BIG FLAMING HOMO

Artwork

Here are two watercolours from over Easter:

1. There was an article on rabbits on the Easter newspaper, and they were just so adorable. I dug out my watercolours.

I tried to get that "fuzzy" effect of wet-on-wet. Didn't quite work. Also, Bunny looks too tall, like it's a hunched monster, instead of a cute nibbler. The grass didn't turn out nicely, either. I think the biggest problem is my lack of planning.

2. I put more planning into this doodle.

I like this little fellow a lot! This piece is on display in my room.


Queer

I've been thinking about queerness again. The issue has come up with one of my close friends, let's call him Andy, because he's mostly straight, but he loves his best friend, and now they're acting on it.

Andy was one of the first people I came out to--of course, because we were close friends. He didn't get why I had to make such a big deal out of being queer; it's not his business, so why should he care? And every time I'd say something unquestionably queer, he'd call me on it and get fed up immediately. Can't say I'd have blamed him; I think I was the first queer person he had a relationship with.

Anyway. Turns out he loves his best friend. He told me that, ever since I came out to him, he'd been thinking about his love for his best friend. I don't mean to be an I-told-you-so, but I could tell my queerness made him uncomfortable on a deeper and more personal level than just, "Ew, you're a queer person." But I figured it'd be best to let him figure out why he reacted so much.

Our relationship's been through a heck of a lot. I'm not sure what's going on right now; we talked about our differences. He thinks Gay Pride Parades are counterproductive, because shoving it in others' faces won't make them any more accepting. I believe Gay Pride Parades are more about celebrating than convincing. Similarly, I don't think fiancees invite guests to their wedding to convince them they love eachother; they invite others to celebrate.

Is it vain to celebrate in public? Maybe. But some people think they have all sorts of rights. I still remember our History teacher saying, "Some people believe they have the right to be surrounded only by white people." Similarly, I think some people believe they have the right to be surrounded by only heteronormative people.

Andy says that I'm intolerant of those who aren't as open-minded. Sadly, I think he's got a point. I really, really wish people were more open-minded. At the same time, I'm learning that there needs to be all sorts of people for the world to work. (I think that's what the Tower of Babel was about.)

"You need to be more open-minded!" has been added to my list of ironic phrases.


I like obscenity

I'm not sure why. I like that it rubs us the wrong way and makes us uncomfortable. I like controversy and making people uncomfortable. Is that selfish? Do I like being made uncomfortable? ... I think I do; sometimes. I can appreciate it when something makes me uncomfortable--intellectually.

Sometimes I'm a bit too obscene for my own social survival (like playing games with Kevin's brother who's three years younger than us). Man, I can just see it happening--I'm courting Kevin and I'm over for a family dinner and I start talking about clits and menstruation over a fabulous turkey dinner and suddenly everyone has lost appetite.

I'm trying to tone it down when I'm around certain crews.


Church

I stick out in my church. We're maybe 99% Asians, and all of us, generally, very traditional. Of the women, I probably have the shortest hair. I try to style it so that it looks "modern" as opposed to "masculine", but somehow I'm always wearing masculine ("gender neutral" at best) clothes, too. Everyone always says it's "cute", like if they said anything else, it might be insulting or give me away as a queer.

Dammit, I'm pretty open, too.

I want to be a FLAMING HOMO in my church. But that's a bit difficult for women; I guess I could pierce the bajeebus out of my face, and wear a mohawk and black pants with metal chains hanging everywhere. Or, I dunno, plaid and steel-toed boots.

The weird thing is that I trust our leaders: pastors and some elders and teachers, and even some of the more prominent figures in our general body/classes. But it's everyone else; the way gossip travels, the way everyone is up in everyone else's business--I can't stand that.

