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Monday, 25 August 2014

Some feels

Most likely a result of months (almost a year now) of therapy, I'm trying to embrace my feelings a bit more and actually act on them. Well, some feelings, at any rate. I even feel I'm being somewhat mature about them. Well, some of them, at any rate.

I cut the post about heroes short because I was distraught by thoughts concerning Rl. He asked me to dance at the milonga and seemed quite annoyed. It could have been mistaken by me stepping on him (except I didn't), or by some kind of muscle pain (it wasn't). He said nothing and I figured I'd ask if something was the matter. He said he'd been frustrated with me because I can't quite get my hand on how to embrace people to dance tango. My bad, I won't try to hide it. I still felt like it was a bit of an over-reaction on his part. The whole thing was still bothering me, as the idea grew on me that maybe he was just venting sexual frustration at the fact that, for example, nothing happened Friday night. Now, I can stop now to comment on how he tries to defend himself asking for specific instances of what I'm talking about, like he's an attorney asking for incriminating evidence, but I won't. Alors, on continue. After toying with the idea of maybe proposing a friends with benefits (and lots of boundaries) arrangement where I could be inclined to try a make-out session with him, I figured I needed to ask him up front if he was attracted to me. So I did. 

He said no and asked about me, so I said "not really" and when he said "not really is not actually no" I elaborated. I explained I'm physically attracted to him but refuse to act on it. He said he'd picked up on it and I called him a wise-ass. When I talked about being afraid of sexual objectification he said #yolo. When the conversation was over I was sure he'd lied and somewhat regretted thanking him for his honesty. Mark my words he will try something. I hate how he uses words and doesn't actually say what he means. In case you were wondering, that's not reason enough to refuse to act on my attraction to him. The bulk of those reasons lies in the fact that he enjoys boxing (brain injury does not equal sport) and finds no problem laughing at sexist/racist/otherwise-wildly-politically-incorrect jokes. There's a line between making cheap jokes about genitalia and actually being funny, any reader can tell you that. Laughing about women farting, queefing and snoring is a big NO in my book. I'm particularly insulted by ridiculing queefing because it's most likely to happen after having penetrative sex and you don't fucking mock someone's body expelling air you bloody put there. I'm looking at you, George Lopez. But he's not the only one. En fin... Score one for being blunt and honest. I actually feel quite good with myself for attempting to have an honest conversation about feelings, if only those of attraction. Should it work in the future (not with Rl, I mean) I'll be proud of talking things out rather than guessing. 

The other one is about SmTn. I can't help but find it a bit strange that I haven't received so much as a smiley face back from him since he sent that e-mail a while ago and I just went ahead and wrote another e-mail for him asking for signs of life. The increased frequency of contact and implied desperation badly hidden in it is practically begging for us to go back to talking regularly again and I'm not sure I can stop myself.

I said some.

Sunday, 24 August 2014

On some heroes

Sailor Moon got me thinking. 

There's a very specific kind of superhero story I'm drawn to and the pattern followed is about the same: teenager finds out they are special and they build on newly discovered superpowers to save the world. This is true for Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, Inu Yasha and even Harry Potter. I'm tempted to say this might be true for mutants (X-men) but I fear they only said mutant powers manifested around puberty to make the parallel between being mutant and being gay for that particular film. 

The point I wanted to make is that this seems to be aimed at young adults and teenagers. While the animé/manga component can be explained by how cute it is to dress girls in all of these outfits or how obsessed pop culture is with the school uniform, I want to look more into it. Older audiences can't relate to wishing they had different cares and have likely enough given up on thoughts of being special because they're already caught up in the real world of grown ups, with taxes, bills, bosses and all sorts of boring responsibilities. 

Virtually no one could handle a 9-5 job and fighting evil forces trying to take over the universe. It's just too much. Lose the job for oversleeping and you're guaranteed never to eat again. Fail to keep up with the bigger cause and you won't have a home to come home to. Not only does it not work, it's unrealistic and when you're a certain age you're painfully aware of just how unrealistic it really is. 

