Fragments: Sex
When I was in high school, I heard all the stories about teenagers having sex. Oh, the horror! But I wondered, how are so many people getting away with all this sex?? Apparently a lot of them are doing it right in their own bedrooms! My parents didn’t work typical 9-5 jobs, so at least one of them was often around, and even if they weren’t, their schedules were so irregular that they could pop in at any moment. Sex in the house would be a foolish risk, and I had absolutely no clue what would happen if I was caught – but I was terrified to risk finding out. So in high school, for me, sex was in cars. (This was senior year of high school.) I became adept at searching the roads of Augusta for concealed areas. I always had at least three potential places up my sleeve. One time, parked at the top of a cul-de-sac where nothing was built yet, I am 99% sure it was a cop car that drove up and turned around. Surely they saw the car parked there, in the middle of the night. And they didn’t check it out? I still don’t understand. But I know I was lucky that night. As soon as I saw those headlights, I hopped down to the area under the dashboard on the passenger’s side, trying to cover myself with my retro 1970s green polyester shirt. The thought racing through my head was, “I’ll never go to college, I’ll never go to college, I’ll never go to college.” But they turned around and left.
Senior year of high school was a tumultuous time – a mix of highs and lows from one end of the spectrum to the other – but there was nothing tumultuous about sex, not in a bad way, I mean. Everything about it felt right and I felt like I was being true to myself, freed somehow, even for just a little while.
I debated the politics of blowjobs with a friend. Ridiculously, it’s basically the same debate that occurs ever few months in the feminist blogosphere. He said he wouldn’t let a girl give him a blowjob, because that was degrading to her. I said, excuse me? Let? What is this “let” business? In that scenario, the woman is just as passive as if she’s “getting fucked” or similar language we use wherein the woman is the recipient of whatever the man does to her. I said, what if I want to do it? Are you saying I’m not able to make that decision? Because I find that pretty insulting. If I want to do it, how is it degrading?
I don’t remember his answer, I think he just muttered something. Years later he apparently still had odd ideas about sex, but that’s another story altogether.
We went to senior prom together and I heard later from a mutual friend that he said he “wonder[ed] if Amber is going to try anything.” Try anything! Ha! No, I did not “try anything” – because, I did not subscribe to the idea of sex as a game, where you have to pull one over on the other person, con them into having sex with you. I don’t know if ‘consent’ was part of my vocabulary at the time but I smelled bullshit when I saw the way sex was portrayed in media, pop culture, society, everywhere, and it didn’t jibe with common sense, to me.
The people at my private school were way more progressive about sex than the people at my public school. A few of us had this silly goal to get everyone laid before graduation. We knew it wouldn’t happen but it was a fun thing to talk about, at the time. It seems stupid looking back, but hey, we were 18.
This picture was taken in France, which is apropos to nothing, but it seems like a good choice for inclusion in this post:
Places to live, and weekend wrap-up
Back to work today. While I was glad to be able to go to Augusta and spend time with my mom, I’m happy to be back home.
I am, however, looking forward to the day when “home” means a house that we actually own, instead of an apartment that we rent. If you know me you know that for the longest time I was not at all worked up about the idea of home-ownership. In fact, I wanted nothing at all to do with it. I watched as people I knew bought houses just because it seemed like “the thing to do” and I just shook my head. Maybe it has to do with growing up with Realtor parents (well, from the late 80s on, anyway) but I think too many people get all excited about the idea of owning a home and don’t really stop and think about it. But, 3-5 years ago lenders were making loans to people who had no business qualifying and people were buying even though they weren’t really “settled.” That’s one of the biggest reasons I didn’t want to buy – I didn’t know whether I’d be staying in one city for any length of time! I didn’t want to tie myself down (mental pictures). Plus I wouldn’t be able to afford paying for all the stuff you have to pay for yourself when there’s no apartment maintenance man to call.
Now granted, sometimes the maintenance man is drunk, belligerent, and potentially violent, as happened at one apartment in Athens – the one where sewage was coming up in our sink. Sometimes the maintenance man is a nice guy but he just doesn’t have the skills to fix a particular problem. Sometimes the landlord is crazy. I am aware of all this.
But for me it was not worth it to just run off and buy a house. I always figured when the time was right, I’d know. Gotta trust my intuition. And now? I know! The time is right. I’ve enjoyed living in our loft in Decatur but it’s time to get out of there. The neighbors with their bizarre noises coming from the apartment above us; the weird smells in the hall; the people stomping through the hall at all hours; the yappy damn dogs; the Phantom Pooper; the dripping AC unit; starting off this morning with a clogged toilet and freaking out over getting germs on my hands when I couldn’t un-invert the plunger without touching it; all of this stuff, I’m over it.
