Well, Geekette got very grumpy for not updating, as she should. But let's face it, I don't really consider myself a lesbian anymore. So here's a new blog for a changing me, if you're interested:
http://genderqueerear.blogspot.com/
See ya there!
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Letter two: ....
Dear ...,
I don't know your name (not that I would put it up anyway), and I can't narrow you down to one defining characteristic. Every time I try to, I balk at the thought of summing you up in two words, because it really can't be done. I connect too many ideas and thoughts to you, and the ones that are clear, you would disagree with. But what bothers me is that I can remember every tiny detail about you, except for the one detail that could let me find you again- your name. I even went through all our old mutual friends' Facebook friends, hoping that someone looked you up- but you were here for just a year. And you faded fast, and we never had a way to get back in touch.
If I could see you again- or if you saw this dismal little blog post on a pathetic blip of a blog (I still hold a grain of hope), I would thank you immediately for getting me hooked on manga, then I'd yell at you immediately for the same reason. You let me borrow yours since my mom wouldn't let me buy my own, and it means more now than it did then. I don't know why the meaning grew, but it did.
You were the first love in my life- the first time that I fell so hard that I very nearly admitted it. I can't believe I was able to pass you off as just a friend (even to myself), and I can't believe I let you go. I really really can't believe I lost your name- but I didn't lose your smile, or the way the sunlight made your head a frizzy fire, even though you kept it locked down in a tight bun. Your hair is magnificent- or I assume it still is. Originally red, dyed black, stained red in the dawnlight. You dressed like a dyke, and I loved your clothes- baggy and so many pockets, and all I had was a skirt and ugly-ass purse. I wish we knew each other longer, and I wish I had had the courage then to just- just to hold your hand for a second and show you that I felt you were more than just a friend.
With regrets a plenty,
The weird girl goofy girl in drama class who did stupid accents and kept stealing your manga.
I don't know your name (not that I would put it up anyway), and I can't narrow you down to one defining characteristic. Every time I try to, I balk at the thought of summing you up in two words, because it really can't be done. I connect too many ideas and thoughts to you, and the ones that are clear, you would disagree with. But what bothers me is that I can remember every tiny detail about you, except for the one detail that could let me find you again- your name. I even went through all our old mutual friends' Facebook friends, hoping that someone looked you up- but you were here for just a year. And you faded fast, and we never had a way to get back in touch.
If I could see you again- or if you saw this dismal little blog post on a pathetic blip of a blog (I still hold a grain of hope), I would thank you immediately for getting me hooked on manga, then I'd yell at you immediately for the same reason. You let me borrow yours since my mom wouldn't let me buy my own, and it means more now than it did then. I don't know why the meaning grew, but it did.
You were the first love in my life- the first time that I fell so hard that I very nearly admitted it. I can't believe I was able to pass you off as just a friend (even to myself), and I can't believe I let you go. I really really can't believe I lost your name- but I didn't lose your smile, or the way the sunlight made your head a frizzy fire, even though you kept it locked down in a tight bun. Your hair is magnificent- or I assume it still is. Originally red, dyed black, stained red in the dawnlight. You dressed like a dyke, and I loved your clothes- baggy and so many pockets, and all I had was a skirt and ugly-ass purse. I wish we knew each other longer, and I wish I had had the courage then to just- just to hold your hand for a second and show you that I felt you were more than just a friend.
With regrets a plenty,
The weird girl goofy girl in drama class who did stupid accents and kept stealing your manga.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Letter One: Strawberry Shortcake
Dear Strawberry Shortcake,
I know your name- in fact, you're one of two whose name I remember vividly. It's because the last name's a big one in our town, and your first name is the same as my cousin. But you won't remember mine, and anyway I could never put this online if I made it clear exactly who you are. Plausible deniability, in a sense, for my fairly fragile ego. Yet I made your nickname an inside joke between us- I guess the masochist in me wishes you remembered.
