Avoidance chronicle.
Today, while at work, I planned my trip to Washington D.C. I also researched jello wrestling opportunities. There's lesbian jello wrestling in D.C., but it's not while I'm there -- I may have to make a second trip.
I really should start a jello wrestling tournament, that's what I'm thinking. It'd be like a poetry reading series, but with bikinis and jello. I almost said, "and no poetry," but two people grappling in gelatin is pure poetry, please don't front like it isn't.
(Oh man, wait, no, I'm going to have a really stoned guy stand ringside and read Wallace Stevens over a megaphone. Now that is pure poetry.)
Speaking of pure poetry, I'm beginning to be fully and completely irritated by the lack of bedazzled light-up Converse shoes for adults. Today I started mocking up plans for making my own. I will also be making lace-on wings for said shoes, if it comes to that. Like this, but for an adult-sized pair of shoes. (Also I would make them in orange.)
Which is to say, any help to be offered on how to make light-up shoes and/or lace-on wings will be gladly accepted. I already know how to wield a bedazzler, so no help needed there. I was in NSync fandom, son.
Today I have also read all about the Oilers draft situation, because it brings untold hilarity. I'm kind of hoping they take Yakupov, mostly because I think he would fit in on the failboat. The other prospects don't horrify me, though. Of course, it's entirely possible that they're going to pick a violently drunk guy in a chicken suit, though, because Oilers management is the weirdest bucket of doofuses you'll ever meet.
The Edmonton Journal has a nice rundown of the Murray vs. Yakupov draft debate here, if you're interested, which you're not. (It's either Ryan Murray or Nail Yakupov, it seems. Yakupov gives the fewest fucks of anyone ever, though, which is why I like him best.)
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I also typed up the following! It is (quasi) serious, but brief. Mostly I am getting this out of my system, because yesterday I found myself ranting about it while cutting up vegetables, and my veggies don't need to hear that.
First, a statement of fact! Fanfiction is fantasy. In this space, we can imagine that hockey players are secret adult baby fetishists, or dinosaurs, or that they jerk it to highlight reels (this is Crosby canon, though, right), or whatever.
Here is another statement of fact! Triggers are hard to predict. I was present for someone being triggered, once, and it was weird and out of nowhere and pretty much unavoidable. Long story short, people who know this person know not to grab her by the elbow when she is on stairs, but a stranger could not be expected to know that. It ended with everyone awkwardly apologizing for about twenty minutes straight, and I think the triggered person was the most embarrassed out of all of us.
With both of those things being said: dude, there are some things you warn for. I've been a dick about this in the past, okay? To be honest, though the response to that dickishness taught me a lot, I'm still a slap-happy asshole douchebro about a lot of things. But certain things are just straight-up abuse, or not consensual, and those are things that people should have warning about.
Not that you shouldn't write them! I want you to write me a goddamn weepy epic about Taylor Hall being a faily sex worker, okay. Taylor Hall the street-walking fetish model who has secret pain, and how Magnus Paajarvi is a rookie cop who keeps accidentally beating him up during arrests until they realize that they're S&M life partners. Write me a million words of that. But at the top of those words, leave a little note where you say, "man, there's some dub-con and hitting and inaccurate depictions of sex work up in this piece." That way, someone doesn't have to ENTER A GODDAMN FUGUE STATE without any goddamn warning.
I mean: I look at tumblrs of people eating poop because I want to understand everyone's bliss! (I wish I were kidding.) I believe that fantasy is an important part of defining the limits of what is impossible and possible in your life, and I believe in the right to fantasize freely. Sometimes your fantasies are going to impinge upon other people, though -- violently impinge upon them -- and it's good to at least give them a heads-up. Nobody likes a sucker puncher.
---
Things that I have not yet done at work: any work. Whoops! I should go attempt that, maybe. Or should I buy a bowtie? DECISIONS.
I really should start a jello wrestling tournament, that's what I'm thinking. It'd be like a poetry reading series, but with bikinis and jello. I almost said, "and no poetry," but two people grappling in gelatin is pure poetry, please don't front like it isn't.
(Oh man, wait, no, I'm going to have a really stoned guy stand ringside and read Wallace Stevens over a megaphone. Now that is pure poetry.)
Speaking of pure poetry, I'm beginning to be fully and completely irritated by the lack of bedazzled light-up Converse shoes for adults. Today I started mocking up plans for making my own. I will also be making lace-on wings for said shoes, if it comes to that. Like this, but for an adult-sized pair of shoes. (Also I would make them in orange.)
Which is to say, any help to be offered on how to make light-up shoes and/or lace-on wings will be gladly accepted. I already know how to wield a bedazzler, so no help needed there. I was in NSync fandom, son.
Today I have also read all about the Oilers draft situation, because it brings untold hilarity. I'm kind of hoping they take Yakupov, mostly because I think he would fit in on the failboat. The other prospects don't horrify me, though. Of course, it's entirely possible that they're going to pick a violently drunk guy in a chicken suit, though, because Oilers management is the weirdest bucket of doofuses you'll ever meet.
The Edmonton Journal has a nice rundown of the Murray vs. Yakupov draft debate here, if you're interested, which you're not. (It's either Ryan Murray or Nail Yakupov, it seems. Yakupov gives the fewest fucks of anyone ever, though, which is why I like him best.)
---
I also typed up the following! It is (quasi) serious, but brief. Mostly I am getting this out of my system, because yesterday I found myself ranting about it while cutting up vegetables, and my veggies don't need to hear that.
First, a statement of fact! Fanfiction is fantasy. In this space, we can imagine that hockey players are secret adult baby fetishists, or dinosaurs, or that they jerk it to highlight reels (this is Crosby canon, though, right), or whatever.
Here is another statement of fact! Triggers are hard to predict. I was present for someone being triggered, once, and it was weird and out of nowhere and pretty much unavoidable. Long story short, people who know this person know not to grab her by the elbow when she is on stairs, but a stranger could not be expected to know that. It ended with everyone awkwardly apologizing for about twenty minutes straight, and I think the triggered person was the most embarrassed out of all of us.
With both of those things being said: dude, there are some things you warn for. I've been a dick about this in the past, okay? To be honest, though the response to that dickishness taught me a lot, I'm still a slap-happy asshole douchebro about a lot of things. But certain things are just straight-up abuse, or not consensual, and those are things that people should have warning about.
Not that you shouldn't write them! I want you to write me a goddamn weepy epic about Taylor Hall being a faily sex worker, okay. Taylor Hall the street-walking fetish model who has secret pain, and how Magnus Paajarvi is a rookie cop who keeps accidentally beating him up during arrests until they realize that they're S&M life partners. Write me a million words of that. But at the top of those words, leave a little note where you say, "man, there's some dub-con and hitting and inaccurate depictions of sex work up in this piece." That way, someone doesn't have to ENTER A GODDAMN FUGUE STATE without any goddamn warning.
I mean: I look at tumblrs of people eating poop because I want to understand everyone's bliss! (I wish I were kidding.) I believe that fantasy is an important part of defining the limits of what is impossible and possible in your life, and I believe in the right to fantasize freely. Sometimes your fantasies are going to impinge upon other people, though -- violently impinge upon them -- and it's good to at least give them a heads-up. Nobody likes a sucker puncher.
---
Things that I have not yet done at work: any work. Whoops! I should go attempt that, maybe. Or should I buy a bowtie? DECISIONS.