The story of Spork.

[Spork]

So I did not expect any precipitation in the forecast, and I stepped out to some light snow this morning and a very overcast sky. Surprise, surprise.

I need to call my regular doctor and get in, they called me yesterday and told me that they had the results of my thyroid ultrasound but I need to schedule with her to go over them apparently. Fine... But I don't care what anyone thinks, I do my own research when I can, to have some notion of what might be going on. I try not to get all paranoid, but if I know I have a condition and I experience some kind of new thing, I look it up to see if symptom A might be related to condition B. And the "doomy" feelings I have had on and off for a while, should absolutely be considered medical symptoms, and I need to get in soon. So I'll get on top of that today and call and proceed...

I was thinking about it this morning in the shower, because I was having this happen, and I was trying to analyze what I was feeling. Doom, dread, a feeling of urgency...both cowering under something scary and a sense I needed to do something about something. It's like anxiety, but kind of darker and with more of a sense of inevitability. I was thinking this could be related to like...life stuff, right? Like I was wondering, is it for reasons? Well I did an exercise while I showered, where I thought about one of the worst scariest things life could throw at me right now...having to do with my job...I mentally envisioned that happening and my mind immediately hopped right on the logistics train, which is "Spork-normal"...like I would do this, and then that, and then the other thing, and I'd get by and survive, and it would be alright. No increase in my feelings of stress, anxiety...just felt the same.

This is not the same as being stressed and worried. It seems to have nothing to do with logical thought or real life things. It is connected to a more emotional and less rational part of my self, and so I'm going to go with chemicals being the likely culprit. Google research says thyroid, heart condition possible causes...and my own experience says that this could also be ongoing nicotine withdrawal. In the past when I tried to quit, I may have gotten months into it, but eventually felt similar to this and it caused me to go back to smoking. And I had a bad experience with my vape malfunctioning recently that has me hesitant to use it, so I'm not getting nicotine now.

And sometimes, I'm having waves of intense exhaustion and aches and weakness, followed by a restlessness so powerful I can't be still. Basically what I have been doing with all of this...stuff...I am trying to be still, and listen. Kind of like you would do in a haunted house if you were trying to hear spirits. Only I'm listening to my brain and body, trying to be very mindful of what it's doing, how I am feeling, and what is going on. I'm being very...aware.

Hopefully it won't be too difficult for my doctor to get sorted out. If I'm lucky, with no biopsy. But whatever, I'll do it, it's important.

And yet still, being around Zen straightens me right out. Like, he is GOOD for me. I won't get a ton of time with him for a bit, his work schedule sucks, but we are trying to get together for lunch today if the weather doesn't prevent it. Neither of us likes driving in bad weather, and with a new vehicle I'm still not fully acclimated to, I would really rather not, if the conditions do worsen... So here is hoping for good roads.

 

[Magdlyn]

If it is a hormonal imbalance, it makes sense being with bf makes you feel better, since the hormones from sexual attraction and activity might counteract the drop you feel otherwise.

Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, testosterone, and norepinephrine all must come to the fore if you so much as see his face. He's your antidepressant.

Not to say your thyroid shouldn't be treated, if it needs to be!

 

[Spork]

If it is a hormonal imbalance, it makes sense being with bf makes you feel better, since the hormones from sexual attraction and activity might counteract the drop you feel otherwise.

Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, testosterone, and norepinephrine all must come to the fore if you so much as see his face. He's your antidepressant.

Not to say your thyroid shouldn't be treated, if it needs to be!

Oh, it does.

My reading is that there is a loose correlation between "doom" feelings, including people describing a weird sense of urgency, like something horrible is about to happen and they need to do something about it, but they have no idea what, or what they could possibly do... with issues of the parasympathetic nervous system. Which is the stuff your body is doing but you don't think about, like your digestion, glandular activity, and significantly, heart rate.

I am also going to speak to my primary care doc about getting my heart condition monitored. We haven't done that regularly ever in my life, I did have them do some kind of a study on it when I was going to get my tubes tied, they had to make sure my heart was healthy enough for the anesthesia and surgery. But I have mitral valve prolapse...not in and of itself a major life threatening thing...but an imperfect heart combined with a high thyroid? That's not good.

So what I have told people that I've spoken to... I am not taking this as BAD NEWS, per se. Because from what I understand, it was a ticking time bomb, every woman in my mother's side of the family has had thyroid issues of some sort. Who knows how long mine has had problems or the potential to have problems? Years maybe? It was a hallmark of my marriage to Old Wolf that I did not take care of myself. I didn't need birth control (he had a vasectomy) so I never went to a doctor. Ever. Unless something hurt so bad I couldn't get through it, like a severe sinus infection or something. And then it was in to have that looked at, and done. Well person checkups? Are you joking with me? I was way too busy taking care of everyone else to take care of myself. And making a production of being a martyr and a victim of the uncaring and unsupportive people in my life, while I was at it.

Yeah that philosophy might have killed me, if I had kept it up.

Thankfully that is in the past.

So when I left, I started trying to make my physical health a bit higher of a priority. The quitting smoking, taking better care of my teeth...those things I accomplished last year... Now this thyroid thing has been discovered, and with medical attention, it WON'T kill me. It was only bound to really be dangerous, if I ignored it. I'm not ignoring it now. So that is GOOD news.

And my understanding is that the drugs are cheap, so unless we arrive at some kind of apocalypse where no one can get whatever meds they need to live anymore, I will be just fine. The only worry I have now, is whether I might have to alter my diet once my "magical metabolism" that has probably kept me thin my whole life, gets "corrected." Maybe.

Or maybe not, I mean...I would like to exercise more and I think I need to do that. I love walking and hiking and it's part of the changes I wish to make in my life, to do more of that. But I really do NOT want to change my eating habits. That is my "selective eating disorder" food OCD talking...and I don't think that my diet is all terrible. I think most Americans have this mindset that unless you are tormenting yourself with all rabbit food and nothing that tastes nice, then clearly you're a junk food gobbling slob...well there is a middle ground that has a lot to do with habits and moderation I think. Maybe.

I like a lot of things that are healthy. Beans! I love beans. Yeah, I have a sweet tooth, but it's more readily satisfied with cinnamon and honey, than with a candy bar from the checkout line. I used to obsessively eat cereal, but I've found in recent years that I can't consume a lot of milk, it upsets my stomach, but I'm still alright with cheese, for the most part. I don't drink soda very much, I might get one occasionally if I'm eating out, but I'll sip at it and rarely drink more than 1/4-1/3 of it. I don't like soda, really. I don't care to eat or drink things that make my belly uncomfortable.

I do eat a lot of white breads and pastas, because the seedy or grainy texture of many wheat options doesn't please me much. And maybe with the eggs and cheese and meat, my diet might have a bit much fat, I don't know (or particularly care.) I don't like fatty beef, like burgers. I eat a lot of chicken, and love bison when I can afford it. Thing is...I have such a sensitive palate that there are many things that are "bad" for me, that I just don't want to eat, or can only tolerate in tiny amounts.

That's another thing... I don't necessarily exhibit all the signs of hyperthyroidism. I don't have a huge appetite, most of the time I'm a nibbler. I don't have a lack of tolerance for heat, my hands are always cold and I hate being cold. But when I sleep, I "run hot"...everyone says I'm like a little furnace when I'm sleeping. I don't sweat a whole lot, but sometimes I do, I think it's pretty normal. I don't have a lot of "nervous" anxiety...just lately that "doomy" stuff. My heart has not been racing. My blood pressure is always low.

