Ponderous thoughts are ponderous.
Dear person who stole my three bottles of Maine Root out of the refridgerator,
Not cool. You know what's yours and what isn't. Furthermore, you have deprived me of excellent-tasting caffeine, for which you shall suffer painfully and at length. This is a small house, so don't think I won't track you down.
No love, me.
PS - If you're one of my across-the-hall neighbors with the overly-smug sign on your door, stabbity death will ensue. Just a warning.
Right now I am listening to: the soundtracks to Porco Rosso, Whale Rider, The Last of the Mohicans, and Rabbit-Proof Fence, and occasionally MC Solaar and Tarkan. Some time soon I will trek down to the used music store and try to dig up some Punjabi MC. And actually see Rabbit-Proof Fence during J-Term. I've wanted to since it came out, but don't get to the theater, say, ever, and it's one of those movies that would make Mum cry and not stop if we watched it at home.
So, since coming to school, I have discovered that I like being hugged/cuddled/otherwise touched, but only by my friends. People who I'm not close to still get an extreme no. For example, E trying to sleep on my shoulder (which resulted in me spending the whole time thinking "Get off me! Get off me! ...But she does need to sleep, and can't rest her head on the seat. I don't care! Get off me!"), or my Japanese group member who kept pushing up against me to see my computer screen, despite my moving away from her thrice (I'm just taking notes, Jesus god! It's not like you have to see it!). But then later that same night, ended up on a friend's bed surrounded/partially covered by a pile of people and loving it. I also hug way more than I used to - sometimes I wonder if it's more than I should, but no one's complained yet, so I'll assume I'm not annoying. It's a really good substitute for having to verbalize emotion - "I can't say what I think or feel about you right now, so have my arms around you and maybe you can get something from that." Yes, I still have trouble verbalizing feelings. Thoughts, fine, but when I feel something I can never translate it. Everything just stacks up behind my tongue, and I can't get it to fit in what I have. It makes as much sense as singing in sculpture. This has gotten me in trouble before, and I'm half-sure it will again, but I'll deal with that when it comes. This is, I think, the biggest leap forward I have made. To be able to take a deep breath, shove fears aside, and tell myself that yes, I know something's coming, but I'll face it when it happens.
I'm really fucking sick of nightmares that leave me shellshocked. I think it's stress+citalopram that's doing it, because the frequency, like, quintupled over the past few weeks. And of course they're hypervivid and nasty.
I am also considerably sick of people who talk about sex all. The god damn. Time. All right, fine, PERSON who talks about sex all the goddamn time. I keep seeing how she'd be a good friend and nice to be around, but the unceasing not-even-innuendo is very off-putting. Fine, since she doesn't seem to like me much, but when it results in my getting asked point-blank how many girls I've slept with, I KIND OF MIND. Because apparently this is the only measuring stick of one's gayness. So basically, it doesn't matter if you're gayer than a tree full of monkies on nitrous oxide, you've got to have lots of sex in the bargain. (The only reason this got measured was that she spends lots of time going "Iiiii'm soooo gaaaayyy~!", and I went "You don't have a monopoly on it." And then sexuality turned into a contest. I dunno). Also, I am similarly sick of being constantly reminded of size discrepancy between self and girlfriend. OH GEE, THANK YOU VARIOUS ACQUAINTANCES WHOSE BUSINESS IT IS NOT, I NEVER WOULD HAVE NOTICED IF YOU DIDN'T RAG ON ME ALL THE TIME ABOUT IT. HERE'S AN IDEA, IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE MENTAL IMAGERY, TURN THE FUCKING MENTAL IMAGERY OFF, KTHX.
[/RantyMcCapslockpants]
And now for something completely different! The Doctor Who misheard Caramelldansen I've been mentioning.
Not cool. You know what's yours and what isn't. Furthermore, you have deprived me of excellent-tasting caffeine, for which you shall suffer painfully and at length. This is a small house, so don't think I won't track you down.
No love, me.
PS - If you're one of my across-the-hall neighbors with the overly-smug sign on your door, stabbity death will ensue. Just a warning.
Right now I am listening to: the soundtracks to Porco Rosso, Whale Rider, The Last of the Mohicans, and Rabbit-Proof Fence, and occasionally MC Solaar and Tarkan. Some time soon I will trek down to the used music store and try to dig up some Punjabi MC. And actually see Rabbit-Proof Fence during J-Term. I've wanted to since it came out, but don't get to the theater, say, ever, and it's one of those movies that would make Mum cry and not stop if we watched it at home.
So, since coming to school, I have discovered that I like being hugged/cuddled/otherwise touched, but only by my friends. People who I'm not close to still get an extreme no. For example, E trying to sleep on my shoulder (which resulted in me spending the whole time thinking "Get off me! Get off me! ...But she does need to sleep, and can't rest her head on the seat. I don't care! Get off me!"), or my Japanese group member who kept pushing up against me to see my computer screen, despite my moving away from her thrice (I'm just taking notes, Jesus god! It's not like you have to see it!). But then later that same night, ended up on a friend's bed surrounded/partially covered by a pile of people and loving it. I also hug way more than I used to - sometimes I wonder if it's more than I should, but no one's complained yet, so I'll assume I'm not annoying. It's a really good substitute for having to verbalize emotion - "I can't say what I think or feel about you right now, so have my arms around you and maybe you can get something from that." Yes, I still have trouble verbalizing feelings. Thoughts, fine, but when I feel something I can never translate it. Everything just stacks up behind my tongue, and I can't get it to fit in what I have. It makes as much sense as singing in sculpture. This has gotten me in trouble before, and I'm half-sure it will again, but I'll deal with that when it comes. This is, I think, the biggest leap forward I have made. To be able to take a deep breath, shove fears aside, and tell myself that yes, I know something's coming, but I'll face it when it happens.
I'm really fucking sick of nightmares that leave me shellshocked. I think it's stress+citalopram that's doing it, because the frequency, like, quintupled over the past few weeks. And of course they're hypervivid and nasty.
I am also considerably sick of people who talk about sex all. The god damn. Time. All right, fine, PERSON who talks about sex all the goddamn time. I keep seeing how she'd be a good friend and nice to be around, but the unceasing not-even-innuendo is very off-putting. Fine, since she doesn't seem to like me much, but when it results in my getting asked point-blank how many girls I've slept with, I KIND OF MIND. Because apparently this is the only measuring stick of one's gayness. So basically, it doesn't matter if you're gayer than a tree full of monkies on nitrous oxide, you've got to have lots of sex in the bargain. (The only reason this got measured was that she spends lots of time going "Iiiii'm soooo gaaaayyy~!", and I went "You don't have a monopoly on it." And then sexuality turned into a contest. I dunno). Also, I am similarly sick of being constantly reminded of size discrepancy between self and girlfriend. OH GEE, THANK YOU VARIOUS ACQUAINTANCES WHOSE BUSINESS IT IS NOT, I NEVER WOULD HAVE NOTICED IF YOU DIDN'T RAG ON ME ALL THE TIME ABOUT IT. HERE'S AN IDEA, IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE MENTAL IMAGERY, TURN THE FUCKING MENTAL IMAGERY OFF, KTHX.
[/RantyMcCapslockpants]
And now for something completely different! The Doctor Who misheard Caramelldansen I've been mentioning.
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