Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons...

☁ You know those moments where you can kind of imagine your head exploding? Yeah. I actually =felt= my brain explode Monday. Well, not literally, obviously, but I felt SOMETHING happen in my head. That's... not good, is it? O_o (Basically, the cause was a severe WTF moment with a coworker. I was seriously like, "Uh... what just happened? O_O")

☁ Faith in humanity- somewhat restored. THANK GOD. I'd say that maybe the defeat in Mississippi will make these idiots rethink this whole "Personhood" thing, but.... my faith in humanity isn't THAT restored. XD

☁ Kinda scary how I hear myself in this video. Not the whole thing, mind. But the part where she's talking about coping mechanisms, and the people that totally shut down? Yeeeeeah. I have actually SAID the phrase she uses. That being said, I don't think it's a coping mechanism for the fear of loneliness. Don't get me wrong, it's definitely a coping mechanism. But it's more as a way of avoiding pain in the first place. She does mention that, but I think the connection to the fear of loneliness is misplaced. Fear is part of it, sure, but that's a fear of rejection, not loneliness. Though maybe that's just me.

☁ Okay, BN, really? =SIX= separate shipments for eleven items is "as few as possible?" Especially when three of those shipments have one or two books? WTF? I really don't get how these companies work sometimes.

☁ It's strange how sometimes you can have a strong reaction to some inanimate object you've never seen before. I saw this journal in the mall the other day and it just... pulled at me. I don't even KNOW. All of a sudden I was just trying really hard not to cry (how embarrassing would THAT have been, jeez), and GUH. Butterflies have an instant association in my head with my grandmother, as she used to call me Butterfly. I don't know whether it's that she's been on my mind subconsciously or what, that made me react the way I did, but... needless to say, I purchased the journal. (Luckily it wasn't that expensive- it's actually cheaper in Hallmark than it is on Amazon, go figure.) I've decided that I'm going to use it as a "school journal" when I go back. Appropriate, in a way. ^_^

(Before we start, I'd like to say that I'm sick and on cold medicine, so if there's anything that doesn't make sense, I apologize in advance. I'm trying to make a serious post here, but I'm not sure how well it's going to work out.)

Edit: Apologies. DW doesn't seem to want to cut this properly, either. *kicks it* I know this is long, and I would cut it if I could. I'm not trying to be obnoxious. Please don't kill me. XD


So I was talking to a coworker the other day about the hair thing- mainly, how my mother and younger sister react to it. It's something I've been thinking about since, and figured it might make an interesting discussion topic.

First, the explanation for myself. I keep my hair cut very short. It's not meant as a statement, though I'm aware that it DOES make one. That's not the intention. I cut my hair this way because I like it this way, plain and simple. I don't see why I should let stupid things like rigid views of femininity or what other people think decide anything about myself. In the same spirit, I often wear men's cologne as well... the ones I like, of course. I'm not about to do something like that just to be contrary. I enjoy that aspect of it, yes. But it's not a contributing factor in those kinds of decisions. I like my hair short. The fact that it pretty much screams DYKE in ten different languages is just a fun bonus. Maybe I would feel differently if I wasn't a lesbian, or if I wasn't bordering on genderqueer. Maybe I would care more about how society looks at me if I was a straight, cis female. But I'm not, so I can't say for sure on either count.

That being said, reactions to my short hair have been overwhelmingly positive ever since I first cut it. I've had many women tell me that they wish they had the guts to do it. Which baffles me, really. How is it particularly brave when it's just hair? I'm not doing anything permanent to myself. If I don't like it, it'll grow back. Seriously, IT'S NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL. But I've never had any emotional attachment to my hair, either, and a lot of women do. Plus it goes back to not wanting to defy social norms, I guess. Regardless, I have it on good authority that it's a look that suits me. I get that it looks "cute" a lot, which honestly makes me cringe so hard on the inside. Perfect example: today I had an older woman tell me, "I wish I could cut my hair that short, but I would look like an old man. ...It looks cute on you, though!" *twitchtwitch* I try my hardest to ignore those comments and just take in that I can pull it off.

Yet every time I get it cut- especially this last time when it got REALLY short- my mother and younger sister declare that they hate it, that it doesn't look good on me, what have you. My mother even went so far as to say to me, "Why did you let them do that to your hair?" as if a weed whacker had been taken to it. Um, I told her to? Kelly, too, regularly asks me when I'm going back to long hair. I won't say never, because I honestly don't know, but it's not going to be at any point in the forseeable future, that's for sure.