I'd love it if I could shout, "WOOO, I'M A HOMO!" and stop everyone from trying to ask and gossip. "GET OVER IT!" I know this group of people would have little problem with it; and there would definitely be some people on the ends of the spectrum, who'd either congratulate me, or condemn me; but the majority of them would whisper about how sorry they are for my soul: "Is that proper? I don't think it's proper. Maybe she'll go to Hell. Poor girl. Let's pray that she changes."

"THAT'S RIGHT, I LOVE CLIT! BOOBS ARE FANTASTIC, AND NIPPLES ARE FLIPPIN' AMAZING!"

Haha. Right, that's happening.

--Charlie!

Books and Easter

Books

I finished reading The Wrath of the Grinning Ghost by Brad Strickland (using Johnny Dixon and more of Bellairs' characters).

I guess I picked this up because I had bought "The Bell, the Book and the Spellbinder" back in grade school and I missed reading fantastic magical adventure horror stories. 'Grinning Ghost was amazing. It starts off a little quick and predictable, but I didn't mind.

I started up on l'Engle's The Young Unicorns, but had to put it down after about 10 pages. It was just too racist. Not that it was malicious, but just the fact that the characters had to ponder race so deeply--and within the first 10 pages--was a major turn-off. I may give it a second chance later (l'Engle is one of my favourite writers after all).


Easter

I was in the Good Friday / Easter choir again this year. It kinda sucks that we need a special occasion for a choir, but at least we have a choir. It's good to be singing again; feels wonderful.

I also found myself realizing how....strong our leaders are.

We have three pastors: one each for English, Cantonese and Mandarin. In the two Johnny Dixon books I've read, the priest is a heroic figure. I guess that's also in a few of l'Engle's books, too.

And I realized during service, that the three pastors are also...warrior-like. They too have that strength and a sort of nobility or knight-ness. Also one of our Elders who teaches Sunday School for the teens. Should anyone in the church be caught in a spiritual battle and be in need of help, I have no doubt any of them would hesitate to fight. I dunno, it's easy to picture them with jeweled swords and emblazoned shields, fighting off demons and dragons.

Which, I guess they do!

One of their favourite passages is about the Armour of God (http://www.realarmorofgod.com/armor-of-god.html).


[post abandoned]

Games and Kevin

Went to Kevin's place last night.

Man, I'm kinda glad his brothers were home; that might've been the only thing keeping me from jumping him. I've been pretty libidinous lately.

Turns out, Kevin used to be a competitive long-distance runner, when he was around 11 years old. He's won medals; his athleticism is still noticeable on his body. It's also partly due to doctors thinking he had a disorder where he couldn't process wheat gluten or something, so he didn't eat much.

My co-worker, Leah, says that my chemistry with James means only that we'd have healthy children together. It does not indicate an emotional, spiritual or any other non-physical compatibility. I think this might also extend to Kevin. We've got that body chemistry going on, I think (maybe; it's too soon to tell anything yet). He has a similar body type.

We played word games, mostly; started off with that insult game Neek invented.


"Insult Game"

Setup

Paper; writing utensils.
Two-player game; difficult to adapt beyond two players.

A box is drawn on a paper. First player writes a statement that is insulting to Second player. The paper is then passed to Second player, who must defend hir dignity or turn the statement around to insult First player. Players may read aloud the entire statement after each revision.

Rules:

1. No more than 3 words may be crossed out on any turn.
   
2. Anything added in the immediately preceding turn may not be touched. E xceptions: on the second turn; however, any names must be left the same.
   
3. No writing may overlap.
   
4. No writing may cross the border.
   
5. The statement must be only one sentence; players may not end the sentence prior to the game ending; punctuation and conjunctions may be used without limit.
   
6. The game ends when either:
   
   1. the player being insulted is no longer offended; this may be called only before that player's turn; or
      
   2. the remaining space is declared insufficient to continue.
   At this point, the last player will end the entire statement with a single period.

We had two rounds of this and got fed up, so switched to a game called "Ghost":


Ghost

Setup:

Paper, writing utensils, dictionary (Internet is best).
Two-player game; may be adapted for more than two, though smaller games are best.

