So, the past few weeks have not been restful because of physical my-body-won't-let-me-rest reasons. This makes me a cranky, cranky girl. This also means that my room is messier than usual because, frankly, I feel like crap and just don't care. But every time my mom comes in and grumps at me about how messy I am I clean up. And she HAS seen it clean. Not that she'll admit that.
I just had a cranky mom inform me that she's NEVER seen this room clean. Really? It's really hard not to say "Really, bitch?" but, y'know, it's my MOM. So. I'm going to make sure that the camera has batteries and I'm going to take a picture of the room EVERY time I clean it and email it to her. (except for when I clean it and then go to sleep, because, you know, SLEEP. Glorious, glorious SLEEP trumps EVERYthing (even petty vindictiveness in rubbing someone's words in their face).
(oh, and apparently my mom is ALSO just cranky cuz I can hear her bitching my brother out in the other room. I'd say our cycles are synching except it's not time for my period and she doesn't have one anymore. Yay synched crankiness?)
Monday, July 30, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Talking with friends
So I was chatting with an old friend online. We don't talk much, but we generally have good conversations when we do. She's been teaching overseas for...God...Four years now? Something like that. In any case, she's been teaching in Korea and is heading to Japan tomorrow. We have a lot of issues in common (anxiety and fibromyalgia mainly). It's so nice to know other people with similar problems. Because knowing that she can do it gives me hope.
I still don't know if teaching English is what I'd like to do. I mean, I know linguistics and Language are major interests of mine (for even longer than libraries and books have been, honestly) but I don't know if that means I want to teach. But knowing that it IS an option and might be something I'd like to do...means a lot. I don't want to get in an education in a field because some charts and projections say it'll get me a job. I want to get my degree in something I love and figure out a way to translate that into a job I can tolerate. I don't need to love my job, I just need my future job not to make me worse physically, mentally, and emotionally. I find fulfillment in my interpersonal relationships. The only thing that made my last job bearable was those relationships. My customers, my coworkers, *they're* what made me able to hold that job for over five years.
I'm not a naive youngster, though sometimes I'm sure I still seem so. I know what it means to compromise, and what's more important is that I've learned when it is NOT appropriate to do so. I know how to find happiness, and I will succeed in doing so. In five years I want to read this and say "Damn Straight"...which makes me giggle because it's late and I'm not. Straight, that is.
I still don't know if teaching English is what I'd like to do. I mean, I know linguistics and Language are major interests of mine (for even longer than libraries and books have been, honestly) but I don't know if that means I want to teach. But knowing that it IS an option and might be something I'd like to do...means a lot. I don't want to get in an education in a field because some charts and projections say it'll get me a job. I want to get my degree in something I love and figure out a way to translate that into a job I can tolerate. I don't need to love my job, I just need my future job not to make me worse physically, mentally, and emotionally. I find fulfillment in my interpersonal relationships. The only thing that made my last job bearable was those relationships. My customers, my coworkers, *they're* what made me able to hold that job for over five years.
I'm not a naive youngster, though sometimes I'm sure I still seem so. I know what it means to compromise, and what's more important is that I've learned when it is NOT appropriate to do so. I know how to find happiness, and I will succeed in doing so. In five years I want to read this and say "Damn Straight"...which makes me giggle because it's late and I'm not. Straight, that is.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Disconnect
So the weekends this summer have been spent with my new international student friends (and unofficially adopted siblings ;) ). It has been super fun. I am currently doing what I didn't do during my teens, getting out and DOING. It makes me happy, it makes them happy, and we're making some really awesome memories.
Except...
Both of them are shutterbugs, and I've really been enjoying being able to share with my other friends through these picture albums. But...Something kind of weird just happened. Usually I just skim through the pics, share a couple, maybe choose a new profile pic, but tonight I kept (kinda obsessively) going through the pictures of me, over and over. As I went through the pictures I kept gradually losing my connection to the person in them. Until...I was staring at this picture of myself and there was this strange disconnect and it was like I was looking at a picture of a stranger. I mean, intellectually I knew that I was looking at a picture of myself, and it was a picture (thanks to the random, weird, obsessive impulse) I'd already looked at a few times. But...I don't know, it was the weird sensation of "she". Looking at the picture and going "Wow, she looks really fun and happy" and then this realization that I was looking at myself. Followed by the realization that I have forgotten to take my meds for the last few days *sigh*.
