DaisySmiles: Life in the Gayborhood

Monday, December 11, 2006


It has been 9 months since I was last on this site. I could have given birth to a child but I didn't, yet 9 months is a very auspicious amount of time. Why do I now find myself here when I have not been here once in all that time? I have thought about the people I met here- Rain, Lissa, Sassy, FineArtist- and wondered how they were doing. I could have logged on and viewed their blogs, but I didn't. There was a sort of sadness that was attached to my own blog, and my reasons for starting it, that I did not want to look back on. So why am I here now? And why did my blog give me such sadness? Was it because the pain of my horrible break up with my ex drove me to start a blog in which I could, ideally, let out some of that frustration? Was it because I was frustrated with my job and my love life? Or was it the constant reminder that I am always hiding behind some sort of anonymity?

I am constantly in battle with just "being ok with me." In person you would not guess that I struggle, I portray myself as very confident- a take me or leave me and I don't give a shit either way kind of girl. The truth is, I am very insecure... and the thought of giving people inside information about me that they could use against me frightens me. Use against me... what does that even mean? People I know seeing me as a fallible? Human? How can that *really* be used against me? It's a catch 22 I suppose- they can only affect me if I let them, and I can only let them if I allow my insecurities to consume me, yet to be to a point where I can let everything out I have to be confident in myself.

Quandary. I facilitate a support group where the concept of self confidence is often brought up. My co-facilitator told the women the other day that they needed to start feeling better about themselves, build up their self confidence. All I could do was sit there and think- and just how does one do that? Does one just wake up one morning and think "I am not longer going to think I am a piece of shit" and voila it's done? I believe that I have a higher self esteem than the average person, but I question if it is more accurately stated that I only project a higher self esteem. I do know it saddens me when I counsel these women, knowing that they should demand more respect but also knowing they won't because they do not feel they deserve it. Of course they know they logically deserve it, but emotionally it's a different story.

Maybe this brings me back to the beginning. Aligning my head and my heart to feel better about myself would allow me to feel more free. Nine months later and I am giving birth to a place where hope can be nourished, eventual learn to crawl, and then walk.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Looking for love...

looking for love in all the wrong places.
Looking for love in too many faces.
Searching their eyes, looking for traces
of what I'm dreaming of.

Hoping to find a friend and a lover,
I'll bless the day I discover
another heart, looking for love

Driving around in circles the other night, literally, driving in circles. I was not lost, although I am sure those who saw me thought so. It took a full minute to complete the circle. I circled for 30 minutes. And I thought, what am I doing? I would like to think that the circling symbolized where I am in my life right now, but it doesn’t. What is more apt is me literally banging my head against a wall.

I find myself walking down one street, as apposed to another, to the store in hopes I will see this certain person I have a fancy for. I find myself going a block or two out of the way, to walk near where the object of my affection works in hopes of a chance encounter. I get up in the morning and scrutinize my outfit; does this slim down my thighs? does this hide my flabby arms? does this color make me look healthy, fun, approachable?

The one I wish to notice me, is not someone unknown to me. We did “date” for a brief time a couple months ago, but things did not seem to blossom on their end. On my end, infatuation. Of course, the conventional understanding of the term infatuation does not carry a good connotation. It seems to be very unrealistic (which I wasn’t) and one-sided (which the end result would leave me to believe it was), but it was the word that came to mind. The Webster’s definition of infatuation states “to cause to be foolish,” which I certainly felt going in circles. Maybe obsession would be a better word; “a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling; broadly a compelling motivation.” Well, I am preoccupied with the idea of actually dating my crush, I am compelled to be motivated to continue such ridiculous thoughts that “if only...” they would want to date me. If only they got to know me, if only I made my self more attractive, if only…

I left the circle wondering, when will I be enough for me? I am a grounded individual with the average amount of self esteem, but I still find myself wanting.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006


My friend Farra and her girlfriend broke up a couple weeks ago, but in standard dyke fashion are still talking and having sex off and on, but not wanting to run into eachother out in public. Earlier in the week the girlfriend asked me to hang out with her at a dance party happening at the Black Cat (a local bar). I decided to go, knowing I would only be staying like an hour because I had 2 other places I had to go that night, one of which was a house party with Farra. Arriving at the Black Cat I told gf I was going to be cutting out to go to a house party, through a short interaction we realized that we both were going to the same party, when she stops dead, "Farra will be out the house party won't she?" Needless to say I spent my next hour listen to gf cry about how much she loved Farra and missed her, yadda yadda yadda. Repeatedly she would say, "I shouldn't go to this party, should I? But I told my friend I would stop by. Farra hates me doesn't she? She won't want to see me at the party. It is a really bad idea if I go isn't it? I shouldn't go, should I?" I wanted to scream. I really don't like drama. So, we leave, go to the house party, and on the way there I find out that Farra is skipping the party and going straight to Apex (local gay dance club), knowing gf talked nothing about going to Apex, I tell her she is in the clear. After about 45minutes at the house party I split to head over to Apex. Farra and I are watching the people dance when guess who walks in. The next hour was spent trying to keep the two of them from running into each other, and having to listen to both of them, separately, whine about the other. I just had to go. I found out that not too long after I left, one of them ended up going up to the other and a bit of drama ensued. I swear, one of the things I miss about dating guys is the lack of drama. You are either in or you’re out. That's it.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Why men are better at pool