You were-are- about three years older than me, and infinitely cooler. You work out, and it shows, a sporty dyke all the way. I don't remember you frowning often- smiles came easily and they made your eyes shine. You were easy to crush on, so easy. I can't believe you didn't have a parade of closeted lesbians following you at all times, though you might have. I was self-involved with confusion that year, a state I lapse into far too frequently. I don't think you were out, but looking back, I'm sure you knew. I wonder if you knew about me. For some reason I think you suspected but didn't push it, and I'm glad you didn't. I didn't know- well, I did, but I was trying to change.
I think you thought I was cute, but in the "Aw look at the baby little freshman, she's so awkward, it's adorable!" way. And jesus was I awkward. I was either not talking or saying the wrong thing. And when I saw you a couple of years ago at Wal-Mart (truly the classiest place to see people again), I said the wrong thing again and we walked away to never see each other again. Of course, I then came out- nine months after that, I remembered you suddenly. For the first time, I acknowledged how I felt about you, and part of me still is crushing. That part is why I found your Facebook, and keep wanting to add you, or send a message or something, but I know I won't. This is because I am a pussy, and because you won't know me. But the rest of me is writing this letter out of a different feeling- admiration, awe, and gratitude. I admire you because you were what I wanted to be, before I even realized why I wanted to be like you; I'm in awe because you're actually that attractive, and gratitude... I don't think either of us knew that your mere existence was opening up possibilities, but it was.
I might someday message you, whether that is tomorrow or two weeks from now, but I also might never message you. There's no harm- but you're older, prettier, and popular- and even though we're not in high school anymore, I still feel like there's a rule against the nerdy younger one reaching out to the older jock, even if it's not for romance, but just to say hi- just to reconnect for a second. And so you know- I still say "Strawberry Shortcake" in a funny way.
Thanks
Kathy- the stupid nerdy flute playing flaggot.
I know your name- in fact, you're one of two whose name I remember vividly. It's because the last name's a big one in our town, and your first name is the same as my cousin. But you won't remember mine, and anyway I could never put this online if I made it clear exactly who you are. Plausible deniability, in a sense, for my fairly fragile ego. Yet I made your nickname an inside joke between us- I guess the masochist in me wishes you remembered.
You were-are- about three years older than me, and infinitely cooler. You work out, and it shows, a sporty dyke all the way. I don't remember you frowning often- smiles came easily and they made your eyes shine. You were easy to crush on, so easy. I can't believe you didn't have a parade of closeted lesbians following you at all times, though you might have. I was self-involved with confusion that year, a state I lapse into far too frequently. I don't think you were out, but looking back, I'm sure you knew. I wonder if you knew about me. For some reason I think you suspected but didn't push it, and I'm glad you didn't. I didn't know- well, I did, but I was trying to change.
I think you thought I was cute, but in the "Aw look at the baby little freshman, she's so awkward, it's adorable!" way. And jesus was I awkward. I was either not talking or saying the wrong thing. And when I saw you a couple of years ago at Wal-Mart (truly the classiest place to see people again), I said the wrong thing again and we walked away to never see each other again. Of course, I then came out- nine months after that, I remembered you suddenly. For the first time, I acknowledged how I felt about you, and part of me still is crushing. That part is why I found your Facebook, and keep wanting to add you, or send a message or something, but I know I won't. This is because I am a pussy, and because you won't know me. But the rest of me is writing this letter out of a different feeling- admiration, awe, and gratitude. I admire you because you were what I wanted to be, before I even realized why I wanted to be like you; I'm in awe because you're actually that attractive, and gratitude... I don't think either of us knew that your mere existence was opening up possibilities, but it was.
I might someday message you, whether that is tomorrow or two weeks from now, but I also might never message you. There's no harm- but you're older, prettier, and popular- and even though we're not in high school anymore, I still feel like there's a rule against the nerdy younger one reaching out to the older jock, even if it's not for romance, but just to say hi- just to reconnect for a second. And so you know- I still say "Strawberry Shortcake" in a funny way.
Thanks
Kathy- the stupid nerdy flute playing flaggot.