So I got to thinking about WHY they're so threatened by this look. Seriously, I think that's what it is. What other explanation could there be for them clinging so tightly to the idea that short hair is terrible? I think there's some disconnect there between who they think I am and who I actually am. I have never been a girly-girl type. Ever. Yes, I had long hair for a long time- too long, really. But I was overly hung up on what everyone else would think if I cut it the way I wanted it. Plus it was ordinary. It let me hide and not bring attention to myself. It wasn't a reflection of my personality or who I was. It's closer to that now, I think. Regardless of what people might say, I think most of us think of women with short hair as less feminine, even if we don't necessarily see it as that. I have to wonder if it's maybe hardwired in our brains or something, because it's just kind of automatic. I know personally, I first wonder if they're gay (but that also may be just because as a gay person, I'm auto-looking for someone like myself). I also tend to think of short haired girls as lower maintenance and more down to earth than girls with long hair. I think maybe part of that too is my own personal experience- I have yet to see a woman with short hair that also had pounds of makeup on and dressed up and everything. So I tend to see them as... less like these high maintenance plasticky creatures and more like someone I could actually relate to. And me myself being sort of androgynous, I guess I see them that way too. If that makes any sense. Of course, I'm not saying that all girls with long hair are high maintenance or anything ridiculous like that. I'm just saying that it really does change the impression you give off, whether it's something you want or not.

The bottom line is, the hair clearly says "I'm gay. Have a problem with that? Too bad." And my family, clearly, has a problem with that. I think they can't deal. And since they can't pick at my sexuality because I'm not officially out to most of my family (gee, I wonder WHY), they pick at my hair instead. Which is pointless, because I just roll my eyes and do what I want anyway. They know this about me. So then why keep harping on about it if there's no ulterior motive? Don't misunderstand me, I don't think it's intentional, at least for the most part. It's probably largely a subconscious thing. However, that doesn't make it okay. They want me to be someone I'm not, someone I've never been. Growing my hair out again isn't going to suddenly make me straight anymore than cutting it made me queer in the first place. They need to deal with that. At the very least, they want me to hide myself better, because they're not comfortable with me being open and out there with it. They would rather at least try to pretend. The way it stands now... yes, I'm obvious. I'm done hiding. I'm never going to be exactly what the world thinks a woman is "supposed" to be. But you know what? Most women don't live up to that standard, including my mother and my sister. I guess I'm far enough away from it that it makes some people uncomfortable. That's fine, it's their problem, not mine. I'm not going to change how I look just because some people are dicks. It's really just an annoyance at this point... but it does make for an interesting social experiment. When I was downtown last week, I was in jeans and my cloud/rainbow scarf t-shirt, plus the super-short hair. At times, yes, it felt like people were staring and I got a bit self conscious about that. As I passed this one group of men, they started calling things out at me, though I'm not sure what they were because I had music blasting in my ears. I probably didn't want to know anyway. Yeah, at times it felt a bit as if I were on display. As I said, though, it's interesting to see how people react to you in those kinds of situations. So would I do it again? Probably.

So what I'm curious to find out from you guys is, what do you think of all this? What do you think when you see a younger woman with short hair? (I'm not counting older women, because from my experience, it's a lot more common for 50+ ladies to chop their hair off. It's much, much rarer for women under 50.) How do you see femininity, masculinity, society's views on both? How do you feel you fit into the gender spectrum (if at all)? Do you think you get treated differently because of how you present? I realize my flist consists of mostly cis-gendered straight-ish women, so responses to the last couple aren't likely to be varied. I figure it's still worth a shot. Could be fun.

1. So I finally got around to actually sitting down and reading The Lovely Bones, which I've been meaning to do for MONTHS. Even with continually stopping to do something else distracting, it was a quick read. Verdict? Beautifully written, but depressing as hell. When I first saw the movie, I thought that they spent waaay too much time focused on the heaven bit and not enough on the living people bit. The book only reinforces that opinion, really. Heaven, death, is not the point. Life is the point. Horrible things happen, but life continues. Maybe not the way it was before, but it does, it has to for those of us that are left behind. What other choice do we have?

...now, of course, I need to decide what to read next in my pile of "been meaning to read" books. Hmm.

2. FMA manga is done. I... can live with the ending. I don't want to say much more to avoid potentially spoiling people, but... yeah. Roy's ending is a little too neat, though. I think that would be my sole complaint about how things worked out.

3. Speaking of manga, RAWR, where is the Hourou Musuko update? *pokes the mangaka with a stick*

4. Thinking about picking up SW again... though I don't know if it would be with Al. Probably. I miss playing him. Not that I was ever that active, heh. Character squatting FTW? On the upside, it would be a chance to create a not-sucky username for him. The only problem there is that I suck at coming up with clever usernames. Pfft. Also I'm not sure how re-apping would work. *groan* I hate writing apps.

