about my motivations and how to not feel guilty about them.

Learned that I need to be more direct about my needs and wants.

Made some major life decisions.

So its a week later and I still have a lot to go through.

And things in the outside world have been crazy.

In the next four weeks I have to:
Find a new apartment
Start two new jobs.
Pack up everything I own and move.

Its going to be an interesting few weeks....

Duck Tape Tevas

2008-07-06T10:49:00.000-07:00

(I'm a girly girl.
A really girly girl.

So girly, in fact, that last year I chose to go to Fest with four pairs of shoes.
One pair of Tevas and three pairs of heels.

Note: The only time I generally wear heels during Fest is in the Femme Parade. But I needed three pairs. So that I could try on various heels with various outfits so that i could look my best as I was strutting down a dusty road.)

I figured things would go fine as per usual. Things at fest always work out, regardless of the circumstances.

But alas. The first day I was there my airbed died.
Apparently SOMEONE who lives in my apartment decided to go walking across it and dig her little nails into the airbed fabric.
The bed deflated as soon as it was inflated. The air came gushing out through little holes that were in the pattern of little kitty cat feet.
I resigned myself to the thought of sleeping on the ground all week.

Without a blanket of course, because who needs bedding when you have an airbed to sleep on?
I figured I'd suck it up. It could be worse.

Then my water bottle died. Not my plastic one, the big three gallon plastic monstrosity that I bought to keep water at my campsite.
I drink a lot of water. A LOT. So I figured that having a big container at my website would keep me from having the dehydration issues that plagued me my first year and kept me in The Womb for quite some time.
I decided I could live without the water container. I would just have to be extra careful to keep myself hydrated.

I was sad about these setbacks, but I figured it could always be worse.

Then my Tevas fell apart.
The sole completely separated from the rest of the shoes.

I was pissed.

They were less than a year old.

What was a girl to do?

I dug deep into the recesses of my mind to figure out a plan of action. As femme as I am, I couldn't spend the week walking around in heels.

Even I'm not that femme.

After ten minutes of profound thought, it hit me.

Duck Tape!

Surely on a piece of land containing several thousand lesbians, there would be a few people with duck tape.

I searched high and low. Nobody at my site had any. Then I walked down to Triangle, where they had ROLLS of the stuff.

They must have bought it in bulk.

I duck taped my Tevas back together.

It was ugly, of course, but functional. Kind of like a fanny pack.

I spent all damn week in those duck taped Tevas.

Walked everywhere in them.

And oddly enough, I got compliments on them.

Girls commented on them in the shuttle.

In workshops.

In the lunch line.

I was pretty pleased with my ingenuity.

After Fest, I came home and put them in the recesses of my closet.

Only brought them out to go to the SOA/WHINSEC protest in November.

A few months ago, I bought myself a pair of hemp sandals. Figured I would wear them to Fest.

This morning I dug out my hemp sandals.

(It's Fest packing time. Yes, I'm packing already.)

Dug out my New Balance Shoes.

(Picked out a few pairs of heels to take as well.)

Just in case my hemp sandals fell apart, I wanted to be prepared.

Then I brought out the Duck Tape Tevas.

Took off all of the old Duck tape.

Washed the old Fest dirt and sand off of them.

Dried them carefully.

And re-wrapped them back together.

With electrical tape.

They are going back to Fest this year.

As Electrical Tape Tevas.

at a crossroads(even though I hate that phrase)

2008-07-03T06:47:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks I have had an overwhelming feeling that a big change is coming my way.

Changing careers to better suit what I want out of life.
Moving to another state, or to another country.
Starting a new relationship. The big, dramatic kind of relationship.

Something big. Really, really big.

You see, every year I make a big life change right before and right after Fest.

Last year I got rid of the television and became a vegetarian.
They were good changes for me.

In the months since Fest 2007 I have come to realize that what I thought I wanted out of my life wasn't really what I wanted.

I've changed my perspective on a lot of things.

So now I'm waiting.
Trying to figure out which of these life changes it will be.
Trying to figure out where I'm going to go in the next year.
Trying to figure out if it is what I want.

As a side effect of this watching and waiting, time has slowed down for me.

I've spent more time enjoying each moment for what it is.
Breathing deeply.
Smiling widely.
Laughing until I can't breathe.

It's good stuff.

slacking

2008-07-02T08:25:00.000-07:00

I feel like a blog slacker.
I haven't been writing as frequently as I would like.

