Introduction
bdsm
im starting a new diary. fans of previous my previous diary might remember the subjects "coloring, kidding, loving, sexing, working" in which i wrote about race, my parents, abby, sex and whatever job i had at the time. this time, it'll be about different, but clearly similar subject matters. first up?bdsm:! so, fuck. basically, after 5 years of straight sex with men and women, and after, six years of hanging around very queer people and liking it, but not quite getting it, and after a laughable three months as a bottom to a narcisstic, megalomaniac sadistic transwoman, i realized that my clit was really made impossibly large by being sadistic, rather than receiving sadism. and let's be honest, bondage and domination are nice, but i prefer to be just plain mean.
daddy
my father is a drug addict. lives in a trailer. is on food stamps. medicaid. court ordered to drug treatment. non compliant. dually diagnosed. bi-schmolar disorder. he was sober from the time i was 12 until i was 25. so, for the majority of my life, those years where you really figure out who you are in the context of, like, * things * , i had this great cinderella story to tell in which i was born to a 19 year old girl and put up for adoption . . . because the 30 year old father was in prison . . . but then the father came back . . . and got the baby . . . and got married . . . to this nice jewish girl and they . . . all lived happily ever after? why yes! they did! in the suburbs!
so yeah, i had this great story, in which my daddy came back for me. but then, he relapsed. and suddenly i had to live this horror story that i had once romaticized. like, once, i wrote this, like, cycle of 24 haikus, remembering wacked-out childhood memories from when he was using drugs and we were living in laurel and the road to dc was pepsi cola plant, hechts warehouse, big ben liquor store. and it was so great because it was this potent, but dim, past.
then it became real. and the english-as-a-second-language doctor was telling me -- the adult, the daughter, the social worker -- about how they swabbed his lungs to check for PCP, so nonchalntly, like i didnt know what PCP was and that only people with AIDS get it, because i was *acting* that like i DIDNT know what was going on at all, because i thought they would *treat* me like i knew *what was* the fuck going on, when I DIDNT KNOW WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON AT ALL, and i was INFURIATED and scared.
I've probably seen him ten times since that day.
depression
two months ago i started to not be able to sleep for no reason. it was the first time i had ever had a vegatative symptom. something that could be categorized as other than "trick of the mind". something physical, something somatic, like "weight loss or weight gain". it was upsetting.
money
after six months of ordering my credit scores from the three credit bureaus and watching the documentary "maxed out" and generally becoming much more proactive about my credit score and finances, i now know that the great approved-user debacle of 2003 and the great no-helmet debacle of 2004 have no bearing on my credit score, yet the afore-metioned credit number is somewhere around 675, putting me below the 50% percentile among u.s. citizens. which fucking freaks me out, because i'm among the more responsible of the people in world that i know.
wrinkles
im thirty, bitches. my hands are papery. ive got *laugh* and "smile" lines. im CRAZIER. ive gained a THIRD ass and a SIXTH student loan. *PLUS* i DONT GIVE A FUCK what you think, because its all been "THOUGHT" before. plus, im on my fourth beer in as many months.
quakers
arent as great as i thought they were, but better than most.
im starting a new diary. fans of previous my previous diary might remember the subjects "coloring, kidding, loving, sexing, working" in which i wrote about race, my parents, abby, sex and whatever job i had at the time. this time, it'll be about different, but clearly similar subject matters. first up?bdsm:! so, fuck. basically, after 5 years of straight sex with men and women, and after, six years of hanging around very queer people and liking it, but not quite getting it, and after a laughable three months as a bottom to a narcisstic, megalomaniac sadistic transwoman, i realized that my clit was really made impossibly large by being sadistic, rather than receiving sadism. and let's be honest, bondage and domination are nice, but i prefer to be just plain mean.
daddy
my father is a drug addict. lives in a trailer. is on food stamps. medicaid. court ordered to drug treatment. non compliant. dually diagnosed. bi-schmolar disorder. he was sober from the time i was 12 until i was 25. so, for the majority of my life, those years where you really figure out who you are in the context of, like, * things * , i had this great cinderella story to tell in which i was born to a 19 year old girl and put up for adoption . . . because the 30 year old father was in prison . . . but then the father came back . . . and got the baby . . . and got married . . . to this nice jewish girl and they . . . all lived happily ever after? why yes! they did! in the suburbs!
so yeah, i had this great story, in which my daddy came back for me. but then, he relapsed. and suddenly i had to live this horror story that i had once romaticized. like, once, i wrote this, like, cycle of 24 haikus, remembering wacked-out childhood memories from when he was using drugs and we were living in laurel and the road to dc was pepsi cola plant, hechts warehouse, big ben liquor store. and it was so great because it was this potent, but dim, past.
then it became real. and the english-as-a-second-language doctor was telling me -- the adult, the daughter, the social worker -- about how they swabbed his lungs to check for PCP, so nonchalntly, like i didnt know what PCP was and that only people with AIDS get it, because i was *acting* that like i DIDNT know what was going on at all, because i thought they would *treat* me like i knew *what was* the fuck going on, when I DIDNT KNOW WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON AT ALL, and i was INFURIATED and scared.
I've probably seen him ten times since that day.
depression
two months ago i started to not be able to sleep for no reason. it was the first time i had ever had a vegatative symptom. something that could be categorized as other than "trick of the mind". something physical, something somatic, like "weight loss or weight gain". it was upsetting.
money
after six months of ordering my credit scores from the three credit bureaus and watching the documentary "maxed out" and generally becoming much more proactive about my credit score and finances, i now know that the great approved-user debacle of 2003 and the great no-helmet debacle of 2004 have no bearing on my credit score, yet the afore-metioned credit number is somewhere around 675, putting me below the 50% percentile among u.s. citizens. which fucking freaks me out, because i'm among the more responsible of the people in world that i know.
wrinkles
im thirty, bitches. my hands are papery. ive got *laugh* and "smile" lines. im CRAZIER. ive gained a THIRD ass and a SIXTH student loan. *PLUS* i DONT GIVE A FUCK what you think, because its all been "THOUGHT" before. plus, im on my fourth beer in as many months.
quakers
arent as great as i thought they were, but better than most.