I woke up today early for me, for a Saturday. Almost nine. I hung around in bed because I didn't feel uppity enough to get up. I did eventually get up and got on the computer.
I spent the day browsing things on the computer, wishing people would IM me despite my depressed away messages (silent screaming), considering going out to find people, walking to my bed and resting and crying and doing homework, and repeating. It was a sad day.
I'm saying goodbye to my hip. It's hard. I kept thinking of all I'll miss doing with my birth hip. The first time I have sex? It will be with an artificial hip. Hopefully I'll adopt it as my own, but it will never be the hip that I was born with. I keep thinking that isn't fair that my hip only had 17 years and whatever months to be with me and experience things with me. I already had my last true dance with her (I always feel her as very feminine in gender). I'm going to miss her.
I called Snoopy, and for what reason I'm not really sure. I considered calling other people but didn't. I didn't have anything to say, or I had too much to say but didn't know what, or something. I wanted someone to tell me a story.
I read one of my lesbian erotica books, and the first story I read had a happy ending with the two staying together. I started sobbing. That's what started the hip thoughts. I've had this "hip situation" since 8th grade, and it has affected almost every aspect of my life directly or indirectly. That includes dating and love and all that.
I'm so scared with it. Physically, yes--I'm the largest I've been in my life, I'm the least mobile, always have a walking implement, and my leg is cut up and blobbed in some places. I'm self-conscious of that. Emotionally, it affects me. Even spiritually. When I think of dating, my hip comes to mind almost instantly. Especially since I'm almost always expecting an upcoming procedure.
I took a shower, planned to make myself up and go out or something. I ended up sitting in front of my computer instead. When I finally got dressed, I agreed to go to Ruby Tuesdays and then minutes later declined. I didn't think I could handle going out in public.
I did eventually go up and go to Coffee House. I talked with Judy for a long time about hip replacement. It made me feel much better. She had the same doctor that I will have. I talked with Meg and Sue as well, plus Twinny and two younger girls and Ben. Many people.
Didn't listen to much music. Did my physics homework and tried not to be too sad.
Twinny came over with the two younger girls and they were all so excited to talk to me. I realized that I been gifted with the role of cool high school friend. I never thought I could be that. They talked to me about boys and friends, and how Ben liked one of them. They were amazed to find he had liked me as well. I felt so good to know that they still came to talk to me about all this stuff while knowing I'm queer and all.
One of the younger girls, whom I have often watched for she is very trendy and enthusiastic and wonderful, was particularly engaged with me. I found out she's in sixth grade. She reminds me of someone I know and am close with, but the name just isn't coming...Rawley, in a way, but someone more outgoing as well. Probably from school. Anyway, this girl was bullied. She told me some of her stories of her sixth grade experiences and they sounded so similar to my own. I told her I had been bullied and I don't know what I saw in her eyes, but I think it was good.
She saw my more punkish bracelet and told me she would bring me one she had when she went to Ferry Beach. I'm glad she's going. I think she'll have a good time, and I promised that I would introduce her to Pashi. I think she will like Pashi.
I don't want to be like the senior youth I knew when I was her age. They made me feel yucky and a nuisance and unaccepted. I want them to make sure I appreciate their presence and like hearing them. They're great people.
The two sixth graders had Mr. Pickering for fifth grade, like I did. They said that they saw a film of a class certifying vernal pools, and before they said anything else I realized it was my class 'cause Lucy's mom filmed us. Then they told me they had recognized me in the film and had screamed it out in class, that they knew me. I thought it was cute. They brought up their memories of me from when I was their age, short and a long-haired blonde girl who was ever attached and best friends with Quackie. They remember me sitting on the steps of Dean Chapel.
At the end, the two girls, Twinny (8th grade), and Ben were all circled around in front of me while I was in the chair. It was such an interesting set of moments. They saw my writing in the notebook and drooled. "It's so small!" "It's like calligraphy!" "It reminds me of an MSWord font!" They wrote things down so I would know what they wrote like. The little sixth grader who reminded me of myself drew me a picture.
I got screen names and gave mine.
When I got up and looked down, I saw a red spot and paled. I had bled onto the seat and barely noticed. Worse, I was at the end of my cycle--I was NOT supposed to be bleeding that much. It wasn't a wonder that I had felt dizzy when I had stood, then. So on top of being worried health-wise, I was worried about the stupid chair. I couldn't find an adult female who knew the church to talk about. So I went to Jake, Ann's husband, and he helped me out but I couldn't quite get the stain out. He told me he would take care of it and we flipped over the seating pad. I didn't directly say what it was from, but I knew he knew. I was so embarrassed.
Ran into CVS with the fiver Da had given me. Got Mum a funny picture with a doctor on it asking about symptoms of sleep deprivation or whatever, and said she was probably suffering from motherhood and a nap prescribed from the doctor would be best for mother's day. So I thought I'd scribble a note about knowing how much sleep she's lost over this whole hip thing, and how close we are to being through it. Also grabbed her a roasted almond chocolate bar 'cause I know she loves those. I wish I had drawn or written something for her, but since I spent the day depressed and crying I think she'll understand.
Friday was one of the best days of my life, but I'm afraid to get into it 'cause it's with Mrs. Cav and I know I say a lot about her here, but I don't want to go too far when quite a few of you have her for a teacher.