What bothers me most, I suppose, is that I can't shake the feeling that I've missed out because if I didn't find I was one of the chosen ones when I was in my teens then I'm certainly too late now, meaning I must be an inconsequential filler character in someone else's big story. If they were going to send me an invitation to a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they would have done so years ago, hence I must be just another muggle. How unexciting. 

Thursday, 21 August 2014

I'm terrible at hide and seek

I'm hiding in the office. I use the term loosely, as Pf2 asked if I was here realized I was here and called for me and I actually opened the door to talk to him. 

Problem? I don't have a job for next semester (the one starting...oh, next week). Not yet, and, possibly, not at all. My last communications inquiring Pf2 for the prospect of a job got me nothing more than "I submitted your name but it's out of my hands now." Today it was obvious he was waiting to tell me in person "I can't promise you anything." I excused myself saying I'd go out to try and ask for a position with the maths department but after they turned me down I couldn't come immediately back to the office. I broke down into tears in the 4min walk and locked myself in a bathroom stall trying to calm myself down long enough for the redness in my eyes to subside enough that I'd dare come to the office again. It took me about an hour. Pf2 was no longer in the office and I took advantage of that to lock myself in, though I still made quite a ruckus boiling myself some more tea and eating a bag of chips. That and I forgot to silence my phone, so when he texted to tell me he'd tried nagging the department's head once again to try and convince him to get me a job I'm quite sure he could hear my phone ring. That's how he knew to call for me and that's why I opened the door for him. Fuck, he just called for me and I didn't answer. I'm typing as quietly as I can. I can't answer this time because I'm crying again and I'm a snotty mess.

I'm crying again because the old man called. He wanted to know how I'm doing money-wise and I gave him a less than convincing "so-so." He asked how much I needed and I lied giving him a number that will barely leave my bank account at an exact 0 (as opposed to negative). He offered twice that much, which is still not nearly enough because I'll need.. oh, let's see... 50 times that much to cover tuition by next Friday. Yesterday I tried to soothe myself concocting worst-case scenarios where I could become a sugar-baby, a stripper, or even sell my life in exchange for financial security for my family. The truth is I'd be hard-pressed to make any of those work in less than a week. The truth is that exactly none of those would work out in such a short period of time. Yesterday mum was offering to send me money she didn't have and sorely needs thinking it would help. I didn't have the heart to tell her it's not nearly enough and it won't make a difference if she sends me the money so it's best for her to use it. Though I can't tell her I have a job yet I keep telling her not to worry and of course she does. There is good reason to worry though I don't tell her about it. 

Oh dear, even Pf2 is sticking his neck out for me and all I can do is hide in the office and pretend I'm not here even though he can almost certainly hear my typing.

Last night I had a dream that I was hired for a job that was yet to be announced. I had a dream about aunt MT promising she would take out a loan and transfer me money for tuition. 

I've had other dreams, magical ones where I could fly and my voice had the power to invoke other beings and find mystical objects and travel through mysterious lands... dreams where I didn't have any of these worries. But I've all but forgotten them and can't write them down now.

Monday, 18 August 2014

Designated driver

So, I didn't bring it up before (when it actually happened) but there's a 100% chance that I had a feeling Md had/has feelings for me. It got awkward when she started asking about my love life and, in particular, for interest in Rl. Even though she already knows the person I'm interested in is decidedly not Rl (well, the latest person I've had a crush on, anyway, and the other one's not even in this time zone so... still not Rl). It was weird. Anyway, I had time to think Rl was interested, if only in getting into my pants, because he followed a certain pattern of "let's do lots of things together!" followed by quite a bit of silence I've come to associate with a couple other people who were interested (or sort of, anyway). And then on Saturday he asked if I'd like to go to a milonga. I explained I have no money and he offered to pay for me, which was awfully nice of him, and drive me there if I drove to his place first. We made small agreements where I offered to give him rides to the airport and such and he'll have my back for tango events he's attending too. He talked me into attending an advanced seminar with a teacher I can only describe as a pothead maths fanatic who just so happens to know quite a bit of tango. I attended the workshop and he left early to go work. Then later, around 9pm, he told me he was going out with a couple other of the tango people (pothead teacher included) and asked if I'd like to come with. I didn't need a lot of convincing, and I had no problem being the designated driver. 