I couldn't say if this is a normal thing for me. I'm not one of those people who has tons of pictures taken of themselves, so maybe this is a normal (ha!) crazytown moment and I just don't realize it because there were too few pictures of me in the past to elicit this reaction. And too few happy pictures of me. If you were to go on my Facebook you would see that there are more pictures of me in the last six months than the last three years. I'm also happier in the new slew of pics.
I don't feel depressed, I don't feel all that anxious, I just feel...I don't know how to describe it.
In any case I plan on having MORE happy pictures of me taken tomorrow. In the months and years to come I plan on continuing to be this happy. As my friend Tessa said, divorce looks good on me ;)
Fighting!
Except...
Both of them are shutterbugs, and I've really been enjoying being able to share with my other friends through these picture albums. But...Something kind of weird just happened. Usually I just skim through the pics, share a couple, maybe choose a new profile pic, but tonight I kept (kinda obsessively) going through the pictures of me, over and over. As I went through the pictures I kept gradually losing my connection to the person in them. Until...I was staring at this picture of myself and there was this strange disconnect and it was like I was looking at a picture of a stranger. I mean, intellectually I knew that I was looking at a picture of myself, and it was a picture (thanks to the random, weird, obsessive impulse) I'd already looked at a few times. But...I don't know, it was the weird sensation of "she". Looking at the picture and going "Wow, she looks really fun and happy" and then this realization that I was looking at myself. Followed by the realization that I have forgotten to take my meds for the last few days *sigh*.
I couldn't say if this is a normal thing for me. I'm not one of those people who has tons of pictures taken of themselves, so maybe this is a normal (ha!) crazytown moment and I just don't realize it because there were too few pictures of me in the past to elicit this reaction. And too few happy pictures of me. If you were to go on my Facebook you would see that there are more pictures of me in the last six months than the last three years. I'm also happier in the new slew of pics.
I don't feel depressed, I don't feel all that anxious, I just feel...I don't know how to describe it.
In any case I plan on having MORE happy pictures of me taken tomorrow. In the months and years to come I plan on continuing to be this happy. As my friend Tessa said, divorce looks good on me ;)
Fighting!
Friday, July 13, 2012
My beliefs
I'm a Christian. No quibbling for me. It's straight up what I am. No particular denomination, and yes the Bible is my roadmap. I've had more awkwardness coming out as a Christian to friends (yes, I am using that word humourously) than coming out as polyamorous. I come out as poly and interesting convos happen. I "come out" as Christian (c'mon people, I'm pretty obvious about it. y'know, reading the Bible, prayer, "I'm a ComeDiest, I believe there is a God and he's laughing at us") and it's "Oh. I'm not."
So? I'm pretty aware of these things. It's kind of obvious when you make appeals to the Goddess or talk about seeing selkies or what have you that we maybe, just maybe, MIGHT have differing belief systems. So what? Who gives a flying fuck? It's not like I hid the fact that I *gasp* happen to technically fall under the "majority" category when it comes to religion. Seriously. It's pretty obvious. I straight up say it. Just because I cuss and realize that there are more things in heaven and earth blah blah blah, none of that means that I'm lying when I show in so many different ways that I am, in fact, a Christian. So why the awkwardness when I tell you? It's like I've told you I have an STD. It's like...now that I've told you I'm a Christian...what? I'm magically going to change into a different person? The fact that it came up in conversation means I'm suddenly a member of Westboro?
