A Glorious Festival of Love, Run by a Man Full of Hate

I thought long and hard about this post. I did not know if I was going to post it. But after careful consideration, I decided that it would be therapeutic to me, and that I couldn’t stay quiet.

While all of this was unfolding, my boyfriend chuckled and looked at me, “I’m sorry, but I think you came dangerously close to joining a cult.” I burst into tears. This hurts so badly, this hurts the community that I met, the community that I know exists outside of DAB’s hate.

I’m a three year attendee of Evolvefest, and each of the three years I had absolutely the time of my life. The first year, I camped next to a woman and her mother in law, who ended up teaching me how to hoop – three years later I’m still a piss-poor hooper, but I had an absolute blast.  The first year, there was also a blue moon the first night, and while most of the tribe was at an event – I stumbled into a drum circle which lasted for hours.  I danced my feet off, even though I had been planning on attending that blue moon ritual I found a perfect spur of the moment ritual and I regretted nothing.  That was also the year that during a concert, an Evolver who I had not met, passed away.   The outpouring of energy was amazing.  I’d simply never felt anything like it.  The fact that this was a community that embraced all the energies of life and death and joy and sadness, made me a total Evolvefest convert.  There was no where else I would rather be.  So, of course I attended the following year.  That year I spent one glorious evening in the naked city with the YNA, throwing water balloons at people that wouldn’t join us.  I spent the next morning at a naked yoga class, and spent one afternoon dancing barefoot in the rain.   My last Evolve was slightly less fun, because I got attacked by one of my migraines, and I had to leave early because I simply wasn’t getting what I wanted to out of the experience.  However, I still attended some classes with the brilliant Becca Pati and came home and joined a yoga studio for real, because I was physically inspired to be better.  Basically, I loved me some Evolvefest.

My experiences with David Bryson, the man who runs Evolvefest were a little hit or miss.  The first year, I remember joking that he looked and dressed like he wanted to be Jesus, all in white, all three days, usually with a tail of people.  However, I really enjoyed his workshop that year about numerology and the Bible.  A lot of it went way over my head, but it felt right.  By the time between the second Evolve I attended and the third, however, I was pretty convinced that DAB was starting to get a little fringe in the “bad” kool-aid sense.  When the posts on the Evolvefest page started taking a turn for the conspiracy theory, I got immensely turned off.  I distanced myself from the Facebook page, because I just found it offensive that people believed that the tragedy at Sandy Hook had been staged.  Instead of sending love to those who lost in the tragedy, we were sending suspicion and making their lives even more painful.  I still loved the event and still wanted to go, I just knew that I needed to stay distant from the man himself.

Anyway, at the end of the month of January, through the Evolvefest Facebook, DAB posted this in response to the news that Bruce Jenner may be transitioning to female:


At that point, I was absolutely horrified.  That a festival where I was loved and accepted for exactly who and what I am, that a festival who touted no judgement for anyone, could spew such hate.  I was taking a few days to think on it, and had decided that I would no longer be attending Evolvefest, because I couldn’t stand the idea that any of my money would go to support a man who was using the platform to spread hate.

This is when I found the Boycott Evolvefest Facebook page.  This was when I realized the extent to which the hate had been spread on the ideals of love and acceptance.  The community that had attended Evolvefests past would not stand for it.  Fellowship Farm, where Evolve has been being held has stated that they will no longer be taking DAB’s business.  YNA has spoken out against him, as have numerous festival pages.

DAB has also been deleting comments on the Evolvefest pages from people that speak out in disagreement of his opinions, even though he then posts things about freedom of speech, simply showing his hypocrisy.

WHAT HYPOCRISY

It almost physically hurts me that a festival that I gathered so much positive energies from can be run by a man who has so much hatred in his heart.  And it hurts harder that he is now using that festival as a platform to spread that fear and hatred.

 

What follows are just a few screencaps from the Evolvefest Facebook page:


…errrrr… Whatnow? 


Seriously, how much hate can one man try to pin on a festival of love? 


The answer is, a lot.