Letters: Prologue
There was supposed to be a review, but things got busy and being busy made things messy and messiness meant that the less important things got forgotten- and as much as I love this stupid little blog, it's not very high on my list of priorities. I'm still working on the review (several actually), but I have to work from notes for reviews- and my notes have disappeared. So the reviews are on the back burner until I find the notes or read the books again to make new ones.
"But," you're not asking but I'm pretending you are for the sake of a device, "Why are you writing this if there's no reviews?"
Because this is also where I put all the messy thoughts in my head so I can look at them. Right now, there's a lot of messy thoughts- partially because my head is a pile of tangled thread again, and partially because I'm an idiot and only last night realized some pretty fucking obvious things. If you've read this blog at all- and even if you haven't, actually- you already know I'm an idiot of the highest regard, but even I was shocked at just how dumb I can be.
To illustrate my idiocy, I'm going to be writing some theoretical letters. I have nowhere else to put them, and I need to write out my thoughts because otherwise I will never think clearly. I wrote some out last night for my book-monstrosity-thing, but it was navel-gazey (got edited, I promise) and I want to write out these letters for my own peace of mind. I'm putting them out here because I'm a fool, and part of me wishes that they'll find their owners (they never will).
The next few blogs will be unaddressed letters to the girls I first had crushes on- and managed to bury my feelings for them until last night. These posts are what I want to say, and can't- in fact, the one I would be brave enough to speak to, I can't remember her name. Some of the girls addressed are gay, some are straight, some are bi, some don't ever say and it doesn't matter, because I didn't know that when I fell in crush with them. I hesitate to say love, because love is a word that I frankly shouldn't apply to people in the romantic sense (especially to memories).
If you live with me or see me every day, you should probably get the shotgun ready because I'm about to get even more annoying.
"But," you're not asking but I'm pretending you are for the sake of a device, "Why are you writing this if there's no reviews?"
Because this is also where I put all the messy thoughts in my head so I can look at them. Right now, there's a lot of messy thoughts- partially because my head is a pile of tangled thread again, and partially because I'm an idiot and only last night realized some pretty fucking obvious things. If you've read this blog at all- and even if you haven't, actually- you already know I'm an idiot of the highest regard, but even I was shocked at just how dumb I can be.
To illustrate my idiocy, I'm going to be writing some theoretical letters. I have nowhere else to put them, and I need to write out my thoughts because otherwise I will never think clearly. I wrote some out last night for my book-monstrosity-thing, but it was navel-gazey (got edited, I promise) and I want to write out these letters for my own peace of mind. I'm putting them out here because I'm a fool, and part of me wishes that they'll find their owners (they never will).
The next few blogs will be unaddressed letters to the girls I first had crushes on- and managed to bury my feelings for them until last night. These posts are what I want to say, and can't- in fact, the one I would be brave enough to speak to, I can't remember her name. Some of the girls addressed are gay, some are straight, some are bi, some don't ever say and it doesn't matter, because I didn't know that when I fell in crush with them. I hesitate to say love, because love is a word that I frankly shouldn't apply to people in the romantic sense (especially to memories).
If you live with me or see me every day, you should probably get the shotgun ready because I'm about to get even more annoying.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Unoriginal New Year's List (Please Don't Hate Me)
It's about time for the New Year, and in my lazy mind, that means it's time for a Wrap Up list- which is kinda silly, because how can you summarize a year into ten little sentences? I can't. But I'll try. Just for you. Because I love you all. Or at least three of you. Also, I decided to make this list about things pertaining to romance and LGBT-related things. Because this is an LGBT blog. Or at least it tries to be.
