Tuesday, September 21, 2010

"Don't be a pussy"

I don't like things that I don't understand. And I don't understand the saying, "Don't be a pussy." It's the last word that really confuses me. It could be cat. It could be vagina. To find out I went to work one day back in Camarillo where it's mostly Mexican guys and we talk sex and toilet humor all day to pass the time.

One day one of the guys couldn't get the tire off this one wheel and from across the back room someone calls out, "Ahaha what a pussy, can't even get the tire off."

That was my chance so I said, "Yeah what a cat." They all looked at me. They looked at each other without moving their heads.

"Did he just say what a cat? That's wack. Fuckin Brian. Ha Ha," they said.

I determined it wasn't cat. So I waited for the next opportunity to use vagina.

A little later someone else was trying to get the spare tire out of a car and it was all rusted in there. It wouldn't come out. From across the room you could hear them calling out, "Lets go you fuckin pussy."

So I said, "Yeah, let's go you vagina."

"Did he just call him a vagina? I think he did. That's strong language. Fuckin Brian. HA Ha," they said.

It didn't seem to be cat or vagina. So the next time they said someone was a pussy I asked them why. What did they have in common with a vagina, I asked. The answers were basically synonyms. The answers regarded a perceived softness of character that was fearful and delicate, easy to hurt, weak, frail even.

It started a thought in my head. I recognized a certain anti-woman thing going on here. They insisted "don't be such a pussy," was the same as, "Don't be such a woman," because they thought women were fearful and delicate, weak, easy to hurt and etc. I asked them if the opposite was true, that someone who was tough, fearless, strong, difficult to hurt, healthy was a penis.

Their demeanor changed. They all looked at each other, afraid. Afraid to respond first maybe? It took me a little while to figure out what was going on. And then I did. I had entered queer territory. I had said, "penis." If they followed it with, "yeah," then they might seem gay to their friends. So there they stood, immobilized by fear of being thought gay. That's when I figured why they were quick to denounce women, talk about meaningless sex, make fun of each other by joking about homosexuality and call each other pussies. The reason they were acting in a hyper-masculine way was because deep down they were afraid of gayness. (of all the things to be afraid of!) I chalked it up to Machismo, and figured it was a cultural thing, or at least an environment thing.

I don't talk that way, but I see the allure of it, to brag and boast about sex and women and conquests and all of it. I understand why they do it. I also understand why I don't. I'm comfortable in my hopeless-heterosexuality, so comfortable that I don't need their verbal pats on my back to boost my ego. Who cares? I certainly don't.

But back to the topic, if the insult about pussy is interchangeable with women and vagina than that leads to some interesting things doesn't it? When you think of vagina, do you think of weakness? I certainly don't. A Vagina seems strong to me. Maybe I think that way because I have a penis and I know it's not all it's cracked up to be. I can separate the myth and mystique, so to speak, from the reality.

For instance I know that the slightest graze of a ping pong ball across my penis can drop me to the floor into fetal position because of the shock of pain. You could argue that maybe I have a sensitive penis and therefore I can't apply this situation to other men. But I would argue I have seen many men drop from the passing graze of a ping pong ball, or a cell phone, or keys, or a softball (those aren't that soft by the way.) And conversely I have seen women take worse punishment to their vagina and not even express discomfort. For example, in 8th grade I hit a softball directly into this girl's vagina. (not deliberately) It worked like a catchers glove stopping the ball, which she bent down to pick up and throw back to home plate where I was standing. I was mouthing the words, "Are you ok?" when I was tagged out. She was ok, a few weeks later when I caught a soft ball in a similar way I was down and out for five minutes.

Women have a higher pain tolerance than men, or at least that's what I have read a long time ago. But the test they used was kinda, well, weird. They inflicted pain on men and women and recorded at what point they said ow. Men said ow first, so they say that men have a lower pain tolerance, I am ok with that being true. But I wonder if there is a maximum pain and if men or women can handle more. I have seen men and women get hurt and men usually are more vocal about it than women, even though they might experience the same amount of pain. Does that make sense? I'll never know because I am not a woman so I can't compare two equal pains back to back.

They say that you call someone a pussy if they are soft, or girly. But if you are a heterosexual male isn't a soft vagina ideal? It just doesn't make sense. Especially when you think about all the things vagina can do. Any porno film can show you that a vagina can take an extreme amount of abuse, the penis by contrast is returned limp, spent, soft and delicate. The vagina can still take more, the penis cannot. And yet the vagina is still the weak one some how, as though the soft, delicate, and sensitive penis is somehow manly because men say it is. And lets not forget that a vagina can pass a baby through itself. It's just you got to give credit where credit is due is all I'm saying.

