As crazy as Love ... As healing as Hope.

A double life ...

2005-08-31T18:48:00.000+10:00

Okay so I disappeared again for a ridiculous ammount of time ... sorry. Once upon a time I didn't like my life out there, so I coccooned myself in a little virtual world which made me feel safe and secure and warm and fuzzy: on my copious days off I would do nothing but sit in front of a screen and tune in to everyone elses' lives: leave messages, write emails of support, sit in wonderment mostly. Sadly my free days have diminished, so much so I don't even have a chance to use a computer for it's intended purpose (work) much anymore. It really is sad. And it doesn't mean that I like my life out there anymore than I used to, just means I have to deal with it a lot more often.

"Stop the ride, I want to get off!"

Passions...

2005-07-14T11:10:00.000+10:00

Theatre rules my life .... with an iron fist.
I don't know if anyone can truly understand unless they're a performer themselves, but the adrenaline rush is too much, even after all these years, to ever think of quitting or slowing down.
Even though I'm constantly chipping away at my Education degree, I still secretly hope that someday I'll manage to find myself a theatre job - acting, directing, writing, administration I don't care.
But because Theatre rules my life, everything else comes second place - family, friends, social life, relationships, school - it is unfortunate but it'sthe burden I willingly carry.
So friends and family get upset when I miss parties and birthdays and holidays, but I have no choice - I'm at the theatre.
I hand in assignments late because I happened to be rehearsing or teching all the week it was due, and I just can't help it.
I drive myself insane getting in the middle of dramas and gossip and rumours and fights happening at the theatre - and they're always so much worse when they're actors involved - I lose sleep and I worry and obsess ... and it's all because I love the theatre too much.

And when people tell me to quit, to save myself, I look at them as if they speak an alien tongue ... I can't quit - it's my life - it's my drug .... it's my reason to go on.

So pick your passions wisely.

2005-07-13T09:05:00.000+10:00

HELLO!!!

Sorry it's been so long!

Life out there got a little bit hectic and I had to take a little vacation from blog-land. Hope none of you missed me too terribly.

Today's my mother's birthday .... let's hope today goes better than Mother's day! She's just left for work so I'm going cross-city to her place to completely decorate it with baloons and streamers and other bright, happy, celebratory items, which she won't see until she comes home weary from work in the evening. I also called her early so the first thing she heard was a happy birthday from me.

Busy bee...

2005-05-24T22:15:00.000+10:00

I dare not say I bite off more than I can chew because that would just prove everybody right and me wrong ... but I'm just about as busy as I can get these days.

* I'm at uni (college) 9 - 5, monday - wednesday
* out on practical experience 8 - 3 thursday & friday
* rehearsing for "California Suite" sunday mornings, and some tuesday & thursday nites
* rehearsing "Cinderella" every sunday day, tuesday & thursday nite
* extra drama lessons friday afternoon & some thursdays
* work saturday mornings teachin acting
* cram in school work whenever I can
* and sleep on the rare moments I'm not busy.

I hate to say it, but I'm really looking forward to my holidays, when I can laze about the house during the day doing vey little, and perhaps even get some basic cleaning done - it'll be domestic bliss! I think I'm just a little burnt out.

Kimmy I've got my appendages crossed for Ash's exam!

For everyone else: stay safe, be well.

This belongs somewhere else....

2005-05-20T23:46:00.000+10:00

I wrote this entry tonight as a comment for another blog, but the comments section of that blog has temporarily been shut down so I wanted to paste it here for safe keeping until I can post it where belongs. Feel free to throw your own two cents in.

Okay just thought I'd throw my two cents in ... but first I want to make clear I'm no history or anthropology or theology expert, this is just information and speculation I've gathered along my travels into literature, and life in general ....

