strange

We are buying a house! The only person who reads this already knows this! lmao. Whatever.

List of (often silly) things that I'm most excited about
○ no more listening to shitty neighbors with shitty music reverberating up our fucking walls
○ never have to listen to my neighbors pee again! (yeah. I can hear the neighbors peeing if I happen to be in our bathroom at the same time)
○ a hose
○ having a GREAT deck with lots of space for both ppl and gardening
○ there's a lovely cedar tree on our lot and I'm super excited about hanging a face off him
○ decorating! for realsies instead of semi-cause-I-dont-want-to-pay-for-the-walls-to-be-restored-when-we-move-out
○ my kid being able to be himself without us having to worry about him being so loud
○ pre-established hummingbird flock
○ finally a room for an office/crafts room
○ we can build catwalks
○ happier trauma-dog
○ big yellow house!
○ hubby can buy a proper amp for his guitars without feeling like an asshole every time he plays
○ midnight cleaning frenzies
○ bathtub windows/skylights *dies*
○ so many sinks
○ no fucking carpet
○ a carport we don't have to pay extra for

Current Mood: excited

I told myself I was gonna come out to my dad this June. But now I'm scared.

Here's the thing. I've never felt the need to "come out" the way most people do. I'm bi/pan. I land squarely (queerly?) in both identities and I'm happy to be called either. Some people think that bi is trans/inter/non-binary exclusionary because it's described as "sexual or emotional attraction to both genders", which I understand though never felt personally. Therefor pansexual became a more common phrase, basically the potential for attraction to literally anyone, which definitely suits my feelings moreso. However... I never thought of bi as excluding the between genders, if you will, to begin with. So my mind and heart is still perfectly fine with being called bi, as I have called myself since I was a teenager, even though technically pan suits me better. Therefor I claim two flags within the LGBTQ+ scope. I've always just sort of not mentioned it unless it happened to come up somehow in conversation, usually when men were talking about women they find attractive, I'd chime in. And that's how I'd "come out" to whatever friends or whatever I was talking to. It was just a small part of the conversation. Sure I'd get a surprised look now and then initially, and sure some of the guys would get fetishy about it now and then. But it hadn't ever been an actual problem.

It never really occurred to me to come out to my dad. My dad is very "whatever makes you happy" about anything I've chosen to do in life, or anything I've felt or become or am. When I told him I was pagan, he said "Cool. Whatever works for you." He's super athiest, so that was an easy conversation. He was just relieved I wasn't psycho Christian like his mom, who literally allowed him to suffer in great pain and torture regularly as a child, because "god will heal you". Fucking nuts. When I told him any job ideas I had he said "You can be anything you want. Some things take more work than others, but you can do anything." He's just a super supportive parent. So it just never occurred to me that I should come out properly. I'm sure he's heard me mention things that might give him an idea of my sexual identity but it's never been like an actual, "so hey dad..." situation.

I came out to my mom; my godmother. Shortly after I moved to WA. It was my first time having an actual coming out conversation with anyone, and it was good. She had some questions. She had some misconceptions. She listened and abandoned those misconceptions. It was good. Very good. And I don't want to look back and regret never coming out to my dad properly. My dad is in his mid 70's now. He can't seem to remember certain things. Like the fact that I changed my name when I was 30, or maybe he can't remember what I changed it to. But one of those things is true and that's scaring me. Cause that's kinda a big thing. He's always had trouble remembering how old people are and their birthdays so I don't pay attention to that kin of thing. And there's definitely always been a lot of random forgetfulness in him. But my grandmother, his mother, went DEEP into dementia before the end and I'm.... afraid to miss my chance to tell him while there's still a chance he'll remember it. ALSO. If he can't rem something like a name change about 7 years ago that's been constant for 7 years... is he gonna remember me telling him once that I'm pansexual? Is it even... did I miss my chance already?

So I'm scared. Not just because of the memory issues possibly encroaching (I kinda get why he can't rem that I changed my name or what I changed it to, I was fucking 30 when I did it, after all) but because... even though I KNOW his answer will be, "Whatever makes you happy" or some variation of that... because it's fucking scary! I'm SCARED to come out. Even knowing his response. I'm scared. And I'm kinda mad at myself for being scared. So many people have so much worse situations to go through when they come out. Here I have the most supportive dad on the planet and I'm still scared. So that's a thing.

