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...because who can keep up with me?

Greenstorm's Life, On Now
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See old cast lists here!
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(work in progress, obviously)

The lead: Greenstorm
Yeah, well, that's me. I'm in a state of transition right now. I used to define myself as a polyamorous gardener, but I'm not into that right now. If I were being bitter I'd say that I'm no longer into poly being used as an excuse to avoid emotional commitments, but I'm not bitter, really. So instead I'll merely say that my Zen's far too strong for me to self-define so intensely. I AM a gardener and always will be, I keep rats who I love very much and people who are free to come and go as they please who I also love very much. I'm very busy, and I find that community and interpersonal relationships are a very important part of my life, as is my relationship with my mind and body. These are what I devote my time to, as well as to gardening; naturally I am a permaculturalist, and my actions take me further down that road with every month that goes by. I'm shy and exhibitionistic by turns, relatively emotionally level for a girl or at least relaxed about my swings, relatively blunt, and fascinated by the English landuage (my mother teaches rhetoric and linguistics at a college level).

Supporting Roles:
The Lovers:
Juggler
This guy is a craftsman first and foremost. He's all about spatial and commonsense and the physical world. For years he was my amchor when I was tossed around by my own internal emotional storms, and he has been there with an utter consistency when his other commitments permitted-- that last one's the kicker, in case you're wondering. The first time I ever did something in front of someone that I couldn't do perfectly was in front of Juggler, about three years ago, when I let him teach me how to juggle. It was ther first step on the road to fixing my perfectionism, and I totally blame his consistently sensible and respectful attitude for giving me the safe space to experiment in and thus letting me get as far as I have on that. Juggler loves doing stuff and making stuff - kayaking and building MAME cabinet in old-school arcade style and juggling flaming torches or seven glowing balls. He's one of the omnipresent coder/computer guys in my life. He's a little roughed-up by circumstance right now, but still one of the strongest people I know, and he brings me so much joy.

Bob
This one's a bit of a puzzle. Generally I attract and am attracted to big geeks, but although Bob is the original big geek that the whole emo glasses style is based on, he's not a computer guy or an internet guy and he never quotes Monty Python at me. He's cheesy, often obnoxious in public, and looks ridiculously intense. He's an extrovert, which is really neat to watch-- this boy could spend twenty-four hours a day in house parties and social situations anbd thrive on it, unlike anyone else I've ever met. He's a monkey physically, one of those climbers that's been popping into my life lately, and at the drop of a hat he turns into a very convincing mommy/caretaker--- such as when he's dealing with a height-phobic girl on the other end of a climbing line. He's fearless and careful at the same time, which is a charming combination and drives a lot of play and experimentation-- where I would normally think of things and sit around contemplating them for awhile, he dives right in. I've only really known him for just over two months, though he's in the social circle through many points-- he's known Tillie and CrazyChris for years at a distance. This, and the fact that he's not in-type for me, perhaps explains why I don't really have a sense of understanding him, or perhaps that's the philosophy degree. I just enjoy.

A
New boy. So, so, so, so, so, so, so pretty. OMG. True-to-type coder with a couple of flourishes and bells and whistles. Presses all of my kink buttons at once. Shares an online background with me, more or less, which oddly enough feels like coming home culturally. Prone to little obsessions. Watches flash videos on laptop in bed. I want to hurt this boy so bad.

Graham
As charming eccentrics go, Graham's where it's at. He's all about slightly crazy projects, not physical like Juggler but self- and societal-improvement projects like learning to throw rocks, resurrecting the rhino party, or what have you. The product of a heavily feminist background, he's polite and awkward with an undercurrent of fuck-all-that-social-stuff-anyway. He has a talent for appreciating things when he stops to think about them, and he's an incredibly generous person. His sensibilities are more modern than anyone I know, post-apocalyptic/ironic, and his public face is rarely obscured or distorted by the demands of his ego. He is thoughtful, quiet, and kills baby mice with dictionaries so they don't die slowly at the paws of cats.