And just to tie this all together, it appears that DAB is still accepting money for tickets even though they do not have a festival grounds or most of their attendees.  He is also deleting any questions of this fact.  And then I found what follows on some of the Declines on the Evolvefest 2015 event page.  I do not know who Anthony is, or how he is affiliated with Evolve, or DAB, but how horrible, if this is true?  Thank the Gods I had not yet purchased my ticket.

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Get Sick, Stay Sick: the Joys of Senior Care

Gorram it, today was the first day since last Sunday that I went to work without cold meds in my system and now I feel like crap again.

Working in Senior Care is such a weird mixture of needing to go into work because they likely won’t be able to find coverage at short notice, and doing A.M. or P.M. care for a department with a short staff sucks hard, and needing to stay home so that you don’t risk getting any of the residents sick.

Lucky for me, I just have a really shitty cold.  You know what that means?  My boss is more or less begging me to come in, at least to finish A.M. care.  Oh, I’m sorry did I say “lucky”?  What I really meant was “fucking shittily.”

So I’ve been feeling crappy since Sunday night.  I’ve worked Monday, (Tuesday is my regular day off) Wednesday, and Thursday basically stoned off my ass on a combination of Dayquil, Sudafed, and Aleve.  Friday, the meds didn’t work.  I mean, the first thing a co-worked said to me on Friday morning was:

“Wow, you look like shit.”
“Aw, good morning to you too.”

I pushed through all of A.M. care, Friday before I went home at approximately 11am.  By noon I was in bed, I got up a few times to eat, drink water and pee.  I didn’t get up again until 6:10am when my alarm went off.

Oh, right, it’s my weekend on, fucking fabulous.  When I went home on Friday my boss begged me to come in and do the same thing Saturday so that I wasn’t leaving my co-workers high and dry, and of course I’d get paid Sick Leave for the hours of my shift I didn’t finish.  I told her as long as I didn’t spike a fever or start throwing up, I’d do it.  Saturday I was feeling better – at least the Aleve and Sudafed were working (I had even cut the Dayquil from my cocktail)!  But, I left at 10:30am just because I didn’t want to push it.

Today I woke up feeling good.  It was pretty spectacular.  I didn’t have cold medication in my system for the first time in a week.  By noon, I felt like crap.  Okay, I didn’t feel like crap, I was just exhausted.  It felt like I had been awake for days.  I should have called my boss who was on duty today and gone home, but I’m a stubborn son of a bitch.  Tonight, I feel like crap.  I can’t breathe and my nose hurts from blowing it a few times today.  Oh, and I tried to take a nap when I got home and I couldn’t sleep because the fucking congestion kept waking me up.

All in all:

fuck being sick and fuck needing a pay check

Lucky me, I only have one more day of work before a day off – though I was hoping to enjoy this one, since I was sick on my last day off too.

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Yes, he’s a dork, but Evan makes me so very happy.

On the second half day in a row due to illness, I get a text message that makes me smile.

"I saw an e-reader and remembered that I love you."

Dear Everyone,

How the fuck did I not know that The New 52 Batwoman is a lesbian?  Fucking awesome.

Love,

A Batgirl fan

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Happy Banned Books Week!

Unbeknownst to me, Banned Books Week began yesterday.  If I had known, I would have planned a week of bloggish things.  So, here’s just a quickie for today.

I scoured the ala lists of challenged books and used my memory of lists of banned books that I’ve seen over the years, and then I poked through my shelf of unread books and decided on two for the week.

In honor of Banned Books Week, I’ll be reading:

Looking for Alaska, by John Green

image yanked from here.

John Green in one of my favorite authors and a more modern addition to the lists of books that are challenged or banned.  I’ve read most everything he’s written except for some reason this one, and this is the award winning one – it is strange, even to me.

Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison

Toni Morrison is another one of those authors that I adore, and yet have not yet read her most critically acclaimed work.  I actually had to look pretty hard for a copy of this book, which truly surprised me, considering that she’s a Nobel Peace Prize winner in Literature.  All of her books were easy to find, except this one, which I really truly was searching for.