Current Mood: scared
Current Location: Home

I was just watching Childish Gambino's This is America. Again. I do this on the regular, partly because it and he is amazing and partly because he's saying SO many things in a 4 minute span and it's hard to focus on all of it (yes, I know that's the point) and for these reasons it simply warrants numerous... if not infinite... watches. SO. Ok. I just had an insight I'd never had before, and that I haven't seen anyone else on the internet have, at least not where I saw it. The internet is a big place and all.

So here's the thing I was struck with THIS time through. When he slaughters the choir, he enters the area all smiles and joy. Dancing and laughing and doing his thing. Then, he gets sad for about 2 seconds, and someone tosses him an "assault" rifle with which he instantly murders all the people in sight. This is, by my eyes and feelings, a comment not just on how ridiculously easy it is to get high-powered killing machines in America, but also on how very swiftly people in this country in this day and age (at least) move from "everything is fine" to "KILL EVERYONE I CAN". A decently "normal" person feels slighted or sad or angry. Instead of any number of other possible outlets, they turn strait to their gun to punish people who most likely didn't even have shit to do with their feelings of ineptitude (or whatever). Part of this issue is the fact that gun sellers do literally (don't even try to tell me they don't unless you're willing to show your work and have an honest, open-minded, discussion) just throw non-handguns at people just cause they want one. So it's readily available if someone happens to have a day of sadness. Part of this issue is that people in America hard-core shove mental illness to the side and try to bury it. So even if a "normal" person was depressed, etc, they're not getting the help they need (and possibly because we're so anti-mental illness awareness said person may not even know about their own) and therefore don't recognize their other outlets or tools they might have available to combat their own brand of darkness. Now I dunno that the mental illness interpretation I just found myself with was Glover's intent, but from where I'm sitting with my life experiences, this handful of seconds spoke volumes to me about it and how we handle it here. People handle sadness by punishing others rather than introspection.

I feel like I'm struck with a new thing at least every other time I watch this video. This man is a treasure and a fucking genius. I love that he won't comment or explain. It's art, he says. Art is supposed to mean different things to different people depending on the glasses through which they view it and/or the world. I'm paraphrasing as I can't find the specific interview, so I didn't use quotes.

Current Mood: contemplative

I just had a magical fucking nature experience while out walking the dog. It's a perfect May day, right? Sunny in and out of soft clouds with a mild breeze. Not hot. Not cold. Just perfect. So we're going along and going along and the sun comes out and shines on this patch of perfectly green grass right next to one of my favorite trees around the complex and the breeze picks up and rustles it's leaves and flowers and the flowers drop a few pink petals in that perfect spring way. I kicked my flip-flops off and stood in that spot barefoot in the grass for like 5 minutes while Logan puttered around me.

Just threw on Mulan and noticed something that annoyed me. Hey Netflix! How come Ming-na Wen's name isn't listed in the 3 allotted spaces when she's the main character voice? Get your shit together, Netflix. :/

I just need to say; please stop blaming EVERYONE who belongs to *insert ANY political or even religious group here* for the inevitable extremists and their reprehensible actions. You're just making the polarizing effects of it all much much worse.

Just as one can't say "cops are all corrupt assholes", one also cannot say "black folk are all criminals." You can't say "men are all scum", just as you can't say "women are all weak." It's simply not true, and that is fact. Yes, there are cops who are assholes. Yes, there are black people who are criminals. But the fact is that most are not and people should be judged individually, not by what so-and-so extremist member of said group did.

Note: This doesn't apply to hate-only groups such as Nazi's, etc. Please, always blame hate-only groups for hatred, that's perfectly fair, as it's all these types of groups stand for.

