a week from today, i will be free, for it will be READING WEEK!!!! the most glorious time of the year, except for summer holidays, and winter holidays. well, at least it's still better than thanksgiving. and i really need a break right now.

operation surprise max on his birthday was a smashing success. we showed up there, holding up our "baby shower!" sign, much to his delight. ha-hah! and there he was, thinking that we'd let him sit alone at home and cut his hair on his birthday! i think not!
i got him a very elaborate 3-D card, and a book called "indian erotic art" which he seemed to enjoy. ^_^
i had two cans of coke, so i was rather hyper. :::french accent::: ah em ashamed.
actually, i think i'm rather amusing when i'm full of caffeine and sugar. i was throwing a little lizard at people's genitals all night (PETA members, fret not! it was a toy lizard. no lizards were harmed in the making of this surprise party).

for my birthday, sean and sarah, the beautiful, wonderful creatures that they are, purchased for me a mind of it's own: the cultural history of the penis.

chapters I and II mostly deal with how the penis was perceived in antiquity: in ancient greece, rome, and the middle ages in europe (at this point it is obvious that the book deals with western culture almost exclusively). nothing in this section was shocking, but it was entertaining.

chapter III dealt with white man's fear of the black penis. it went from when the first europeans explored africa, to the lynching in post-civil-war america. here things were much more thought-provoking. racism has never been a big issue in my life, so learning more about the crimes committed against blacks, in the name of various just causes, and to learn more about the psychology behind these acts... well, it was different.

so far, i was thrilled with the book. then came chapter IV, dealing with mr. penis himself - siggy freud. i didn't like this chapter too much, all it did was reinforce my feelings that freud was a crackpot (well, a cocaine-pot, actually) with mislead ideas.

but chapter V, the one i'm currently on, is giving me the most trouble. it deals with how the view of the penis was changed by feminism in the 60's and 70's. and i don't like what i'm reading.

essentially, these two decades were filled with men and women who thought that the penis was the male's weapon against women, that sexual penetration was an act of dominance, of men showing their contempt for women, and a fundamentally violent and degrading act.
now, let's be honest here. i have a bias on the issue. i look at things from a, if you will, spiritual view. and the question i have is "where's the soul?"
not one of these radical feminists or disgusting machoists seem to wonder about the human soul, about goodness, about joy, or about love. they seem to have totally separated the ideas of love and sex to the point where the two are mutually exclusive.
what about sex as an act where two spiritual equals celebrate existence by granting one another one of the finest pleasures available to mortals?

yes, there is an element of possession to sex. but saying "this is my woman" is no different than saying "this is my child" or "this is my house" or "this is my pet hampster." that which we love we must own. the exquisite thing about the relationships between men and women, however, is that it is mutual ownership. or, as i once wrote in a moment of day-dreamingness:

you are a god, and i worship you. i am a goddess, and you worship me. and we both are at once gods and pilgrims, and both supremely equal.

i'm sure i would have a different view if i had ever been raped or abused or used. or if i were not as devoutly religious as i am. but the experiences i have had lead me to the conclusion that all men and women and not men and women - we are humans. and every one of us should try to live a life that embodies what that word suggests - intellect, art, civilization, morality, empathy, and sincerity. to be human suggests that we are at once physical, mental, and spiritual beings. i think that anyone, feminists included, who tries to tell me that someone doesn't have a soul is trying to tell me lies.
and men have souls.

vega's saturday

10:30 a.m.
what i told my dad:
i was "somewhere" at "a friend's house."
what really happened:
i was at josh's place. at 2:30 we left to visit sean at rez.

3:00 p.m.
what i told my dad:
my morning plans had turned into all-day plans. i was with sean, sarah, and jeff, hanging out downtown.
what really happened:
i was with josh and sean, and they were rehearsing. at about 6:30 josh and i met max and carrie to go to josh's dad's restaurant for supper.

10:00 p.m.
what i told my dad:
i was having supper downtown. he got mad at me for being out all day and not calling enough. he made me go home.
what really happened:
i was at the restaurant. i didn't want to go home yet, so i had been planning to ask my dad to sleep over at a friend's house, but vit started being mad before i could even bring up the idea.

the reason i tell this story in this way is because i wanted to show how my lies all turned inwards upon me, until i was crushed by their weight.
the thing is, to my dad, the truth would have been no better.