I "should" be nervous and agitated, high blood pressure and heart rate, hot and sweaty and easily overheated, and able to eat lots with a big appetite but never gain any weight. The only thing that actually does line up here, is that I don't seem to gain weight despite not deliberately dieting or exercising, when other women in my family seem to have to put tons of effort into weight management. But then my Mom can sit down and eat an entire pound of fudge in a sitting and I want to throw up after 3 bites. ??? *shrug* ???

But I absolutely do agree that my Zen is my Zen in not only the sense of his cool "Zen stories" and speaking in bumper stickers and his amazing and empathic way of loving me and the happiness and peace and healing he has brought to my life, but also in a strictly chemical and hormonal way, too.

And it's not only the sight of his face, I process him with all of my senses and noticing or even thinking of, say, his natural scent or the touch of his hands even just when he holds my hands, his voice in my ear...I can get small jolts of happy-brain just by shutting everything else out and thinking of a remembered bit of Zen related sensory input. Of course doing that also triggers a small jolt of sexual arousal, too.

 

[Hannahfluke]

Did your doctor specifically tell you that they tested your thyroid levels and you have hyperthyroidism? I ask, not because I doubt what you're saying, but because, normally, routine blood tests measure your thyroid stimulating hormone, not your thyroid level itself, I guess it's easier to measure the stimulating hormone or something. If it was the thyroid stimulating hormone that they measured and that number was high, you have hypothyroidism, not hyperthyroidism, since when the stimulating hormone numbers are high it means you're not producing enough thyroid hormone and your body is trying to compensate for that with releasing more hormones that activate thyroid activity.

 

[Spork]

Did your doctor specifically tell you that they tested your thyroid levels and you have hyperthyroidism? I ask, not because I doubt what you're saying, but because, normally, routine blood tests measure your thyroid stimulating hormone, not your thyroid level itself, I guess it's easier to measure the stimulating hormone or something. If it was the thyroid stimulating hormone that they measured and that number was high, you have hypothyroidism, not hyperthyroidism, since when the stimulating hormone numbers are high it means you're not producing enough thyroid hormone and your body is trying to compensate for that with releasing more hormones that activate thyroid activity.

Hm... Well, I have a "nodule" and they said about my bloodwork that my "levels" were "high"... So that is a very good question.

Maybe I assumed that meant hyperthyroidism because of how anomalous my metabolic activity is and always has been, given what I ought to be genetically predisposed to.

My Mom always blamed her hypothyroidism for her weight problems, after all.

I will find out more when I go see my regular doctor, I'm sure.

 

[Spork]

In other news not related to my annoying health condition...

A local friend of mine said on Facebook today, that it looks like a black and white photograph outside. And that is true. It has snowed (thankfully not sticking to pavement) and the cars are covered, the ground, the trees have a coat sticking to their every twig and limb. And the sky is stark white. I call this "snowvercast" because it is that peculiar kind of overcast you only get with winter and snow...a pure pale sky of light grey or nearly white. We had a lot of fog last night. If it were only a little colder, we'd have had ice all over everything.

And while I was wierded out by the temps in the 60's just a few days ago, I also find that this particular kind of weather makes me a bit starved for color. I recall traveling through the mountain passes and emerging in Oregon where the highway switchbacks down towards Pendleton, and how when we made that trip it was weather like this all the way through the mountains, and by the time we got out, I was half convinced I'd lost the ability to even SEE color, there just wasn't any. All stark black and white... And then you come out and you're looking out over the rolling farmlands of that part of Oregon, lit by the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun, and the land looks like it's made of patchworks of purest silk. Light greens and pinks and golds. I have tried and tried to find a photo online of just what that looked like, and I cannot, sadly. But it was beautiful. Sometimes I wonder if I imagined it, if my color-starved brain made more of it than it was, like your palate makes of a meal when you're very hungry. I doubt if I will ever know the answer to that question.

I got my dose of Zen-dorphins at lunch yesterday, sitting at Cracker Barrel with my back to a happy little fire in a great big fireplace on a cold day, it was really nice. Then after work, I went down to Old Wolf's house...voluntarily...just to sit and spend a bit of time with him. He is terrified of what he is about to do, and rightly so. He has never driven an RV, and he's about to drive one built in 1978 that he knows very little about (except for a handful of things he is aware of that are wrong with it, which he's using the MacGuyver method to fix...such as a propane heater that doesn't work, he's planning to disconnect it from the attached empty tank which he doesn't know how to refill, and hose it up to the kind of tank you get for your BBQ grill from a gas station, and just run it like that. This is one of half a dozen examples he's talked about.) He cannot afford to have a mechanic look at it, and he probably does not have enough money for gas. And he's planning to tow his Equinox behind this monstrosity, all the way from Colorado to Eugene, Oregon. Oh, and even though traveling with drugs and guns got him in trouble once before (cops pulled him over, frisked him, found the tiniest crumb of pot in one pocket, and used that as cause to tear apart his vehicle, then they found his guns and confiscated them...he got them back eventually, but it cost us thousands in legal fees) he is almost certainly going to be transporting pot, paraphernalia, and definitely his gun safe full of firearms with him. And when he gets there, he's going to live in this thing somewhere on the property of his old flame from over 20 years ago, whose long term boyfriend is not remotely happy about this entire situation. Even if he does manage to spook her guy enough for him to leave, and "win the girl"...he's setting up to make all the same mistakes he's always made with women, and they even have sexual incompatibilities that he already knows about, having to do with health conditions she now suffers from. He's desperately on a quest to get to a place where there just isn't any real satisfaction waiting for him, but he has convinced himself that this is what he has to do.

So. Sometimes I go. I sit. I listen. I attempt to give advice as I may. I give him a hug when I leave. I wish him well, though it's beyond me to hope that any of this insanity results in a happy ending.

He expects to be leaving sometime this weekend, maybe early next week.

Oh, and he no longer has a job here, or waiting for him there. He badgered them into firing him because he wanted to get on unemployment, and now he's having a hard time getting it to go through. He told me the reasons for this and that, and I don't care, nor wish to try and remember to spell it out here. But this is the kind of thing he does, he's done it before.

That poor woman. But you know, just like the one he moved in from Tennessee, that I wrote about in the beginning of my blog, there isn't much I can do to warn her, because at this stage, he's always got them thinking it's all going to work out...he is so insistent that he's got this plan and that plan, and he bowls them over with the lengths he'll go to, to make any crazy plan work. It's not until they're dealing with him 24/7 for a minute, then they see what they have gotten themselves into. I wonder how long it will take for Song to figure out she's made a mistake letting him come, and how much longer after that before she tells him and makes him leave...and where he will go when that happens?

It isn't my problem. But I wonder.