Current Mood: bitchy

My nearly 8-yo autistic son, for the first time ever, expressed his displeasure in one of his parents in words. He was angry at me because I made him go potty before he went to bed (because kids). It was my night to read to him so I go in there and he says “Go away.” Thanks to autism it’s difficult to know sometimes whether he’s just saying something because he likes the way it sounds (yep, that’s a thing he does) or if he really means it, so we pressed him on it a little. “Do you… mean that you want mum to go?” “Mom* go!” Massive sadface behind his back from mum while dad says he needs to go get his phone. Oooookay talk time. “Are you ok?” “Me I angry**.” Deeeeeeep breath. “I’m sorry that you’re angry at me, but going potty is part of getting ready for bed.” Long pause, then he says, “Sorry I angry.” “Oh no, honey. You don’t ever have to be sorry for how you feel. It’s ok. Families fight sometimes, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other.” Pause. “Are we ok?” “Okay, mom.” He mutters. “Can I have a hug and kiss at least?” He gave. “I love you, boy.” “Okay love you.” That’s as good as I’m gonna get.

Aaron comes back in to take over, swapping nights with me because apparently my kid doesn’t want me around at the moment. Ok. Fine. I can relate to that… even if it breaks my heart so hard it’s gone from glass to sand. Sooo I leave the room and go and cry for a bit and. Stuff.

So. That fucking sucked. :(

You know, I was thinking, last night while trying to fall asleep, about my dad. One time he came out onto our porch where I was sitting drawing (probably?) or possibly writing (because I wrote everything by hand in those days) and said, “Wow. How’d you get that gorgeous hair color?” And me, in my 15-yo “leave me the fuck alone” shit-head attitude said, “From a box?” and just ignored him. He stood there a little bit before going back inside. I dunno what made me think of it, but my brain goes to some strange places while I’m trying to force myself to sleep, and there the memory was. I wonder if it’s even something that he remembers now. Or if that was him trying to reach out. And then today this. I think the gods are playing karma tricks. Wankers.

*no matter how I try he still calls me mom instead of mum like I want. alas.

**he has trouble getting words in the right order and/or context, because he also has speech apraxia alongside, or possibly because of, the autism fun.

Current Mood: sad

Well, Aaron’s fucking bike got fucking stolen off our fucking back patio last night. The bike we just bought, brand fucking new, at Target, for fucking $100. The bike that was going to enable me to have the car without having to drive Aaron to the bus at the ass-crack of dawn in order to do things I’ve been wanting to do, like visit friends I no longer live in the same apartment complex with and am used to seeing literally every day (before we moved out of the worst neighborhood in Everett, it’s been 2 years now but it still sucks and I’m still not used to not living so close to so many good friends), volunteer holding addict-born babies at the Seattle Children’s Hospital (a thing I discovered recently is totally a thing and I want to do it) and with the IRC (another thing I discovered the desire to do recently).

And school this fall? I mean, obviously I’ll just have to get up at the fucking ass-crack of dawn or take the bus myself, but that’d stress me out so much worrying about the possibility of not getting home in time to be there when Moony gets off the bus. Fuck.

Obviously I will still find ways to do these things, especially school, even if it means I have to fucking get up when Aaron leaves. It sucks, but fine. It’s very important I get into school this fall and get back into the working thing. Our future somewhat depends on it. We’ve decided we’re not going to have any more kids of our own, but instead adopt and/or foster. My getting back to work is a big deal in getting anywhere near actually being able to do that. And even if I end up a grocery-store baker for a while? That’s fine with me. Totally and completely fine.

That bike was kind of the key part of these plans. Bike for Aaron = Car for Cal 3 days a week. Car = things Cal very much wants to do. So yeah. I’m livid. And on top of all the … what do you call this? Not emotional set-backs, but … life setbacks? We just lost about $100 dollars that we only just spent a month or so ago. And plans. That's a couple fucking weeks of groceries right there. ASSHOLES!

FUCK I’m so furious.

Current Mood: infuriated

So, just to catalog this cuteness for my own benefit until I get my hands on this (which I will use to write this sort of stuff in so Moony can have it when he's grown) but hey, for yours too.

I play this French horse breeding game, have for years and years. So Moony was hanging out at my elbow here while I messed around with some things and he looked at one of my horses and said "Unicorn!" I said, "Actually, that's a horse. Here, I'll show you a unicorn." And then, you know, I did. It was a baby. "Baby Unicorn!" He says happily. "Right! Would you like to take care of him?" Heehee. Then, with some direction from me as it was the first time he'd played this, he fed the baby unicorn and brushed it and played with it and did all the things that one does in this game, and then I tell him it's time to put the baby unicorn to bed. So he clicked on the little moon, which is the bed option and said "night night" and then wandered off to brush his teeth and pick out his books for the evening and so on and Aaron and I just about lost it over the cuteness while he brushed his teeth.