Things I Learned This Year
1. Sexuality, gender identity, and romantic identity are varied,
colorful things that are super flexible, very interchangeable and
extremely interesting. It's a kaleidoscope, not just a rainbow. Which
is awesome. This year, I've met a multitude of people trying to figure out who they like, how they like these people, and who they themselves are. Do they like men or women or trans or queer-gendered peoples? Do they want to fuck them, or fall in love with them, or just cuddle? Do they like more than one person at a time, and can that work? Are they the gender they thought they were, or are they really the opposite? Maybe none of those definitions fit them, and they realize they're queer. And then we have the whole "what word do I want to use thing" but I'll hit that in its very own post... Here's my point. Rainbows are the international sign of the LGBTTQ community, because it shows all these lovely colors and represents that sexuality exists in a spectrum (or that's how I've always heard it). But sexuality and identity is not just a gradient or continuum- it's a kaleidoscope. You mix and match until you have finally reached what you are, what you see yourself as and how you're comfortable. Some people can look at the rainbow and point at a place and say, "yep, I'm a bi-guy. Bisexual, biromantic, monogamous, cis-gendered male!" But there's a lot of people who look at it and say, "hmm. I'm a cis-gendered female, I think, for now. No wait, I think I'm more queer-gendered. I'm interested in women-sexually, and I'm panromantic. I think." I don't think that's the best way to illustrate my point- but I'm not sure how. The world isn't made of gays, lesbians, bis, and straights. Even if you add trans, it's still too narrow. It's made up of all these little hue-differences and color contrasts and every single person is always changing, and every single person is different and different in how they change. We all our own little kaleidoscopes, and we make up the LGBT community, which is its own kaleidoscope, and that fits into the world which is the biggest and most complex and beautiful kaleidoscope we can't even imagine. That's why the world is so fucking awesome!
2. I'm gay. Or something like it. And my sexuality isn't nearly as simple as I wish it could be. I entered 2011 as a bi-girl with a boyfriend who I did love, I think. Maybe it's more accurate to say I wanted to love him because he loved me. And in the extremely messy confusing carnage of our relationship bursting into flames, I decided I must be gay. I knew I wasn't all that sexually interested in men, and not all that romantically interested. But later, I began wondering- I find some men attractive. Am I aesthetically attracted to men, then? Maybe. Some I would maybe date. Am I bi? Nope. Right now, I'm calling it "homoflexible" with every aspect- way more interested in women sexually and romantically, but for a very few men, I could swing the other way too (for the record, I'm looking at this as the gender they identify as. And I'm nearly always attracted to queer-gendereds). I'm probably polyamorous, but that's in theory. The whole thing is a giant question mark that I alternately am obsessed with understanding and trying to ignore.
3. I love my friends more than I love my boy/girlfriend- and that teaches me that I want a strong friendship in my next relationship. Let's face it, having someone to snuggle and kiss and hold hands with is really super nice. But this year, I realized that the most important thing to me is my friends. And when the person I'm snuggling has issues with the people I love, well, they're the ones to go. There was more to that break up than "She had issues with my friends" but for some reason, that's what really cemented it for me. Not that I was being manipulated and hurt, or that she was jealous of everything in my life, but that she wanted to ditch my friends and stop loving them for her. They have been there with me in my darkest moments- which I have had a lot of this year- and I would do anything to be with them for theirs. I love my friends, and even if the sun literally shone out of a girl's ass, if she didn't get why my friends are important to me, she either needs to figure it out or leave. Immediately. I want a girlfriend who I love because we've got more than a physical connection- I want to be friends with her and build on that. And it took three terrible relationships for me to figure that out, because I'm pretty much an idiot.
4. I can be alone and I am happy that way. Picturing yourself alone in the future isn't something to be ashamed of. No, really. Since I was a little kid, I imagined me doing super awesome things- doing book-signings, opening the best bookshop ever, opening the best bakery ever, helping people, whatever else- and I thought about doing every single one of those things with no husband (or wife). Even when I was with someone, it took real effort to imagine a life with them. But they said they imagined one with me, so I claimed I did to. This is a theme in my life- I was always ashamed that I never really imagined a wedding. So I pretended I did. I'm not talking just as a kid, this still happens- even in my last relationship, I only once could imagine actually living with her. I tell myself that if I'm meant to be with someone in the forever way, it will come naturally and I won't have to try to imagine it. Maybe that's true, maybe it's not. But why am I so ashamed that I don't really think of weddings and rings? I'm independent, stubborn and kinda insane. I think of doing these dreams and living alone above my bakery/bookshop because it's my dream, not someone else's. I didn't come up with this goal with someone else, it's all mine. When I think of my life, it's mine, not tied entirely with someone else's, and I wouldn't be upset if it were someday. But right now, I don't imagine being with anybody in the soulmate way, and for me, right now, it works. Because I'm happy, and I'm not Forever Alone, and I don't ever feel like I could be.