Players take turns adding letters to form a real word.

Rules:

1. Words must be a minimum of four letters long.
   
2. No proper nouns.
   
3. English only; may include anglicized words, depending on a vote by the players.
   
4. The player who finishes a word loses and receives a "point". The player with the least amount of points at the end is declared the winner.
   
5. If a player adds a letter, and the other players:
   
   1. do not know of any word beginning with those letter combinations; or
      
   2. believe that player has added an invalid letter (ie: either the player does not know any words beginning thus; or there is no such word beginning thus);
   that player may be challenged. A dictionary is consulted. If such a word exists, the other players each receive one point. If no such word exists, that player receives one point for each other player.

I spelled "antediluvian" wrong, but nobody knew the word, so we all forfeited the round.

Then Kevin's brother proceeded to read our fortunes using "MASH". I seriously cannot believe there's a Wikipedia article on this.


Afterward, Kevin walked me to the bus stop. He mentioned how he had run after a bus earlier today, but when he had seen it go by, he shouted, "Fuck me!" in a British accent. Awww, he's adorable!

--Charissa

Dreams and People!

So, the principal of the Maths school, Daniel, is someone I find to be very authoritative or powerful, but also easy-going.

My "boss" in the Army, MCpl E--, has lately been pretty good to us. At least, I can tell she's a good instructor and she cares for our well-being. When we went outside and K-- had no gloves, MCpl gave her some, explaining about her own "supervisor" who had the her marching while carrying equipment and wearing many layers; and then stopping to rest, where she'd sweat and take off her layers; then marching again, so she had to put everything back on--her instructor didn't realize she got hypothermia this way. Last week, F-- and I asked her questions and she gave us on-the-spot lessons and plenty of stories. I'm thankful someone like her is in charge of us. She's also a self-proclaimed bitch; very mean and nasty at times, but not unnecessarily--to us, at least; to others, maybe--I think.

I had a dream earlier today, and these impressions featured prominently.


Dreams

I was a student of magic.

My "headmaster" (I guess; it was someone I'd have to report to; to show my progress to) bore MCpl E--'s personality. She was strict, but cared about my well-being and when I had questions or wanted an explanation, if she could or had time, she'd give me fantastic explanations.

To train in magic, I went to a sort of gymnasium. I'd sign in, and if one of the instructors was available, I'd have the option of training under hir.

There were two instructors I mainly dealt with:
"Ian", a young man who looked like "The Neighbour" in Flaky Pastry, was very friendly and encouraging, but also very, very strict when someone messed up; and
"Than", a man who was extremely powerful and controlled, but also very easy-going and friendly (like Daniel!).

And sometimes my "headmaster" would also be my instructor, I think.

Anyway.

At first, I only trained under Ian, because he was so friendly and I didn't know anyone else.

One day, I had spare time, so I decided to go to the gym. I saw Ian was buy training someone else. She was slightly older than me; blonde; and at a different level than me. I overheard her talking with the "headmaster", saying things like, "So, I hear you'd like to do [this exercise]. Do you think you're up for it?" She'd affirm. "Well. Remember to wrap a bandage [just a strip of fabric] around your right hand. When you catch the [flying thing], you will have to drink the blood--raw creature blood, do you understand?" She affirmed. "Good for you. Off with you now!"

I later asked the "headmaster" about her. She explained not to worry about this girl; that she was "in a completely different league of magic than" me. I wondered what she meant. As I went to sign in for training, I glimpsed the recommended training schedules and saw an exercise that looked like it might be the one the girl was going on.

The clerk gave a polite cough, and I looked back at him. He wanted to know if I would train under an instructor today. I told him I didn't know anyone else so I'd just train alone. He looked doubtful (I had never trained alone before, but I had an idea what to do). He said, if I changed my mind, in their spare time, instructors generally circulated the gym, supervising; or one would be at a help desk. I thanked him dismissively and finished signing in.

