Nouvelle Vague

My mother is painting the stairs

all black this time. At almost 1 am. in the morning.

After I rescued her from her room, in which she had locked herself. She left the doorknob on the outside of her room and shut it.


I don't know why she doesn't attach new knobs. She just carries this one ancient glass knob around and uses it as she pleases. 

And she has locked the kitties upstairs. She came into my room, grabbed a shoebox off the floor (I just got new boots in from ebay) and filled it with litter. Then locked the door and started painting. I"m up here with the kitties.

My mom is...different. I guess I get it from my momma. heh.

Also..is sleeping with paint fumes ok? I'm not sure...

Thirsty.

I'm really thirsty. Why am I blogging about it? I'm too lazy to go to the kitchen :D

I'm working on a lil present for a friend..a children's story. The older I get, the more I appreciate genuine people.I finished most of it but I'm stuck a bit at the beginning of the end. I'm also trying to decide how I want to do the writing on the pages.

I ordered a green acoustic guitar. I'm going to teach myself to play. Its ridiculous I haven't learned yet, when I'm obsessed with folk music.Besides, if I'm playing guitar, people have to listen to me sing :D I've never tried to write song lyrics, only poetry. I wonder what kind of songs I will create. What the words will say. What I will feel. That's a ways away, first I have to learn the basics, but I'm looking forward to that.

Tomorrow a lock smith will come.  I'll finally get the key to the trunk, which will allow me to change the light that is broken, which will allow me to get a new inspection sticker, which will allow me to get new insurance, which will allow me to chill the fuck out when I drive. I'm soooo nervous about getting pulled over by a copper right now because he can ticket me for so many things..I don't even know if my insurance is still valid.the paper is locked in the glove compartment. Same key as the trunk.

I wish I had a good girlfriend here in New Orleans. Its really sad and I really miss Dilek. I would say Teri but she turned out to be a narcissist. If Dilek was here I'd be so happy about it. Even a new girlfriend would be acceptable. The problem is most people are stupid. They are either self important or stupid. I want a genuine person to be my girl friend. So hard to find :( I do love my sisters. We are just very different. Marion and I have been closer since she became an adult, and Christine and I have been less close since she became an "adult". I put it in quotes b/c I don't think she really is, but whatever, she has a kid so I'm supposed to call her an adult. I don't think smoking pot and letting your kid watch cartoons all day is being an adult, but whatever. What do I know.

I was looking forward to Marion moving in with us, but now that my parents aren't losing the house, that may not happen. I'd like to move out. Mom drives me nuts, really. Neither she or Mr. B will do the dishes. I'm like the dishes slave. If I don't do them, they don't get done. Its so weird. Look, no one likes to do the dishes. Doing the dishes is the worst thing ever. But I shouldn't be the only one to do them. Yes its her house, and I live here, but I pay bills here also. If you go in the kitchen right now, its not pretty. And I know she's just going to get an attitude with me about it. Eh why am I complaining lol. I'm lucky to have a home to do dishes in. Silly Jen.

BTW, since this blog began, I have finished drinking a glass of water.  But not the ice.

I want Theron to live with me and Matt. I want Matt, theron and Me to live together. In a big wooden house, on land where I can grow a garden. And go fishing nearby. I don't care if I never catch anything, but I want to sit with the pole and a few beers on a dock or under a tree with a blanket and talk to the men I love. I want a dog. A big, kind, lovable dog, that is so happy and comfy in our home. I want people to feel welcome in our house, but only genuine people. I don't want any bad energy there. I want to sit there, and have a library, and big comfy chairs,and maybe a fireplace with burning logs, and we can open books and read the best lines in them. Matt will make fun of everything and be much smarter than Theron and I, and Theron will be silly and I'll laugh at them and be emotional and tell them how much I love them. My family. I choose my family. This is the one I choose. Matt and I will make Theron watch project runway.  He'll complain that it is gay. Then he'll go in his room and play with his action figures












Tomorrow is David Gray. My dad's favorite. Matt and I are going. 



 

A small excerpt from the writing of Elizabeth 1

"I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate,
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned."

 I absolutely adore the last line. Brilliant. And a nice insight into the mentality of England's Virgin Queen.