Then people tell me there's no prejudice against Christians. Fuck you. Seriously. Go fuck yourself with a six foot, jagged, rusty, cast iron pole. Because that prejudice fucking exists. Remember how I'm the other? Yeah, in most circumstances being Christian makes me the other too. And where every other belief system is shown respect because it's the politically correct thing to do...It's OKAY to tell me that I'm not allowed to believe that. It's OKAY to heckle me when all I've said in response to a question is "Christian". I've not shoveled out hate, I've just been honest about who I am and what I believe. I haven't pushed it on anybody, my relationship with God is very personal and private-not something I share the details of. And that's enough to throw all the rules in our lovely little politically correct subcultures right out the window. Because Christians are fair game. It's not PERSONAL. Just like when someone calls you a faggot, a heathen, a nigger, a chink. It's not PERSONAL when someone takes one of the most personal things about you and starts blasting you about it. It's not PERSONAL when we've gotten along really well, laughing and joking, but suddenly I'm not human. That's the only conclusion I can draw from the way you're choosing to treat me, to put words in my mouth. You call my beliefs hateful, when I have been nothing but supportive and loving to you throughout all your bullshit. Yeah, there are hateful people out there who claim the title of "Christian". I don't deny it. But why treat ME like shit when I. AM. NOT. ONE. OF. THEM. I never have been.
I just...
Gack.
I had the "I'm not" convo with an online friend the other day. It was relevant to the topic at hand. It bothered me. We'd been having a fun little convo, but the minute I used the "C" word...the conversation just stopped. Then I read a blog post by a guy who is basically dealing with the exact opposite situation (not a believer, surrounded by believers who can't seem to accept that). His experiences...just brought all this shit to the front of my mind. I empathize with him, but I don't know how to express it without getting the usual disbelieving response. I mean...
I understand. Christianity is (technically, considering how many vastly different denominations there are...) the religion of the majority. If I remember my census numbers correctly it was something like three quarters of the population. I understand that. But you know what? Christians don't like me. My sexual orientation and lifestyle do NOT fit what mainstream Christianity says is okay. I may not tell them, but they know I'm odd. Even before I knew that I was anything other than asexual they didn't like me. I make Christians uncomfortable for some reason. So, by default, the vast majority of my friends are not Christians. They tend towards the (self-identified) pagan side. My circles are not Christian. My subcultures are (generally) not Christian. While the belief system I technically fall under might be the majority in the general population, I am the minority in my cultures.
I don't even know what I'm rambling about anymore. I just felt...His post just reminded me of all the shit that's been shoveled on my head for not towing the party line and keeping to my beliefs. Because he seems to be going through the same thing, only opposite. He's a hetero, cisgender, monogamous, male who has identified as "not Christian". Oh, and he was raised Catholic, which with my "cult spin-off of the Pentecostal church" is pretty much as different as you can get.
I can't sleep and feel I am losing whatever coherence I had, so g'nite. Or morning actually. And not barely. It's really REALLY morning.
So? I'm pretty aware of these things. It's kind of obvious when you make appeals to the Goddess or talk about seeing selkies or what have you that we maybe, just maybe, MIGHT have differing belief systems. So what? Who gives a flying fuck? It's not like I hid the fact that I *gasp* happen to technically fall under the "majority" category when it comes to religion. Seriously. It's pretty obvious. I straight up say it. Just because I cuss and realize that there are more things in heaven and earth blah blah blah, none of that means that I'm lying when I show in so many different ways that I am, in fact, a Christian. So why the awkwardness when I tell you? It's like I've told you I have an STD. It's like...now that I've told you I'm a Christian...what? I'm magically going to change into a different person? The fact that it came up in conversation means I'm suddenly a member of Westboro?
Then people tell me there's no prejudice against Christians. Fuck you. Seriously. Go fuck yourself with a six foot, jagged, rusty, cast iron pole. Because that prejudice fucking exists. Remember how I'm the other? Yeah, in most circumstances being Christian makes me the other too. And where every other belief system is shown respect because it's the politically correct thing to do...It's OKAY to tell me that I'm not allowed to believe that. It's OKAY to heckle me when all I've said in response to a question is "Christian". I've not shoveled out hate, I've just been honest about who I am and what I believe. I haven't pushed it on anybody, my relationship with God is very personal and private-not something I share the details of. And that's enough to throw all the rules in our lovely little politically correct subcultures right out the window. Because Christians are fair game. It's not PERSONAL. Just like when someone calls you a faggot, a heathen, a nigger, a chink. It's not PERSONAL when someone takes one of the most personal things about you and starts blasting you about it. It's not PERSONAL when we've gotten along really well, laughing and joking, but suddenly I'm not human. That's the only conclusion I can draw from the way you're choosing to treat me, to put words in my mouth. You call my beliefs hateful, when I have been nothing but supportive and loving to you throughout all your bullshit. Yeah, there are hateful people out there who claim the title of "Christian". I don't deny it. But why treat ME like shit when I. AM. NOT. ONE. OF. THEM. I never have been.