The Family
Brothers 1, 2, 3, & 4
Their father was a bad jew and kind of crazy, their mother an intensely depressed midwestern atheist from a catholic school. One died, sending the family into a tailspin. Like me, the remaining ones grew up on a farm far away from anything except ourselves. There was a terrible divorce. You'd expect behavioural problems, right? Well there were, in spades, and residential school for one for a year and the psych ward at the hospital for another. However-- they're growing up now, the youngest one graduating from high school and the oldest one is twenty, and tghey're fabulous people.

Brother 1 plays chess in tournaments and just finished a two-year electric bass program at VCC. He has a remarkably clear way of looking at the world, he's friendly and dependable, and I think he's letting go of his mommy role in the family. He's fun to talk to, and smart-like-math/logic in a stealth sort of way. He wins chess tournaments.

Brother 2 is a woodworker and has been for years. He loves crafting, not in the Juggler just-to-make-things sense but in the working-with-wood doing-a-good-job loves-his-tools sort of way. He keeps his chisels sharp enough to shave with-- I'm not even joking. Like all my brothers he shares my sensibilities, possibly to a greater degree than the others. This is the one I lived with for a long time, when the others went to live with their dad, and it shows. It also shows that Kynnin was a sort of surrogate father-figure for years to them, because they still listen to his computer-geek-spsudo-humour songs. Ye gods. This boy has a lot of comonsense, and he has awesome personal boundaries except where helping other people out comes in-- then he overextends himself, but he'll grow out of that.

Brother 3 I was sure would have killed himself by now, and instead he cooks amazing food and draws ridiculously detailed, gorgeous pictures and has a part-time job and has developed a fascinating, off-the-wall personality with an incredible amount of insight. They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or at least more interesting, and man is he interesting. He grew up in a household where he was intensely neglected for all of his life, and although I don't see him often, he is blossoming now into a fully-formed adult who I enjoy talking to, not because he's my brother, but because he's a cool human being.

Brother 4 serves only a walk-on part for dramatic impact; he was born and then died eighteren months later of a metabolic disease. His purpose was to make my dad crazy and my mom depressed, thus setting the stage for family drama, divorce, and neglect. He smiled all the time, even when he was starving to death with nose tubes in him and going blind, and it's through him I came to permaculkture-- to the understanding of the cycle, of the flow of things, of death to birth to death again.

I love them all so, so much that it's unreal.

The Mom
Midwestern guilt/make-yourself-useful-complex and bad guy-picking choices led to three certifiably insane husbands in a row. I should learn from this, right? Depressed and abused in her forties, my mom (I use this word with pride) got tired of it all and picked up her life. She started running at 45, and has run the Diez Vista and the Stormy and other ultramarathons. This is her second year teaching in Japan over the summer, this year she's there all by herself. She teaches English at a local college, with her specialties being rhetoric and linguistics, and is going to SFU to get her doctorate doing some research on media use among indo-Canadian families in the hopes of helping to deal with some of the violence issues there. She lives on a boat because it's cool, and is sometimes stressed but is learning her limits. She's one of those people that can win at scrabble consistently, she's a bad cook, and she does things that are scary to her all the time. IF I am half as cool as my mom when I die, I'll be so pleased.

Dad
Dad grew up in the most deeply dysfunctional family I have yet to hear about, and it shows. He's technically my step-dad, but I've been with him since I was about three, and I have fond memories of hunting ants with squirt-guns and trading backrubs while watching Captain Kirk shoot aliens and get the girl. My brother's death set off his weirdness, though, and for awhile he went through lawschool just so he could sue mom for the rest of his life. This year was a landmark one for me -- it's the first time since the divorce ten years ago that he talked to me on the phone knowing who I was without hanging up (hello, are brothers 1 or 3 there? who's calling? It's Greenie. Oh, no, they're out, but they got the message that you're moving. Thank you.) Likely dad is the reason I end up attracted to emotionally unavailable men. He's neurotic, safety-conscious to the point where my brothers couldn't do anything as children-- he was more forgiving with me --and used his religion card to try to keep us from celebrating the usual holidays without replacing them with any of his own. For awhile he filled rooms and rooms in the house to the ceiling with cheap weird stuff from garage sales and chopped wood outside and didn't speak to anyone. He's also very smart, can be incredibly charismatic when he feels like it, and has unsucessfully sued UBC for not hiring him.