I also picked these two books for their range.  One young adult book written by an average middle aged, middle class, nerdy, white dude; and one adult prosaic book written by an older, fiery, Nobel peace prize winning African American woman.  Both are authors that are often banned, but for vastly different reasons, and yet they both appeal to this reader.

So embrace the variety that banned books bring.  Embrace their message.

READ ALL THE BANNED BOOKS.

…And now I nap.

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I Love Pumpkin Everything!

Well, it’s been far too long since my last post.  I’m a bad Aryn.  I’ve been missing blogging recently, so I cleared off my desk, I do so hate working in a cluttered environment, and here I am!

With (WHOA, what?  The equinox isn’t until) Tuesday (?!) being the official start to autumn in the northern hemisphere, the season of pumpkin-flavored-everything has begun.  To kick it off last night, I made a One-Pot Creamy Pumpkin Pasta, courtesy of Kitchen Treaty.  Recipe here.

And here’s my experience of it.

First I made a few changes.  My best friend gave me a bunch of fresh sage, so I sliced it to ribbons and tossed it in because I have no idea what else I would do with fresh sage.  I also doubled the recipe, because I live with my 6 foot 3 boyfriend who doesn’t understand the phrase “portion control.”

Second of all, I hate that prep time never includes getting stuff out of cabinets or the fact that I cut onions slow as damn molasses.  So, technically the prep time was only 10 minutes.  To be fair, that’s probably how long it took me to cut up the onions.  But getting everything else out and prepping the parsley and the wine and all the spices and the sage (which of course was added time) took me much closer to 45 minutes.  I do like to take my time in the kitchen.

Continue reading

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Adventures in Moving and Keratosis Pilaris

I’m baaaack.  You all can’t get rid of me that easily.  I have good and bad events that have been all-consuming and sue me, there’s nothing geeky about this post, but anyone who feel self conscious about their skin will relate to the bad.

It’s been a crazy month: absolutely insane, actually.  Approximately two weeks before the end of March, Evan and I started apartment hunting.  Our first stop was a place called Princeton Arms, their one-bedrooms were right in our price range.  We got to look around one of their empty apartments.   Turns out it had been empty since January, but because of all the goddamned snow no one’s been able to flip apartments.  It was perfect.  Princeton Arms is a big apartment complex, so everything was was in good working condition, and the apartment was a back-facing unit and behind the complex is a nature reserve, so we’d always be looking at wild life and have basically a back yard.  We moved in April 1.  It’s amazing.  I have Dexter and Mona Lisa CMKY coasters as well as a Tardis projection alarm clock.  I have a signed Roger Dean octopus on my wall and a self portrait of my father from many years ago.  Evan’s father bought us a wide screen television.  Really what we’re missing is a couch.  It’ll come with time.

So that’s the good.

Now comes the bad.

A few days after move in, my self-diagnosed Keratosis Pilaris started acting up.  Usually, this presents itself as a handful of flesh-colored bumps on the back of my upper arms and some small acne-looking bumps on the top of my back; it doesn’t itch, it doesn’t hurt and it usually resolves itself by ignoring it.  Of course, it is brought on by stress.  I haven’t really had an outbreak since July, and then it appeared a few days after the move.  It didn’t just appear on the back of my arms and upper back.  It is all over my arms, my legs, my back, fuck, even on my stomach.  Every single pore appeared to be raised.  It was fucking horrible.  I was self conscious insanely, so I started poking around the internet.  It turns out that what it is is that my skin doesn’t exfoliate itself properly, so the skin that dies drys up and builds keratin plugs, creating bumps.  Treatment is exfoliation and a crap load of moisturizers.  Because it was so bad, I was using Benadryl’s cream to keep myself from itching.  So I decided to buy the oral Benadryl to take before bed, figuring it would be more effective.  I had an allergic reation to it.  My left eye swelled up.  Fucking great, right?  It took it three or four days for that to heal itself: beautiful face peeling included.