Meanwhile, I have stuff this weekend at Voodoo, and next weekend is the party I'm in charge of. And the very cool hairless Domme from Denver, will be down in our neck of the woods, teaching a "biofeedback breathing" class, and I will be there with bells on. Well. OK, maybe no bells, that would be annoying. I love to flirt with her. She is one...I wish I could play with her, even maybe have a kinky and sexual encounter like once perhaps. She turns me on. I don't think I could relationship with her, for one thing the distance would be annoying, but I'd like to get frisky with her on occasion just for fun. I don't know if she'd go for that, but we've flirted a bit. Like she scares me in ways that I like. Then we've got Valentine's Day and Zen's Birthday. Man... I wish I had money. Lots of it, and no serious stuff to be squirreling it for. The kind of "disposable" income I used to have once upon a time. Or thought I did. Whatever. I wish I could comfortably afford to shower luxury upon my Zen. Just take him to some kind of a resort, with hot springs or a hot tub or something, and solitude and privacy and give him gifts and feed him delicious things, surprise him with a bunch of new toys and get our fill of love and sex and snuggles and kink and relaxation and pleasure. Like that is what I want. Can I afford that? Sadly, no, not if I want to achieve our goal of getting moved in together later this year, I need to save up my part of it. And I have other expenses to concern myself with, too.

So.

One day.

In the meantime I have to discipline myself not to go overboard for his Birthday and I look forward to giving him what I can...plenty of my time and affection...and maybe ~some~ gifts and toys...

 

[FeatherFool]

No, that's a real thing; that colour thing. Living in the Far North I do, we have constant snow cover from September to May- last year we had a snowfall in June. And it IS really monochromatic and it often seems like colour never really existed, somehow. It makes the colour that does exist really stand out, for sure.

But... there is beauty in winter, too. I think all the black and white makes the sky look bluer. And sometimes when it gets really really cold the moisture in the air freezes into tiny tiny crystals (not snowflakes) and it swirls all round with the wind and makes these gorgeous frozen rainbows you can walk though. Very very cool.

I guess I'm just feeling fond of winter right now

 

[Spork]

I'm generally not a fan of being cold.

I get cold easily and have difficulty warming up, especially my hands and feet. I much prefer heat, and unlike most people I know, I like humidity just fine, too.

But...I do like how in Colorado because of the altitude and dryness, certain insect populations just don't thrive like they do in the humid lowlands...cat and dog fleas being a notable example...so I have never even had to treat my cat for fleas. It's a problem we simply don't worry about. Having lived through cat flea infestations before, I am properly thankful for that particular blessing.

And it's a reason I love it here in Colorado, that our winters really are not that bad. We will have temps in the 50's here today. From what I've seen so far, the normal pattern is that we'll get a cycle of cold and warmth that will go on about a weekly basis. It'll warm up, and then go cold with maybe snow, and then warm up again, and our warm spells are at least in the 50's if not the 60's. The snow does not stay. And we have not had a significant snow event yet this season, but I expect we will. It seems like winter is not terribly wintery here, but spring is. We can't count on the snow being pretty much over, until like late May or June. In fact last year we had snow in May.

Yesterday and today I have had trouble with feeling uncomfortably cold, but it hasn't been that cold outside. I turned the heat up a bit yesterday and then took a nap, and when I woke up it was 80 degrees in my apartment (I'd only set the heat to like 71, but it was a sunny day) and I had to actually turn OFF the heat to try and get things back to normal.

I am really hoping that getting my thyroid regulated will make me feel...more normal. Less noticing odd stuff like difficulties in my body temperature regulation, and "weird" or "doomy" feelings...I keep looking back and remembering times when I felt pretty much ok pretty much always, even when life was super hard and I had every reason to be freaked out, and I sorta want that easy coping and "everything is fine" feeling back. I hope that someone cancels and I'm able to get in sooner than the 21st.

So FeatherFool was talking about art, and I was thinking about art. I have some issues with art education. So I went into a "super serious portfolio prep" art class in 12th grade when I moved to Cincinnati. Now, art classes in high school back in Virginia were just basically fooling around learning how to use different media. They had fairly loose guidelines on what you were meant to be doing, but they were there to give a nod to "the arts" but with no real expectation that anybody was preparing a portfolio, or heading into art school. Which is odd, since VCU has a pretty good art department from what I understand, I mean certain members of GWAR were involved in that and I think Brockie actually got an arts degree from VCU. But whatever. I went from not very serious art classes, to a serious art class. I think I had some talent, but when I did make a finished piece, I usually gave it away to someone I cared about. I was not building any sort of a portfolio. I had just a folder full of drawings and stuff. And the teacher gave me a really hard time and a really dismissive attitude, and said, "This class is for serious artists, not kids who doodle on notebooks." I got very upset. I lost a lot of confidence in my own artistic process. And as we went on through that class, I had a similar feeling of upset to what I do regarding sex sometimes... The parallel, I find it interesting. So he showed us art that was legitimate according to him, and according to...people. The "art community." And I hated it. I didn't like the look of it, it wasn't to my taste. I would never have wanted it hanging in my home. He showed us a weird distorted and out of proportion nude woman, and said that the artist, "reinvented the figure." I was like...so...you can do that? Just do it wrong, and say you "reinvented" it? And people like that? I don't.

But of course, my opinion is not a valid one, I'm not going into the Art Academy. I am not cool like these punk rock lesbians with their so very edgy green hair and their gallery exhibitions. I'm nobody. My expression doesn't count, and clearly while my taste is valid to my own self, it isn't something I should expect others to understand or agree with. Funny. I love making art, I know that there is pleasure to be had in it. But sometimes when I contemplate actually starting a new project, I get the same "brakes" feeling in my gut, as when I contemplate initiating sex with someone. Why? I know it's good. The "brakes" feeling is that..."find an excuse, don't do it, say no, I don't feel like it right now" thing. Many many have been the times I've gone ahead and had sex even with the brakes on. I've had lots of unfulfilling experiences, and some that even wound up being pretty good, or even I got through it with my brakes on, and once it is OVER and I was relaxing with the person, I felt good. I am not talking about any post orgasmic afterglow, either, I mean even with the majority of partners with whom I did not even get off. Afterwards I still felt maybe a little oxytocin kick or something, I felt good about me and them and being in that moment. Or not. Point is, I often felt the urge to stop sex from happening but I shut up about it and did it anyways. That was most of my experiences. I didn't feel like I was entitled to say no....and I still struggle with that anyways. But partners who are able to actually turn off my brakes, so I can fully enjoy accelerating into pleasure and enjoyment, are RARE. Really rare. And for some reason, my artistic creativity and motivation to use it, feels extremely similar where it's rare that my brakes are off enough for me to really engage with that part of my brain, and actually make art. And I feel like there have been limiting lines of code written into my brain-matrix that activate when I'm not looking.

And I've been doing all sorts of self-work trying to figure out my love/sex/romance/relating bad code and try to get that repaired...but there are other areas like my art stuff that I need to work on, too, where I'm limiting myself in ways I wish I were not, for reasons I have not even begun to think about. And I find it VERY interesting how it feels exactly the same. If I tap into the memory of being judged as inferior in that art class, and then how I feel in regard to creating, the emotional response is identical to when I think about porn (not elaborating into how some is better than other, just the concept, the basic normal "stuff" that comes with the word)...that feeling of shrinking away from sexuality. It's like this whole thing that other people "get" and I don't....it taps a primitive feeling of being rejected by other humans, being outside the group, not accepted, different, not loved.

I have worked out that with porn, if I twist that wire together with a rare and special "brakes off" partner (Zen) and a dash of power dynamic, the "off" becomes an "on." The path to overcoming the bad feelings lies in that direction.