And yes I know many or all of these things can happen when you own your home, depending on where you live. But that’s not my point. As I told Rusty this morning, it would be nice to live somewhere where everything works right.
Two exceptions: the ex and I never had problems (that I remember, anyway!) in our last apartment in Athens, where we lived for two years; and I loved my apartment in Texas. I was the first person who had ever lived there. It was one of the only things I liked about living in Texas!
I miss that green sofa. It was too heavy, though; I got rid of it because I was sick of nearly breaking my back every time I tried to move it anywhere. But now I kind of regret that.
Actually, how did I forget? My first apartment in Atlanta was great, too! I really enjoyed that apartment, but it wasn’t practical for me to stay after the second year – and it was probably good that I moved when I did, because it had been taken over by a new management company and was going downhill.
Maybe I just feel more annoyed now because I’m so ready to move. I don’t know. Things at our place just seem sub-par to me lately.
Anyway – after the first of the year, we will revisit the mortgage lender – assuming she still has her job, which I really hope she does, because we like her – do the pre-approval thing (we already got a pre-qualification letter back in September) and start actually going in houses with our Realtor and getting ready to make an offer. Our lease is up at the end of March so we’ll be out of the apartment by then at the latest, and hopefully a few weeks prior.
But enough about that. I want to document this process and my feelings on the matter, but when I blog too much about apartments and houses and stuff, I start to annoy myself. Yes, I know, old-school blogging FTW; but I start to get annoyed because I feel like I sound like those people who love to pontificate about real estate and how they’re going to get a deal and flip a house and blah blah blah, and think they’re big experts, but really they don’t know anything and they just sound like idiots.
So moving on.
This weekend my mom and I went to the cemetery to visit my dad’s grave. I hadn’t been since the funeral. My mom wanted to go because she wanted to see the headstone the VA put up, but she hadn’t been yet – I think she was waiting to go with me for moral support. We didn’t stay long. I think being there was a little much for my mom. I didn’t think I would get emotional but I did tear up a little – but I wonder if that was mainly out of sympathy for my mom? I don’t know. Anyway, we just stood there under an umbrella (it was raining lightly) for a few minutes, staring at the grave. We agreed that the headstone looked good; it’s very small, just a basic stone at ground level with his name, date of birth, date of death, and military rank. It’s smaller than most of the other headstones near it. My mom said, “Well, Dick, we’re just stopping by to say hello” and she got a little choked up. We stood there for a few more minutes, then she said “Well we don’t have to stay anymore” and then we left.
Also this weekend, I convinced my mom to start a blog. If she ever posts anything, I’ll link to it. It all started because there was a cover story in the Metro Spirit about the Surrey Tavern, which opened in 1978. Well it just so happens, it’s in the same location as a couple other bars where my mom worked in the late 70s. She said she’d never been to the Surrey Tavern, but she worked at Augustino’s and the Man of War, one of which was in the same location and the other was next door (and at one point they took down a wall and the two were combined). The article mentioned both those places briefly but seemed to get the chronology wrong; I showed it to my mom and she verified that it wasn’t right. The person who wrote the story is probably my age and just going off of conflicting things different people told her; but my mom has pictures from when she worked there, labeled with the dates on the back (yet another reason why it’s so important to label pictures!!), so she can say for sure. She worked at the Man of War when she was pregnant with me. I told her she should write in to the Metro Spirit with her corrections, and she said she would. Then we got to talking and I told her I thought she should start a blog and write about all the interesting/weird/funny things that happened while she was a bartender in the 70s and 80s. She could even scan some of the pictures and write about them. She got excited about that, so we went and got her set up with a blog on wordpress.com. Hopefully the motivation will stick and she’ll actually post something!
Guess I better stop for now. I’ve been writing this post off and on all day, since I’ve been so busy. Later I might write more about Augusta’s thrilling 70s nightlife! ;)
Local TV fame
When I was in Augusta last weekend, my mom dug out a tape from the 80s where she’d recorded some things of familial significance. I hadn’t watched it in years, but when I saw it, I knew immediately that this stuff would have to go on YouTube.