Really guys don’t get it. Women are not free. Women cannot just walk down any street at any time of day without being concerned for their safety. Many feel this is an exaggeration, but of those who feel this way- how many of them are women? Picture an urban area. A man can go out to the corner store to pick up a pack of smokes and no speaks to him. A woman cannot go out without at least one person saying something sexual. Can men even fathom how intrusive that is? That a woman has to constantly hear “Hey baby ... don’t you look fine ... what are you doing tonight ... what’s your name pretty girl.” Men are not just “talking” it is not just a polite “good morning” they are looking to invade my body with one of their body parts. Physically speaking, they could if they wanted to and I would have no say. A man can walk to the store at 3am. His only concern is that his wallet may get stolen; a woman has to be concerned that her wallet, her dignity, her mental stability, and possibly her health may be stolen.

Now on to something a little lighter...

I have thought on many occasions that I would like to learn to play pool. I have no skill, no strategy, I hit the ball and if something goes in a pocket I am happy. Wednesday night is free pool for women night at a local pool hall, so after work I cruise over to get some practice before the place fills up. When I walk in the place is pretty empty; couple people at the bar and only two out of the 15 tables are taken. I rack up the balls and start to play. Two minutes, literally 2 minutes, into my practice a guy comes up to me. He wants to sit, watch me play, and give me pointers. Very kind of you, sir, but did I ask for a fucking pointer? Of course I wonder if would have gone up to a guy and given him pointers. I am polite and after about 30minutes he finally goes away. I manage to get in about 30 more minutes before the place starts to bustle and the table next to mine is filled. Two gentlemen and two ladies, co workers. I can see them watching me from time to time, one of the guys in particular. I don’t think too much of this, because I have often watched the person at the table next to mine shoot. But of course, it doesn’t last too long before the one guy comes over to talk to me. I am polite but not interested in conversation so he goes back to his own game. Of course that is not the end of it because he continues to come over several more times during the next hour I am there. He is making small talk and giving me pointers (not that I asked). One of the last times he comes over to talk to me he says “I was thinking about why I am coming over and talking to you. What it was about you that made me want to talk to you. It is because you are here all alone. My co-worker, that I am playing pool with, she will not even go to lunch by herself, or take a walk. Why is it that you are not afraid to come out by yourself? That you are not afraid of what all these people will think of you?”
I was not even sure how to respond. It seemed such a ridiculous question.
But all of it did make me think. To be good, or at least decent, at pool one must go out to pool halls to get practice in. Men go out to pool halls with no problems and just play pool by themselves. I have seen many a man playing pool by themselves in a pool hall. If someone does come up to them, it is another man who is there by themselves, asking to play a game. If a woman goes to a pool hall by themselves they are lucky if only two men come up to them- and when the men do come up, it is not to play a game as an equal, it is to give pointers.
Of course, after all that discord, the man asked me out.


I have had some strange and disappointing things go on with my job. Too much to type, but suffice to say I am in a position where I am wondering what my purpose is. Am I suppose to be an office lackey or am I suppose to be following some dream I have not yet discovered? I feel like I can't resign myself to the idea that I just have to "suck it up." I have no kids, no looming debt, no responsibilities outside of myself- so I have no reason to have to be a conventional member of society. But I still do not know what my purpose is. Plus, I have come to realize I have spent the last decade (literally) in a relationship. My last relationship ended 5 months ago and that is the longest, by far, I have been single in 10 years. I think it does not speak well of me to have been so attached to someone or another for so long... not to mention it being the primary focus of my life for those years. But then here I am TRYING to get a career together, trying to concentrate on my "life" (what ever the fuck that is) and I am failing miserably. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself. One has to learn by trial and error. I guess I just feel that I am too old to be floundering. And quite frankly, I feel this floundering is a waste of my time. I want some direction already. Some divine intervention.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006


So... I have been very busy with my new job that I have been in a month. Today I just found out that I am being removed from my position. I am dumbfounded. I know there are some shady things going on, but there is nothing I can do to prove it, or do anything I can do about it. I will be dropping about 4thou is salary- which is a lot of money to me. Not to mention, I was really enjoying my new job. It was challenging, different, and included a variety of tasks. I don't even know what to say. Most of all, what hurts is my pride. I will have to go back to my old office and have 101 questions from 202 people. Have I mentioned that I hate The Man?