I just...
Gack.
I had the "I'm not" convo with an online friend the other day. It was relevant to the topic at hand. It bothered me. We'd been having a fun little convo, but the minute I used the "C" word...the conversation just stopped. Then I read a blog post by a guy who is basically dealing with the exact opposite situation (not a believer, surrounded by believers who can't seem to accept that). His experiences...just brought all this shit to the front of my mind. I empathize with him, but I don't know how to express it without getting the usual disbelieving response. I mean...
I understand. Christianity is (technically, considering how many vastly different denominations there are...) the religion of the majority. If I remember my census numbers correctly it was something like three quarters of the population. I understand that. But you know what? Christians don't like me. My sexual orientation and lifestyle do NOT fit what mainstream Christianity says is okay. I may not tell them, but they know I'm odd. Even before I knew that I was anything other than asexual they didn't like me. I make Christians uncomfortable for some reason. So, by default, the vast majority of my friends are not Christians. They tend towards the (self-identified) pagan side. My circles are not Christian. My subcultures are (generally) not Christian. While the belief system I technically fall under might be the majority in the general population, I am the minority in my cultures.
I don't even know what I'm rambling about anymore. I just felt...His post just reminded me of all the shit that's been shoveled on my head for not towing the party line and keeping to my beliefs. Because he seems to be going through the same thing, only opposite. He's a hetero, cisgender, monogamous, male who has identified as "not Christian". Oh, and he was raised Catholic, which with my "cult spin-off of the Pentecostal church" is pretty much as different as you can get.
I can't sleep and feel I am losing whatever coherence I had, so g'nite. Or morning actually. And not barely. It's really REALLY morning.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Aluminum Foil-The conclusion
WE WON. That silly music video (as well as some awesome poses in pictures) won us the contest we entered. I was totally shocked, because this one lady dressed her ADORABLE little girl in an ADORABLE aluminum foil costume and it was...well...you get the picture. In any case, I was convinced that lady would win because, as the kids say, "kawaii!!". But we won. Because we banded together and had fun instead of shame ;).
I am so psyched. I don't think I've ever won anything just for being me, having silly impulses and/or having equally silly friends who trail along willingly into my madness. It's "just" an anime prize pack, and it might seem kind of silly but...I feel like I'm being rewarded for being my genuine self (in all my ridiculous glory) and that feels really good.
I am so psyched. I don't think I've ever won anything just for being me, having silly impulses and/or having equally silly friends who trail along willingly into my madness. It's "just" an anime prize pack, and it might seem kind of silly but...I feel like I'm being rewarded for being my genuine self (in all my ridiculous glory) and that feels really good.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Aluminum Foil
Well...it sort of happened ><. Yesterday we took Lam, my recently unofficially adopted little brother from Vietnam (international student who goes to my college) out and about for an early birthday celebration (he turned 18 today). We spent four hours tromping around the waterfront/downtown area of a picturesque local city, then came back to my house. We were all tired (and my other friend, Pauline, kept dozing off), but we decided we were going to make our costumes. It was decided that three people was not enough for a battle, so we decided to dance instead. We picked out a song and found a video that taught the dance, when we realized we hadn't even completely finished the costumes and were lagging more and more. So we quickly finished what we had and made things up as we went along while my brother filmed. It was ridiculous, silly, uncoordinated, and completely glorious.
I love my life sometimes.
Fighting!
I love my life sometimes.
Fighting!
Monday, July 2, 2012
Darnit
So I was all set to have an epic (alright, maybe epic is the wrong word, but still) battle involving armor and weapons made from aluminum foil. My fibro has been flaring for the last few days, so I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed when everyone cancelled on me. If they hadn't cancelled, I would have done it and paid for it for DAYS. I know this. But it would have been so much fun!!
It's so hard to formulate coherent and complete thoughts when your fibro and sinus problems are flaring, causing inordinate amounts of pain, little to no sleep, and just plain crankiness. I want to do a bunch of stuff but it just isn't happening. This morning I didn't move out of bed for two hours because I had miraculously found a position where I was barely in any pain AT ALL. Practically pain free is a glorious thing. I finally got out of bed and started hurting. Now I'm just trying to stay awake so that I can sleep tonight, because for some reason I think it will help (even though I know it won't).