Historically it has been noted that some of the great ancient civilizations (Greek and Roman) which our modern societies were foundered upon, acknowledged and accepted homosexuality as an appropriate social custom, especially male homosexuality. Around 4 B.C. the poetess Sappho came to fame for her verses, some of which idolised female homosexual love. Throughout the Ages, through many of the European civilizations, homosexuality was practiced and accepted. Right up until the early 1900s there are examples of homosexuality in; literature, essays, plays, poetry. It is only really in the last century that it has become a taboo behaviour, and even this attitude - in most areas - is on the slow decline. The only real objections have come from the bible (and there is a great deal of debate as to the actual interpretation of it's wording) and those that follow its teachings in their religions.

Now this is no way meant to mock or belittle those that are religious or follow religious belief systems; for those that believe God coddemns homosexuality it is their spiritual and constitutional right to hold such beliefs. BUT sitting on the outside looking in here, should those that believe that their God sits in judgement against homosexuals, should not those people leave the judgement to God and learn to love their homosexual brothers and sisters the way Jesus commanded all people to love one another? "Love one another as I have loved you" (Luke 22:1-38; John 13).

Now I don't know the absolute truth to the question of how God judges homosexuality. I don't know if at the end of life, all homosexuals will be sent to heaven, hell or pergatory - that is the great mystery to life I guess, what happens at the end. But while I live out my years on this earth, I only wish that I could find happiness with the ease that my fellow heterosexuals can. The religious institution of marriage is a sacred spiritual ritual, I understand that and in no way do I wish to dishonour it. But the lawful ramification attached to the ceremony (lawful protection as a commited couple, benefits and recognitions by law and state, adoption privleges, antidiscrimination protection) all these things I think I've earnt the right to as a law-abiding, tax-paying, active member of society, religious or not. Whic is why I think the laws against same-sex civil ceremones should be repealed. Likewise, I happily accept that there are many people in the world with religious beliefs they associate with (Christians, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, so on), and I fully respect their right to hold their own beliefs and I do not criticise or belittle them for that. But again, I find it hurtful to be told by these people (this is not particularly pointed at anyone on this list but more a general comment on my own personal experiences) that I am "going to go to hell" for what I am. If I don't believe in their 'hell' why should they have the right to threaten me with it?

[This post does have a point (albeit rambling) I promise.]

But I made my peace with my choices long ago. What saddens me now is the number of people struggling hard to compromise the two polar opposites of their world, their homosexuality and their religion. I have no idea whether homosexuality is genetic or learned behaviour, whether there's a gender/sexuality continuum and everyone has a place somewhere between polar extremes, or whether people can change from one behaviour to another completely and permanently. I don't think anyone really has the answers. Stephen beleives he is a success story for the idea of 'transforming' from gay to straight, and that is his own personal beleif which I don't think any of us should dare attack or criticize. Then there are others struggling to change from 'gay' to 'straight'. Then there are those that after having been 'straight', 'come out' as gay. Both of these experiences must be devastatingly hard, mentally, physically, emotionally, socially and spiritually, and there is no doubt in my mind that some people cannot make the change completely whwther they themselves desire it or others desire it for them. And there are those lucky few who haven't had to struggle with the identity crisis because they were 'gay' or 'straight' all along.

Who we are is who we are, what we are is what we are; it may take us a long time to realise our own individual truths, but I think when we do, no matter what the outcome, that we should be free to live life as we choose - to follow our own paths to happiness: as long as we aren't consciously trying to hurt or harm others. There are 'ex-gay' support communities out there to help people struggling with their sexual identities, and I can only hope there might be a few 'ex-straight' support communities in existence too. I don't think we need to name-call or mud-sling, to threaten or condemn. Those that know their way should be left to follow it, and perhaps even supported in their differences by those with big enough hearts. And those that don't yet know their way shouldn't feel terrorized by their family, friends, communities, societies; they should be treated with love and understanding, supported until they can find their own truthes. And finding a truth is about going on a journey, sometimes that journey requires; experimentation, making mistakes, trying out options, and making choices based on circumstance.

Sorry there is so much to this, but it's a collection of thoughts I've had over the last couple of weeks that I have been reading entries and comments in this blog.