I was a bit sorry to miss out on YAP's housewarming/welcome back to town party. On the one hand, I was already engaged with the tango people and I didn't want to risk seeing Nd or Md. On the other, Kl was there and there's a non-negligible chance that someone I would have liked to see was there. Alas! It was not to be. I might get together with YAP sometime later today to welcome him. 

Rl reminds me of EBF somewhat. Same strong façade to cover some emotional frailness. Same macho vibe and easygoing nature. Same we-could-be-good-friends feeling. He called me nice. I'm not sure what to make of it, because there's a chance (I find myself really doubting men's words lately) that he didn't mean half of what he said, but he said I was nice. It was in the context of him not wanting to see anyone for his birthday and how he's been away from people other than his closest friends and I asked about being the only obvious exception to that rule. He said I was nice and he doesn't often meet such nice people. It's not the first time I'm called nice and it's more often than not said to imply people will take advantage of me, but he was quite insistent on buying me something. The soft drinks I had (all I had, really) were on the nice waitress who decided to not charge me for them and I refused to get anything else he'd have to pay for. Part of the whole "not taking people up on nice offers" thing I have going on. If he's nice enough to offer I won't be un-nice enough to take advantage of him, especially not after he paid for Saturday's milonga. Even if it was not a huge sum, it was a nice gesture I've had no real way to repay and I feel a bit odd just taking from others. It's not that I'm obsessed with making the score even, I don't care if others take more than they give me, I just don't personally feel comfortable being the person who takes more than they give. I'm weird like that (and in other ways, I suppose). 

It will soon be SmTn's birthday. I've already tweaked and edited the e-mail I want to send him a few times. I'm a bit anxious about not getting a response to any of the last messages I sent him and I wonder sometimes if he's somehow not received them. I hope to at least get a nod in the form of a smiley face to let me know he received my message and I got him to smile. 

This is one spread out post, isn't it? *sigh* That's what I get for falling out of the habit of writing...

Thursday, 14 August 2014

Little one

I had a dream about my little one last night. Well, if not her a clone of hers. Who was sick and was having trouble breathing and had a tumour on her chest. I took her to a vet and explained how worried I was and she assured me it was nothing. 

Little one, my little one, I miss you.

Wednesday, 13 August 2014

Gone fishing

I had a dream last night where I was pushing someone around and we ended up near a small (man-built?) lake. The water was crystal clear and the bottom was a pale sand beige colour. We had a fishing pole, for some reason, and decided to start fishing. I noticed Q in there, on a boat with someone younger than him (a student?) but we didn't really talk much. Just as I was thinking there were most likely no fish there, one pulled on the (far too short) line. It was a barely visible yellow and black striped fish, about as big as my palm. I let it go and soon caught another one, this one translucent silver and about the same size. I was starting to think there probably weren't any larger fish in the pond when I saw a barracuda-looking one with the same sheer silver colouring as the last one. I hadn't given much thought to catching it when I started pulling on the line and realized it was tied around the big fish's tail. All I had to do was pull it above water level. Then came the decision to take the fish with me, to eat (though I remember hesitating whether it was sanitary to do so or not) and I had to kill it first. I was planning on just holding it out of the water upside down and somehow this would make it die (not being out of the water, having all of its blood drain to its head). It was pointed out to me it would be more humane to just hit its head against a wall until it started bleeding, at which point I could be sure it was dead. So I did, I started hitting it against a wall without actually looking at it, waiting for someone else to signal that they had seen blood so I could stop, and when someone did, I stopped. 