First up is my 30 seconds of fame on local television in 1986 (or it might have been 1987; I can’t remember for sure). My parents knew the guy who owned this piano shop and he asked us to be in a commercial. I remember we did several takes. I also remember complaining to my mom that I was too old to say “Mommy” and “Daddy,” and she explained to me that actors and actresses often play characters who are younger. That satisfied me.
Next is an Augusta local news segment from the mid 80s. My parents are in the B-roll of Maxwell’s for a few seconds toward the very end, around the 1:04 mark. It’s funny for a number of obvious reasons (80s hair, 80s attire, etc.) but also because it shows just how little local news has changed in the past 20 years.
Finally, my dad’s winning chicken recipe. Wait, let me explain: In the 80s, “Midday on 12″ was a program that came on at noon on Channel 12 in Augusta. They had a segment called “Lookin’ at Cookin’” where viewers could submit recipes, and a winner was chosen each month. My dad’s honey-baked chicken recipe was the winner one month in 1984. He won a set of really cheap pots that we ended up giving away to someone.
Aside: I love these two ladies’ Southern accents!
I also want to give a plug for Affordable Video Solutions on W. Peachtree. Originally we were going to digitize the video at home, because Rusty has one of those converter boxes to connect the VCR to his computer. But our VCR tried to eat the tape. So we took it to AVS and they fixed the tape (it wasn’t actually damaged; they just had to wind it back into the housing) and converted it to DVD. They were very friendly and fast, and the price for the conversion was $29.95. I definitely recommend them if you need anything like that.
ETA: Ha, the chicken recipe video is already the top hit on Google for "midday on 12" augusta.
(De-)Evolution(?) of the Miller Theatre
As mentioned in the latest episode of Mostly ITP, this Thursday Rusty and I will be going on a tour of the Miller Theatre in Augusta. Here’s a recent Augusta Chronicle article about the Miller.
Yesterday I was going through my Flickr photos and discovered I have photos of the three most recent stages in the Miller’s life:
Update: Crap, I couldn’t find my photo of the Miller with “It’s Time” on the marquee. But here’s a photo of it from Flickr user army.arch. (He also has a photo of the Springfield, Missouri Solo Cup plant that’s identical to the one in Augusta.)
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Familial anecdote: when my mom worked at the (now-departed) Book Corner in downtown Augusta in the early/mid 70s, she and a friend used to walk down to the Miller sometimes for popcorn.
ETA: Don’t bother reading the comments on the Augusta Chronicle article. While there aren’t any in all caps (as so often seen in AJC comments) and there are a few worthwhile ideas in there, the majority of them will really make you feel crappy.
Back, kind of…
I realize I haven’t put up a real blog post in a week. In a way that feels like ages ago, in another way it feels like mere minutes ago. Same as always; I won’t go off on the tired old babbling about the subjective, convoluted nature of time.
So much to say but I don’t even know where to start. I’ve had trouble falling asleep all week, and many nights I’ve written ridiculously long blog posts in my head as I lay awake in the dark. I’ve also been drinking too much sweet tea over the past few days, left over from Tuesday’s catering from Wife Saver; but I know my fitful sleep is attributable to far more than just extra caffeine.
If I’d had any forethought (but how could I have?) I would’ve brought my old-school paper journal with me to Chicago, meaning I’d have it here with me now, and I could be scribbling in it whenever the spirit moves. I know I’ll be doing a fair amount of that when I get home. And I also know I need to do more writing here, and it needs to come from the gut, without a filter; I guess death always makes you reassess things and realize, starkly, how short and fleeting life can be. So I need to write here for the reason I started this blog: for ME. I need to write in MY style, which admittedly others won’t always grok. But that’s okay. Because it’s not about them. And all of this has made me feel like I can do it, must do it, write for my life, without worrying about who I might piss off or what some nebulous “they” might think.
It feels weird to know that I’m going home tomorrow. It’s been over a week since I’ve been home, slept in my own bed, seen my finches, watched my Tivo, sat at my desk… it’s been over two weeks since I’ve been to work. I know getting back into the swing of things will feel good. But like I said, it also just feels weird. Everything has felt so surreal this week. I feel like things are in a state of suspended animation and I’m moving in slow motion… that’s the best way I can describe it, and even that is not totally accurate. I don’t know when I’ll come out of this state. I do know that the old truism about never knowing how a traumatic event will affect you until you’re actually dealing with it is right on.