I'm gonna make him his own account attached to mine and give him a cpl of my unicorns to take care of. And he can do that before bed each night and it can be part of his ritual. He likes his rituals. And he likes unicorns. Wonder why.... :)

Current Mood: happy

I hate my former name. I’ve always hated it. I hate the way it sounds when it’s spoken, I hate the way it looks when written, I hate the way people are constantly trying to spell it with an “I” at the end, and I hate it’s generally accepted meaning as well (which is a big deal to me, being a massive name-nerd). Most people don’t know what it’s like to hate something so very fundamental about oneself. Something as everyday as your name shouldn’t be a source of distaste and resentment. Cringing every time a friend or neighbor says hello to you is just shitty, trust me. It’s not a good way to live, and it wreaks havoc with your self-esteem, of which I have very little to begin with. But there’s more to it than this simple answer.

( The not-so-simple part . . . )

Watch on YouTube

Weeeeeell I just wrote a nice sized entry about why I changed my name and then my pc shut off and it's all gone and it was PERFECT in every way and now I'm too pissed to even cope with it right now. I will soon. Maybe even later today. But right now I'm gonna go kill things in some game somewhere until I finish my coffee.

This should have been a real entry. Now it's rubbish. The end.

Current Mood: pissed off

Yeaaah oookaaaay. SO. Listening to HP read by Steven Fry, like I sometimes do when I'm bored and want noise happening. For apparently the FIRST TIME EVER it clicked in my head the years on James and Lily's tombstones. Born 1960. Died 1981. TWENTY ONE! They were TWENTY ONE when they died. WTF how did I never realize that? In my head they've always been in their late 20's. And not because of the age they are in the movies, the movies are clearly depicting them as they'd be at Harry's age, not the age they were when they died. I just always got the impression they were closer to 30 than 20 and I'm just totally shocked right now and yeah. The prophesy... "have defied Voldemort trice" even makes me think older than 21. lmao. I guess 21's not really that young to have defied Voldy trice consideration what Harry went through before 17 (though he'd not have if not for the prophesy/parents thing, so maybe that's why I considered Harry an anomaly), but for some reason I always thought they'd have to have been older for having defied Voldy personally thrice. 21 just seems so young for..... just. All of it. So wow.

Just. Wow. lol. I feel like I need to start the whole thing over again just because this new realization.

Current Mood: shocked

LOOK. I'm all for religious freedom, but when you're doing active harm to others, human or otherwise, in the name of your religion? FUCK YOU AND THE MUSTACHE YOU RODE IN ON! Not fuck your religion. Fuck YOU.

JUST SAYING

*mic drop*

Current Mood: angry

I'm completely and utterly heartbroken by the hatred and contempt and abject cruelty I see in my fellow humans lately. I don't care what is going on politically, why does it entitle you to be so fucking rude and horrible to everyone around you who happens to not share your opinions. Are we not all human? Are we not all sat here on this ship, together? Sink or sail, we're all right here next to each other.

When you're insulting someone because they don't share your views, you are part of the problem. When you use violence in the face of peace, you are part of the problem. When you allow yourself to become so angry that you lash out, despite what you stand for? You are part of the problem.

Remember that for every insult you post on facebook or twitter or tumblr or anywhere, every time you say "people with such and such an opinion are stupid/lame/whatever" you're insulting someone you supposedly love. Because I guarantee there are people in your immediate circle who have the opinion you just belittled so cruelly, people you're close to. People who you just hurt very very deeply with your thoughtless hate-mongering.

Trust me, I'm one of the people you love who you just brought to tears. I've been viciously attacked indirectly numerous times each and every time I even glance at (not only, but especially) Facebook over the last few months. Because I believe in peace. I believe in equality. I believe that no one has the right to tell another person how to live their lives. I believe that religious myth should never be put into law. I believe that primary and higher education should be available without debting your entire life away. I believe that love is love and love is never wrong. I believe in basic human rights for everyone. I believe in turning our backs on hatred and bigotry and closing our hearts to fear of difference and diversity. I believe that LGBTQ folk have every bit as much right to marry and publicly snog their partners as hetero folk. I believe that sexual assault is never ok, and is never the fault of the victim. I believe in standing up peacefully if you think there's an injustice that needs righting. I believe that the only way forward is to get over ourselves and stop trying to be the biggest most powerful bully on the playground. Try just being kind for once.