The Father
It explained a lot about msyelf when I learned that my biological father, after being physically abusive to mom and leaving her so he wouldn't accidentally hurt me, went and lived in the bush in Florida for a year. He was then institutionalised at some point. I haven't talked to him, ever, though I want very much to call the number on this card he sent me when I was fifteen and mom contacted him briefly about child-support payment. I'm afraid to, though. I wouldn't know how to have a father, and I'm sure he wouldn't know how to be one. Perhaps this is why I love absence so strongly in people. I spring from a void of which I have only rumours.

The Americans
My mom is from a huge family in Iowa, and the place is full of my aunts and uncles. They've dispersed a bit, cousins have scattered, and I have a lot of family down there consequently. These people love me. The summer I turned fourteen I went down for two weeks, all loose-jeans flannel-shirts grunge-girl, and they were all slick rapper-types with sideways baseball caps who watched The Young And The Restless every day in one girl's home (the town was that small) and they loved me unconditionally anyhow. It was the first time I'd been loved unconditionally by someone who wasn't crazy or a depressed zombie, and it turned my life right around. I remember my older cousin steering the car with his knees (he was just entering the reserves) and I was dazzled by my admiration. So much love for these people.

The Jews
Because I didn't have much contact with Dad after the divorce, I didn't expect to have much more to do with his side of the damily (I have three sides of the family, see, one from each dad and one from mom) but the thing is-- the rest of dad's family is a beautiful flourishing loving group and they're not crazy, and they know dad is. Originally from Montreal, the family's thrown a couple of rootlets down here-- someone heavily involved in the Unitarian church, a couple on the Island who have two beautiful twin sons who are incandescent in their promise, just people who are generally wonderful, open, kind, and good to be around. I don't see them often, but I could if I wanted to. These are smart, with-it people, and I'm proud of them all.

The Friends
The High-School Friend
The Twin
The Best Girl Friend
The Loved Ones
The Social Cloud
The 'Net Folx

Incidental Characters:
The Audience
The Employers
The Exes
greenstorm: (Default)
Ahh, that's nice. A real subject. I suck at titles.

So, let's see. To start out we've got:

Me
Yes, well. I can't summarise myself. Anything I write will be wildly contradicted either later in my writings or in person. In a way this journal is an attempt to out all the bits of myself that are in fact wildly contradictory enough to bother and/or confuse most people. Suffice it to say this will remain the most mysterious member of the cast.

The SO
This is the SO. You can tell not only because he's labeled thus but because there will be a number of amusedly familiar daily anecdotes about him if my prediction is at all correct. He is soft and fuzzy and perfectionist and squishy and easy to hurt and amazingly tolerant. Some of those you'd think are contradictory, no? He believes the best of everyone except me and it took me quite awhile to earn that. Yes, it was one of my goals -- one shouldn't always believe the best of me, I don't always act from the best of motives (he comes in to the computer room to show me the gamethingy. He's going to be late for work) and it's kind of hard when someone does assume I'm acting from the best of motives and I'm not. Disabusing people of stuff sucks. It ends up being that much harder to get forgiveness, too. He dragged me kicking and screaming from the gates of hell and into this world full of people who care about each other and love each other. It's more than I'd ever do for another human being, I think, and he did it unconsciously and while absorbing all the scars I could inflict. Now he's starting to show those scars and we'll see if I can help him even a little in healing them. In my ideal world he'll live in the basement with his twenty-seven computers and his D&D books. I love him.