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Past Life

I was reminded of something by a message on Lissa’s blog where she said that she must have done something bad in a previous life to deserve the shit she gets in this life.

My aunt always says she must have been Attila The Hun (sp?) in her previous life b/c of all the stuff that happens to her in this life, and I do have to say, she has the worst luck of anyone I know.

I have always wondered who I was in my last life. I have heard storied where people have pain in an ankle that defies any medical diagnosis. Then they find out (by some means) that in their last life they were hung by that ankle, blah, blah, blah.

So... I admit I have emotional issues (who doesn’t?) but I do not see any rational logical reason for my issues. Some women have male abandonment issues b/c their fathers left. That is what I would consider a rational logical reason; and once they know the root of their problems they can begin to overcome them. But what if you cannot find any “reason” for an issue? How do you come to terms with it? I have thought about trying to find a psychic or a past life hypnotist who could tell me who I was in my past life. I would like to think that maybe that would give me some answers since this life does not seem to provide me with any. Kinda kooky, I know. But I am at a lost with how to better myself further.

One of my issues is forgiving people, including myself. I think I am very fair, and I don’t judge too harshly, but when my trust is betrayed- that’s it- I am done; regardless if you are my lover, friend, or family member. It is something that I feel like I should get over. That I should be able to forgive. Let me give an example. My father, in my early 20’s, did something that I cannot forgive him for. I understand why he did it. As a person I can see and I can understand, but as his daughter I cannot forgive him. All in all, my dad was a good dad throughout my life. I really don’t have any complaints about my childhood. It was run-of-the-mill. But as an adult I do not have a relationship with my dad b/c of what he did. As a person I don’t care much for him, he does not take responsibility for his actions and tends to lie to get out of trouble. As an adult I have out grown the need for a father-type role in my life. So what do I do with him now? On one hand, I feel the experience has uncovered my eyes from the mysterious pedestal on which we place our parents (I mean, after all, they are just people too). That I don’t have to like my father, that I don’t even have to have a relationship with him. That I can now evaluate him on the basis of who he is, and choose to be around him or not, just as we do with people in general. But then, the other hand says... but he is my dad. He coached my softball games, went to see my recitals, taught me how to throw a ball, and taught me how to change my oil... am I not suppose to love him regardless? Isn’t that what unconditional love is? And isn’t that what I am suppose to have for a parent who, for all intensive purposes, was a good dad?

So I can’t forgive him, and I am bothered by the fact that I cannot forgive him. Maybe a trip down past life lane would help me understand why I have such a wall with forgiveness... along with my other issues...

DC living

I am so tired. Tired of fighting The Man so the working man can live a fair life. Tired of keeping up with the injustice so I can fight it. Is it too much to ask that people just act fairly? Then I wouldn’t have to be on my toes all the time. And you know what really pisses me off? Fighting this capitalist society all day long then going to the grocery store to have not even ONE 2 litter bottle of Pepsi or Coke in the entire store.
(I do realize that DC probably has a higher percentage of people who actually keep up with politics, local and otherwise, and if I lived in another city I may actually be able to space out into the mundane droll of everyday life... but I really like it here...)


I said I would do a better job of keeping up with post. bah. Work is ridiculous. I do good to get a chance to shower more than once a week. Sure, sure, sure, I could skip eating or skip out on some sleep to shower... but I am not willing to make that sacrifice. Sleeping and eating is more important to me than showering. Plus, I am only eating like once a day and sleeping like 6 hours, so how can I really cut down?

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Going to get keys made

I walk into this relatively small but surprising packed (with people and inventory) hardware store. I wonder to the back corner where signs have directed me I could get keys made. Four people are waiting, and as I stand there others come up to also have keys made. Two gentlemen stand behind a counter at two separate key making machines. The man on the right is a younger guy, I would guess not yet 30. He has very short hair, a thin face, and a button up shirt on covered by a slightly tattered beige apron. The man on the left is an older guy, I would guess over 60. His thinning hair is greased back in a style that tells his age, glasses that have as much personality as military issue, and a gold chain around his neck that supports a cross. Both sport honest smiles as they converse.
“They sure go us workin’ in heere don’t they Casanova?” says the younger man.
“Sure do”
“Making keys all day long, ain’t that right Casanova?”
“That’s right”
“We make ‘bout 200 ‘undered keys a day, don’t we Casanova?”
“Yeah” says Casanova enunciating the ‘e’
“Yeah, they got us workin’ don’t they Casanova?”

As I stood there, smiling, I imagined they have this same conversation everyday.


Wow... I normally go a couple days without posting, but this break has been a bit too long. I started a new job recently and it has been kicking my butt. Stories about my interesting job experiences later...