An adaptation I've found with regard to art, is that if a piece has not reached a certain stage where I'm confident that it will be good, no one can see it. My fledgling works that might end up in the trash get seen by NO ONE. I call brand new ideas I'm just starting, in their "fragile infancy." Yet it is still incredibly difficult to push past the initial "brakes on" feeling to get started on anything new. I wonder what will help me with that initial motivation...and I wonder what will help me feel more legit and valid about my art. I feel like my main illegitimacy as an artist is in that I don't create nearly enough...but the "brakes on" feeling prevents me from creating more. Kind of a vicious cycle...

 

[Spork]

...And for anyone who winds up reading "Come As You Are" or already has, you will understand some of the intrigue of my present thought ramble. Not only did I lift the "brakes" and "accelerator" concepts from the book, but I am quite sure that as the author describes good, engaging sexual experiences as a matter of playfulness and creativity and such, the connection to struggles I have with actually being creative as an artist feeling sometimes similar to difficulties I've had with being sexual would not surprise her (the author) one bit.

That brakes feeling for me, is "inhibition."

It's the same feeling I get if anyone asks me to try, in front of others, something that I know I'm not good at. Dancing in front of people who know how to dance properly, learn to speak a language full of sounds your mouth doesn't know how to make, here, hold this guitar and do as I tell you to learn to play it while others watch, start an art project that looks amazing in your mind but might completely fall short in actual reality, do something you aren't an expert in and you might disappoint other people. Look, this is how it's done. Do it like this. I can't. And I'm scared. No, I don't want to try.

There is only one defense I know of: "I'm just fooling around, I have no investment in the outcome. I really don't care." That is the attitude I had to have while learning to play pool. I wanted to be a good player, and was happy when I played well, but I had to pretend that it didn't matter if I succeeded or failed, because that was my defense against anyone possibly attacking me over not being better. Not that any of my friends were poised to do so, but hey...in MY mind, there are these imagined Dire Consequences for not being good enough.

It's so funny, I come off as this Super Extrovert, like so brave and confident...yeah, TALKING to people is easy. But doing stuff, especially if I feel like there are Big Scary Expectations that I'll try something other people can do just fine...when I know I will fail and as soon as my failures are seen and known, my cover will be blown and no one will like me. I only pretend to be cool. I'm not really. Not actually. Still just the nerdy, awkward kid, deep down inside. I often feel like a complete sham.

I understand that other people drink alcohol to overcome this sometimes. I loathe the taste of the stuff, somewhere between medicine and rotten (fermented = rotten to me, not to be consumed)...and I can detect it under any attempt to mask its flavor. So I have never in my life been drunk. And I have seen people with their inhibition switched off, in a drunk state, do horrible things or have horrible things done to them, so I don't want to. It seems utterly unsafe, scary and repulsive, to me.

And so, releasing inhibitions is an area of difficulty that affects multiple activities I might otherwise be more successful or comfortable in.

Simply trying to learn how to turn off the "brakes."

 

[Spork]

Posted that other stuff, then got busy for a bit, but I wanted to come back and share that Zen did indeed collar me this weekend. We didn't make a big fuss of a ceremony or anything, which is quite fine, I wouldn't know where to even begin with all of that, but he put it on me, and we did a fun scene, even though he was tired from work, he came down to the club for this and I was glad.

And I love it. We don't do 24/7 Master/slave stuff, so I don't feel I need to try and wear it at work, but I'll wear it when we're together, and I'll wear it to community functions.

It's perfect, because I love the steampunk aesthetic, but also the gears feel good to me as a metaphor for how happy and connected I feel with him. Like things just fit and work for me, with him. Yeah. So I wanted to show off a bit...

 

[Tinwen]

Aaaah, I just want a like button on that Very nice, I hope you are enjoying Does it feel as you expected?

 

[Spork]

It feels great, so long as I wear it on the looser notch. There are basically two buckle holes I CAN wear it on, and if I didn't have this thyroid business going on, I'd wear it on the tighter one...and I can wear it that way for a short-ish time frame. But the thyroid issue has me feeling, not pain, but like I've got "something" in my throat, and having the collar pressing on that spot is not terribly comfortable. The main difference is that on the tighter notch it rides higher on my neck, on the looser one, it sits at the bottom by my collarbone.

So I take it out to the one looser notch and it's quite fine, and looks nice that way. The photo was taken with it at the looser setting, so you really can't tell, I don't think. I wore it all evening last night and it was quite comfortable.

I just got an email from my insurance company...they want me to install an app on my phone, which they say they'll give me a discount for, and "rewards" for safe driving...but it tracks me. I'm not exactly comfortable with being tracked and scrutinized. But at the same time I'm thinking there have to be at least half a dozen (or more) functions on my phone tracking my activity, and location, and listening in to every conversation I have, and so on, at all times. It's like we've all been convinced to carry our own high tech surveillance devices around. So I don't know if I should go ahead and save a few bucks, what difference does it REALLY make? But at the same time, I know that for instance, Analyst, would be tsk tsk'ing at me for voluntarily agreeing to something like this...

*sigh* I dunno. Why does technology have to be so damned intrusive and creeptastic nowadays? And is it worth it for the security and convenience we get, being connected with our cell phones? I wonder.

It's another warm day here in Colorado Springs. Gonna be in the 60's again. Zen was complaining that the wasps are coming out around his backyard, and I got chased by a yellowjacket outside on break the other day. Guess they take advantage of any warm breaks in the weather to get out and do some important waspy activities... "Yay! The sun is out! I must go forth and be a stabby little fucker!"

Busy busy, the rest of this week. I have work stuff I have to do at work, I have to make sure I'm properly prepared for the party, I have stuff going on after work every single night this week. And Q is trying to convince me he doesn't feel good and shouldn't be at school...so far, his arguments, via text:

1. I think we all have a bug, you seem tired, too.
2. I want a day to rest before we go to Dad's house and go through the shed.
3. I don't feel great and neither do any of my friends.
4. One of the coaches said that lots of people had the "blue flu." Or maybe it's the bird flu. I don't know.

I remain unconvinced. I think he's just teenagering. Like he came home and took a nap, and stayed up too late, and now he's tired. I'm not so keen to let him miss school, though I'd love an excuse to leave early, myself. We did that a couple of weeks ago. Anyhow he knows the drill. I'm no longer going to pay attention to his texts, if he can convince a school nurse to call me, I'll come and get him. At least his grades are improving. A lot, actually.

My older son, Ninja, on the other hand... So his Dad harassed him to hurry up and pack up and move out, which he has. He's moved in with friends of the family, who are decent enough folks, I think he'll be ok. But he has really let his grades go in the last couple weeks of all this. And his Dad didn't care as long as he was hurrying up and packing and getting moved, so that he could go to Oregon, what his grades looked like. His Dad, at this point, figures that whether the boy graduates or not is now somebody else's problem. He says he will come back to attend Ninja's graduation, but ONLY because (and he emphasizes this repeatedly) Song insists that he must, and she will make him do the right thing. Great, way to make sure your boys know that they aren't important to you, unless the woman you've attached yourself to SAYS they have to be. Jerk. Stupid crazy jerk. Feh.

Why am I talking about him again? I need to stop doing that.

So. Zen last night, wonderful. But I did warn him, if he was gonna do what he did to me, he might ought to put the mattress protector on the bed... It's HIS fancy mattress...