Sadly, the majority of the people in this country right now seem to believe that you should sit down and shut-up and do what the rich man in the tower says. That you shouldn't have any opinions if they differ from theirs. That segregating ourselves from the world is how to solve our problems.

Let me just say that it's not strength or fear or hatred that made America great. It was that acceptance, that diversity that made America great. That ability to open our hearts to others and help them. That's what made this country great. Kindness and the desire to help each other. The tired, the poor, the huddled masses. Not the wealthy, the spiteful, the charismatic.

You and me will all go down in history with a
sad statue of Liberty
And a generation that didn't agree.

Current Mood: crushed

After a long, involved, and very interesting conversation I've come to the conclusion that Pokemon is nothing more than cutified slavery. Pokemon are not animals, they're a race; a species of sentient peoples. They have language and emotions and personal desires. You capture them and take them away from their homes and have them fight for you. Whether they want to or not, no trainers bother to ask them as far as I've seen. If they don't like their trainer and they run away they're still legally registered to that trainer. They live in tiny little balls like genies in bottles. While attempting to initially capture one they resist. They fight back. They do not want to live in your backpack full of tiny prison cells.

Sure you can call pokemon battles the equivalent of martial arts competitions. Sure, you can say that if they're unhappy they just leave. But you know what? Every time you say anything about pokemon, replace the word "Trainer" with "Slaver" and the word "Pokemon" with "Slave". See how much you sound like rich bags of dicks back in the day trying to rationalize slavery.

Apparently the internet has had this very thought. And another.

Why the fuck are we making slavery cute?

Current Mood: anxious

Huntard is a WoW term that I take special offence to, being a main hunter long loooong term, and a fairly damn good one judging by what I see some other Hunters doing, and from what others I have run with in the past have told me. Two of said people who told me I'm good are mega-elitists *hard eye-roll* about all the WoW things. So yes, I do feel qualified to throw out some basic ground rules that should cover any expan content and I rather like helping/teaching people so. This is probably going to be a thing that I do now and then. Random guidey things. So uh. Here we go?

Thing 1: When in dungeons/raids always turn off auto Growl as well as any other pet specialized threat abilities. Also turn off any AoE abilities, such as the Tenacity ability Thunderstomp (which, coincidentally, you should have already turned off simply because it raises threat). AoE from anyone but the tank is a big no-no in dungeons/raids because you might rip aggro off the tank, which is bad... for oh so really many reasons... or you might break CC (Crowd Control). CC can be important in certain fights, especially early on in an expan before people are well geared.
Thing 2. USE your pets abilities, when appropriate to the fight, as you would any of your OWN abilities. Put these abilities on your pet's ability bar. Use them. This goes for dungeons/raids and normal worlding. When. Appropriate. And obviously not the threat abilities if in dungeon/raid unless you're certain in your tank's ability to hold and/or recapture aggro quickly. And even then, it's kinda a dick move to pull aggro when DPSing no matter what, so. No one's gonna scream at you for ripping aggro once in a while though. Well. Ok, there are some people who will, but it's.... ok that's all beside the point. lol. That's all part of a tank rant.... Where was I?
Thing 3. Buy Fetch off the dude in the Lodge! Inside, by the map. Fetch is back! Yay Fetch! Key/mouse-bind it. Make your Huntering easier and have your pet get your loot. Less walking, more shooting!
Thing 4. Feign Death is your friend. If you just can't get a mob off you? Feign Death! They'll go for your pet, and you can pop back up again and use a bandage before you get back into the fight.

I'm sure there's more I'll think of as I play.

Current Mood: exhausted

if you want to destroy my sweater
pull this thread as I walk away

watch me unravel
i'll soon be naked

lying on the floor

i've come undone

Current Mood: blah

Our House

Coming Out

This is America

Fucking magic!

Pfft

Just because

Well. Fuck.

motherfucker

Aww

Why I changed my name (because everyone's gonna ask)

Fuckety fuck

Whaaaaaaat??

FACEPALM

Heartbroken

I think I hate Pokemon now...

How to: Don't be a Huntard

Uh huh