In the change room, I put on different clothes. I think it was actually a sporty tank-top like I usually wear to the gym. I also put on gloves that let my fingers through; and I think I had a belt with various magical implements hanging from it.

Anyway, I entered the gym and did chin-ups or something. Then I went to do target-practice with a stationary target. I think I was failing at this.

Than, the instructor, came along and watched me missing horribly. I think I may have struck someone in the other lane by mistake. He put his had on my shoulder and spun me around. I forget what he said, but he eventually offered to train me. It seemed rude to refuse, and he seemed very wise or knowledgeable; to refuse would be dumb; so I accepted.

He took me to a slightly detached court; it was filled with walls like bookshelves in a library; stalls. He explained the exercise: He would throw an object, and it would land somewhere (on the shelves, in the aisles, on top of shelves, whatever), and I'd have to find it and throw it back to him. I asked how this was to improve my aim with firing spells, but he told me just to do it. I could return the item to him any way I wanted, and so long as he didn't have to exert himself to receive it, it would be considered successful.

I nodded (shrugged inwardly--how hard could this be?) and we began.

The first thing he threw was shaped like a glove. When I looked at his stance, I expected the glove to fly straight the way normal objects go when thrown. He threw it; it spiraled out away from him. I followed it with my eyes, unbelieving, and waited for it to land. It landed at the farthest shelf. I started to walk toward the shelf directly, but found myself walking in a similar spiral. I looked toward Than, but he remained expressionless and did not acknowledge me. I rolled my eyes and continued, trying to walk directly to the glove and failing miserably as I spiraled outward. Eventually, I reached it.

Now, how to return it? If I threw it, would it spiral out again? I could try a teleportation spell, but I had never done one successfully (not to mention, unsupervised) before. I could throw it to him, but given my horrible aim with magic, perhaps I would miss entirely and have to retrieve it all over again? I decided it would be safest to walk. I took a step forward; the room shifted to my left. Another step--left again. Another step--left again! This was going to be frustrating. I took a step to the right, hoping to counteract the turning. Nothing happened. Right again--nothing. I quickly checked my progress and position; I groaned. I had reached the end of the field and was walking away from Than.

I turned myself around to face him. I told myself, "I am walking toward Than. I am traveling the most efficient path toward him," as I began walking forward and the room spun about me. "I am walking toward Than. I m traveling the most efficient path toward him. I am walking toward Than..." Somehow, I made it. He did not move until I extended the glove to him, and he lifted his upturned palm. I placed it on his hand, and he came to life again.

His face lit up with an analytical smile.

"Not bad," he said. He waved his hand, and comfortable seats appeared behind us both. "Sit," he commanded. We sat.

He explained to me that this glove warped straight lines and direct paths. To go try going against the new paths it carved would have trapped me had I continued. The trick, as I had wagered, was to walk in a straight line, determined to reach a certain destination. And I had succeeded! Granted, he said, I should have known this from my books.

I looked shocked. Books? No one had ever told me about these books!

He looked worried. And then he sighed. He'd teach me about these magical items.

The rest of the time, he spent on the same type of exercise: throwing items and having me retrieve them; but he'd explain different properties these items had. He also explained his primary power: he could draw objects toward himself; more generally, he had profound telekinesis. But specifically, he could draw anything toward him, and any struggle against it would be helpless. I volunteered that it was like the glove. He laughed. He had invented that glove. I must have looked shocked; he must be much older than he appears. He seemed to affirm this with a slight smile.

He produced a marvelous clear amber stone; inside, a million crevasses raced to the centre, where a single black bead rested. He explained how he created this from the black bead and a misshapen lump of amber.

I asked if it had magical properties. It did. That black bead used to be a very rare and potent ingredient in catastrophic magics. Using just a shaving from this bead in certain spells could rend kilometers. I asked about the entire bead. He nodded gravely. Using the entire bead in a similar spell could undo the galaxy, in turn affecting the entire universe.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This bead," he said, "was a portal to nothingness." He didn't explain further, but I gathered that it was like a black hole, that could suck anything into itself. I left it at that.