Today, have to run to Walmart to return a product that I can't use, and then off to the initial consult with the lawyer after work. I've done all the preliminary work that I needed to, to prepared for this bankruptcy, it's time to get rolling on it. I guess I feel a little less sucky about it knowing that one of my biggest debts is held by a company that supports the Dakota Access Pipeline. I feel slightly less bad stiffing them, knowing that, not that I have much choice in the matter at this point. I can't afford to pay these debts.

The thing I have to return at Walmart...I am desperately searching for a replacement product to wash my face with. I loved what I was using but they quit making it. It was St. Ives Timeless scrub, and they reformulated all of their products and discontinued that one kind. Well basically it was a nice cream that rinsed completely clean, and only had sparse bits of the apricot stuff in it...now what they sell is more watery and sandpapery. No thanks. And other products I've found...I have to avoid the acne ingredients that dry my skin, and I can't use anything with menthol of any kind, that really bothers me, too. I just want a nice cleansing cream, and I can't seem to find anything good. I am so tired of buying products, trying a bit, and not being able to use them, and they are costly. So I'm returning this one, I'll tell them I just bought the wrong thing or something. I'm not gonna eat the cost of it. It was a "simple" cleanser and it smelled awful and left an oily feeling on my face. Bleh.

*sigh* It always happens. I get so attached to a particular product, of course they quit making it.

And tomorrow I'm meeting Zen for lunch, then going down (one last time!) to Old Wolf's house to pick up the last bits of whatever stuff he's leaving behind that I want or need. Thursday I have a discussion group, and Friday...well, I am torn, I want to have sex with Zen, who is off work that night, but it's also Game Night at Voodoo, which I love. I so enjoy playing Cards Against Humanity with my kinky friends. I figure I'll wait and see what my love is in the mood for. I would be content and happy either way.

Saturday is the big day, the Angels and Demons party at Voodoo, which I'm decorating and providing music for. I sure hope that the Queen doesn't have a problem with me hanging stuff from the ceiling...

 

[Spork]

I went to the lawyer, yesterday, and he says that mine looks like a pretty clear cut case of Chapter 7, and that divorce and bankruptcy go hand in hand, and that I will look back on this as a great decision. Well spiffy. Personally I feel so much better about it now, thinking of it as a form of protest. Most of my debt is held by Wells Fargo. Seattle just told them to go fuck themselves, and I'm doing the same. I've already moved my checking account to a small local bank.

I told lawyer guy some of the preliminary steps I have taken in the last few weeks since I realized this was going to have to happen, and he says I'm very on top of it and doing all the things I should be doing.

OK so now I'm slightly questioning my decision to employ a lawyer in this, if only because it's going to cost quite a bit and delay my filing until I can pay him. I feel like the main benefit to doing this with a lawyer is that he'll field collections calls, but I'm not even getting those yet, and I can screen my incoming calls on my cell phone just fine. So really the only reason I'm paying him (and I'm having to throw an extra $1,000 at this just to have a lawyer involved) is to make quite sure that the paperwork is all in order so that my filing is not rejected or anything, and it all goes through smooth and correct like. What is my confidence level that I could personally do all of that without his help? Like 75%-80%. Especially now that I've got some confirmation from him on how certain things are handled, from our conversation last night. But there's just a nagging little feeling that it's risky to undertake the process on my own with no representation. So....yeah.

Mainly my stress isn't even coming up with the money, it's the fact that I need to be saving for the move in June, I need to go super-frugal if I'm gonna make that happen, and Zen and I have been talking about conventions...Got StarFest, ComicCon, and Thunder on the radar... Well, I might have recovered enough to help out with the cost of Thunder by the time it happens. That will be after the move. The others, not so much.

Also, I am planning for "worst case scenario" in terms of cost, at my cap rent of $1,500...but many of the properties I've seen come and go on the market that are suitable for our needs are closer to $1300-$1400. So maybe we'll get lucky. And I can always try to make some art to sell, maybe sell some of my GWAR memorabilia, when we get close to time to move.

Heck. Here's an odd thing. The lawyer knew damn well who GWAR was. Old Jewish bankruptcy lawyer in a fancy office in a big fancy building, he's like "Oh yeah, I'm familiar with them." You know...rock just doesn't feel rebellious anymore, somehow... Jane's Addiction was right. Nothing's shocking.

I'm sensing maybe my lesson from the universe is to be more timely in figuring out what I need to do financially, and doing it. Because I lingered in Old Wolf's house, hoping that money would get better and circumstances would get more friendly for both of us (mostly him though honestly) and it hurt me. And I held off on the bankruptcy trying to tread water on my debts for too many months, when I could have done this back in November, once the divorce was final. Could have done the divorce sooner, too. I dragged my feet, when acting swiftly would have served me better. I'm sensing a theme...

 

[powerpuffgrl1969]

Don't second-guess yourself as fair as retaining a lawyer. It is obvious that you are VERY intelligent, but they just have the experience dealing with the bankruptcy stuff, and this is something that you DEFINITELY want to have done correctly, with a minimum of stress on you.

 

[Spork]

Don't second-guess yourself as fair as retaining a lawyer. It is obvious that you are VERY intelligent, but they just have the experience dealing with the bankruptcy stuff, and this is something that you DEFINITELY want to have done correctly, with a minimum of stress on you.

Yeah, I hear ya.

It's just, I view money as nothing but a series of choices, or a sort of logic puzzle. I've got my income, I've got my bills, I've got my regular expenses, which are a constant stream of small choices, and big expenses which are larger choices and events to be handled as best I can. I worry about putting an extra $1K into this, knowing the other obligations I have, and ones that are on the horizon. I worry about all the things, and I worry about making the wrong choices with the resources I have. But my worry is not stressful worrying, it's just turning the puzzle over and over, trying to see if there isn't a BEST solution.

I hate looking back and wishing I had done things differently. And it happens too often. I want an eraser, I want a do-over, I wish I could go back and tweak a thousand unfortunate choices. But we don't get that. So I worry about the ones I'm trying to make today.

I went to Old Wolf's house. Got pretty much everything I need to take, at least everything I know of. I still want to look into the contents of one storage room, if he is leaving behind any of our old camping gear, I want to take that. It only occurred to me when I was about to leave, and I didn't want to go deal with it then. But I'm friends with the tenants and they are cool with me coming back to look at that stuff.

The ex is off on his journey, in his 1978 RV, towing his Equinox, through the mountains in February with no chains for his tires, and only MAYBE enough money for gas, first thing tomorrow morning. I'm just floored that anyone can act in such an unbelievably risky way. But whatever. I hope he makes it, and all his dreams come true. Because I'm so done dealing with him.

No more listening to his ramblings. No more sitting in the stinky garage smoking his cigarettes. He is going.

And I have a busy weekend ahead.

Oh, and the weather continues to be nuts. Looking like temps in the 70's (!!!) tomorrow, which is REALLY odd for this time of year and this location, and by Sunday highs will only be in the 30's with snow expected. But I'm guessing it might snow but probably won't stick too much, the pavement will be warm and it'll melt probably unless we get a LOT of it. Then it'll warm again into the 50's early next week. Now. Our warm spells in between snow events, from what I've seen living here since 2011, are often into the 50's and occasionally into the 60's even. But several days of 60's getting into the 70's is just WEIRD. Fire danger is up, too, because it's not just warm, it's dry and windy. Perfect fire conditions, unless and until we get some rain or snow this weekend. Meanwhile, tornadoes wrecking Louisiana and massive snowstorms burying the northeast or so I hear. The weather has gone insane.