In another dream, I was in a large parking lot with the old man and I had my phone and my phone charger with me. I was just walking around as we both waited for something when I saw a row of school desks just set somewhere in the parking lot, some 6-8 schoolboys above them and a professor watching them. Problem? The boys were being burned alive. I ran away and told the old man he should call some kind of emergency service. It seemed as though not a lot of people were in the parking lot and even fewer were willing to comment on the teacher burning students alive. I remember there was a big commotion and I got to talk to a couple of the higher-ups who mentioned there being "terrorist-like" activity that had been suppressed before it even happened and  yet this one slipped. Somehow, I ended up on the run (I don't know who I was running from) and this resulted in making a deal with someone who picked me and two other people up from a lake to drop us off at a police station. The deal involved us receiving money (quite a bit of it) and a car. Somehow, uncle A was involved and it became his decision. In a gesture that actually surprised me, he said the money would be for me and my sister, except he'd just give it to me because money I used was money the old man wouldn't need to give me and could just give to my sister (or something along those lines). I remember being glad to know I'd have more money in the bank and I'd be able to afford a few more months' worth of payments (unlike now). 

*sigh* I really do need the money.

Tuesday, 12 August 2014

The splash of whales

I thought I'd be falling asleep early. I just slept a little, woke up, and now can't stay asleep so I figured I'd write down a bit about the dreams I had.

In one dream, I was walking along a... I'm thinking "ridge" but it would seem ridges tend to be higher up than this was. It was a pathway along the side of a cliff by the sea, itself a small cliff some 3m or so above the water surface. The larger cliff was not, however, a cliff by the definitions I know, as it was made of smooth stones (rather than stones that seemed to have been worn by the sea). The stones were almost black, large (60cm or so in diameter) and their surface was quite smooth. They weren't rounded, and there were a few straight edges here and there, but they were mostly flat. They were shining with a golden light from being wet with the water that had splashed earlier and the not quite blue anymore shades of light emitted by a sun that's fairly low on the horizon. I was walking with my sister and my spoiled brat cousin. In the water next to us were whales, splashing us. The whales looked like a cross between orcas and humpback whales (shape of a humpback whale, smooth skin and colouring of an orca, some 12-16m long), except they also had what I can only describe as giant pink feathers, except they weren't feathery (or "hairy") in any way at all, they just had the general shape of a feather on what would be in the position of wings, adjusted for size. They were really quite beautiful and terrifying all at once. The path was maybe 3m across (plenty of room) and yet I was afraid of falling into the water so I lay down on the floor and started pushing myself forward with my elbows. I thought of taking pictures with my phone to show to SmTn and even had time to worry about my phone getting wet.

In another dream, there was apparently a "thing" where older (30s-40s) men really liked me and kept trying to get close to me and take advantage of me. One in particular I remember called me to his lap, like you would a dog, and I actually went in and sat there. Until I got uncomfortable and made ready to leave, except by that point it was already very awkward and he was sure things were going somewhere. This was not a first-time occurrence and I even contemplated asking EBF about it (silly dream me.)

Then, there's a dream I woke up to this morning about a child (really, more a baby) who had written a poem for a contest. She was deemed very smart and the poem was supposed to be too planned, too "perfect" in a way to actually be good, and yet it was very good, or so I seem to remember. It was only 3 lines (though I can't replicate it in less than 4) and I wish I could remember the wording, rather than just the vague meaning:

It was a long trip to China.
I travelled slowly.
It was a long trip to China.
I came back the next day.

The general idea of the poem is that in very few lines it conveyed the idea of having travelled to some specific part of  China (I just wrote China because I can't remember). One of the travels was very slow and took a long time. The other lasted a shorter period of time but was jam-packed and thus felt like a long one. It sounded way better in the dream. Also in this dream, I remember petting a white rabbit that had hair in the shape of peacock feathers (the hair "puffed out" towards the ends)... it was not an albino rabbit, I don't remember its eyes being red, it was just a white rabbit. Very soft to touch.