On the subject of women's bodies in writing, and my own ideas centering around empowerment.

I wanted to expand a bit more on the subject of empowered women, and what that means societally and also on an individual level.




I mentioned in class that the power of women cannot be evaluated in the same scale as the power of men. The power of women can contain many subtleties. The perception of women as powerful depends on the viewer, and also on the opinion of the individual.



I've noticed, among my girl friends, that they find it acceptable to use their feminine beauty/body as a source of power in their relationship to the world and men.



I've struggled with this identity that they are comfortable with. I'd rather be noticed for my intelligence, or accomplishments. Not that they wouldn't, but they find their bodies to be just as much of a source of power as their minds. We have had many arguments on this subject, and I cannot ignore the fact that they are intelligent, creative, strong women, whose opinions are just as valid as mine when the subject is focused on what it means to be a woman and what defines femininity.



For example, I talked about a friend of mine in class. She is in her mid thirties and has three children. When she met her significant other (man) she was stripping. She quit and has tried various jobs in the three years that they have been together. She is extremely comfortable with her sexuality, taking openly about it; comfortable with the attention she receives and feels like there should be no stigma surrounding her choosing stripping as a profession. She enjoys it. She says there is a sisterhood that emerges among the workers; she loves dancing and she enjoys the attention from men.



Is she less intelligent than me? No. Is she less of a person? No. So why does the idea of her dancing for money bother me? Why do I feel like it adds to the objectification of women as a whole? Who am I to argue that what she does is lessening the power of women when she herself is arguing that it empowers her as a person?



Next example, an artist. She stripped her way through school and had tons of bad experiences in that profession. She graduated in graphic design and now has a studio in which she works and engraves during the week. When I ask her what she is looking for in love (because she is single) she tells me she wants a man who is A. rich, and B. handsome. Those are the only two things she lists. This is a woman who has dated both sexes, is extremely liberated, yet she only wants a rich handsome man as a life partner. To me, this is the opposite of liberation. For her, its empowering to have someone take care of her. She feels like her femininity will be best expressed by this type of relationship. To sidetrack a little here, I think there is a bit of a double standard. If a man says to his friends that he wants a rich handsome woman, we as women would consider him shallow. Yet if a woman says she wants a rich handsome man, we may consider her shallow also but we'd likely congratulate her for using her sexual power to her advantage. So is it an empowering sexuality that allows these women to lead the lives they choose? They aren't forced into them. They are fully capable of supporting themselves by other means. Yet they would choose to use their bodies as a flower uses pollen to attract a bee.



Is it wrong? These women would say no. I recently had a conversation with my boyfriend about a Hooters opening in our hometown. He was asked by a client to go with him to the private opening. He asked me how I felt about him going. I told him it was his decision. He wanted to know how I felt and I told him I feel that it objectifies women, and in essence is part of a bigger problem with women and the objectification of women through sexuality. Hooters are strict about their uniforms, and only offer sizes Xs and XXS for their servers, for example. Why? Because that's the object of the business, to serve women as entertainment, and through that medium sell food, not to make the women employed feel comfortable. Maybe I'm being sensitive, but I have a hard time accepting and endorsing any profession or decision that adds to the overall pool of objectification of women. So what is there to do? Never watch television, never watch movies, never open a magazine? I can't. And unless I force myself to live in a cave, I'll never be an example of that purity of subject that I yearn for all women to experience. And what would living in a cave accomplish? Nothing.



Right now, I think its necessary to recognize female directors as female. To recognize female writers, actresses, dancers, etc as female. To have a classes that focus on accomplishments toward women. In a perfect world, this would not be necessary. But the reality is that we still live in a world where it is necessary, and every action of every woman adds to the future that we are trying to create. The only question remaining is if a woman should sacrifice what is right for her in order to help create this future free of objectification. And if she does sacrifice, isn't she in essence giving up the very thing that women have fought for for centuries, the right to individual expression in any form.



It's definitely something to think about.

Dad

was in my dream last night. He bought a house on Prytania and was living next to the ice cream shop. So said my mother. But when I met up with him I asked him if it was really next door to it, and he said no, it wasn't even within walking distance.

