<~11:47 pm on Friday, Aug. 22, 2003~>

burning wrath and feminist views

Well the week of hellishness has passed, leaving me to dine in the glory of the last 2 weeks of summer. Its rather depressing. Or perhaps I'm just rather depressing.

Most of this week has been spent in the grip of fear... fear of the soccer tryouts, the heat, the pain, the endlessness of it all... Its a lot easier to look back on it now and say it wasnt so bad, but during it I know I've given most anything for the week to be over with.

Its not too much fun to think back on it but I tried out with the varsity the first day, but at the end I and 2 other juniors were sorta told that we had a better chance to make the team if we tried out for jv. I kinda expected that, but I didnt realize how many freshman were trying out also. It's kinda of frustrating during tryouts... I can run and I put in so much effort and I'm determined, but I simply don't have the skills to compete with some of them. And its probably because of the fact that I started playing intramural soccer at 5 and never tried out for a travel team til it was too late. Some things are set in motion ages before you realize they add to anything.

But the foreshadowing came on Tuesday when Mr. D had a chat with the juniors about how they like to pick freshmen and sophomores for the team. They have a future on the team, and we would have to prove that we were clearly superior to make the team... otherwise it would go to the youngin's. Its basically a farm agency, getting the players that might possibly be able to go up to varsity sometime.

And thus yesterday afternoon the list was posted, and I was not among those selected. So for the first time in 12 years I won't be playing on a soccer team this season. The first time since I was 4 I wont be playing. The sound of that statement leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, as if a faraway relative was cut off for good or someone left in the middle of an interesting conversation with no reason.

I am now hoping to find some way to stay in shape, because I feel a lot better after getting out and running this week. I was the hugest blob of laziness forever and it feels good to get that out of me, I just hope I can keep it out. Tori, you have to make me come running with you sometime. Because I can't make myself run on my own, I have very little self discipline. I am now extremely paranoid of becoming that weak blob again, and am scared to eat all this junk that I eat. I just worry and do nothing. Even though today is just the day after the end of tryouts, so I guess I get a break.

As if the necessary transition was already known, I had stage crew right after (and during) tryouts yesterday. It was nice to be with friends and simply get some work done yesterday, felt good to have some release that didnt involve sitting at home being a bum. Thats the worst punishment of not making the team.. the actual physical loss. I never bonded too well with many of the ppl on the jv team, you could say. But at crew I was able to destroy things and throw away and hammer hammer hammer.

Today of course was a different story. We had crew again from 10 til 3... but by now there were less things to do and the few tasks there were didnt require a whole ton of people. Just to counterbalance my feeling of comfort and release from the day before, today was an awful day where strong bold lines of the sexism in the organization were seen, and cold arguments continued to rage, unresolved. It bothers me all the time now, how people think I can't do things and so I sit of to the side, worthless, doing menial tasks a three yr old or illiterate immigrant could do.

The crew had to take down a small steel shell and drywood wall and so 4 people were recruited to go upstairs and help. This group included Jason, Vilija, Michelle, and I. We cleared out the room and the area... worked to get it empty as possible so we could work.

While going downstairs to get some tools, Boo meets up with us and Jase asks him to help, he agrees. A little bit afterwards Jason makes a comment like "Good, now we have someone to help take down the wall."

I say, "But we have 4 people already."

He says, "No, but I mean to really tear down the wall." or something to that extent... and grr its just the whole concept of it that bugs me. All while Mr Allen was there supervising Boo and Jason would be working on getting the friggin wall down, while we stood around like idiots because they wouldnt let us help... and its not even like it was that hard, it was using a drill gun to take it apart. But grrr I get so frustrated and mad I can't think straight enough to come out with words that explain what I'm feeling. The guys on crew are just arrogant bastards who have big ego problems, and have to do everything themselves. The girls are regularly subjected to doing pointless bullcrap tasks and they don't even care. How can you just sit back and watch this happen and not have the slightest emotion stir in you? It rattles me to the bone, I can't stand how society is. Its society's fault for putting us where we are. Its not that we can't so things such as build and take those things apart, its that no one gives us the chance to learn because of who we are. We are seen as too weak or something, handed a paint brush and told to dip and flick the wrist. Wow. Thrilling. Amazing. Painting, sweeping. It all sucks. I am not being their bitch to sweep up their messes and paint stupid crap that they never paint. Do it yourselves you selfish bastards. Couldnt let us help with the actual work? Guess we can't help with the stuff you never want to do either. We hate it to ya know, but we are asked to do it, so we do it. We don't have a choice.

I really think we need to get a home gym, or I should take some martial art or kickboxing classes. Anything. My 40-some pushups at home don't really do anything to help. I have to excel, to show them I'm not too weak, I'm not too small. I'll kick their asses one day and they'll be wishing they never did unto me what they did. I shall have my vengence, each dog has her day.

Until then I will wait, sometimes silent, sometimes raging... fire inside of me, hoping not to explode. Trying not to. Not yet, the time needs to be right, my supernova. Not yet.

And I need a place to scream. I want to scream right now, I did on the phone, almost did at school... this makes me constantly angry that I can't undo the 50 thousand year old gender roles in society. Its just impossible.

And the other problem is that I will not ask for help, I will not admit that I need help from that scum which suppresses and hates and uses and abuses us. I will never go so far as to admit any sort of dependency; I'd much rather die falling down the stairs and breaking my neck.

But grr I can never place in words very well how I feel on this matter. Sorry about that angry rant, I just can't feel better no matter what I do.

And so I run away and hide in my world... until its time to come out again.

I got in a big argument with Rufo over this. I don't know what exactly my whole anger is about, its just a huge rage that goes out of control when touched and is best to be kept away locked inside, safe from the reach of other people. Animal will bite, keep hands out.

Its almost as tho I wish I had a tape of everything we said, maybe I could see from his side a little better, but it doesnt change anything. Its not because of menial things like what part of the year it is or who's been on crew longer, or who's talkative. It comes down to that same line that walks through everything everywhere in the world. Sometimes people are polite and try not to talk about it but here that difference can't be ignored and so I am left to feel like completely worthless shit for all the help I can give. Maybe I should take a few sprints around the school before each work session. Anything.

And maybe guys should stop being ignorant assholes. Oh, but wait, they can't. Because thats just how they are. And they are so full of themselves, they have to be so great and macho and strong and can't give up the opportunity to once againnnn prove they can do something to someone who doesnt even matter. Who the hell cares. Let me have a goddamn chance once in awhile, to show that I'm not a weak sex object made for sweeping and painting at stage crew, looking pretty for whenever u masterbate, and then making babies once i get old and married, and cook and clean and die. I am not destined this awful road down to death, no matter how often thats what happens. It can't be changed in general no matter how much I want it too, but at least maybe I can have a chance to change these roles for myself.

It's kinda sad to think that only up until a hundred years ago we were just property. Well guess what bastards? I ain't just property no more and I'm getting back what you stole from me and generations before me. I am searching for dignity and independence, and you don't need to give it to me. Believe me, I'll find it for myself.

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