The Exotic
This is the guy I plan to settle down with in an orchard some day and raise children with. Maybe. Stuff doesn't go as predicted, but you get the idea. He has the face of an angel, a family history that has a ton of marriage and no divorce, and the most frightening case of innocence in the world. The SO is blind by moral preference. This guy... He's intense, exuberant, and has mood swings that I've never seen in a guy before -- nearly half as high and as low as mine. And, being innocent, he doesn't know how to deal with them well. I feel halfway like a mother or mentor to him sometimes, and spend the other half of the time learning about (or maybe attempting to believe) the things that he takes for granted. Extraordinary things, like the fact that people can love each other for more than ten years of their life.

The Juggler
No, I don't deserve three of them. I in no way, ever, in any sense come close to deserving anything I've got. I'm greedy for the world, though, for all it's complexity and all these amazing unbelievably beautiful people in it and somehow I'm getting a pretty big slice. If there's anything that makes me deserve it, it's the fact that I'm willing to do almost anything to extend my reach just a few more inches to capture something I see dangling there available but just outside my grasp.

But, The Juggler. This is the most recent of the three (something on the order of weeks depending on how you set the date, compared to six years and two years-ish respectively) and he's currently something of an obsession for me. He has this ability to listen to what I'm saying which is what led me to staying up till six in the morning for pretty much the last two weeks -- just talking, just my thirst to talk, or at least mostly. He juggles, he makes armour and tesla coils in his spare time, he codes, he's willing to talk to me about plants. If the Exotic has the body and face of an angel, he has the archetypical form of a Real Person,(details later. I'll start on the legs) and he has this hair... well, they all have this hair, to be honest. I expect he'll get a lot of wordspace on here in the next little bit because he's so new.

The Other Woman
The Juggler is married. To The Other Woman. The Other Woman is great, and a little bit scary -- she's a lot like me in a lot of ways and she fills an oddly shaped spot that likes companionship. It's an incredible blessing that these two come in a package deal because it just -works well- this way. I admit that one of the major reasons I think I have time for The Juggler is because of the way he deals with The Other Woman -- that is, in a nice, placid, honest, forthright manner. My SOs all have proven in some way that they have extensive experience with committed emotional relationships. That's unplanned but is something I might look into setting in stone... if I ever have more than sixteen seconds strung together to think about acquiring another. But I digress.

The Other Woman is emotional-rollercostery like me and also on the journey to self-discovery along those lines and to the self-management that surrounds that. She is more comfortably social and bouncy than I (who isn't?) and alternates between looking like some sort of radiant soft-focused classical painting and (don't cry!) a schoolteacher. She likes walking around in parks, drinking tea, talking in a self-examination/analytical sort of way, and she has let me use her garden.

The Mother
I love her. I'm a lot like her. She loves me. She's a separate person. There's a lot of love and respect, but she fucked up a couple of times. I fucked up a couple of times too. 'Nuff said? No, wait. She is my only real true anchor when I'm having trouble believing in unconditional love. When I can love other people the way she loves me I will be taken whole and perfect up to heaven there to light up the world like another sun. Really truly.

The Ambiguous Figure
This can refer to any and all of my mother's past three husbands, one of which I have never met, one of which who sired me but I don't remember, and one of which imprinted my life daily and indelibly for a Long Time. All are inside me and imprinted upon me, all form me. If I need to specify I'll say things like, my biological dad. I've been shaped primarily by striving towards love, by reaching to fill an absence, by attempting to be enough to fill myself when these people would not do it. I am stronger by them and through them I have gained whatever gifts of acceptance and understanding I have.

The Brother
There are three of these. I use the term interchangeably amongst them. More on these when I'm in a Mood.

I'm going to leave this for now because I don't seem to be able to save and I'm getting nervous at losing text. Also, the SO was supposed to leave for work ten-fifteen minutes ago and I hear bleeps coming out of the gamethingy in the livingroom.

Hmm.

No, wait!

The Garden!!!!!
This is my lifemate, my project, my confidante, and my purpose. You'll be hearing a lot about this. Definitely up there in the cast. Should be first.

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greenstorm

June 2025

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