(no subject)

Exhausted, but being weird about sleeping because of the storm and the creeky noises of the apartment. I'm rereading Sushi's CW-verse because it's there and I've read it enough times that I can still make sense of it even with my eyes crossing.

Discovered some good gluten-free cinnamon cookies today. They claim to be sugar cookies, but they're not. It's strange right now, being really hopeful this is the answer because I want a goddamn answer (so I can stop playing "what am I dying of today?" with Google), and knowing that once I'm sure it is in the answer, I'm going to flip out in some really intense literary way about the whole thing, because you cannot, CANNOT tell me that glutee-free stuff tastes just as good. It doesn't, and I don't want to spend the rest of my birthday's eating potato fucking sponge cake either. I mean, let's face it, that while from going from the girl who can eat anything to the girl who can't eat anything is galling, there's something mildly hillarious about the whole thing as well, because really wasn't I irritable enough without getting some dumb disease whose chief symptom is irritability?

Hrrrr.

Okay, sleep take two.

(no subject)

When the doorbell rings on a Saturday morning, I tend to think it's the Jehova's Witnesses, not the city housing inspector.

I have so never had that experience before.

(no subject)

Despite a long history of being into Japanese culture and food, I've never much had desire to go to Japan. And then I saw the first picture on this post, and now I have to, although I am not sure why.

http://kiniro.livejournal.com/151547.html

yeah, that's why I do it

My sense of my body tells me the back of my head is heavier than my chin, and that even if it weren't I'd pretend, as I do not, in fact, need to see my feet to walk; my posture is proud and I forget this offends.

I dress, when I dress (as opposed to throwing on crap), in a very particular fashion. What surprises me, when I stop to think about it, is that people never make fun of me for the clothes. If I get comments at all, they are gracious and lovely. Well, people at work made fun of me for a few months for wearing my pants tucked into boots, and then the whole world decided that was fashion, and I was smug. I'm been just ahead of the curve for a few years now, and I've been enjoying it.

Today I wore one of my bustle skirts, which, while costumey, is worth noting was purchased at Urban Outfitters. The second I got onto the subway a woman burst into laughter and started speaking extremely loudly to her friend across the aisle as if I were not there between them.

The friend nodded at her derision of me.

"Oh no, you got to see it from behind. It's all this messed up laundry, we know she don't have an ass under there, she thinks that's gonna get her something."

I turned and glared at the woman. This is usually effective. I made eye contact with her until she looked away, and then she continued. Despite every impulse in my body, I didn't move; instead I watched the other woman's young son wave a baseball bat between his legs and declare it was his penis. His mom didn't notice, because she was dying to see the stupid ass on my skirt and telling her friend so loudly.

Finally, a seat opened up, and you're damn right I'll move for that. In doing so, the woman with the son was able to see my skirt, and also started howling. "Ugly!" she shouted, and the first woman began to make fun of my posture, by sitting up straight, holding her head up high, and then wriggling.

I leaned forward in my seat. "It's a bustle. And you're rude."

Eye contact again, but no acknowledgement, she turned back to her friend and continued on. I grit my teeth, and eventually they got off the subway, the little boy still waving the whiffle ball bat between his legs. I tried to ungrit my teeth and failed.

People rarely fuck with me about my aesthetic deal these days. I suspect this transpired largely because this morning I wanted to dress masculinely and couldn't because it was too hot out, and with my general aesthetic sense, it's just impossible when it gets warm, so I felt a bit in drag today and perhaps my discomfort registered. I don't know.

The fact remains that how I dress and how I look has a sense and consistency to it. The fact also remains that I'm all for gossip, opinions and even scathing remarks, but you either address it to the person, or you keep it under your breath, you don't hoot and holler your obliviousness and you do not mock people for carrying their body with dignity.

I'm a ridiculous soul, but not in this sense. And it really sucked.