5. I will never be able to satisfactorily define myself, and I am constantly changing in nearly every way. It's not that I'm all that confusing, as much as I joke about it. I bet to a lot of people, I'm pretty straightforward. Unfortunately, I don't see myself from that lens, I have to look at me from the inside, and that view is pretty confusing. I do confuse people, but mostly, I'm the one who is really and truly confused. Yet, I'm starting to get comfortable with it- I don't really know what I'm going to be thinking today or how I want to do things tomorrow, but I know a few things about me just won't change, even though nearly everything else is on a fluid scale. Trying to define myself isn't what I should be trying to do, at least not right now, and not in a concrete way.
6. Being friends with an ex is actually not that hard in practice. In fact, it's much easier than dating them. I've tried several times to be friends with my exes, and it both failed for different reasons. The first, we simply drifted apart- we had both changed so much that we didn't have enough to be friends anymore. Good guy, though. The second... well, a friendship with him is very one sided, and our relationship was too. He rules every conversation and never asks how you're doing. It's hard to give a damn about someone who doesn't give a damn about you. Plus, there's a lot of regret about the whole thing on my side, and probably on his too. That can't help. But now, my last ex- we should have been friends. We shouldn't have dated, we should have been friends. I can see that, and so can she. It was a rocky friendship at the beginning (me and my friends were all pretty sure she was trying to get me as a fuck buddy), but now, we're both comfortable in it, and neither of us wants more of the other than friendship.That's nice.
7. Love is one of those things that can't be defined easily, and it's also one of those things that can send me into an animated thirty-minute long rant. (That may or may not happen on here in the near future). Any more explanation will be done in the form of it's own blog post.
8. Never try to date someone who has the opposite music taste of you. It may not end the relationship, but it sure as hell won't help. Nothing else to say on that one.
9. Gaydar may not be something you're born with, but it's not an easy skill to learn either. Unless you happen to be one of those magical people who has a gaydar even though they have no good reason to need on (I'm looking at you Bestie. It's so not fair.). I've been working on mine and all, but it's still hit or miss. I go based on how they dress or act and such. Bestie pointed me out as totally gay when I was still passing as straight to pretty much everyone else.
10. If you think you've untangled your life, you are very wrong. And that's not all that bad. Lives are meant to be messy and tangled. As long as the knot isn't in your chest, your throat, or your head, you'll be okay.
And that's it. I learned other things, too, I guess, but they aren't worth mentioning. I do feel like I'm leaving this year better than I entered it, and I'm ready to learn more. I'm more confident, and I've made so many mistakes that now I'm more prepared to not make the same ones again. So, here's some resolutions for 2012-
1. Don't say you "I love you too" unless you do, even if it might hurt them. Don't get caught up in the moment, and don't feel pressured to lie or they'll get hurt- get caught in that pressure, and both of you will be ripped to shreds later.
2. Don't let people make your decisions for you. It's your life, and what works for you and the lessons you need to learn are different from anyone else's.
3. Drag it up, babes.
Things I Learned This Year
 |
| The rainbow is the boring part not making your eyes bleed. |
 |
| Go to this shop and wallow in color. |
3. I love my friends more than I love my boy/girlfriend- and that teaches me that I want a strong friendship in my next relationship. Let's face it, having someone to snuggle and kiss and hold hands with is really super nice. But this year, I realized that the most important thing to me is my friends. And when the person I'm snuggling has issues with the people I love, well, they're the ones to go. There was more to that break up than "She had issues with my friends" but for some reason, that's what really cemented it for me. Not that I was being manipulated and hurt, or that she was jealous of everything in my life, but that she wanted to ditch my friends and stop loving them for her. They have been there with me in my darkest moments- which I have had a lot of this year- and I would do anything to be with them for theirs. I love my friends, and even if the sun literally shone out of a girl's ass, if she didn't get why my friends are important to me, she either needs to figure it out or leave. Immediately. I want a girlfriend who I love because we've got more than a physical connection- I want to be friends with her and build on that. And it took three terrible relationships for me to figure that out, because I'm pretty much an idiot.