Monday, 11 August 2014

Adulthood and hope

I will of course be tired in the morning when I have to wake up and make my way to the office, but I've already debated with myself just how sleepy I am right now and the conclusion seems to be "not sleepy enough." I finished watching Sailor Moon. I cried. I cried when Haruka and Michiru died holding each other's hand, I cried for Seiya's unrequited love. At this point, it shouldn't surprise anyone that I did. Except perhaps myself because of the whole being numb thing. It's just that I don't go about feeling many things other than lonely and I already know love stories are a trigger. 

I'm feeling a bit restless. I went over a few old posts adding the Sailor Moon label to them and fell upon one where I had ideas. The bright kind of ideas that tickle your brain and make your ideas smile as they talk among themselves. What I wrote then makes no sense now and maybe it never did, as you'd expect from random notes taken quickly too long ago. The true ideas behind them escaped me them and they still do now, it's just that it took me a while to even remember what it was like to have such ideas. I'm that stupidified by now. 

The reasons why are long winded, I suppose, but they boil down to the purposeful numbness. Not the one the psychiatrist says might be caused by the drugs, but the one I started building upon when my little one died by burying the pain with make-up videos and Bob Ross. Hope is lost. I know depression lies and someone who just watched the final episodes of Sailor Moon should think otherwise, but there was a time when I read Le Petit Prince and I thought reading it while so young was a stupid exercise and found the book dreadfully boring. I could read it now (I won't, I hated it and I remember the message well enough) but by now it's too late. And that's exactly the thing. We all go from the wishes and fantasies of being singled out as quirky heroes made stronger by the things that make them different (and, in real life, weak) to boring adulthood. "It's the way of the world," some would say.  I couldn't prove them wrong if I wanted to.

Remind me to try writing another Volo piece. 

Sunday, 10 August 2014

Active waiting: chapter Sailor Moon

I'm on an antisocial streak. I don't have a mind to see Nd or Md. I can say for a fact Nd is being just too much to bear. Just on Thursday they called to ask if they could drop by the office, which was not so much to talk but to use the printer there and ask for some tea while they were at it. I deliberately stayed hungry so as to avoid offering them food. I didn't offer the tea, I was in no mood to offer tea (or snacks, or anything... and I always do, when people come to the office). They asked for it and it frankly felt rude. I'm not seeing them on Monday, like they asked. I'll make sure to be busy. Actually, Pf2 is helping with that as an experiment was scheduled for Monday. It's a shame that's the day the PRIDE officers are meeting and I may not be able to make it, but I guess that's what it is... I hope we're done sooner rather than later and can start on time (or at least agree to start later in the afternoon so I can attend the meeting). Anyway, that's not quite what I wanted to write about.

It was brought up by one of the group facilitators that my numbness and reluctance to engage with feelings is a form of avoidance. I admit to it. I keep myself numb by watching YouTube videos, by playing games on the computer or my phone, by checking the usual websites. I have not done much of use lately. Lately, in fact, I've taken it upon myself to revisit Sailor Moon, as it turned out I had been missing out on 80+ episodes last time I thought I saw all of them. Go figure... I will say it's refreshing to revisit characters like Haruka, Michiru and the Starlight Sailors from a new perspective. Under the light of a term I've only recently become acquainted with, seeing Haruka as a transmasculine woman makes the character all the more interesting. The thing is, I'm not even halfway through the last set of episodes and... well, I'm having trouble concentrating.

I can't even focus enough to keep myself numb. At first I just opened a few other tabs to entertain myself while the video loaded. Then I took to actually playing around creating new Sailor Senshi in an online game. I know, childish, right? And yet it felt refreshing to revisit such thoughts. The thoughts of a little girl trying to create a figure to look up to. Invariably, the first characters I play around with always end up dressed in green and are made to look as much like me as the games allow. Once even that was enough, the thought that interrupts me is that of SmTn. I start to wonder if at a time like this he would be online and, had I not forbidden iit, whether or not we could be talking right now. I'd been thinking of asking him to please be online even if we can't talk, just because I like to feel his company that way but I wonder if the decision is not him deliberately trying to avoid me. I wrote an e-mail for his birthday and I've kept it in my Drafts folder, waiting for the right day to hit "send." 