But hey. Climate change is a hoax, man.

 

[Spork]

So here's a post about GWAR.

I told my lawyer the other day that my collection of memorabilia has lost a lot of value. This is true. I'd say that the value is linked to the..."stock price" or interest level or popularity or whatever that the band itself has, and much of that has to do with what they're doing.

Pre 2014, they had been climbing in popularity. They had a setback when a lead guitarist died in 2011, just after their bassist Casey Orr left and was replaced by Jamison Land, it was on Land's very first tour with them that they were about to cross the border into Canada on a tour, and stopped the bus to gather passports, and discovered Cory Smoot, lead guitarist, dead in his bunk of a heart attack at age 34. I remember how it felt to get that news. My blood ran cold. I didn't know Smoot well, had only met him a couple of times, but I was already feeling fairly close to singer Dave Brockie (everyone who met him felt close to him because he was like that)...and I was imagining the pain my friend was in, and the hardship my favorite band was suffering.

They finished the tour that year. Only canceled a date or three, dealing with things. Decided it was best to say goodbye carrying on their work and let the fans grieve, too. I remember both the Seattle and the Portland shows very well. I was backstage for both. The first night, Dave seemed to be coping ok...it was a good night. The next night it was hitting him harder, and an obnoxious gaggle of women were feeding him drugs, and I was worried absolutely sick about him.

That was this night, the night this photo was taken:

That is guitarist Mike Derks on the left, comforting a grieving Dave Brockie.

These are REAL people. Very real. Dave did not act like a rockstar. He treated everyone else like one.

Which is why his death devastated so many, myself included. Easily the hardest loss I've yet to face. It was so unexpected. And yet...not. I saw him in October of 2013. The bus broke down outside of Albuquerque, and they had vans hauling band and gear around. I was coincidentally in the same hotel as the guys. And the guys were sharing rooms. Dave begged me, to stay in my room, where I had two beds and the room to myself, he said, "Don't make me share a bed with Jamison? Come on, pleeease??"

I had a rule (I was married then) that I would not have men in my hotel rooms...but I broke it for Dave. He did try to "put moves" on me, having had a few Angry Orchards, when normally he respected my married and faithful self, and I told him no, and made him stay on his side of the room and behave. Something he thanked me for the next day when he sobered up. We went to breakfast, talked about matchmakering Derks with a mutual friend of ours from Texas, who had a crush on him. I remember hearing him through the bathroom door singing U2's "No Line on the Horizon" in the shower. But when I left, I gave him a hug, and I forgot something and had to go back and then got a second hug the second time I left, and he held it, held me in that hug for a long time. And I remember walking away pulling my little suitcase on wheels and feeling a heavy, heavy sadness. Almost despair. At the time, I figured that I had passed up the one chance I ever might have had, to take my friendship with Dave to a sexytime place, and that was why I was sad, that a door had permanently closed on that ever being possible...though I was glad I'd passed that test of my resolve to not be a cheater, though.

And then that was the last time I ever saw him alive again. In late March of the following spring, they found him dead of a heroin overdose at home.

Strangely, having now healed from that loss, I don't regret not having sex with him, but I wish I'd kissed him. Not sure what that's about, but there it is. I loved him, but then...so many did. He was just good to people. He was a lovable dude.

Since then, I got the chance to grieve with the family, several hundred friends, a Viking funeral was held where they burned his costume, out on the lake (there are videos on Youtube. I was there.)...and there was drama amidst the band and Dave's 90-some-odd year old father. Lines were drawn. People were treated badly. Dave's ashes still are not properly laid to rest, there is no headstone or memorial for us to visit. The band opened a bar, and tried to explode their merchandising and grow their music festival. But this band was always built on zany Dave and his crazy media antics (there are dozens of hilarious videos of him being a goof) and hard work. Touring. And oldschool rebellious artsy punk rock attitude. GWAR was one of the truest homes of smart, nerdy, crusty punkrockers...even when they went metal. They had comic books and tabletop RPGs for heavens sakes!

And I met the man, Michael Bishop, that they got to come back from a long hiatus and take over lead vocals. Bishop used to be the bassist, a long time ago. But he got a big fancy degree, and became this college professor of "ethnomusicology" and yanno... I really like Mike. But he's been a serious grownup for so long. And Dave...was kind of an eternal kid. So when I heard Mike say they hired a team of "business process experts" to handle the expansion of the GWARBQ festival, I knew we had a problem. Mutterings among the old school fans, that GWAR was selling out, that the spirit had died. I resisted as long as I could, but... Last year was the first in four straight years I didn't go to the GWARBQ. Things had changed so much, even the fans were acting different, and I didn't have the money anyways.

They did a short tour last fall, when before Dave died it was a huge fall tour every year and a short spring tour, too. They only hit the eastern part of the US. I felt no compulsion to try and travel to any of their shows...and again, couldn't afford it. No spring tour is happening. No new album released late last year as rumored they might. No box set. And now, they have announced today, no GWARBQ this summer. The news release says that they are taking the year off to prepare a big tour and album.

But it just feels like the guys have squandered all the momentum that Dave worked so hard to build up. Hired a bunch of "experts" when before it was just creativity and crazy ideas driving the decisions. I feel almost like GWAR has given up on itself, and I've been doing the same. And I'm sad. But at the same time, discovery of my local kink scene has kind of replaced my GWAR people as my chosen family and filled my need for community.

And I watch the collectors groups. I know people, still, big collectors of memorabilia...I see things being bought and sold. I know that the value of things has gone down. Maybe that was natural, it artificially peaked right after Dave died anyways. But you know I feel like since we lost him, nothing has been quite right. The universe zigged when it should have zagged. Everything I took for granted being safe, sane, stable, has shaken, crumbled, and fallen apart.

It was right after that, that my ex started acting nuts and my marriage and family started to fall apart. I did not foresee the changes in the fan community and the drama and nastiness that has gone down there, various people I know hit major life crises since 2014, a lot of great entertainers have died, and now all of the social progress I just assumed was the way our country and society was heading is being halted or reversed under trump. I feel like I'm in a parallel universe, sometimes, where things do not make sense anymore, it can be very surreal. I have a different vehicle, when I felt like I'd always have my old van. My health, which I assumed would just continue to be basically fine, now I need to be seeing doctors and paying attention to stuff. I was this brilliant manager of my household finances, and now...bankruptcy. There have been several changes in my family...deaths, divorces, marriages, births, in the last couple of years. Just. It feels like a lot of change. So much, so fast, it's like a vortex of chaos has opened up in the world. Sometimes it's hard to process it all, in the big picture of life. I feel like it has been dictated that everything I have taken for granted for the last 20 years, in a few years' time would be severely altered, destroyed, damaged, or taken.

In a number of cases it seems like the wreck and ruin of old stable things has allowed for new, better, brighter things to spring up and exist. And I am grateful for that. I'm not looking at all of life with a heavy heart today, but sometimes I feel a little lost and bewildered.

 

[AutumnLeaves]

Hugs.

 

[Spork]

The ex has left. He's stuck in Wyoming due to high winds (he's in an RV) so he's sitting, waiting for that situation to abate. And I've had to think about how I feel about the fact that he is finally really gone.

Should I be sad? Angry? Grieving?

Should I be relieved? Happy?