5. I will never be able to satisfactorily define myself, and I am constantly changing in nearly every way. It's not that I'm all that confusing, as much as I joke about it. I bet to a lot of people, I'm pretty straightforward. Unfortunately, I don't see myself from that lens, I have to look at me from the inside, and that view is pretty confusing. I do confuse people, but mostly, I'm the one who is really and truly confused. Yet, I'm starting to get comfortable with it- I don't really know what I'm going to be thinking today or how I want to do things tomorrow, but I know a few things about me just won't change, even though nearly everything else is on a fluid scale. Trying to define myself isn't what I should be trying to do, at least not right now, and not in a concrete way.
6. Being friends with an ex is actually not that hard in practice. In fact, it's much easier than dating them. I've tried several times to be friends with my exes, and it both failed for different reasons. The first, we simply drifted apart- we had both changed so much that we didn't have enough to be friends anymore. Good guy, though. The second... well, a friendship with him is very one sided, and our relationship was too. He rules every conversation and never asks how you're doing. It's hard to give a damn about someone who doesn't give a damn about you. Plus, there's a lot of regret about the whole thing on my side, and probably on his too. That can't help. But now, my last ex- we should have been friends. We shouldn't have dated, we should have been friends. I can see that, and so can she. It was a rocky friendship at the beginning (me and my friends were all pretty sure she was trying to get me as a fuck buddy), but now, we're both comfortable in it, and neither of us wants more of the other than friendship.That's nice.
7. Love is one of those things that can't be defined easily, and it's also one of those things that can send me into an animated thirty-minute long rant. (That may or may not happen on here in the near future). Any more explanation will be done in the form of it's own blog post.
8. Never try to date someone who has the opposite music taste of you. It may not end the relationship, but it sure as hell won't help. Nothing else to say on that one.
 |
| My gaydar was broken in the box it came in. |
10. If you think you've untangled your life, you are very wrong. And that's not all that bad. Lives are meant to be messy and tangled. As long as the knot isn't in your chest, your throat, or your head, you'll be okay.
 |
| According to google, all kings smoke. Also, they are all fashion models with pompadours and no five o'clock shadow. |
1. Don't say you "I love you too" unless you do, even if it might hurt them. Don't get caught up in the moment, and don't feel pressured to lie or they'll get hurt- get caught in that pressure, and both of you will be ripped to shreds later.
2. Don't let people make your decisions for you. It's your life, and what works for you and the lessons you need to learn are different from anyone else's.
3. Drag it up, babes.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Update and the Beginning of A Long and Fruitful Era (maybe)
Well, hello ladies and gents. May I pour you a drink? Are you enjoying the fireplace? I hope you like Barry White. His voice makes me feel all tingly inside.
So, I've been away and it made me sad in my cardiac muscle. I'm still a little messed up in the head, and that is why the lovely Geekette has agreed to edit this, or at least make sure I'm not as much of an idiot.
I don't have a review today, but I'm working on a few for the coming weeks. No, sexy people, today is more of a mish mash of things. Not even the emo-mopey things, just thoughts.
So, lots has been happening since October, but there's only a few things of note. Firstly, my various maladies are getting fixed, and weirdly, that's causing a change in my personality and state of mind. Second, since I'm not in school, my conversation has ended up being with a few extremely awesome people, as opposed to a vast amount of mediocrity. Third, oh my golden Jesus nipples, I absolutely cannot stand living with my parents for this long.