5. Haven't been wearing my claddagh ring recently... it's weird. I have my reasons for it (mostly, I'm just not sure how to wear it at the moment), but it's just... I've been wearing the damn thing so long now that I feel a little naked without it. Problem there is that I don't own any other rings to replace it. Damn my fat fingers. XD

6. Possible TMI territory, but eh. Don't like bra-talk, don't read any further. :P

The band on my bras have been seeming loose, so I borrowed a tape measure and did some measuring. The Good News: My band size IS smaller- I've gone from a 42 to a 38. \o/ The Bad News: My cup size has only gone down an inch... so not nearly enough in comparison to my band size. There's a 10 inch difference between the cup and the band now instead of 7. Which means that I'm not even ON Lane Bryant's chart anymore. The highest they go is 9, which is an H. SOB.

Really, that just means that I need to go get measured properly... at some point. My old bras are still fitting more or less okay, so I'm not terribly worried about it at the moment. But GUH. This is the biggest thing I was afraid of with the losing weight thing, and now it's HAPPENING. If I end up with freakish measurements, I'm NOT going to be a happy camper. You hear that, body? CUT IT OUT. >|


Okay, I have to go get laundry out of the dryer and whatnot, so I'll shut up and stop spamming everyone about stupid stuff. For now. ^^;;;

Yeah, okay, I've been slacking on the journaling. Um... whoops? XD

Monday at work was hell. -_- Several people dropping off 10+ rolls of film at a time... what the hell? I had this one guy drop of 17 rolls AND 350 digital prints. What the fuck is wrong with people? >_< I didn't even get a break, so I closed down the lab as fast as I could and booked it out of there a half an hour early. Fuck it. But yeah, I came home and just melted into the couch for a bit. XD It helped.

Hikaru's icons are maxed out already. XDDD 15 is... ohmygodsolittle. And I still didn't get quite the expression I wanted for one of them... I think I'm going to have to watch the series again so I can get icon bases. Meh.

I haz waterproof boots. Yay! *cheers* I also got some plain t-shirts for work (5-6 dollars each. Can't go wrong there, and I wreck stuff so fast at work because of chemicals and stuff, I'm constantly needing new shirts), a few movies (including Harry Potter 5, which somehow I hadn't purchased yet), and some extra styluses for my DS, and a new mousepad (tiger, rawr!)... damage for the day was around $120. Not bad at all! ^_^ Especially considering that's how much I was expecting to spend just on the boots. XD

Still can't believe about Heath Ledger's death. I mean... wow. Such a talent, and he was only four years older than I am. I'm still totally shocked about that... He's one of those actors that's just... guh. I saw Brothers Grimm just because he was in it, you know? And now he's gone and that's just fucking depressing. Who will top my list of "I'd go straight for ________" now? XDDD (Okay, it might sound like I'm being a bitch and making fun of this, I'm really not. I promise. It's just 3:30am and I'm freaking tired and probably not coming across the right way.)

I should go to the grocery store. We need cat food. It would also give me a chance to break in those boots a little... but it's really, really late and all I want to do right now is go to bed. Meh. Maybe I can get away with going when I wake up? XDDD

And finally, in RPland, we now have Isumi (all important ^_^), Ogata, Ashiwara, and Saeki. Whee! <3

1)I had the shock of my life when I came into work today- my boss John told me that they put in a raise for me! Considering I just had my yearly in November/December… so this would be my first ever merit raise (which CVS isn’t actually supposed to do, and John told me as much). He was like “I just want you to know that I appreciate everything you do… I know you work really hard.” -- This will give me roughly $50-$60 extra a month, which I know doesn’t sound like a lot, but being as my rent just got upped by $100, that’s going to help considerably. This will make the difference between making it and drowning every month. Unfortunately, the only thing the raise is going to do for me this month is fill in a little of the hole I dug myself from overdrawing on my damn bank account yesterday… but it’s something.