I think the reason this has been confusing, as I tried to figure it out, there was this tiny snarly spark of anger or frustration and working out what was behind that took me a minute. Ego. Pride.

I thought I was indispensable and he knew it. I thought sooner or later, he'd come crawling back, trying to get me back, because he'd realize he couldn't make it without me. Couldn't do the everyday business of being a proper adult without my management and guidance.

But no, despite the fact that I question the sanity or intelligence of his choices, he is prepared to step off and make them.

I mean, I would not have taken him back anyways. Really, having Zen in my life has put the absolute kaibosh on any squirrelly sideways logic that could have seen Old Wolf back with me. Hurt Zen? Leave him? Are you kidding me? Not a chance in hell. I'll fight anybody who tries to hurt him, lol, as silly as it might seem for a little person like me, I feel rather fierce in my love of Zen.

But that doesn't change the fact that uppity, superior, egotistical inner me was waiting for that call, to feel smug about it maybe, or something. It's not a pretty thing to realize about oneself, but it's part of my journey to try and be honest with myself about things, even the ugly things. Maybe especially the ugly things. Got to recognize and understand the impulses in one's mind before one can let the stuff go, right? I think?

Relationships like that one, they call it COdependency for reasons. It's unhealthy from both ends of the equation.

Oh my god. What in the fuck. I'm going through Amazon's music selection, seeking more tunes for the Angels & Demons party. So when I want a well known song, I often try to find an interesting cover of it that maybe people haven't heard. A good one though. AC/DC's Highway to Hell was the song I'm exploring options for right now. Guess what I found. Tiny Tim did a cover of it.

...

Just let that sink in for a minute, ok?

No, it's NOT going on the list.

It sounds like bad, drunk karaoke, seriously.

The issue I'm having for the most part with this song is that people are trying to cover it faithfully, instead of putting different spins and touches on it, which is what I'm looking for. *sigh* Oh well. I mean, if I want a cover that sounds like the original I might as well just go with the original.

The Marilyn Manson version is annoying. EDIT: No, it might have been the Electric Hellfire Club version that was annoying. Yes, perhaps that. Whatever, I forget.

Do you know how hard it is to fill a 4 hour playlist when you're this picky?

Holy fuck there's a version done in the style of like a barbershop quartet acoustic thing. It's actually so weird I might use it, though it's horribly inappropriate in the dungeon, it might make people laugh.

Laughing is good? Right?

/facepalm What am I even doing? I'm not sure I know anymore...

 

[Spork]

Saturday morning 7AM: I woke up to a nightmare that a rogue band of littles (people who pretend to be children, basically) had invaded the dungeon and turned it into their own personal rumpus room and there were toys and stuffies everywhere and I had to rush to clean up their mess so that I could decorate for the Angels & Demons party. I had no help, in this nightmare, and there was a class going on in the other room, and someone kept telling me to keep the noise down, so not only am I trying to corral a small mountain of small children's toys that are all over, but I have to try and do it QUIETLY, and every time I step away and turn around, they've somehow snuck back in and out again and the toys are magically all over the place again.

What a ridiculous dream!

Saturday morning 11AM: I had to run an errand to Walmart for a few last minute party prep items. Fire called me, she was heading over to the club to help decorate but I was running late. I must have sounded very stressed, she was concerned about me, but in reality I was on edge because I was in Walmart and children were screaming, like they do in Walmart, and I needed to get the heck out of there.

Saturday NOON: Went to Swap Meet at the club. Bought some cool impact toys. Found out that the MFing Queen (lady who runs the club) didn't want me to start decorating until later in the evening. I'd planned to be changing into costume, and getting dinner, during that timeslot of the evening...but I was like ok, guess I'll spend it decorating. Fine then. I was able to unload my van of decorations and stuff and then I headed down to Fire and Hefe's house. I spent a few hours hanging out with them, and blew up 46 balloons. It's cool that I quit smoking, as I blew up most of them with my mouth, but Fire found a nifty little hand pump that helped me get the job done faster, so YAY that.

Saturday afternoon: Ran back to the club, stopped at Mickey Deez Nuts (McDonald's) and grabbed some fast food, which I stuffed down my face hole in the five minute drive from there back to Voodoo....which made my belly a little uncomfortable during a "Biofeedback Breathing" course taught by the delightful Saskia the Domme I adore who came down from Denver to teach...it was SO good to see her, I just don't make it to Denver enough. So. She had this thing where you would wear little monitors on your fingers, that could read temp, pulse, and blood oxygen. And they hooked to her laptop, where the software had a program that was all zen-like and meditative, and you could improve your readings by doing this breathing exercise. As your pulse slowed, and oxygen and temp increased, these stairs appear on the screen that eventually lead up to a golden temple on top of a mountain. She did it, two other women did it, and then my Zen sat and did it. She had said that Doms have often a very hard time doing this exercise because they are competitive by nature, and their very desire to do it right and better makes them usually fail to relax enough. Where the subs can often do better with altering their own inner state. So she, and then the two other women, took quite a bit of time to slowly get the stairs added up this ornate pathway from the platform up to the mountain...she and the first of the two gave up and didn't reach the temple. The third eventually did, but it took a while.

Zen sat down and rocked it in like a couple of minutes. She was really surprised and impressed. But then...she does not know him as I do. I was impressed, or pleased, but not surprised.

Saturday evening: I managed, with the help of a couple of my friends in the community, to decorate the dungeon in the Heaven and Hell motifs for the party. I wrapped it up and got into costume just in the nick of time.

Saturday night: The party was awesome! We didn't have a HUGE turnout because there was another event competing on the other side of town, but I thought it was fine. Some of our parties at the club can be almost TOO busy and full of people. Zen conspired a scene with Fire co-topping that was something I've been wanting for a very long time. Lots of exposure, clothespins, a bit of impact, but mostly focused on forced orgasm stuff. Very exposed, very exhibitionist, which pushes some good buttons for me. It felt amazing to have them doing those things to me in a public venue. I am very grateful to both of them for the experience.

Generally speaking, the whole party I thought went very well.

Sunday: Went back down to the club, cleaned up the decorations in like half an hour. ZOOM! Ran a couple errands and then went to a gathering...party...thing.

Gotta talk about that. So I had a cool former supervisor (team leader) who gave me lots of awesome goth clothes. They didn't fit her or she had gravitated away from goth. Well, she went off with the Peace Corps and lived in Africa for about 3 years. Now she is back. She had a welcome back party.

I liked her, I enjoyed seeing her pics and videos on Facebook when she shared them, and I enjoyed hearing about how it was to be in Africa. That was all pretty cool. But I was awkward at her house. Very, very awkward.

She made Zambian food. I took a couple of tiny nibbles of things, but mostly I was all NOPE NOPE NOPE so sorry NOPE. Tiny dried fish with tiny eyeballs staring. Lots of plants. Things made with corn meal and orchid root. At least no bugs? Or pouch rats, which yes, they did eat in her village.

I would not sign up for this. Food and language barriers are among the top reasons. There are areas I feel no desire to grow into.

Also, she was the only person I knew who was there, and everyone else seemed to be a Christian, and she has become one, or more of one than the woman I sort of maybe kind of knew a few years ago...lots of talk about how she was "protected" by the holy spirit and "we are so blessed" and well, uh...that is not my scene. I'm a filthy heathen athiest unbeliever.

