I think I'm done here. Another blog with 1,000 posts and nothing I want to think about. The original idea was to have Tumblr be a place for other people's content and Blogger be a place for my own. Since I've taken to writing over at Tumblr, I see no point to keep this thing around.
It's been great. I hope you Follow Me.
I haven't bought new fall/winter clothes for a couple years. I feel unstylish and boring. I don't have the attention span for reading and the internet is not being entertaining tonight. I wish I had worked this week. I'm frustrated and annoyed and grumpy. I don't even feel like cleaning.
Well, my stint at the American Heart Association has drawn to a close and after over a month of steady 9-5 I'm sitting at home in a comfy six year old college hoodie and surfing the internets at 1:30pm. I figured it was time to knock out some posts I've been meaning to write.
Most monosexuals (those who are 0-1 and 5-6 on the Kinsey scale) fail to think about the possibility of bisexuality in other people. So, should you reference a gender in the context of a relationship or sexual activity, folks will latch on to that and use it to define you. One reason that I got my tattoo was that I was disgusted by my own willingness to conform to people's expectations of my heterosexuality. I'm tired of seeing the cogitative dissonance on people's faces as they try to work through my femmey nature with my perceived straightness. So, when faced with the proposition of getting to know my temporary coworkers I decided to present as GAYGAYGAY.
Amanda and I already refer to each other with the gender neutral "Partner" label. So I was able to talk about my relationship. I just had to avoid using pronouns which sometimes got a bit tricky. I go out dancing a lot and go to gay clubs so that worked to solidify people's assumptions. It allowed me to compliment my coworker's shoes and clothes without them thinking I was hitting on them or something. I knew I had them when one of my coworkers called me over to give my opinion on her haircut.
Not once did anybody ask my sexual orientation and I never offered it. I drew the line at blatant lying (as opposed to the lying by omission that this project was founded upon.) If I had been asked I would have said that I am attracted to both sexes and identify as queer. All in all it was a satisfying experience though one I doubt I'll repeat. I have to find some way to work "I'm bi" into conversation without it seeming like I'm providing TMI. I'd like to expand people's perceptions instead of reinforcing stereotypes.
Though it was nice to have the stereotypes do what I wanted for a change.
I am unhappy when sedentary. Doing something is always better than doing nothing. Intention. Action without intention is wasteful.
I was feeling awful earlier tonight. I got home from work and was nauseated, I'd barely eaten anything, and I was exhausted. Around 8:30 I called my friend to see if I could tag along with whatever her plans were. I went up to her apartment in Logan Square, and then over to Lakeview for some dancing and chatting at LBC with her date and a few friends neither of us had ever met. We ended up stuffing all six of us into a cab to go to Exit for a burlesque show (as always I am ambivalent about burlesque.) I finally ended up walking the 2+ miles home. I cleaned the litterbox, jumped in the shower, and curled up into bed.
I feel like mentioning that I was out with five other bisexuals tonight and that felt nice.
I've felt wonderful for the past four hours. I've felt capable and clear headed. Faced with the existential crisis of doing something or nothing, I've found myself focused on something. The sink is empty, I dusted and mopped. Dusting required clearing off enough surface area to warrant dusting. My roommate is out of town for a bit; when that happens I find myself feeling much freer to make the place comfortable for me. How ridiculous is it that I don't feel comfortable in my own home due to a massive amount of clutter.
Job search; Grad School; Voting; Creation.
I'm about to bring a cosco apple sauce jar full of change to the bank. I called ahead to make sure it didn't have to be rolled up, though I have very fond memories of having coin rolling parties with my family. We'd make bets on how much change was in the jar and the winner would get to keep the remainder change. The rest would go towards buying presents. This money crunch I'm going through is teaching me valuable lessons regarding the meaning of a dollar.
I want to spray paint stencils on my bedroom walls but they're a bizarre shade of lavender so, in order to repaint, I'd probably have to repaint the entire thing and put down a couple base coats to boot. I'm not sure if I'm up to that. Also, not sure how well my hot pink spray paint would go with lavender.
If I can get out of this funk it's going to be a wonderful day. Now is the time for coffee.
My cat is eating a dead leaf that has fallen off the single plant in the house. I'm boiling some water to cook pasta in and I'm too lazy to do anything other than pour sauce on it. I'm disappointed in myself in many ways tonight. Instead of getting off the internet and reading like I told the internet an hour ago, I watched Gossip Girl episode 4 on Surf the Channel and now I'm celebrating this blog's 1,000th post with self pitying whining. I came home from work brain dead and sleep deprived. I still don't have a permanent position any where and I'm concerned to the point of tears that I don't know how to go about getting a job that won't make me die inside. My stomach is jiggly which is causing all sorts of body image issues. I don't want to get up tomorrow and do this all again. How can I make it different? How can I want things for myself, not because I think I want them or because I feel like I should. I can't possibly have no wants, desires, wishes, or passions. Can I?
The weeks since returning to Chicago have been pretty ideal. My assignment at the American Heart Association is going well. They're keeping me busy enough that I don't have time to blog at work. But what's ideal about that situation is that I have INCOME which is extremely necessary. I've been pretty good about saving money as a result of my credit card debt and $60.00 bank account. Tonight Amanda took me out for Greek food. I got delicious pork and cheese which was LIT ON FIRE (cheese and fire: two of my favorite things). Once I scrape my way out from this hole and find permanent full time employment, which requires significantly more sending out of resumes than I've been doing, I'll have absolutely nothing to complain about. Amanda is moving mere blocks away from me in October. I'll be able to pop over for evening tea and sex whenever I want.