I hope everyone has a safe, positive, satisfying day. Peace.

Heart felt ....

2005-05-15T00:28:00.000+10:00

Amongst all the bitterness and cynicism that I have found myself enshrouded in lately, I made the surprising discovery tonight that I; do, indeed, possess a functional heart! Not in the anatomical sense of course, that discovery was made quite a few years ago in fact, but in the spiritual/metaphorical sense; I have an organ that generates feelings for the rest of mankind .... and this is after chanting my mantra for a good hour and a half: "I hate humans .... we're a sick fucking cosmic joke .... we've screwed the world up ... we suck .... I hate us." What spurred on this discovery you may well ask? A movie titled "Crash". I'm not even going to try to explain it, Heavens forbid I do it that disservice. Only enough to say it's one of those human ensemble dramas which is becoming more prevalent in mainstream cinema. It follows the thread of about 9 different lives as they intersect through day-to-day life in Los Angeles. And what it set out to do it did, and did well. Those that know me know that I don't emote easily, well I'm quick to anger and jump to the defence, but I'm much slower to sympathize and very rarely do I cry - either for myself or for others.... I cried tonight. This movie took me everywhere, I was sad and happy and scared and shocked and angry and guilty. And it did it so beautifully, I was engaged so thoroughly I felt I was right there with every single character. I walked out of that theatre with my friend having learnt something about myself, and physically feeling ill for every discrimination or automatic stereotype I had ever created. And by the end I had found that deep down I still have a little spark of hope left for humanity.

Giving out free hugs people, the walls are down for one night only .... "come and get 'em!"

Mother's Day....

2005-05-08T18:16:00.000+10:00

I spent all yesterday shopping for nice things to put into a hamper for a present for my mother. I didn't get home until just after midnight, and Mum walked in about half an hour later and in a bad mood. She quizzed me over what I'd spent my day doing and slung a few insults at me about losing weight, then went to bed. I sat up for another hour waiting for her to go to bed, and arranging her present and wrapping it just right. It consisted of:-
* a copy of her favourite magazine
* 2 DVDs ("Connie & Carla" and "Down with Love")
* a cute pair of bed socks with little pig faces
* another pair of house booties with piggy faces
* a wheat heat pack (because she's been getting neck aches)
* a box of toblerone (her favourite chocolates)
* vanilla body spray
* vanilla lip butter
* organic soaps
* and a four pack of gourmet chocolate sauces
All in a wicker basket wrapped in red cellophane and covers in beautiful butterfly stickers (butterflies are her favourite animal) ... When I was finished I snuck into her room to leave at the foot of her bed. She woke up but said she'd look at in the morning. When she did wake up this morning and checked out the present she came in and I got a 'thank you' and a kiss, and a "I didn't like 'Down with Love' it wasn't a very good movie. Take it back and change it for something else?". Now I'm not looking for a huge reaction, but a little more gratitude would have been nice. Especially because my lazy brother didn't lift a finger to help and Mum would have known that. *sigh* And to top it all off, not an hour after she'd gotten her gift, we got ito a huge fight because she went out and forgot that she'd promised me a lift to the theatre, and then abused me for getting angry when she finally answered her phone and remembered what she'd promised. No apology only a fight over me being ungrateful.

Next year it's a card and a box of chocolates.

The first ....

2005-05-04T14:31:00.000+10:00

Inspired by Rosie's latest entry I went through some old journals to find the account of the first time I enamoured by a woman ... (forgive me, I was only 18 and not quite as eloquent then as I am now.)

She stood no more than 5 feet and one inch, in front of 30 grade ten girls - giggling, excited on their first day back after a long summer break. She was one of the new teachers - not as nervous as the others - she seemed calm and confident, and soon all the girls thought it wise to be quiet. Short, straight, golden blonde hair framed her small face; deep blue eyes hid behind fashionable tortiseshell-framed glasses. Dressed, as the girls would come to expect throughout the year, with a scarf around her neck and a trendy citrus coloured short linen dress where the line of her g-string could plainly be seen. Her name was Annette - intelligent, kind, witty, beautiful, and shy. She was 23, just out of university, a maths and science teacher who had returned to the high school she had once attended; now she was the teacher. A school where only girls, fresh-faced catholic girls, spent their days in uniforms of green and white, perched above the beautiful river; they dreamed of one day finding freedom from this place, but Annette had found her freedom and returned.

