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inaugurating
Nov. 3rd, 2024 10:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schmiriusit turns out i use schmirius for doodling bits of fic these days; who knew? but i have been thinking for a while that doing a bit of the ol' 2004 blogging might be fun again, since i've stopped keeping a proper journal in any other format, and the LJ always worked for me as a friendly thinking about things/performance space. and also [stede voice]: what if i didn't have to write only fic every time i opened a text box? i think that's probably getting me down, writing wise. and also [lucius throws his quill down in exasperation, leaves]: my drugs have fucked my language skills up significantly in the last five or so years; i bet exercising said skills couldn't hurt.
stares at screen.
stares at word count.
yesterday i went to friend D's mom's birthday party; i have been friends with the D family since D and i were in high school (so 23 years). spent a loooot of time at her family's house; spend a lot of time at her house now. (i am, in fact, at her home alone right now, having fucked up and forgotten what her schedule for today actually was and come over while they were doing their morning Toddler Activities, her and her husband and their preschooler). as is typical for me, i freaked out for probably three hours before the birthday luncheon, anxious about going out to a restaurant and seeing people and having to be doing party manners and be On; and fucking angry (despairing, etc) about having to choose clothes and therefore Presenting and doing Gender. there are reasons i wear my stupid black t-shirt and jeans ensemble every day of my life
(many of them are that i started about ten years ago when i had about three non-sleep/non-work/non-classwork hours in my day and i had to wear black shirt and black/blue jeans for work anyway)
i am self-conscious about my hair right now! it is very stupid! (the feeling. the feeling is stupid.) for these same ten years i have been in a cycle of: shave bald, let hair grow out, keep meaning to shave it back down to a centimeter or two but keep putting it off, let it get too long for my liking and shave it off again. this is what we call a Chia Pet situation. happily my hair is of a texture and density where i hardly ever look stupid doing this. HOWEVER, in the last month i have started attempting to have a... style... with my very short hair, and i have not been succeeding to my satisfaction. again, my hair type covers a lot of the poor artwork which has been occurring, but it does not cover my feelings of frustration and inadequacy. besides this, moms still like my hair, and this is, as we all know, unacceptable. mom D told me three separate times "oh, you look great!" after not having seen me for a while, and i took this at face value as one of those compliments that women are supposed to give each other, until the third time she added hastily, "i mean, not that i didn't like your hair before!!" and i then realized that i had a full head of hair not buzzed down to almost nothing. shame upon me.
i was telling Tough Customer Molly (also a 20-year friend) on the phone in the car, driving down to the event, that D had offered to "clean up" my undercut(?) "before mom's party" a week back but it hadn't worked out, time-wise, so "this is all her fault, really," and Molly cackled and agreed that it was her fault that my hair was a wreck at the Nice Function. apparently my haircut did not end up rude and ugly enough after all. sad all around.
logging off. going to consider the matter of izzy hands, perhaps, or just nap on D's couch before they all get home. it occurs to me now that i could've done a couple errands that i've been meaning to do in her neighborhood, but alas, i created a blog i may or may not use regularly anyway. we'll see!
schmirius for doodling bits of fic these days; who knew? but i have been thinking for a while that doing a bit of the ol' 2004 blogging might be fun again, since i've stopped keeping a proper journal in any other format, and the LJ always worked for me as a friendly thinking about things/performance space. and also [stede voice]: what if i didn't have to write only fic every time i opened a text box? i think that's probably getting me down, writing wise. and also [lucius throws his quill down in exasperation, leaves]: my drugs have fucked my language skills up significantly in the last five or so years; i bet exercising said skills couldn't hurt.stares at screen.
yesterday i went to friend D's mom's birthday party; i have been friends with the D family since D and i were in high school (so 23 years). spent a loooot of time at her family's house; spend a lot of time at her house now. (i am, in fact, at her home alone right now, having fucked up and forgotten what her schedule for today actually was and come over while they were doing their morning Toddler Activities, her and her husband and their preschooler). as is typical for me, i freaked out for probably three hours before the birthday luncheon, anxious about going out to a restaurant and seeing people and having to be doing party manners and be On; and fucking angry (despairing, etc) about having to choose clothes and therefore Presenting and doing Gender. there are reasons i wear my stupid black t-shirt and jeans ensemble every day of my life
(many of them are that i started about ten years ago when i had about three non-sleep/non-work/non-classwork hours in my day and i had to wear black shirt and black/blue jeans for work anyway)
i am self-conscious about my hair right now! it is very stupid! (the feeling. the feeling is stupid.) for these same ten years i have been in a cycle of: shave bald, let hair grow out, keep meaning to shave it back down to a centimeter or two but keep putting it off, let it get too long for my liking and shave it off again. this is what we call a Chia Pet situation. happily my hair is of a texture and density where i hardly ever look stupid doing this. HOWEVER, in the last month i have started attempting to have a... style... with my very short hair, and i have not been succeeding to my satisfaction. again, my hair type covers a lot of the poor artwork which has been occurring, but it does not cover my feelings of frustration and inadequacy. besides this, moms still like my hair, and this is, as we all know, unacceptable. mom D told me three separate times "oh, you look great!" after not having seen me for a while, and i took this at face value as one of those compliments that women are supposed to give each other, until the third time she added hastily, "i mean, not that i didn't like your hair before!!" and i then realized that i had a full head of hair not buzzed down to almost nothing. shame upon me.
i was telling Tough Customer Molly (also a 20-year friend) on the phone in the car, driving down to the event, that D had offered to "clean up" my undercut(?) "before mom's party" a week back but it hadn't worked out, time-wise, so "this is all her fault, really," and Molly cackled and agreed that it was her fault that my hair was a wreck at the Nice Function. apparently my haircut did not end up rude and ugly enough after all. sad all around.
logging off. going to consider the matter of izzy hands, perhaps, or just nap on D's couch before they all get home. it occurs to me now that i could've done a couple errands that i've been meaning to do in her neighborhood, but alas, i created a blog i may or may not use regularly anyway. we'll see!