I’ve had nightmares almost every night I’ve been here (when I’ve been able to remember my dreams at all, that is). And yet I’ve stayed in bed until late morning whenever possible, until my back hurts and my shoulders are screaming for a massage, because the lethargy is just too great to overcome. Really the only thing that forces me out of bed is having to pee.
One weird thing that’s happened while I was here: my mom’s AC literally froze. As in, the AC repair guy came out to look at it and said it had turned into a block of ice. We ran the fan for a full day in order to thaw it out (it’s back to normal now). I’d never heard of anything like that!
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Chicago, Tuesday, July 17th, around 9:00 p.m.: phone call from my mom. I had been waiting for a call and I knew it wouldn’t be good. And I guess maybe part of me knew exactly how not good (or good, depending on how you look at it; he was suffering a lot, after all) it would be. Dacia and I were walking down Belmont looking for food. I stepped into an alleyway so I could hear my mom better. She sounded quiet and deflated, like she had been crying but wasn’t crying at that moment.
“Hi Amber. Well… Dad died.”
What could I say but, after a big gulp of air, “Okay. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
We talked for a few more minutes. I don’t remember what all she said. I do remember he passed away at 8:20 p.m., and about six people were in the room with him at the time.
I told Dacia. We hugged. We stood there. She asked me what I wanted to do. I said, “I know it sounds bad, but I want to eat dinner.”
She rubbed my back and said, “That’s what you do when you’re alive. You eat.”
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Thanks, Dorie, for looking after our finches.
More posting to come, either really soon or not.
Another update
Just another quick post… still in Augusta, but will be heading home soon. Two hospice nurses came (as well as a bunch of people to visit my dad) and moved him into the hospital bed in the living room. He seems a bit more comfortable now.
My emotions are all over the place: sad, numb, angry, surprisingly okay, patient, impatient, resentful, disappointed, annoyed, overwhelmed, resigned, irritated, stressed, deflated, exhausted (well, that one has stayed pretty steady)… basically anything you can think of.
I am really looking forward to the Desiree Alliance conference. I’m also really looking forward to SLEEPING, and spending “alone time” with Rusty. (I don’t mean sex, although I’m looking forward to that, too; but I wouldn’t use a stupid euphemism like “alone time” for sex.)
Thanks again to others who have called/emailed since I last wrote. At the moment I feel too emotionally worn out to return calls and such (hope you understand), but I really do appreciate it.
Okay gotta go eat the onion rings Rusty got me from Burger King. Such healthy eating, I know.
Quick update
Just a quick post. I’m in Augusta, and I’m very tired. My dad came home today (as you saw if you follow my updates on Twitter). It was a really difficult experience seeing him so weak, having to be physically lifted and moved by the EMT guys (who were really great, btw). He had some visitors later… generally he seems to have a good attitude, and still has his sense of humor. But overall it is very sad. I’ve been a lot less teary-eyed this weekend than last, though I still have been on the verge of crying several times. I think maybe it’s because now we actually know what his diagnosis is, instead of being in the hospital, waiting on tests, dealing w/ incompetent interns, etc.? Maybe. I’m sure my emotions and how I cope will be all over the place, depending on the day and the situation.
I’m still going to Chicago next week. I feel kind of guilty for doing so, but I also know I need some “me” time. I’ll probably be coming to Augusta a lot more frequently. I don’t feel quite as anxious about the whole situation as I did a few days ago, now that I know he’ll be getting hospice care. I did some reading about hospice and what it encompasses, and it looks like basically they will do anything and everything you need. So now I don’t feel quite so worried about my mom (even though I am still worried, but just not on that one particular level).
If you have called, texted, emailed, sent a Twitter direct mesage or @ message, or any other form of supportive communication – THANK YOU. I really appreciate it and it means so much to me. I really want to convey my sincerity on that. I’m sorry that I probably won’t be answering everyone individually (due to time, stress, exhaustion, etc.) but knowing that there are people out there who truly do care has made a big difference. ‘Cause sometimes, well, I don’t trust people very easily and I wonder if I’m mostly “alone.” This has made me feel like maybe I’m not. And whether it’s true or not, it’s a nice feeling.
Thanks for meeting us at Waffle House tonight, Jen… that was a fun distraction. Overall keeping a sense of humor (when it’s appropriate, I mean) is very helpful for me. And so is being able to lean on Rusty. I know you’re reading this, GDBF… I love you and I can’t articulate how grateful I am.