As conversations are wont to do, some of mine have got me thinking. A conversation with Geekette has made me think more about LGBTQ authors, artists, and film directors, and how they choose to portray the gays. Whether stereotypes are followed, how they might be subverted, what actors portray what roles and how filming techniques or writing styles can really reveal what the director or author was thinking about the whole thing. This fascinates me, because everything can be interpreted in so many ways. Maybe a stereotype is used out of ignorance, or maybe it's because that's the only way an audience can understand. Maybe that stereotype is being used in a realistic way, because some gays can be stereotypical, or is it being used as a hollow shell? What if the character is following a stereotype, but doesn't actually fit the stereotype, leading to an interesting self-discovery idea? See, this is why I try not to watch movies with people. I drive them absolutely fucking crazy. Exception being Geekette.
Because I am a young adult, and as such am completely self-centered, I began to consider how this effects me. When I first came out, I slipped into a lot of stereotypes, some of them out of genuine interest, some out of a sense that I should be the stereotype, and some from "why the hell not?" And since then, there's been a lot of fucking around on my part- I try things, change styles, make ridiculous decisions and am in general ridiculous. I don't fit very many stereotypes on a surface, surprisingly. Most people who meet me have no idea how to take me. I can watch the thoughts on their faces as easily as the clouds in the sky. It's sometimes easier for me to dress like a dyke, and put an exclamation point on all my dykey interests- "See my flannel? My big ass combat boots and cargo pants? I like to build things, and and do yard work and I like really big dogs! I can punch and wrestle with the guys and I'm not the one hurting!" But I also like wearing skirts and heels and frilly things, and that shows off the girly side- "I love makeup and doing my nails! I can do your hair and watch any chick flick! I sew and bake and love fluffy kitties and shiny things!" All those things are true, and in the end, I'm in a weird place. I fit a lot of stereotypes, at the same time. I dance along the border of stereotypes, but at the same time, I'm not androgynous, either.
This morning, I've summed up myself as such- I am both a drag queen and a drag king.
I was talking with another friend about masculine clothing and identity- gender bending and all that fun stuff. And I want to try (I love men's clothing) but at the same time, I could see myself dragging as a queen, too. I like the idea of impersonating every feminine thing on earth as exaggeratedly possible, connecting with the inner princess inside who's full of blushing and batting eyelashes, but I also want to connect with my inner manly man, someone who wears really good hats, a nice vest and suit, and a damn good tie. How does one deal with this? I've tried dressing as I'd like to- bizarre as the differences may be, to me it seems comfortable and a good idea to be fluffy girl one day and masculine the next- but that is difficult because people don't really understand it. Hell, they don't even understand the girlishness of me, let alone that I can be masculine too. At home, I tone both sides down as much as possible, because if I don't, I tend to alarm my dad.
Being a stubborn bitch, I'm almost taking it as a challenge. I've gotten to the point where I'm wondering if it would really be all that bad to confuse people some more. Sure, I might be a walking rainbow flag as it is (though I've sure as hell seen gayer people than me), but if I'm not having fun with my clothes, then what's the point? No point at all. After all, clothing is nothing more than decoration, at most advertisement. What I advertise is "there's more than meets the eye." Or, "She might be really fucking weird at first, but at least she's amusing!"
So, I've been away and it made me sad in my cardiac muscle. I'm still a little messed up in the head, and that is why the lovely Geekette has agreed to edit this, or at least make sure I'm not as much of an idiot.
I don't have a review today, but I'm working on a few for the coming weeks. No, sexy people, today is more of a mish mash of things. Not even the emo-mopey things, just thoughts.
So, lots has been happening since October, but there's only a few things of note. Firstly, my various maladies are getting fixed, and weirdly, that's causing a change in my personality and state of mind. Second, since I'm not in school, my conversation has ended up being with a few extremely awesome people, as opposed to a vast amount of mediocrity. Third, oh my golden Jesus nipples, I absolutely cannot stand living with my parents for this long.