I've never even been outside of the continental US. I was surrounded by people I didn't know, discussing subjects I had no point of commonality or relation to, watching them eat food I could not eat... I spent a few minutes watching her video of memories and petting the cat and the dog, but I left as soon as I politely could leave. And I kind of wish I hadn't gone at all. We didn't even have a chance to talk to each other, really.

Oh well. Not every gathering of humans feels like a smashing success, even when you're "oh so extroverted" as I supposedly am. And I still question that. Yeah, I usually can talk to people, even strangers, with some ease. But I get tired and crave peace and quiet and solitude and I definitely want to greet the pets (especially cats) more than I want to greet the humans. And sometimes I still feel very awkward and out of place. If I am uncomfortable, I can be as big an introvert as anyone, or I am reminded that the more extreme introverts I know feel like that ALL the time, or at least a lot more often, around even people of their own...tribe? Kind? Whatever.

Now...I am scheming schemes for next weekend...VDAY-BDAY. Basically a weekend chock full of I LOVE ZEN! for which I have taken off Friday, AND Monday (his actual Birthday.)

 

[Spork]

So the pictures from the party last weekend came out, and oh my god I am such a derpy model. Like I shouldn't get pics done unless a photographer has the time and patience to be like, OK no, move your hand here, hip there, shoulder like this, turn your head just precisely this way, mouth slightly open, no, don't show your teeth, no, yes, like that, eyelids exactly half shut, focus your eyes on this point, now DON'T MOVE. *click click click*

Otherwise, fuck this shit. I can't.

Oh, and a friend annoyed me yesterday, but...not enough for me to bitch him out about it. Maybe he'll read it here, I've told him about my blog but I don't think he reads it. *shrug* I don't care. So here's the deal. He was bitching about Gor, which is a fantasy roleplay thing in the BDSM world based on some horribly written fantasy/scifi novels where (if I understand correctly) there is a vaguely primitive culture where males are all masters and females are all slaves, except for a few exceptions like rogue wild women who live in the jungle or something, I dunno. Whatever. The whole "kajira" thing.

I am not interested, mostly because I feel I'd have to read the source material, and I've heard it's godawful insufferable shite and I am not feeling any need to base my kink on badly written fiction. I mean, we don't exactly encourage people to roleplay out 50 Shades, now do we? But for those who cannot write their own scripts and prefer to play out something based on a story, well fine. *shrug* Whatever! My friend though, was getting ALL OUTRAGED and bitchy and fussy because it is "cultural appropriation" and as such, offensive. He says it's based sort of on present day Middle Eastern cultures. It angers him as much as white girls wearing feathers in their hair, he says.

... ohhhkayyy.... And then he's like, "I've read the books, I know all about it, I know more than those idiots who are dressing up and playing the roles, but apparently I don't 'get it' because blahblahblah" ok dude, I said, it isn't that you don't GET IT...you're just yucking their yum, I said. Kind of like how I have my issues with porn, and I could very well go back my icky feelings up with REASONS why porn is bad and say that everyone should stop enjoying it because I don't like it, but no of course I am not doing that. That would make me a judgy arsehole. I am instead working on my own stuff so that I can be less uncomfortable. Will I ever LOVE porn? Maybe not. But it won't make me feel bad that others do, I hope.

Oh, he flipped out. Lost it. No, my silly little issues are nowhere NEAR what it's like to be part Native and part Black and see people mocking your culture and ... He wound up so worked up he went off to go lift weights.

This morning it occurred, fleetingly, to me, to wonder if I should not be eating tacos, since I have no Hispanic blood. Ironically, he later sends me a message saying something about Valentine's Day falling on "Taco Tuesday." I couldn't respond, because if I did, I would have said, "Sorry, I have to stop eating tacos now because cultural appropriation isn't cool."

My whole point in drawing the comparison that I did, was to simply say that I understand what it is to have disturbing feelings about something that others seem to enjoy. We don't really have cause or right to go yelling at people for liking something though, just because we feel triggery about it. I will not engage in any sort of a pissing match on whether my baggage and triggers are more traumatic, legit, or valid than yours or anyone's. But I don't have any right at all, to go trying to impose upon others in some pseudo-moral and absolute and objective fashion based upon MY emotions and triggers. That is goddamn nonsense.

Particularly in the sense that the other party clearly didn't or doesn't mean offense or harm. Intent should matter. If I, a white girl, of almost completely British descent, choose to wear a feather in my hair because it's pretty, I am not making a statement against any indigenous people who ever put feathers in their hair. That should be flagrantly obvious to anyone with half a brain. There is not a single thing ever, that British people invented, that I would begrudge other cultures doing, except perhaps genocide and colonialism, since it was wrong when we did it, and we shouldn't have, and nobody needs to start doing it now. All humans can cut that shit out, it's not nice.

But I'm not gonna tell a black guy not to drink tea or eat fucking crumpets if he bloody damn well wants to.

And it really rubbed me the wrong way, because my porn issue is very much personal and this friend knows it because we've talked about why it gives me difficult feelings and how I want to work through them, but it's hard to do, and he brushed it aside like it was NOTHING compared to HIS moral outrage, which he has every right to blast other people with. I was annoyed enough to feel like saying, "Excuse me, but who in the hell do you think you are??" But I didn't. And by the time I woke up this morning, my annoyed feelings had faded, and I relate them now as a memory and an intellectual point.

Because something I feel is also similar came up not long in the past. A woman who is known to various friends has yelled at others because her insecurities were triggered, and was downright mean to someone I care about, and has damaged some friendships. And she is so wrapped up in her feelings, which are valid, that she does not necessarily apologize even when she is made to understand that her fears and insecurities are not founded.

It's the whole "YOU MADE ME FEEL THIS WAY!!" thing.

And the point of what I am saying is that I believe very strongly that we can feel what we feel, and it's absolutely legit and nobody should ever tell us "don't feel that." BUT. We have an obligation to at least TRY to be decent and understanding to others. We don't get to act like our emotions, feelings, triggers, are grounds to try and force behavioral changes on other people when those other people aren't really doing harm to us or anyone. Having a triggery feeling about something does not make you some kind of Almighty Moral Authority who gets to yell at people, particularly people who aren't really hurting anybody doing whatever they're doing. That is obnoxious.

And I don't know what sort of a person you've got to be, to be SO invested in your own position and outrage, that you feel justified in throwing your ego around like that. I see it in sociopolitical behavior. Where you have some folks looking for reasons to be offended seemingly, and get all sorts of outraged over all sorts of things, to a point where I feel like "what, we all have to walk on eggshells now? Until you tell us how we're allowed to talk?" And then the other side of the aisle that acts like they basically defend their right to be deliberately arseholes, just in pushback against "political correctness."

Can we find a sane place somewhere in the middle where we just try not to be jerks, and try to give each other the benefit of the doubt that a feather in a white girl's hair is not a sign of some hateful agenda, and some people roleplaying has nothing to do with you personally, and somebody liking porn doesn't mean anything that I should take personally, and just because someone wants to be kind, considerate, even loving to your partner, doesn't mean they're trying to steal them or trespass on your territory...can we all try just a tiny bit harder to get along? To see when no harm is meant, and manage our reactions instead of expecting the whole damn world and all of reality to warp around each of us somehow, to protect us from bad feels? Am I the only person who sees, that if each of us doesn't somehow take responsibility for ourselves, then social harmony is impossible, and chaos is our lot?