Jenny, I’ll try to call you tomorrow. I don’t mean to add more drama, but… well, I know you’re always there (I never have any doubts about “aloneness” with you!) and your text message today made me tear up (in a good way), and I showed it to my mom and she said that was so sweet of you. If I get time tomorrow, I’ll call, and I’ll probably just want to ramble.
I still have this stupid weird feeling like if people see me writing about this they’ll think I’m trying to say I’m the only one who’s ever dealt with a parent with cancer. I know that’s ridiculous. That’s one of the things you never have to think about with an old-fashioned paper journal, for sure!
Okay, I guess that’s all for now… Rusty’s in the shower, I’m just trying to stay awake until he’s done. Tomorrow the hospice nurse is coming over at some point, and they might be delivering my dad’s hospital bed (or it might be on Sunday). Some password-protected posts will come eventually, as will a bunch of scanned old photos.
Hitting the road
We’re heading to Augusta for a few days. We’ll also be doing another excursion to small Georgia towns for photos and exploring. Not sure how much I’ll be on the computer over the next few days, but before the year is over I will put up a 2007 In Pictures post, following the meme Rusty started!
Also, remember to call 678.389.9441 if you have anything for our end-of-year podcast!
Weekend wrap-up (whew!)
Wow. What to say about this weekend?
I’m still recovering, since I’ve been going a mile a minute all day today with work stuff. But I need to try to put together some kind of wrap-up…
As mentioned previously, Friday night we hung out at the Hyatt with some fellow bloggers and their entertaining friends. A podcast resulted. (Sorry about the lackluster sound quality, but we were in a crowded, noisy bar; whaddaya want?) I’m pretty sure we were invited to an orgy. Well, it was either a thinly veiled invitation or just a statement of fact, though given the general environs I think the former is more likely.
Saturday morning I had to get up early to go get my bi-monthly haircut. After that, breakfast at Radial, and a quick trip to Junkman’s to get more appropriate attire, we were back at Dragon*Con. We participated in a panel entitled Interviews: Getting and Doing, which was part of the new podcasting track. And shockingly enough, a podcast of the panel is available by clicking the link on the panel name!
After that panel, Rusty headed home to watch football. I stayed and met up with Leann of Tag in the Seam and Laura of The Coffee and Tea Show and The Rocky Horror Podshow. They both are awesome, amazing, and hilarious, and I’m really glad we finally got to meet IRL! I also ran into Sam of The Bear’s Grove, another kick-ass GAPN affiliate.
Later that afternoon, I participated in the Women in Podcasting panel, the podcast of which should be available tonight is now available. Leann tried to persuade me to stay around for some more events and general debauchery after that, but I was so wiped out that I went home and went straight to bed.
Sunday morning we got up early and set out for Augusta, on a mission to photograph the locations of a bunch of former nightclubs from 35+ years ago. These were all clubs advertised in the 1971 magazine, “The Scene in Greater Augusta” (see Flickr set or listen to the podcast). We managed to track down most of the places we were looking for – although a few of the locations are in dispute from people who would know better than me, since they were actually alive at the time. Anyhow, it was a lot of fun, and you can see the photos here. On the way home that night, a long discussion ensued about how we love history, architecture, and especially when the two come together and include people’s personal memories and anecdotes.
Monday? Back to Dragon*Con to participate in one more panel: Podcasting Directories. The recording of that one should be up within the next few days.
Overall, the weekend was a blast. I had way more fun at Dragon*Con than I’d expected. Next year, we want to plan ahead and really do it up. (And who knows, maybe we’ll be big hotshot podcasters by then! Eh, probably not; but we’ll still throw a good hotel room party.)
Anyway… It was great to meet so many fellow podcasters this weekend. I would try to list them all, but I know I’d forget someone and then feel like an ass – so I’ll just say, you all know who you are! I would, however, like to give a special shout-out to Swoopy and Derek of Skepticality and thank them for putting together the podcsating track. I can hardly wait for next year!
Now… maybe eventually I’ll get caught up on blogging, blog-reading, etc., amid dealing with the obligations of my day job and trying to get some sleep!
Augusta artifacts
Remember the podcast Rusty and I did a few weeks ago, about Augusta nightlife in the seventies? (If you don’t remember, you’d better git yer ass over to the Georgia Podcast Network and listen to it.) Well, I finally got around to scanning some of the pages of one of the magazines we read from, so you can see the hilarity for yourself. Also, Rusty and I have plans to go to Augusta next Sunday and go around photographing the locations of the former clubs mentioned therein. Should be very interesting (to us, anyway; we’re dorks like that).