I've been doing 10 million other fun/exciting/important things that require a massive amount of energy and time.

It has been a fun few weeks.
The next few weeks are going to be a fun few weeks.

And then.....Fest!!!

So let me tell you about this thing you can plug into the wall......

2008-06-28T22:59:00.000-07:00

I've been delinquent with the blogging.
It has been a crazyfun few days.

The two most important things to know:

I was SUCH a lady when I went to visit The Egg Whisperer.
Seriously.
So ladylike I even kept my pearls, thigh highs, and heels on.......

I may not have worn much else.
But those three things stayed on.
Because I'm A Lady.

Said Whisperer(in addition to enjoying some hotsexydirty activities with me, which i will not discuss as I Am A Lady) gifted me with a lovely little piece of electronica known as the Hitachi Magic Wand.

Yes, THE Wand.
I had never used one before and I enjoyed it so throughly I apparently kicked The Whisperer in the head while it was being..... um, utilized.

Whoops.

So.
1). I am a very, very cheerful Phoenix right now.
2). My electric bill is going to be HUGE this month.

The Egg Whisperer

2008-06-10T13:48:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks have been insane.
Work drama, too little time for myself, crazy stuff happening every which way you can imagine.

But.
Let me tell you a story.

Last year at Fest I went a (very classy) event known as the kissing workshop.
In the line was a girl I had seen at Fest two years previous, but never really talked to.
She saw me and immediately switched places with another girl so she would be the first one I kissed.
Said she: I've been wanting to kiss you for a while.
Said I: Um, okay.

So we kissed. We kissed and she fell to the ground.
In a joking manner, of course. I'm husky, but not that husky.

Said she: You kissed me so good you made me fall to my knees.
Said I: Um, okay.

So she went and got a chair and she sat on it and I straddled her and we kissed some more.

We moved on down the line. I kissed some other girls. My pants fell off. (Another story for another day)

At the end of the workshop she came up to me and we kissed again.
Then I left to go to lunch(feta chickpea salad day!!!!) and I didn't see her again until the femme parade.

At the femme parade every year I carry a flogger. Not a big one, a baby one. And flog all of the girls who request a tap or ten.

I do all of this in a very ladylike manner, of course.
Because I Am A Lady.
But I digress.

After the femme parade she propositioned me.
Said she: I think I need to be flogged. Maybe you could come back to my tent and show me how you use that thing.
Said I: I'll flog you here but I'm not coming back to your tent. I'm A Lady and I NEVER hook up with anyone at fest.

(Stop laughing, Festies. Seriously. I AM A LADY!)

So we went our separate ways and didn't really see each other the rest of Fest.
A few weeks ago, I had a birthday/Fest party.
And this woman showed up who had read about it and wanted to hang with a few Festies.

I told EVERYONE my kissing workshop story.
Because I like to tell my stories over and over.

The next day I was sitting beside this woman and telling her how I had never hooked up with anyone at Fest and how i had never really met many woman who sparked my interest there.

Said she: I have a friend you might like to meet.
Said I: Um, okay.

So she went and got her laptop and started flipping through pictures.
Stopped on one and said, "This is the friend I was telling you about".

It was the woman from the kissing workshop.

Said I: Would you mind passing along my number to her?
Said she: Um, okay.

My number was passed, the woman called.

We've been talking like crazy.
We've talked so much that we both have run over the minutes on our phones and can now only talk after 7 PM.

She's amazing. Funny, smart, and hot.
I'm going to visit her in a few weeks.

Where I will proceed to do ONLY ladylike things.
Because I Am A Lady.

new stuff

2008-06-10T12:05:00.000-07:00

Soooo....I realized a few days ago that my blog name doesn't match my real name.
Those who know me from Fest know me as Phoenix.
And.....When I created this blog I typed it in as Pheonix.

There 'may' be a chance that I 'may' have lost a few brain cells in the past due to heavy consumption of alcohol and/or drugs.
Fortunately, those days are over and I have all(most) of my faculties with me at this point.

I also see the irony in all of this----I b*tch at people who spell my name as Pheonix and not Phoenix.
And now I am those people.

(If you can't tell the difference, please go back to grade school.)

So I decided to change my blog name to match my real name.

Yes, I am aware that Phoenix isn't my real name.
But its the name that my friends know me by.

So, this is the first post.

Stay tuned.....