Tuesday, March 15, 2011

I watch 60 minutes go by hour after hour after hour.

went out of town with the feral pal this weekend. got to have a 2-beer night after the cock-up from the night before while everyone else had big bottles of hard alcohol to themselves. it was pretty funny. I like my friends. I like them when they're sober, i like them when they're drunk. I like them when they're yelling with me about TBTN and showing me how it can be done better, faster, and stronger. One year, some friends and I tried to organize TBTN here, we joined the committee, pissed everyone off, and left once all of our action points were done, and debriefed after the march. sadly, there was no actual debriefing, 'cause all I would have said is CUNT CUNT CUNT over and over. mostly 'cause i'm a jerk, and i wasn't allowed to use the word (not just at meetings, but at all, like, in the way that i'm not allowed to take the shit that's been put on me back and use it as a term of empowerment and funtimez.) man, i swear, I didn't call anyone A Cunt. i was just saying that i like the word and that i like to use it and i'm not using it to demean anyone 'cause if you ask me, a cunt is a fucking stellar thing to be. They really disagreed, and some people pushed the topic but i didn't, 'cause i'm also the kind of jerk who thinks that they're wrong all the time, or used to at least, and so i hid from 'em instead of stating my case. y'know, once i state it and they don't give a shit. never asked them to use the word. I understand that language affects people and that that word could very easily have triggered someone and it's not their job to tell me that I hurt them. I guess that's why I wasn't one of the ones pushing it. I did, in fact, take that word out of my vocabulary for years afterward. I get really excited when it falls out of my mouth now though. It's a good one. Really, my problem with TBTN was about being escorted by police for the march. I am not about to explain why that's fuckt.

On to other things. The trip was a blast, with lots of little fuckt parts that made it a roadtrip. Seeing family is always fuckt, especially when they ask you to be their support person for their newborn's circumcision and you hafta say 'hells of no, there is no fucking way in fucking hell i'm supporting any part of a decision to modify the body of a human being without it's consent, especially it's genitals.' without being that direct. I think i did a good job, made up some excuse about having to work that day (of course, i'm far from above calling in sick to ANY work in order to adventure, it was convenient.) then when i asked her about it and she sad it was her husbands decision i passively stated that i thought it was actually her son's decision then started talking about something else.  not about to harass my only family member in her own home two weeks after having a baby. also not gonna not say anything about genital mutilation. y'know? yeah. y'know.

oh yeah, and some dude pulled a gun on the feral pal and i about 5 minutes after we were accosted by some fucking racist scum for a cig and veered away from him. goddamn, i wish i had of just fucking hit the guy. sigh. the whole gun thing was WAY less annoying. (note: neither of us think that the gun was real, nor did we when it was happening, it's all good, seriously. it was just weird, and full of eye contact. dude didn't even ask us for money or anything. totally weird. i'm not entirely unconvinced that he didn't think we were friends with the racist fuck and that's why he did it. in fact, i really fucking hope that that's why he did.)

C.Pox update: all is well, barely a spot left on the kid. and she's eating like a ... toddler... again. meaning: everything, all the time, ever. and she got to run around in an empty community hall room today and actually admitted to it when she was tired. and i think we annoyed some liberals, so i'm stoked.

learning good consent update: there has been lots and lots of many drunken makeouts and more lately. I feel really good about all of them, and about the ability of all parties involved to say what they need to say, and what they're comfortable with, and that no is always the best answer if you're not super YES. I think the fact that I know and trust and have known and trusted the makeouts for a long time really helps. and that none of the makeouts involve p-in-the-v. (disclaimer, when i say makeouts, i could possibly mean anything from a furtive kiss to full on fucking in any sense-- including with all our clothes on. the people who need to know the particulars of things do. you, darling internet, won't. nor will anyone i'm not currently making out with. so there.) It feels safe, it feels good, and the one thing that i will tell you about, dear internets, is that constant communication and talking about consent and drawing up boundaries every single time... and when alcohol is involved, throughout the entire escapade... really does make things better. and i never intend on making out with someone without these things again. fuck, if i want a one night stand or a bit of a grind on a dance floor, i'm gonna make sure both they and i are ok with it. i'm really not sure how long it'll be til i feel like doing the anonymous makeouts, but either the object of my boner is gonna be weirded out and nothing's gonna happen any way, or shit will actually NOT be self-destructive. ugh. yeah. i think i really do need to stay away from the anon for now. I can't imagine making out with someone i don't know and trust to not be self-destructive for me. I'm stoked for people who are up on that, but for now, it's definitely not for me.

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