However, I have a nasty feeling that there’s an ulterior motive for this… like with Walgreens coming up across the street in a few months, they’re sort of trying to bribe people into staying. Like, “Look, we can act human for all of five seconds, and in that five seconds we’ll give you a raise!” I don’t know, a raise isn’t a bad thing… it’s just… I have this gut feeling that there are strings attached to this sucker.
2) I just remembered that my friend Dave’s birthday was today. Whoops. Then again, considering that there hasn’t been so much as an e-mail between us in the last couple of years, calling him a friend might be a bit of a stretch. I guess… you never really get used to losing friends. We used to be close (though not as close as we probably could’ve been, thanks to me holding back and never completely trusting him with the stuff that really mattered, like I didn‘t tell him that my dad left until almost six months after the fact… though he held back with me too, the only thing I don’t know is whether he did that on his own or just because that’s what I was doing)… and we just… drifted apart. Somehow I allowed that to happen. No, actually, that’s not true. I’ll admit that my drifting apart from Lynn was half my fault for not stopping it when I had the chance, but I’m not taking credit for this one. I tried with Dave. I tried to keep in touch, sent e-mails and cards and whatnot, and I would get an e-mail that was two sentences long at most, and he NEVER took the initiative to write to me when it wasn’t in reply to something. He showed absolutely no interest in continuing a friendship with me, so eventually I just… stopped trying. Stopped putting myself out there, because really, what was the point? I just wish he could’ve had the balls to tell me that he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore. I mean… okay, that would’ve really sucked and I would’ve probably hated him for it, but at least it would’ve been over. Done. No more of me wondering why he still talks to Stef but not me. No more of me wondering “Is he really that busy that he can’t spend five minutes and write a fair sized e-mail, or is he blowing me off?” You know? I just hate being strung along… and I hate this fucking feeling that I still have even now, this… loss. The feeling when you lose somebody (no matter the means- a fight, death, moving, etc.) like some part of you is missing because they took that piece with them. I guess maybe that’s the person you were when you were with them- the part of you that’s missing, I mean. They’re gone, so that part of your personality is gone too.

Okay, I’m rambling now and I probably make absolutely NO sense whatsoever, and I need to go do laundry and stuff. So I think I’ll shut up now.

I got the Fall Out Boy tickets in the mail today. Wheee! (And there goes my completely irrational paranoia about not getting them in time).

The other day I was talking with this girl I work with, Desiree, about children, when I finally realized something for the first time: It doesn’t really matter that I don’t want kids, because I can’t have them. Ever. Well, no, I shouldn’t say that because TECHNICALLY, I could. Let me specify that in the statement that it will be a physical impossibility for me to conceive a child with my (future) partner. Sure, we could use a sperm donor or we could adopt- but that’s not really the same thing, is it? I knew all of this before, of course, but I guess the implications never really hit me until now- after all, I’ve never wanted to have children. It’s only been in the last couple of years that I’ve changed “I’m never having kids” to “I don’t want children, but there’s a slight chance that could change in the future”. Probably because it’s been in the last couple of years that the pangs started (otherwise known as a woman’s biological clock going “uh, yeah, you know you only have a limited amount of time to do this, right?”). I think most women know what I’m talking about to some degree or other (and most of them to a much higher level than mine), but let me explain it for the men. It’s when you see a particularly cute baby, or you’re holding a friend’s or relative’s baby and they’re playing with your fingers and giggling, just smiling, or something equally adorable- that even women who strongly dislike children will think “Well, maybe having a kid wouldn’t be so bad.” This is where a woman who likes kids would go “OH MY GOD I WANT ONE!” They generally don’t last long (about as long as it takes the thought to cross your mind), but they’re intense little fuckers. Not that I would admit to actually having these pangs to anyone I know, of course, but they’re there. And that, more than anything, is why this whole thing depresses me so much. When you think of having children, you think of you and your partner having a child. Together. That kid is the combination of the two of you. Just the thought of… having a kid but it’s not mine, or not hers, or not ours anyway because we adopted… it’s fucking depressing. This is nature’s ultimate joke, I guess: “Not only will you be a social pariah and be denied rights that 90% of the population gets just for being born, you will be unable to reproduce with your partner. Ha!” Because apparently nature thinks this is immensely funny, and we all know that Biology loves to fuck with our minds to begin with. I guess… you don’t realize that maybe some part of you DID want something, until you find out that you can never have it. As cliché as that is.

In the past week I’ve gone from being reluctantly interested in the Harry/Draco ship to being completely fucking obsessed with it, despite the fact that a large part of my brain is still fighting it. Figure that one out. Anyway, I put all the blame on pir8fancier for bringing the interest into an obsession. Too good of a writer, dammit.

I still feel like crap, which probably has a great deal to do with the fact that I haven’t really been eating. I always turn semi-anorexic during my period out of practicality- why eat when it’s going to make my stomach declare war over a sandwich? During this time I usually eat something small about once a day, and I’m usually sorry for it later, but hey… you’ve gotta eat. The good news is that I usually lose about five pounds during this whole ordeal- bad news is that I gain it back almost instantly once I actually start eating again. Bah. Well, it makes me feel a little better about my weight for a whole five minutes.