One of the moisturizers I saw recommended again and again for KP was Amlactin, it’s got 12% some acid thing, so it exfoliates as it moisturizes.  So I gave in and bought some.  $25 for a normal sized bottle.  It says to use it twice a day.  For $25 a figured it better fucking work.  I think I over treated my arms because I’m simply always looking at them.  I basically burned away the top layer of my skin.  Go me.  For days I’ve looked like I got a really bad sunburn.  My arms were swollen, itchy, and bright red.  So I switched back to Vaseline’s aloe soothe moisturizer.  Yesterday my arms started to go down in swelling, my hands are still swollen which looks worse than it did, but only because now my arms aren’t swollen also.  Today my arms were shedding.  I’m like a goddamned lizard.  It’s gross.  However, once my arms are exfoliated with a loufa, they’re smooth like a baby’s butt.  They’re finally less red, as well!  Hooray!  Thank the fucking gods.  Because I need my arms to not look like this in two weeks when I’m a bridesmaid at my BFF’s wedding – I’d die of embarrassment.

“Dear Skin Bumps, you better be gone or flesh colored again by the 26th, damn it.”

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Four Crazy Years

After four years with the boif we took our first “real” vacation on our fourth anniversary.  Sure, we’ve gone to his family’s summer home, which I utterly adore – but this is the first vacation that we’ve had to plan everything from how to arrive to where to sleep to what bars to visit.  It was amazing.

Saturday, after work at 3pm, I changed into “travel clothes” (read: jeans and a wife beater) in the parking lot, and drove up to Evan’s house, about an hour of a drive.  At 4pm I arrived at his house.  Moments afterward, his father drove us to the train station where after a quick grab of a cup of coffee, we boarded the 4:42 train into New York City.  We got to NYC just before 6, and arrived at the Downtown Hilton Garden Inn right around 6pm.  It gave us a few hours to *ahem* nap before we had reservations around the corner.  Of course, I decided that after a day of work I needed a beer, so we stopped at the hotel’s bar.  AOA.  My beer, made by Evil Twin, was a Biscotti stout: fucking delicious.

After … napping and a shower, around 9pm we walked to the restaurant where we had 9:30 reservations that had been made three weeks prior.  Ninja NYC.  This event will be a post of it’s own.  Stay tuned.

Sunday was our “big” day in the city.  We got up around 11am, and got to the Matilda box office to rush the show.  Sadly, we did not win the lottery, and I didn’t want standing room, so we went to Guy Fieri’s restaurant, which happened to be across the street.  This will also likely have it’s own post, so continue to stay tuned. Our afternoon ended at the MoMa, which will definitely have it’s own post so that I can post some photos.  After the MoMa, we headed back to the hotel where I ate leftovers from Ninja and we … took a nap and watched Happy Feet on ABC Family, because we’re adults now and we get to decide what that means.  Our day on Sunday ended at the Way Station, which always deserves it’s own post. So, remember to stay tuned during the week for details.

Monday morning, I was nursing a mild hangover.  Let me tell you, the drinks at the Way Station are not low in alcohol content.  I wanted fries, hard.  But first we had to check out of the hotel, and we started to wander looking for a place to  eat.  We managed to wander into what I believe was little Italy and a place called Brinkley’s on Broome Street.  It was delicious, but I have so much to say, so say it with me: stay tuned.  After a brunch at Brinkley’s, we walked to Strand Books.  Usually I love this place, their tag line is “18 miles of books,” what is there not to love?  But my hangover was interfering with my enjoyment.  So I only bought one book: On Such Full Seas, I’ve heard very good things.  After I checked out I headed to The Bean across the street for a chai latte.  We sat on the bench outside and discussed our options.  We had planned on going to the Museum of Sex, but I just didn’t have the energy for another excursion.  So we headed home, arriving back at Evan’s house around 5pm.  One of our best friends came over that night and he and Evan watched some old movie, which I honestly cannot even remember the title of, not because I was drunk but because I just could not keep my fucking eyes open.

