Most people wouldn’t think of grad school as being fun times, but they were. Our department was big on Halloween and held a party every year. My friends and I were the bridal party from hell, as you can see here. I think I found the most hideous of the bridesmaid dresses, if I do say so myself. Another friend kindly took our picture. Happy Halloween!

…this song is dedicated to you. It’s called “Take It Off” by The Donnas. (This post has been updated at mamazilla‘s request to include a picture of me from the old (original) EXIT days when I danced in a cage on Bondage a Go-Go Nights, circa 1991. I did not actually “Take It Off” — that was at Berlin, back when they had Women’s Obsession Nights dedicated to lesbians and featuring well, me — “Manila Monroe.” )

Lyrics below, courtesy of Plyrics.com
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Several bloggers I know have written posts similar to this one. It’s been mainly women bloggers writing these and marking them private, which is understandable. Past lovers are listed, the situation(s) described, and maybe a note written to the person telling them what they think of said person now.

I’m not going to write a similar post because there’s no way I’d be able to remember how many men I’ve slept with, and it isn’t just because of the ECT. There were plenty: several one-night stands, “play dates” with guys who already had girlfriends, you name it. Even if I could remember the exact number, I’d need more than just my fingers and toes to count all the guys.

Most of this happened between the ages of 20 and 23. Go ahead and call me a slut. I suppose I was. All of this occurred before I was diagnosed with bipolar and borderline personality disorders (BPD) in 1994, when I was 24. One of the DSM-IV criteria for BPD is this:

4. impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

(All the criteria can be found here.)

Once I was in treatment and on the proper medication, this behavior stopped. Before that, I had the idea in my head that the more men I slept with, the more attractive I was. I grew up with both parents telling me I was ugly, and especially that my lips were too big. In Mrs. Monahan’s eighth grade reading class, this guy Mike drew a picture of a giant pair of lips with a teeny, tiny body attached to it and wrote my name on it. This drawing was passed around, and as you can imagine, elicited many snickers and “furtive” looks my way. I saw the picture. I did nothing about it.

To this day, I am very self-conscious about my lips, but at least I only have sex with my husband.

They’re really hard to find. Especially good ones. I know this to be true, because I used to be a drummer, and bands were always looking for one. I was a much better drummer than a goalie (for now!), but just over a week ago, I was asked by another team (equivalent to our Blue team) to sub in their game tomorrow night. Since they aren’t playing against us, I agreed in order to get as much game situation experience as possible.

I was forthcoming with my coach and teammates about this. My own team’s game this weekend isn’t ’til Saturday, which I can still play in, but we all agreed to give our back-up goalie a chance in the net. This means that for tonight’s practice and Saturday’s game, I will once again be playing right wing.

However, a few nights ago I received an e-mail from the other team to say they no longer need me on Friday. I notified my coach and our back-up goalie to see if I could play the net this Saturday, but we had already agreed otherwise, and fair’s fair. I’ll admit that I’m a little disappointed that I won’t be playing goalie for my own team this weekend, but it’ll be fun to play my old position, though I’m very much out of practice. Still, I surprised myself and did all right at the pre-season scrimmage, so it should be fun.

Some of my old winger highlights include scoring a goal against Bowling Green in the first game of my first season at Ohio State back in 1999. Brian had just walked into the game as I scored–we weren’t quite dating yet, and I was surprised that he showed up! I think I may have only played one other game as a forward. At least the one I remember was playing Michigan against whom I got a shot on goal! I didn’t score, but it was Michigan! They’re really, really, REALLY good, and my team played at an even lower level than Tigers Orange! Most of our team members had never even worn skates before! Well, the Ohio State club team’s a completely different story now.

Anyway, I guess this is all a testament as to how well I’m really doing. I should remember this when I begin to feel down and depressed (like right now). I mean, it wasn’t all that long ago that I could barely even make it out of the house, let alone skate.

I wasn’t allowed to go trick or treating until I was eight years old. Before that, we lived in the city and my parents were absolutely convinced that I would end up with poisoned candy or an apple with a razor blade inside it. Talk about excessively overprotective. By the time I turned eight and my parents were expecting their second child, they bought a house in the suburbs.

I’ll never forget my first time trick or treating. I went with the neighbor boy, Alvin, and I was wearing one of those cheap costumes–you know the kind–the plastic, one-piece type that you step into and tie at the back of the neck, and the mask that comes with a weak piece of elastic that’s stapled to each side of the face. I was Spider-Man! (Yeah, I’ve always been a tomboy. Can you tell?)

It was so cold that I had to wear my winter coat over my costume so unless I had the mask down, you couldn’t even tell who/what I was. On top of that, it was pouring rain, so of course I had to wear my hood. Despite the awful weather, I had the time of my life! I was maybe 13 when I stopped trick or treating, but every year that I went it was always raining.

Today, though it’s a little chilly out there, it’s bright and sunny, and for a Halloween, it’s a gorgeous day. I hope the kids have a great time. I’m also relieved that we live in an apartment, so we don’t get trick-or-treaters. I’m too fucking lazy to get up to answer the door every time it rings. :[