Are you there, SmTn? It's really been too long...

And while I busy myself with such pointless thoughts, I'm not looking for a job. Not for the coming semester, not for after I'm done. I trust I'll get one (at least after I graduate) and I know I need to start looking now to make sure it will be a good one but I'm more eager to think of how to spend my spare time once I land said job. As for the Fall term... I finally mustered the courage to ask Pf2 about it and he said he asked for someone to get me a job, but it's out of his hands now. If ON's contract is any indication, it may already be too late. And if I don't get a job... that means no tuition waiver and no money to pay for the loan or the car insurance. If I had half a mind I should be eagerly looking for a back-up job just to make the payments but I'm having trouble being useful, in case you hadn't noticed.

The dream... the dream is to escape to an alternate fantasy where my regular old self is actually someone important and worthy of an enviable love life. Someone with powers no one else has, capable of taking on jobs that no one else can. 

I briefly considered writing a piece about our first notion of love as a myth to cover up the blunt edge of hormones but I haven't the heart to. 

I considered writing about the Mariah Carey song that got stuck in my head for a couple of days but I can no longer remember what it was. It's "One Sweet Day."

No it isn't. That was a while ago. It's "Without You."

I'm running out of words. I'm running out of conversations. I'm running out. But I can't really run.

Monday, 4 August 2014

Sexy egg yolks

I've been dreaming a lot lately, I just haven't been recording the dreams because of the whole I-don't-feel-like-writing-thing. I had an odd dream last night about SmTn. I had a dream that we were both at my parents', staying in my room in separate beds and I suppose he was visiting. But we were sleeping in the same room and I even remember changing in front of him, not really caring if he saw me naked. That's not all that odd, I suppose, not compared to I'm about to tell. I remember thinking it was a bit too soon, so I guess we hadn't been together that long and I remember worrying about a number of things and unanswered questions, but he was preparing for anal sex. With a little packet of lube (not so unlike the packets that ketchup come in) and, for reasons I cannot begin to understand, egg yolks. He didn't ask, and at this point we hadn't engaged in any other type of sex, but he'd apparently come prepared for it. It seemed "obvious" to him that we should go for anal even though I have so many questions regarding how you'd get to that line of reasoning... I'm a bit embarrassed to admit I was going to "let him" do it. Not that I was into it, not that I was going to do all the things I thought were necessary before going into anal, that I was going to "allow" it to happen as if that were close enough to consent. 

Why egg yolks? Why was I tempted to tell him, when the lubrication didn't seem to be enough, that some people make do with just saliva? (I didn't, by the way). Why was this our first official sex act? Why didn't I force the subject of whether or not he'd be using a condom, or our previous partners and sex health history for that matter? Why didn't I tell him I was uncomfortable and that I'd never done anal before? Why didn't I flinch at the thought of egg yolks near my privates? Why motherfucking egg yolks? In case you were wondering, no: we didn't. Not because I stopped him, but because we couldn't. It may have been a matter of not enough lube, it might have been a matter of not enough time alone. All I know is that I ended up outside, helping mum clean the floor because she was hoping to find some kind of magical pattern of three tiles that would reveal information that would make us lucky/rich. Dream logic. You wouldn't understand... I remember scrubbing at the floor to reduce algae growth there. It apparently hadn't been done in a fairly long time.

In another dream, I was some sort of princess and I was engaged to a monster not so unlike Godzilla (just a giant reptile that could walk on its two hind legs, nothing radioactive but rather ancient and epic about it). I had feelings for this monster and I somehow knew it to be person-like. However, to get to me and be engaged to me it had "cheated" some kind of test that involved filling some kind of outline against a massive rock, which the monster did by creating a chain of humans to lean against it. The king, my father, was very upset and wanted the monster to prove itself before we could go on with any of the preparations.