Each and every class was a blur of thereoms and equations and geometry and statistics .... a blur mostly because I was intoxicated with her. From the first day of class I was hidden away in the furtherest corner of the classroom by the wall where she couldn't see only assume my prescence - my best friend right by my side, we two were partners in procrastination crimes. I miss those days, where Kate would work feverantly on her millions of ideas; stories, plays, poetry, philosophy and most importantly her cartoons, while I would sit quietly, meaning well and trying to work but always giving in to tempation. The sideways glances when she would come close, the covered stares as she would turn away or bend to answer another student's question - I was completely torn, trying not to be noticed but constantly desiring her attention. I was 14, and it was the first time I could look and my reflection in the mirror and say the word lesbian without flinching. New feelings had surfaced which filled me with great joy and shame; my new-found discovery was on the tip of my tongue, but for fear of ridicule I could never let anyone around me know. And so I sat quietly each day. I watched the way she moved and spoke. I found new and different ways to speak to her all the time. I even discovered we had a mutual friend, an actor named Emily who I was working with at the time, and who had gone to high school with Annette (the very same school we now both found ourselves in). No matter my feelings and desires, I was content just to be in her presence - me and my little secret.

My work failed miserably that year, a distraction someone suggested; I laughed inwardly - fits of hysterical, tearful laughter - if only they knew. She left for another school the next year. I was sorry to see her go. A year passed, and another, then I graduated; the burden was still not lifted from my shoulders ... I left Australia for a year: thought time away would do me good, let me sort my feelings out and perhaps find someone to fill the void - away from the accusing eyes of the familiar back home. Unfortunatel my time away was not what I had hoped for: I found close-minded people many times more prejudicial and hateful of those who were different (my poor young mind could not comprehend leaving the homophobia of Australia just to encounter the homophobia of Canada).... for another year I kept my mouth shut. December of 2000 came, and with it was my return to my homeland... finally the secrets were revealed ....

First I visited my best friend, and in an awkward way I spilled my not-so-eloquent story: with that relief, and her promise of support, I have started slowly but surely to let those I know and love and respect, find the true side of myself that they deserve to see. It's a long journey I have ahead of me; sometimes I miss those 14 year-old days when my feelings were my little secret and everyone could look at me without knowing, without realising who and what was in their midst ..... but my journey won't finish until I never feel the need to lie again. When I don't fear the rejection I may face when those I know 'find out' .... I hope it will happen some day.

So I wrote that 5 years ago ... in the time between then and now I have 'come out' to my friends and immediate family; no easy feat. There have been women come in and out of my life who have taught me so much about; love, loss, romance, pain, partnership, and even the ever confusing issue of sex and all it entails! I'm currently single, giving myself time to heal over the last hurt. Feeling good to be back in my own skin again and taking time for myself; I swear I'm too burnt-out to be a good girlfriend. But looking back it's been a long 9 years, from discovery to admittance, through the experimentation, to the blissful, peaceful acceptance I surround myself with now.

"If we are incapable of finding peace in ourselves, it is pointless to search elsewhere."
François de la Rochefoucauld

Peace, joy, happiness, safety and love to you all ....

Only May ...???

2005-05-04T12:47:00.000+10:00

Is it just me or are the hours, the days, the months slipping by so fast and yet so slow?
It's only May but it feels like a year's past already, everything's so hectic so fast paced.
I don't know what I'd do with out my day planner, it holds the last strands of control over my life, without it I wouldn't know where I was going, what I was doing or where all my life disappears to.

example: the next 2 weeks I either have classes, prac, rehearsals for 2 different shows, work, or meetings with people every single day.
I'm not complaining, I love my life, I just wonder where the time disappears to when I'm not looking!