I was sad about that but happy to have him in the city so close to me.

I wish I dreamed of him more often. Its the only time we ever get to visit anymore.

My real name, continued.

I enlisted the help of a friend of mine to figure out possibilities with my last name in French, since it is a French name.

He said the only 8 word possibility is origines..which means origins  in french. So my name means Refin Jen, Origins. Last name origin, Origin is where something begins, where it comes from. Appropriate for a last name, no? Rise, Beginning, Source.

Source of my blood, of my family, of me.

Amused..

From facebook..questions my friends answered.


1. Do you think Jennifer is cute?                  Yes
2. Do you think Jennifer has ever
   had a one night stand?                              Yes
3. ...voted for Obama?                                Yes
4....has ever stolen from work?                    No
5....can keep a secret?                                Yes
6....ever been in a fist fight?                         Yes
7. ..would secretly fart in public?                  No.


Well. What I can deduct from this is that my friends find me to be an attractive, slutty, angry, yet morally uptight liberal who can be trusted.

Of course I've stolen from work.  They make it too easy sometimes. And its a corporation. So who cares.
Of course I've farted in public. Who hasn't? Wow on that one.
And no, I've never been in a fist fight. I've never been in any physical alteration except when I was young young with my best friend (hair pulling, etc)

Rest are right :P

If I was a space alien,

sent here to watch society and come up with three things that are so outside the reign of what I am used to but what humans consider "normal" I would choose:

1. Everyone needs to look the same. Smaller aspect of the larger problem of the human need to "fit in."
 Everywhere, on magazines, on television, through reinforcement of their parents and friends, they are told and pushed and prodded to look the same. When one finds a dress, the other wants a similar one. When one sees a haircut, the other one wants the haircut. They find this acceptable. Lack of identity, visually or otherwise.

2. Murder. There is nothing to be gained by taking another one's life. No spiritual advancement, no knowledge, only material possessions, which mean nothing.

3.Religion. They gather in groups and praise named invisibilities. Then they separate themselves from others who do not praise the same named invisibilities. It matters not to them that they are both invisible, the name is what they focus on. Humans seem to focus always on the shell, never the essence.

My real name.

I was playing around with my name, Jennifer, and I came across this just by reversing some of it.

"Refine jen"

 First of all, I consider myself to be jen. I once told a friend of mine that when someone calls me jen, or jenjen, my heart responds. So the fact that these three letters can stand alone..j..e...n...is no surprise to me. It's my true name, Jennifer never fit. It makes me uncomfortable and now I know why..its not mine.

Refine. From the etymology dictionary, the word refine was first used in metals. Earth. Simplistic material, natural, pure. To refine something means to free it. To refine something means to free it. Refine Jen. Free Jen.

My natural name means literally Free Jen. Hello?? Do you hear this? In extended meaning, to free from unwanted impurities. To rid myself of things I don't need, don't want, and don't ring true to myself. To free myself from the crap that tries to suffocate me each day.

My name is Refine Jen. Free Jen. Jen. Free from impurities. Jen.

Fluffyface.

Can't help but love her b/c she's so cute.
List of things she's done that have ranged from horrible to down right annoying in the past week:
!. Shit on my bed. I notice at 12am when I'm about to go to sleep. Have to stay up for the next 2 hours washing and drying comforters and sheets.
2. Last night she kept running over my chest. I'd just fall asleep, then here she would come, zoom with her lil paws over my chest onto the floor. fall asleep. Over my chest onto the bed. fall asleep. Jumps onto my chest, and stands there. I move her. Fall asleep. Over my chest and proceeds to start hacking up a furball on my floor. I grab her and throw her out. Enough. This is around 4 am. I'm trying to sleep for over an hour.
3. Just now: I'm studying. I have a paper with formulas I'm writing down. Where does she lie? Right on top of it. I sigh, consider moving her, she stretches out her paws and yawns and looks at me. Instead I reach for the binder and pull another sheet out.

This cat owns me.

Here is something I'm working on:

This is after I added the color. Here is the original:

 

Not even close to finishing it yet, obviously. I'm just learning aspects of my paint program right now mostly.