It's so annoying. I can't even read right now. I'm the girl who has a serious book habit, but I can't focus on the page and story for longer than a minute. Which is really pissing me off, because I have now started three awesome books and I just can't read them. I found "Skulduggery Pleasant" through the Goodreads recommendations bar and started reading it. Fantastic! I love books that have strong heroines in their early teens, and this book also has an animate skeleton, magic, a sense of humour, and decent writing. It's also the first book in a series, which means that there are more books waiting for me!! I'm a third of the way through and I stare at the page and blink. Sometimes I turn a few pages and can't remember what happened, so have to turn back.
A friend of mine recommended an author to me, so I picked up one of her books at the library. "Discount Armageddon" has as its main character a cryptozoologist who helps maintain a balanced ecosystem...and is a professional ballroom dancer. !!! I'm also a third of the way through that one and am annoyed that i'm having such difficulty reading.
Aside from those two books specifically, I managed to get all the "Vatta's War" books that I had not been aware had been published so I could marathon them...but I can't even get started. As well as the Stevermer-Wrede book "The Mislaid Magician", which is part of a simply marvelous series/world they've created, Betty White's memoir, Lilian Gish's biography, and a number of others that just look fantastic. I have bibliophile grief right now because pain is costing me my ability to process what I'm reading.
Wait. What the fuck. Why is pain costing me the ability to read, but not to write?! There is no fucking justice in the world. FUCK.
Did I mention that my profanity level increases exponentially when my fibro is flaring and I'm tired, cranky, and being foiled in my plans by the universe and my motherfucking asshole of a body? Fucken, fuck, fuckity, FUCK FUCK, fucken bullshit, shitfuck, craptacularly fucked up shitwagon. Fuck is my favourite word right now.
Fuck.
It's so hard to formulate coherent and complete thoughts when your fibro and sinus problems are flaring, causing inordinate amounts of pain, little to no sleep, and just plain crankiness. I want to do a bunch of stuff but it just isn't happening. This morning I didn't move out of bed for two hours because I had miraculously found a position where I was barely in any pain AT ALL. Practically pain free is a glorious thing. I finally got out of bed and started hurting. Now I'm just trying to stay awake so that I can sleep tonight, because for some reason I think it will help (even though I know it won't).
It's so annoying. I can't even read right now. I'm the girl who has a serious book habit, but I can't focus on the page and story for longer than a minute. Which is really pissing me off, because I have now started three awesome books and I just can't read them. I found "Skulduggery Pleasant" through the Goodreads recommendations bar and started reading it. Fantastic! I love books that have strong heroines in their early teens, and this book also has an animate skeleton, magic, a sense of humour, and decent writing. It's also the first book in a series, which means that there are more books waiting for me!! I'm a third of the way through and I stare at the page and blink. Sometimes I turn a few pages and can't remember what happened, so have to turn back.
A friend of mine recommended an author to me, so I picked up one of her books at the library. "Discount Armageddon" has as its main character a cryptozoologist who helps maintain a balanced ecosystem...and is a professional ballroom dancer. !!! I'm also a third of the way through that one and am annoyed that i'm having such difficulty reading.
Aside from those two books specifically, I managed to get all the "Vatta's War" books that I had not been aware had been published so I could marathon them...but I can't even get started. As well as the Stevermer-Wrede book "The Mislaid Magician", which is part of a simply marvelous series/world they've created, Betty White's memoir, Lilian Gish's biography, and a number of others that just look fantastic. I have bibliophile grief right now because pain is costing me my ability to process what I'm reading.
Wait. What the fuck. Why is pain costing me the ability to read, but not to write?! There is no fucking justice in the world. FUCK.
Did I mention that my profanity level increases exponentially when my fibro is flaring and I'm tired, cranky, and being foiled in my plans by the universe and my motherfucking asshole of a body? Fucken, fuck, fuckity, FUCK FUCK, fucken bullshit, shitfuck, craptacularly fucked up shitwagon. Fuck is my favourite word right now.
Fuck.
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