So the saying don't be a pussy doesn't make sense, and you should take it as a compliment because it means you are strong, versatile, and all the heterosexual men will do anything to be with you.

I guess that's all. It's been bothering me for awhile. I finally wrote it down, though I don't know if it makes sense to anyone but me.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Another day another omelet

Hi, welcome to Kalamazoo Michigan where I am in Ma's basement where it is currently 18:13:52:52 Brian's move-out standard time.

Autumn is coming. For the first time in a long time instead of being uncomfortably hot it was uncomfortably cold, I guess that's how you know in this place.

In a few weeks the trees start changing color. I haven't seen it, but I hear it is quite impressive, and that people come from all over to see it. I was telling my Michigan friends what autumn is like in California. And if you are from Cali you know, but for those who don't it is hard to distinguish from the other seasons. Its not as hot, or isn't supposed to be as hot. So lets say the temperature on average is a little lower, but still pleasant and enjoyable. They asked me about trees. Maybe this would work better in dialog?

"Whats southern Cali like during the autumn?"

"Its like the other seasons: nice."

"Is it colder?"

"I'd say not as hot."

"Do the trees lose their leaves?"

"Not really. There are lots of pine and oak trees where I live and they stay green most of the time. Now, there is this one apricot tree down the road that changes color and does the autumn thing. That's usually the only way I would know."

"Does it snow?"

"No. Maybe in the mountains if it gets cold enough and rains, both of those are kind of rare though."

"Huh. Weird."

"Maybe."

New topic

So, in case I forgot, I installed the new transmission for Loo. Total cost: 600 bucks, or about 3,500 less than if it had been done by a professional. I felt like... well, it's complicated.

(See I knew what was involved with it before I started; I knew I would be on my back, on the asphalt, laying under the car for about ten days, three of which I would have to work all day, but nobody else knew what was involved. If you don't work on cars you don't know what it's like. To reach up through the center member with one hand and use your other hand to pass a wrench to the first hand to use on a rusted nut. To feel your greasy hand slip on the wrench, to know that if the rusty nut breaks free your fist will smash into the stamped metal flange of the firewall and cut you across the knuckles. To also know there is no other way to loosen it so you push and push and hope the nut gives way easily, but no, it takes all your strength to break it free and you punch the flange and cut yourself across the knuckles anyway. For the rest of the job that cut, and all the others, heal, break open and seal and reopen. It will get the car's life fluids in it, and you will recognize them by feel. The acidic burn of break fluid, the anti-bacterial sting of transmission fluid, the way metal filaments in motor oil grind their way between the two sides of an open wound, the sticky tingle of coolant turning your scabs into soggy bread that slough off like snot on your hand. Every wound will find the sharpest edge of every part of the car, despite your caution you will still gouge, slice and stab yourself in the rawest places. It will reach the point that you will look at your hand covered in red transmission fluid and blood and not know which is which and not care, so long as you aren't bleeding too much that it requires inch-worming out from under the car to stop the bleeding. Besides, transmission fluid is a detergent, kills germs. You will be using muscles you didn't know you had to turn wrenches in twisted positions. The wind will blow dirt into your eyes, which you can't rub or you'll put the stuff on your hands into your eyes. That would make it worse, and it would burn. So you just blink and blink, or forgo sight and feel your way to the bolts. Sight is an overrated sense anyway.)

I'm not sure what I am trying to say here. I'm not trying to lord over you, that I can do stuff you can't do and I am a real manly-man because I can do these things and you can't. That isn't it at all. It's just under appreciated is all.

If I had a poignant thing to say about this it isn't coming tonight.

New topic.

There is no food in this house besides eggs, spices and the big bag of boneless, skinless chicken breasts I bought a couple weeks ago. I been making omelets and eating them. I am getting really good at it. The only pot that works for it is a small teflon skillet. Omelets end up thick and fluffy and full of spicy chicken.