"What does the amber do?"

"The amber is a nullifier. When you liquefy solid amber, and cover a magical item, the item's magic cannot penetrate the amber."

"Is that why some shields are studded with amber?" He nodded.

I looked again at the eye-like gem and wondered about the cracks. He smiled.

"I didn't liquefy this amber," he said.

"Why not?" This seemed obvious, if his greatest power was moving objects, but he explained further.

"When you liquefy something, it loses a little of its potency. When I found this bead, I had very little amber with me, and could not afford to lose that potency." He drew from somewhere a tiny lump of amber. He positioned it in his palm. "I held the bead and the amber together in my hand," he demonstrated, "and willed the amber to surround the bead." The lump of amber crackled and came together into a perfect sphere with little facets running toward the centre.

He dropped the sphere in my hand. "Here you go. It is very potent as a sphere. It would make a good ring, pendant or decoration for your hair. If you bring it to a metalworker, be sure that no more than half the sphere is coated in metal. Do not let anything pierce the sphere, or it will lose potency."

I pocketed the sphere. He spent the remainder of the "class" discussing the properties of various stones.

There were two types of stone that looked similar, but had very different properties. One stone, let's call it "Eb", provided greater control when combined with magical items. Another similar-looking stone, "Ob", had various destructive effects to the item. Ob was often used in decay spells. Both had a golden sheen, like amber, but easily distinguished by its wonderful clearness.

I had one last question for him.

"When did you realize you had a specialty?"

He frowned a little. "Probably just a little older than you," he said.

I had to ask another question.

"Does everybody have a specialty?"

He smiled a little. "Everybody has a specialty, whether they know it or not; whether it's potent or not; whether it's unique or not. Everyone." He glanced at his watch and then dismissed me.

I'm not sure what happened in between, but the next part of the dream I remember clearly took place after I had combined a portal seashell with Ob, mistaking it for Eb, and used the portal to save some endangered world that had gotten a hold of a piece of Black Bead or something.

There was a meeting involving the "headmaster", Ian, Than, and the headmaster's "boss" or something. They were discussing where the portal shell had gone; someone discovered I'd taken it (I had found it on the ground somewhere, not realizing someone had in fact dropped it there by accident) and realized what it was. Someone cried out from shell, and when I placed my ear to it, sie told me about the catastrophic troubles, so I had to help. I realized I didn't know how to use the teleportation spell, so I searched for some Eb and when I had found what I thought was Eb, I liquefied it and set it around the shell. I then gathered some more spell components before using the seashell's teleporation spell.

The rest is a bit of a blur.

The "headmaster" and company actually turned out to be employed by some evil guy who wanted to kill off everyone in that world so that he could harvest all those delicious spell components for himself. I'm not sure if Than was a goodguy or badguy. I hope he was a goodguy.

Throughout my adventures in that new world, I discovered two talents: a naturally affinity with healing magic, and the ability to absorb magic. I think that's what made me a good healer--there was so much green, growing life that I must have been absorbing it and distributing it.

What I didn't realize was that the Ob I had mistaken for Eb had an effect on the seashell portal: it prevented anywhere that I went with the seashell to be accessible by teleport. This prevented the badguys from teleporting directly to anywhere we had been, or somewhere very close to me and this crew I was leading to safety; but it also meant I could not teleport home if I held onto the shell.

I'm not sure if I realized this.

The big baddie sent goons after me, to teleport near the first place I had been, and track me from there. The Ob mineral also left a trail of decay that some of the minions could follow very easily. I think our rear guard had just spotted some baddies before I woke up.


I also have a faint memory of attacking small watery beasts with a cleaver in Kevin's house. I'm not sure if that fit into the same dream.

And that's all I got for now!

I'm going to Kevin's place later tonight; we'll figure something to do.

--Charlie!