As conversations are wont to do, some of mine have got me thinking. A conversation with Geekette has made me think more about LGBTQ authors, artists, and film directors, and how they choose to portray the gays. Whether stereotypes are followed, how they might be subverted, what actors portray what roles and how filming techniques or writing styles can really reveal what the director or author was thinking about the whole thing. This fascinates me, because everything can be interpreted in so many ways. Maybe a stereotype is used out of ignorance, or maybe it's because that's the only way an audience can understand. Maybe that stereotype is being used in a realistic way, because some gays can be stereotypical, or is it being used as a hollow shell? What if the character is following a stereotype, but doesn't actually fit the stereotype, leading to an interesting self-discovery idea? See, this is why I try not to watch movies with people. I drive them absolutely fucking crazy. Exception being Geekette.
Because I am a young adult, and as such am completely self-centered, I began to consider how this effects me. When I first came out, I slipped into a lot of stereotypes, some of them out of genuine interest, some out of a sense that I should be the stereotype, and some from "why the hell not?" And since then, there's been a lot of fucking around on my part- I try things, change styles, make ridiculous decisions and am in general ridiculous. I don't fit very many stereotypes on a surface, surprisingly. Most people who meet me have no idea how to take me. I can watch the thoughts on their faces as easily as the clouds in the sky. It's sometimes easier for me to dress like a dyke, and put an exclamation point on all my dykey interests- "See my flannel? My big ass combat boots and cargo pants? I like to build things, and and do yard work and I like really big dogs! I can punch and wrestle with the guys and I'm not the one hurting!" But I also like wearing skirts and heels and frilly things, and that shows off the girly side- "I love makeup and doing my nails! I can do your hair and watch any chick flick! I sew and bake and love fluffy kitties and shiny things!" All those things are true, and in the end, I'm in a weird place. I fit a lot of stereotypes, at the same time. I dance along the border of stereotypes, but at the same time, I'm not androgynous, either.
This morning, I've summed up myself as such- I am both a drag queen and a drag king.
I was talking with another friend about masculine clothing and identity- gender bending and all that fun stuff. And I want to try (I love men's clothing) but at the same time, I could see myself dragging as a queen, too. I like the idea of impersonating every feminine thing on earth as exaggeratedly possible, connecting with the inner princess inside who's full of blushing and batting eyelashes, but I also want to connect with my inner manly man, someone who wears really good hats, a nice vest and suit, and a damn good tie. How does one deal with this? I've tried dressing as I'd like to- bizarre as the differences may be, to me it seems comfortable and a good idea to be fluffy girl one day and masculine the next- but that is difficult because people don't really understand it. Hell, they don't even understand the girlishness of me, let alone that I can be masculine too. At home, I tone both sides down as much as possible, because if I don't, I tend to alarm my dad.
Being a stubborn bitch, I'm almost taking it as a challenge. I've gotten to the point where I'm wondering if it would really be all that bad to confuse people some more. Sure, I might be a walking rainbow flag as it is (though I've sure as hell seen gayer people than me), but if I'm not having fun with my clothes, then what's the point? No point at all. After all, clothing is nothing more than decoration, at most advertisement. What I advertise is "there's more than meets the eye." Or, "She might be really fucking weird at first, but at least she's amusing!"
Friday, November 11, 2011
Update!
Well hello, party people. It's been a long time, hasn't it? And there's damned good reason this time, I promise. This is the first time in over a month I've felt good enough to try to write a blog.
Here's what happened- Around the first week of October, I hit my head, got a concussion, and because I've hit my head way too many times in the past, suffered pretty bad post-concussive syndrome. It still hadn't gone away when I hit my head again. At this point, we're reaching pretty ridiculous amounts of suck. Anyhoo, I had to leave school, am back home in the land of lame, and I need to stop writing this before I get sick again.
Eventually, I'll be back with awesome reviews and stuff!
Here's what happened- Around the first week of October, I hit my head, got a concussion, and because I've hit my head way too many times in the past, suffered pretty bad post-concussive syndrome. It still hadn't gone away when I hit my head again. At this point, we're reaching pretty ridiculous amounts of suck. Anyhoo, I had to leave school, am back home in the land of lame, and I need to stop writing this before I get sick again.
Eventually, I'll be back with awesome reviews and stuff!
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