It's a cryptic morning ....

2005-04-27T13:08:00.000+10:00

"temporary reclusivity" (yes I know I just made it up) - the mindset which I find myself desperately searching for.

Ever get that overwhelming sensation where everything's just too much?
I guess most of it's fear, and doubt.
Just a little scared of the transitions.
Getting far too comfortable n my well-worn little ruts.
I know what I don't want to be, it's the details of what I do want that seem to allude me.

I didn't go to college today, just didn't feel up to it.
Have assessment due today that isn't done; had thought about pulling an all-nighter to finish it but sleep was more important - that's a change in attitude once upon a time a night's worth of sleep was little price to pay to finish assessment.
And today, well I should have been working away finishing that piece of assessment... but I wasn't.
It's a beautiful grey day, the sky is swollen with rain, the breeze has a light chill to it, there's the occassional chirp of a bird but other wise silence.
It's just beautiful.
I am happy, I know that, I can feel it ...
Can one be momentarily 'halted'?

Time to 'get a real job' ...

2005-04-22T18:23:00.000+10:00

I've spent the last 4 years studying for my education degree.
Now with a little more than 18 months left, I'm starting to realise exactly what my life will entail the moment I get that expensive piece of paper.
I will be educating peoples' children; their young minds, their fledgling futures are under my control.

I'm starting to get scared.

It's not that I don't think I can do it; I've been involved with drama and acting for almost 14 years. I just worry that wth all these kids relying on me, all the expectations of their parents, and all the problems they face in this world today, that I'm not going to be good enough to guide them through.

I've been out prac teaching for the last two weeks ... commitee meetings, staff meetings, lesson plans, behaviour management, teaching strategies, learning experiences: I live, breathe, eat, sleep, dream education!

It's times like these I wish I could be a career student - at least that's safe.

Her wish ....

2005-04-19T10:04:00.000+10:00

After the last post, I spent some time thinking about my adoption. I have to be honest, my life has been so busy recently that I've had litle chance to consciously think about. I dug around in the 'files' (a couple of bags filled with pictures and drawings and school reports and important documents that my mother keeps at the top of her cupboard) and found my mother of pearl rosary beads and the letter that went with them .... she wrote:

"To the Adoptive Parents.
Would you please give these Rosary beads to Angela Marie as a gift from me. And explain to her that I gave her up for adoption because I love her and want the best for her. When I held her in my arms it was the hardest decision of my life to give her up. But I know I made the right decision, and I'm sure she is going to a good home and that you will love her and give her more than I ever could.
yours sincerely.
Tricia"

And here I am sitting alone crying again .... because she gave me the greatest gift she could .... and my parents returned the gift by raisng me the best they knew how to honour her wish.

I am indeed a lucky girl. One with two mothers, and two names.

A child is like an island ....

2005-04-18T13:16:00.000+10:00

I'm an adopted child.
I don't know how many people understand that situation, I'm sure there are many.
I was adopted at 6 weeks from another city, same state.
Have got some partial medical records, which is enough to get me curious but not enough to satiate the cat in me.
There was also a set of mother of pearl rosary beads and a letter left in my file from my birth mother which said that she wanted me to have a good life.

That was 23 years ago. For 23 years I've been blessed with two mothers:
one who gave me life, gave me my traits, formed the being I am;
and another who shaped that being, gave her rules and morals, opportunities and choices; love and commitment.
Both are important to me, because without either I wouldn't be who/what I am today ... the only difference between the two is that one I know and one I don't.

I left this in a person's diary as part of a comment I left:

"As for my mother, it's a tough situation. I do love her, she's been the only maternal influence I've ever had. But I am adopted, and have always known it. I'm getting to the point where I want to find my biological family - mother, possible siblings, it is important to me. But as I've found through conversations with my mother, this makes her very uneasy; I guess to her it must feel like a betrayal. I'll always be her daughter, and she'll always be my mother, but the way I see it; the blood in my veins, my features, parts of my personality, they come from someone else, and I'd like to know them as well."