This morning, afternoon really, Evan and I rented Happy Feet 2 on Demand, because we’re awesome.  He made me an egg sandwich, but then after the movie ended, I headed home so I could shower and sleep in my own bed before I have to work tomorrow.

What a successful weekend!

I leave you with this picture of a Lisa Frank cement mixer that I snapped.
Only in NYC.

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Foto Friday 3: Photos 11-16

Yes, this week my post comes without today’s photograph.  I’m hoping to come up with something less lame than all the other photographs that I’ve taken this week.  I felt like absolute crap starting, I believe, last Friday, so my discovery this week was this:

Feeling Like Death \ne Creativity 

January 11, 2014
11/365
Soup

I found this absolutely wonderful recipe for a vegan tomato soup from thugkitchen.com.  Of course I subbed 1/2 cup of vegetable stock for milk because I like my soup souper creamy (see what I did there?)

January 12, 2014
12/365
The Quils

And yes, I felt even worse on Sunday.  Sunday I felt like absolute death.  I couldn’t even call in to work because we were short staffed and I couldn’t leave my coworker alone on the floor.  She might have killed me.

January 13, 2014
13/365
My Ugly Mug

I told you my photos this week were lame.

January 14, 2014
14/365
Barnes and Noble Haul

Evan and I went to Barnes and Noble, after seeing Frozen.  I bought Looking for AlaskaThe Impossible Knife of Memory, and Burial Rites.  Oh, and I renewed my membership.

January 15, 2014
15/365
No Comment

Yes, yes, I licked the blanket.

January 16, 2014
16/365
Valentines for Everyone!

Christmas cards are lame.  Valentines are awesome – when you’re a kid.  I’m tired of walking past boxes of “class” valentines and not buying them.  So I’m sending Valentines to everyone.

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We Finish Each Other’s … Sandwiches

What Now

So, when they started showing previews for Frozen, I had no bloody idea what the previews were for.   I had very little interest in seeing the movie because I didn’t know what it was.  Now, for me, this is strange.  When the nominees for the 2012 Academy Awards were announced, I had seen one movie up for best film and all of the movies up for Best Animated Movie.   So, really, the fact that this movie started getting such glowing reviews and I didn’t know what it was about was frustrating the hell out of me.  Finally someone told me that it was quote, “a Disney Princess movie with a feminist twist.”  I still didn’t know what the fuck that meant.  But, honestly, it sums up the movie pretty damned well.

Frozen is a story of sisters.  Let’s stop right there.  That in itself makes this story different and more feminist than the rest of the Disney Princess movies.  I didn’t say, “Frozen is a love story,” (which it is) I said, “Frozen is a story of sisters.”  That’s amazing.  Recently Pixar had their first female protagonist, Brave.  Now this.  Evan put it best.  The girls that grew up with Disney Princesses are now creating Disney princesses of their very own.

Elsa is the elder sister and is born with this power of ice and snow.  One night, her younger sister Anna wakes her up to play in the ballroom with her magics.  An accident occurs that makes Elsa hide her magic from everyone, including Anna.  She shuts Anna out, completely.  Until the day of her coronation, Elsa hides, but then her emotion gives her away and she runs.  The main journey is Anna’s journey to rescue her sister from herself.  But, can we take a moment to realize that this is the story of two completely different, completely independent, girls growing into themselves and becoming women?  How amazing is that? A story of womanhood?
One where the moral is, “yes, falling in love is nice, but we don’t need it to solve our problems.”

Men, I’m sorry.  Sisters before misters.

Also, can we take a moment to talk about how beautiful the animation is in Frozen?
Elsa
Angels sing.

It felt nostalgically like the animation and passion in the old Disney movies with a modern sensibility in the story. (side note: how sad is that, that ‘a story of womanhood’ is considered modern).  There was a sense of romantic beauty that’s been missing from Disney in recent movies.  It doesn’t need to be all about impressing the boy to be romantically beautiful.  There’s a sort of soft loving beauty to the way that Frozen was animated.

GO SEE THIS MOVIE.  JUST DO IT.  AND TAKE YOUR SISTERS.
I’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER.

Sven

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