I'm currently in a dreamy sleepy haze. I'm conflicted as to whether or not I want to continue telling the internet about things I haven't yet told people in real life. I got out of that habit due to some serious drama it's caused in the past. I feel like a major cathartic release and processing tool has been cut away from me, though. I'd have processed my breakup with A a hell of a lot more, for sure.
Last night I had sex which involved four hours of foreplay and ended with an extremely intense shared orgasm. I haven't been talking about my sex life very much on here. We'll see how long my kinks are satiated by the bdsm scene I had at Burning Man, which I promise I'll write about. It involved a single tail, a cane, and a paddle. Sometime over the next couple months I'll begin my search for a secondary. I want them to have a cock and I want them to know how to use a whip.
Well, I suppose that settles my "am I going to tell the internet my secret thoughts?" question.
This was truly a model weekend. I spend Friday through Sunday morning with in my apartment with Amanda. There was a moment on Saturday when I was sitting in my red Ikea chair reading Black Feminist Thought and Amanda was playing the piano where I thought to myself (and might have sound out loud), "this is perfect." I cleaned my apartment. I went food shopping. We cooked a delicious meal: linguine sauteed with garlic, spinach, and shrimp with brussel sprouts on the side. I love kissing her before I sleep and kissing her when I wake up. Also, kissing throughout the day is pretty nice. In short: I like kissing, reading and cooking.
If asked
Would I jump at the chance
Will I float away on exhilarating bliss
Abandoning the timely loss
of a former fluttering heart
Who knows me well enough
I just made the rather rash decision to buzz off most of my hair. I didn't feel like dying it back to blond. I've procrastinated all today and now I'm kind of sleepy but I haven't done a lot of things I've been meaning to do. Like showering and writing a cover letter. The buzzer wasn't properly charged, at least I'm hoping that's the problem, so I've had to stop midway through. I have a crazy half shaved half flaming pink thing going on.
Burning Man was awesome, btw. I will be trying to convince you to come over the course of the next year.
I leave for Portland on Wednesday. I'll be spending a couple days there, shopping for supplies and catching up with some dear friends. There will be a weekend trip to Seattle to visit more dear friends and then Sunday will be consumed by the journey to Black Rock City. I'll be recovering in Portland for most of the week after The Burn and will be returning to Chicago on the 5th. I hope to hit the ground running after this annual mind fuck. For the first time since I moved out of my parents house at 16 I'll be living in the same place for more than a year. It's extremely pleasant to not have to worry about moving. The end of 2008 is shaping up to be awesome. I will get a full time job in the social work field and apply to UIC.
Primary relationship - check
Life Plans - check
It's been a while since I've checked in. I don't know where to start. I had to ask my parents for money, something which feels quite a bit like failure but I enjoy the finer things in life like food and shelter. My mom was in Chicago overnight due to O'Hare air traffic controllers delaying her flight back to Sacramento from New Jersey. I accidentally came out to her as into BDSM. I'd figured that she knew; she thought I was just "into biker chicks." Oops. That was awkward. Thankfully, she's a good feminist who believes that consenting adults can do whatever they damn well please.
My plan to do temp work up until Burning Man and finding a job in the social work field is going poorly. I haven't had a temp assignment, except for a single day, for the past two weeks. Hence the asking for money.
I tried reading Mrs. Dalloway but my attention span is too short to read through all those semicolons. I picked up Spook Country, instead. Gibson is much more my speed at the moment than Woolf.
I'd write more but my head hurts from staring at the screen for too long. My Tumblr blog is getting some major links, one from Violet Blue and another from Melissa Gira.
It's almost 2am and I'm seriously not sleepy. I don't really have a desire to personal blog these days. Things are happening. Relationship with Amanda is going remarkably well. I'm going to try to stop being amazed that she loves me back. I'm sounding a bit like a broken record with it. My self confidence is totally bizarre. Half the time I'm feeling like the kid I was at Germantown: weird, undesirable, alone. The other half I think about where I am now and that I'm pretty hot shit and of course she loves me. Who wouldn't? By the end of this year I want a steady job in some kind of social service. I want to have been accepted to UIC's MSW program. I want to develop friendships and feel like I have a home.
All I've been searching for all this time is to feel like I belong. I'm only now understanding that it takes work. I have to build my own community, make my own home, and most of all, be myself. I am a charismatic mother fucker when I feel comfortable. I need to project the person I want to be onto others. If they don't like me, it's their problem.
How many times do I have to have this realization? As many times as it takes. Goodnight, internet. Be well.
It's hot. After a break respite with a thunderstorm and wind the temperature is creeping back up and the humidity is lethargy inducing. Or I could just be getting depressed, which hasn't happened for a while. I'm suddenly suddenly faced with free time after two months of whirlwind GO GO GO. I've been getting work just a couple days a week from my temp agency and my classes finished up (I got an A in Human Biology and a B in US History, btw.) The guilt of a life wasted is slowly creeping back in and the overwhelming fear of what happens next is setting over me.
I was not expecting to fall in love again. I wasn't expecting to have thoughts of hands and lips racing through my head at all hours. I wasn't expecting to jump at the sound of my phone, hoping she was calling or texting, to miss her as soon as the door shut, to have the thought of the next time I see her be the happiest thought I can think. My goodness, I wasn't expecting any of this.
More than tongues passing through lips
We speak passion vivacious and unsubtle
Of triumph of action and persistent desire
On this we thrive enticing seduction
Energy lubricates personalities and I
Worship at the feet of presence
[xx] how was your weekend?
[me] amazing
[me] I told Amanda that I love her.
[me] She initially responded by grabbing me and saying lets have sex
[me] and later that night said that she loved me too
[me] I SWAM IN A LAKE AND SAW STARS
Some day I'll blog for realz, I swear.