It was difficult for me to cook for me and me alone because my whole life I have had family dinners. But after I experienced how much of a chore it is to get people together enough to share a meal, and how unappreciated it was I stopped. They can eat their Kraft macaroni and cheese in several individual saucepans. I'll keep at the omelet. It's a good, filling, tasty meal. My omelet appreciation is a new thing. Growing up I disliked them because sometimes when Dad made them the center was runny like snot and it made me sick to my stomach and I lost my appetite. He tried to get it right but I was too damn picky. Now I love those things. Breakfast, lunch and/or dinner an omelet will do you good.

New topic.

I will be replacing Loo's worn out front suspension on her car. After only 191,526 miles they finally wore out, can you believe that? I was afraid it would cost about 500 bucks or so to buy all the parts, but I found a kit on eBay for $93 that had all I needed and than some, so... go me. I should be doing that tuesday-ish. We shall see.

time for bed.

"Another day, another death/ another sorrow, another breath."
--Metallica "No Remorse"

Another day closer to moving out.

I think I shall make an omelet to celebrate.

[18:11:38:01]

Thursday, September 2, 2010

28:13:47:30

Days:hours:minutes:seconds until I leave this place, but who is counting? Me silly.

Today I worked from 7:30 ante meridiem to 6:30 Post meridiem and then came home to shower and go see a movie with Beans. We saw The American with George Clooney and a bunch of Italian people I never heard of before. I liked it. The people behind us though, not so much.

"It's slow, but boring," she would say. She would say it five more times. In between those she would say this, "I wish there was some dialog so I could follow whats going on." Truth be told there was dialog, expertly written and acted. The key word there would be 'subtext' you know when an assassin makes bullets puts them in a cookie tin and calls them candy they aren't really candy. The people behind us missed that though. They kept blabbing and blabbing until there was a steamy sex scene. They shut right up for that. Maybe if the movie was all sex scene they would enjoy it more, but add some dialog so they could follow what's going on though. We don't want to confuse the poor people. Sex movies with dialog, maybe some music... If only someone would have thought of that already.

Tomorrow I'll be installing the new transmission. I have all day to do it because I am work free that day. It will be a lot of work. All told I think I have about 3 full days invested into the transmission to date. Tomorrow will be four. Saturday Loo returns from her vacation--

I have a concern. And by concern I mean fear because 'concern' was just a euphemism to hide the true level of my fear.

The next semester of college starts up again for Loo next week. I am afraid that Loo will be too busy for me, even more so because I'll be out of the house. In other words I'll be somewhere else, which would require effort to visit making me that much easier to blow off and ignore. :-( "I can't come over, got this homework to do. You understand." And I will. And then we will drift further and further apart until we are strangers wondering what we ever saw in one another. And we'll split up and six years will be for naught.

or

The next semester will make Loo too busy for me so she will try to make time for me on the weekends or after she completes homework. She will realize how easy it is to blow me off and work hard not to, she'll recognize this is a make or break phase and make it, solid like the surface ice on the Europa moon, which is like granite.

or

New topic

My iPod broke awhile back, two or three weeks ago. I left it in the car and it got too hot and it now only works for about half a song before it turns off. In reading the warranty information it says not to do that because the heat will kill it.

I didn't realize how much I like listening to music until I couldn't anymore. Running, cleaning, mowing that god damn lawn... all of it I use to listen to music while I did them. Now I have to listen to whatever it is I'm doing and that can be a drag. Running not so much because the music while running is a new thing, normally I am without that. But the other stuff. Ugh. Imagine mowing a lawn for two ours listening to the engine fluctuate it's speed based on the grass it rolls over. Mind numbing.

So I searched my car for music on CD to listen to because my car's CD player works great. I found a CD of Mike Snow that Loo's brother left. There are two songs on that album that I can [the space between tolerate and like] but after a week of it I was becoming annoyed. So I searched for another disc and found Beautiful Garbage and listened to that for a week but its only got a few songs I enjoy the others are too redundant and pop/dance sounding. My problems are compounded by the fact that my computer works great in all respects save one, the ability to burn a CD. That broke a month after the applecare wore off.

Long story short I been pulling my macbook out more and playing the music from it's speakers which has renewed my enjoyment of my music. Currently I am on a Metal kick, Metallica, Tyr, Megadeath, Hammerfall, and a new group called Brocas Helm (with one particularly awesome song you can hear here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SO2poJAaE_I).

My eyelids are getting heavy so I think I'll call it a day.

I just finished Invisible Monster by Chuck Palanhiuk, the first of his books I have read. I liked it a lot. I look forward to the others, Fight Club, Choke, Diary and anything else.

Night!
28:13:06:23