Life is a difficult hand to play, no matter what cards your dealt: there are so many unknown elements, people can be unpredictable too.
I just feel a bit torn.

Breath ... Life

2005-04-15T20:30:00.000+10:00

Sometimes the world gets too much. Doesn't matter whether you're rich or poor, a victim or a fighter ..... there's cracks in everyone's armour. And when my heart starts to beat faster and my brain's fit to explode, I finally remember to - just - breathe.

And that one breath is all the difference ... that one breath reminds me that I am one person, and I can't do it all. I can be true to myself, a good friend, a kind person, a warm soul. But I can't be everything to everyone. I just have to remember I can't shoulder all the blame; I'm no superhero.

And that breath, it reminds me .... because every lifetime is made of years that are made up of months that are made up of days that are made up of hours that are made up of minutes that are made up of seconds, that start with - just - one - breath.

And in one breath my life turns from an unliveable nightmare, to the start of an adventure ... right before my eyes.

Why I love my friends....

2005-04-05T05:13:00.000+10:00

I guess like most people who identify as 'queer' I get the gamut of responses when I tell people (or even worse, when they find out for themselves). It's funny, in a sad and pathetic sort of way, but most of the time peoples' responses have very little to do with me as an actual person and more to do with their knowledge and beliefs on the 'gay' lifestyle. I'd like to think I'm a nice person, I'm; friendly, charming, honest, I try to be funny, go out of my way to help people, am tolerant and respectful of others. And yet once my being gay becomes a factor people who have known me for a long time can suddenly dissociate from me, and people who hardly know me are suddenly all interested. It's very odd. Luckily I haven't been at the most negative end of the spectrum where I've been assaulted, beaten or raped because of my sexual preference; but I live in constant fear that that may one day happen, which is really a sad reflection of our times. I identified as gay while I was still quite young, so it's never been a big issue for me personally, but at the same time I don't go shouting it from the roof tops either. I don't particularly 'dress' or 'act' gay (if you beleive in identifiers like that) so perhaps I still have the ability to shock people, but at the same time I don't hide my preference - I am 'out' for all intents and purposes, and I do consider myself 'proud'.

So where is this all heading you may ask .... well, after I'd spent the better part of an afternoon sharing pancakes and ice-cream with one of my beautiful friends helping her wallow in self pity because of a fight with her boyfriend, she turned to me and said: "I wish you were a guy, or that I was a lesbian coz I love you, you're wonderful." I laughed and handed her another spoonful of ice-cream, but I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. She paid me a huge compliment which was nice, but she also validated my choice in the same breath. I would never want to be a guy, am quite happy in the body/gender I have (except for about 4 cramp-filled days out of the month), but the fact that she wished me male or her lesbian was really sweet - even if it was a joke. I love my friends, because they care as much for me as I do for them.

2005-03-27T14:58:00.000+10:00

me as the "Shrew"

genesis

2005-03-27T08:14:00.000+10:00

words some times look alien - strange.
So familiar they are used every day and yet at any moment they can become foreign and frightening.
I stared at the screen, stared at the word 'sweet' and it didn't look right ... a word I've known since I was a child, a word I've used often enough that it should never cause a problem for my lexicon, ever .... but it did.
That's when it hit me.
We are so mighty, yet so frail.
The human race is full of symbols and imagined powers ... but it's all just an act.
If I can't remember the words then I can't communicate. If I can't communicate then my voice is silenced. If I'm silenced then the creativity inside me has no escape. If my creativity has no escape then I am worthless to you and spiteful to myself.

But it's all okay .... for now.
I remember how to spell 'sweet' - it was hiding in my brain all along, I just had a momentary lapse in humanity, that's all.
So now I introduce myself to this world. I hold no expectations - that would be foolish.
I only hope to contribute, and to make connections to you - whoever you are - that I have reached through a screen.