I found this great site that contains pictures from old books...the 17th century and 18th century ones are particularly dear to my heart.

I used to love the ocean.

Now it only reminds me of dead dreams.

Last night was Lady Gaga. She taught me how to kiss my cat on the mouth to make it writhe in pleasure. Short, quick kisses on her little mouth. She showed me by kissing me. I clammed up but thought she was lovely.

Why Lady Gaga. She intrigues me. She's freakish, like I feel sometimes. I watched two women making love yesterday at some point. 

I feel like a nonentity. I nonperson. A non-thing. Nonexistence.  nonreal.

Last night

was bad. First time in a long time I've had suicidal thoughts. I think its safe to say that I'm rather depressed.

Unfortunately life is still moving forward. I have a biology lab midterm this afternoon that I must study for now.

Life is unkind.

Inspired

What dubious explanation can be found for my crime?
What doubtful harness holds the reins of our friendship:
Tattered, Torn, Dust-covered and threadbare,
Waiting for hands to hold it, if not in kindness,
Than in a stern resolute of will?
What malignancy holds you captive,
 Afar beyond the reach of my prostrate repentance?
I beg of you, do me justice;
relieve me of this restless wonder that twists my heart in pain.

A letter to an old friend..

For years, I've sat in darkness, waiting for a reason why I no longer have the comfort of my friend, the inspiration of her ideas and exuberance of her energy. Sisters we were in action and thought, in strength and love; I held you to highest esteem.

I cannot guess at the reason for the severity of my punishment.
I can only mention the grievances I may have caused you; perhaps you can point to one and our memories, while diverse in feeling, may cross in experience. I shall explain my reason behind each and maybe you may find that I was not acting out of cruelty (as maybe you suspect?)

1. Your suspicion/experience of Shannon going after Steve.
-Perhaps I didn't provide the support you needed at this point. I did talk to Shannon about it, and she said she was in love with Chris, as she always was. Perhaps you needed me to back you in this with more vigor, and I failed. Forgive me for falling into the position of a friend stuck between two friends. You were the friend I held in higher esteem.

2. Perhaps someone told you I thought you lied? When I was younger, I was quite paranoid. As much as I loved you, I suspected that sometimes you lied to me about why you couldn't see me, or what you were doing, or who you were with. There was much about you that was hidden even to me, close as I was to you. I could only reach so far and understand so much. I didn't talk of my doubts to many, but I suppose they might have fallen ill upon your ears. Forgive me for this, I'm now on Prozac that all but cures paranoia and anger.

3. I hadn't seen you in awhile, and I came to your house. I left quickly b/c you were high and talking about aliens. I was frustrated because I needed a heart to heart. I was being selfish and unreasonable. Instead of enjoying my time with my friend, and seeing where the conversation ended up, I left. Forgive me for this, I was young and foolish.

4. Not being there for you when you lived in Chance's house.
-I don't know how much you needed me at this time. It seemed we were in different worlds. I much resented the people who held you there, although I realize now you acted of your own free will. I wanted to be a part of your life but I couldn't find a place where I might fit. Drugs didn't agree with me, and I was intimidated by the artists that you lived with. I was afraid I wasn't the artist that they were and I would seem to them to be inferior. I'm sorry if you needed me and I wasn't there. I wasn't sure how to reach you (metaphorically).

5. One time you and Steve were waiting at Jason and my house.
I'm sorry if I treated you less than kind that day. I was moody and Jason and I were fighting. He didn't like the fact that you two showed up. Of course in my heart you were always welcome. Things differ when you are in a relationship, and you are young. You make mistakes with your friends. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad at any point.

These are my lists of grievances against you as I remember them. Perhaps you can point to one and say that it is my crime; that it is the reason you stayed so far away from me in heart and mind all these years. Perhaps you can shed some light.

If it is for another reason than these, then I truly do not know it. Perhaps its not even real. Please talk to me and tell me what was the poisoned arrow that pierced your lovely heart.

Yours,
Jenny

Thoughts

Charlotte. I think this is the name of my daughter. I was interested in Madeline, mostly for the shortened name Maddy. However I think Charlotte has a beautiful southern ring to it. And I could pay homage to my roots, and Charlotte Bronte.