Funniest thing yesterday: Paul and I were looking through some of the old sample greeting cards/borders, and we came across the picture of Shawn (kid that worked there like two years ago, sixteen, cute, I'm not sure if he knew that he was gay yet but he definitely is)- Paul was like, "Who is THAT and why does he not work here anymore?" He he. I spent the next five minutes trying to convince him that Shawn was too young for him anyway... don't think it worked. Paul seems to have a thing for the just-barely-legals. Okay, well, it was funny at the time.

“We tend not to change- or get out of life’s potholes- until we hurt intensely enough.”

I know perfectly well that the things I hate most about myself are things that are changeable. Well, the three main ones, anyway. Yet… I choose not to do anything about them. Why is that? Apparently being reminded of these things every single day of my miserable life isn’t enough to prod me into taking action, so what IS going to? Why do we, as humans, procrastinate until the very last second to do things that we need to do for our own well being? Honestly… is that rut we’ve dug up for ourselves really that comfortable? I guess so. I guess some of us are just so terrified of change- even change that’s good for us- that we dig our nails into the dirt around us, unwilling to let go just at the mere mention of moving somewhere else. Some of us have a comfy little cot set up in that rut and are wary of leaving this set-up that could leave us considerably worse off. Some of us… are simply too lazy to do anything else. The big question is: which is it for you, and what’s going to make you get up off your ass and do something about your life?

My answer for this, personally, is that I don’t have a fucking clue. As far as reasons- the first two are definitely me. Fear of change and an unwillingness to leave a place I’m used to (not necessarily comfortable in, but used to) in exchange for the very scary unknown. Yep. That’s me in a nutshell. But I don’t have the slightest inkling of what’s going to force me off my fat ass, so to speak. Alright, so going back to the three most hated things about myself and how I can/need to change them.
1. My weight. First and foremost. I try to act like this doesn’t bother me, but it does. I look in the mirror and I can’t even recognize myself anymore. The solution to this is… rather obvious. Eat better (I don’t really eat that much, so the amount isn’t an issue for me. But 99% of what I do eat is processed meat, cheese, white bread, and so on.) and exercise. Unfortunately, I’ve never been one to put in the effort to do either of these things for very long. About twice a year I’ll get into a “let’s get healthy” kick, and it’ll last all of two or three days before I decide it’s too much of a pain in the ass and give up on it. But hell, if my mom can lose all the weight she has, I definitely can. If I can motivate myself to do it.
2. School/CVS/Living at home. These are tied together in my mind, because my brain makes the connection that going to college equals leaving CVS, and going to college also means that I will no longer be living with my mother. A win-win situation all around. It’s not so much the leaving CVS part I’m having issues with, or the leaving my Mom’s house thing, it’s the school part. Not that I don’t like school. I’m just terrified beyond terrified of failing. The twisted thing about me is, I’d rather not go at all than to go there and fail. I’d rather die than fail, actually. Failing would prove my worst fears about myself to be true, and that’s just… so frightening I can’t even tell you.
3. My tooth. This is merely cosmetic- I’ve had a chip in one of my front tooth since I was 14. My parents never had the money to get it fixed. It makes me look like a redneck hick and I completely hate it, and even though I actually have insurance now (alas, it’s sucky insurance, but it’s there), I still haven’t gathered up the balls to go get it fixed. The point is- as much as I hate the way my stupid tooth looks, I hate the dentist more. Besides… I need a lot of dental work done. I don’t need them to tell me that because that’s just common sense. I went through a considerable period of time when I was extremely depressed and honestly didn’t give a damn about anything… including, I’m sorry to say, hygiene. Dental hygiene in particular, considering you can only go so long without taking a shower before you start becoming a distraction in classes. To this day, I’m still struggling to get back into the whole “brush your teeth twice a day” thing. I find it highly unlikely that a dentist wouldn’t realize this and comment on it, and I really, really hate being criticized for shit that I know I did and already feel bad enough about, thank-you-very-much. Like when I went in for my senior year physical, and my asshole of a doctor gave me a ten minute lecture about my weight. It’s like… yeah, thanks. I totally didn’t know that I’m about 70 pounds overweight. I never noticed, because it’s not like I get reminded of it every single fucking day in some shape or form. Anyway, that’s just not something I’m looking forward to with the dentist. In addition to my considerable FEAR OF PAIN.

There are other things, of course, but less important in my mind. Not to mention some of them (like a breast reduction) require a WHOLE bunch of money that I don’t have. Will probably never have. Ironically, the three things I hate the most are also the three easiest to change. Go figure. But again, I guess they just haven't stung me enough to motivate me to do something about them. When the hell did I get so lazy....