A Safe Space for Moogles

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For truth, justice, and things that go Boom.

July 21st, 2015

The concept of emotional labor, and how I suck at it.

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Been reading through this article and the comments about it here about emotional labor (there are a lot of them. Seriously, be prepared for it to eat at least two days’ worth of your free time.) and - well. It gave me a new vocabulary for talking about myself, so here we go.

whywontthisdisplaymorethanoneword )

September 8th, 2014

What I believe, OR: Agnostic Apologetics.

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TL:DR - I'm an agnostic. Sort of.

Just some things I've been sorting out in my head. )

November 1st, 2013

So, I've been 29 for a little less than 24 hours now...

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...it doesn't upset me as much as turning 28 did. Maybe I'm accepting my mortality at last. ;P Or maybe my Not-Giving-A-Shit-Fu is getting stronger.

I have to say, though, I think pushing 30 would feel a lot better if I actually had my shit together. As it is pushing 30 just feels like pushing 16 with an added rent payment.*

*Actually, I've been taking a second look at the idea that I might be ADD/ADHD. It would explain a lot. But I have no idea where to go to get a diagnosis or treatment, or how I'd pay for it or when I'd have time to do it.

September 10th, 2013

Sometimes labels are useful, OR, shit that other people figure out around age 15.

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Cut for sexuality-related stuff, which may be TMI.

Coming out. Or something. )

February 17th, 2011


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I'm ready. I exercised today and I'm full of energy and I'm being productive and yes. I'm gonna do it this time. I'm finally gonna do all the things I said I was gonna do and I'm finally going to remake myself into something I don't hate so much. I'm ready.

...I think the onset of spring is getting to me. Don't worry, it'll pass. Here, have a lol.

March 3rd, 2010

LOL, undersocialized.

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So today I was driving to work and I saw a guy walking a dog which I had taken care of just yesterday at work. I had the craziest urge to stop and say hello, but I only knew the dog, not his owner, and I don't think said two-legged thing would be too impressed with a stranger accosting him.

I find it hilarious that I know half the neighborhood dogs on sight, but can barely pick out my own next-door neighbors out of a lineup.

January 18th, 2010

*clutches head*

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I've been giving myself headaches reading some blog posts.

Start here: Schrodinger's Rapist: or a guy's guide to approaching strange women without being maced. On how women navigate the risk of being raped/assaulted every day of their lives, and what men may do to alleviate that risk a little, all presented in the form of a primer on approaching women in public. (Comments are worth a read.)
In the same vein: How not to be an asshole: a guide for men and Stuff What Boys Can Do. The first is written by a man, which I wish wasn't worth brownie points, but it is; and the second goes a little more in-depth by means of personal anecdata.
And for those of you who read the above and still have no idea what's going on (as I kind of didn't): Rape Culture 101
Tangentially related: Dear Fat Nutritionist: You're pretty good-looking (for a girl). One (overweight) woman's experience with beauty and how it changed how people reacted to her.

And I still haven't gone through all the links I've found yet.

As I've been reading these, and the comments from women sharing their own personal experience, I felt: sympathy, caution, solidarity, a renewed commitment to my own safety and a need to examine my own assumptions about race and class as they relate to the issue of Not Trusting Men. And I also felt something kind of ugly: jealousy. Who are these women who are apparently attractive enough to men to be stalked/accosted/assaulted? Why don't men think I'm a worthy target?

Which is a giant load of horseshit, of course. First, I have had trouble with skeevy guys in college, though these were extremely minor events. And there was that guy at the Def Leppard concert, and a couple of people at the Renfest, so it's not like I've never been the target of Creepy Male Attention in my life. It's just never gone anywhere worth mentioning. Second - oh my god, self. Are you seriously letting your self-worth get tangled up with being sexually assaulted?

Well, yes, I am. This is how our culture of conflating sex with violence-against-women has affected me, and I'm nowhere near as enlightened as I thought I was. Regardless of my preference for women, regardless of the very real fear of what these men could do to me, I still have a hunk of cultural sludge in my brain that says 'sexual assault means you're desirable, and desirable is exactly equal to being worth something.'

Oh my god, self. Brb, beating inner demons with a stick.

(And it's not like I don't know why I'm not a target. It's laughingly simple. I stay away from people. It probably helps that I don't put effort into my appearance, I have a lot of 'don't touch me' body language, and I dress more or less like a guy, but those things have never been Rapist Raid from a historical perspective.)

Reading all these things also kind of makes me feel kind of skeevy about my taste in porn fic, but that's a whole 'nother blog post.

April 2nd, 2009

Why I will never have an autobiography: my story is so goddamn banal.

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Everybody had an unhappy childhood. )

But I had a brief nap today, and I'm feeling better about things. More or less.

I hope it's sunny on Saturday. I want to go to the Cherry Blossom festival then.

December 16th, 2008

Eeee, kitty.

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Day 4: Today I made a new friend - an absolutely beautiful cat named Zen. She's smaller and more finely-built than most cats, with beautiful dark brown stripes on pale tan fur. I'd let Mom borrow my camera, otherwise I would've tried to sneak a picture of her... anyway, she's a total and utter sweetheart and I was upstairs loving on her every chance I got. ^_^;;; I'll be sad when she leaves tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have time to get one last cuddle in.

You know, having this job has really driven home how much more comfortable with animals I am than with people. I can rattle off the names, breeds, health issues, likes and dislikes of every animal I take care of, but I still barely remember the receptionists' names. They're all perfectly nice people and have been nothing but friendly to me, but I just... haven't connected with them, I guess. Of course, I never really figured out the secret to making human friends. Animals are less complicated. And less likely to shred your self-esteem for their own amusement, but that's neither here nor there.

In other news, I'm linking this for my own reference, because it makes me feel like writing again.

May 3rd, 2008

Another step on my journey.

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Something that came out of me in therapy the other day: "My biggest fear is the cubicle."

Ever since I was little, I've known I wasn't meant to live an ordinary life. My first dreams never included a husband, kids, a white picket fence and all that. My Barbies, regardless of how they were dressed when they came out of the box, were all explorers and independent women and regularly kicked Ken's ass. I read fantasy and science fiction and imagined myself in those worlds. My heroes were female astronauts and the Yellow Ranger.

None of that has really changed, of course, but it's hard to keep sight of my fire when school's trying to groom me into another ad monkey. Nowadays when I worry, it's "What if I don't get a good job right out of college? What if I'm not a Productive Member of Society?" And I forget that that's not really what I want.

I want to travel. I want to create things that make people's eye's shine or their hearts beat faster. I want to tell stories. I want to sit atop a bluff and snark with Coyote. I want to steal fire from the gods and give it to everyone I can before they catch me. I want to sit in a coffee shop somewhere where I don't speak the language and find a way to make everyone laugh. I want to break barriers. I want to run as fast as I can. I want to be free.

It's okay if I don't quite match up to the expectations of some ad executive in Philadelphia. My world is so much bigger than that.

As usual, xkcd kinda sums it up.

March 11th, 2008

On friendship-karma.

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A friend's post got me thinking, and it occurs to me that the people who I want to know this might not.

I'm not poor, really, but I am stretched pretty thin these days as a result of not working. My emotional reserves are running a bit lean too, for various reasons. (Because of that I've probably been a bit distant toward some of you, and I apologize.) A lot of people have stepped in to help ease the stress, whether through the occasional small toy or candy or whathaveyou or their help with projects or just simple companionship, Inviting Me Out Places. I'm grateful for that, but at the same time part of me feels terribly guilty because in a lot of cases I can't reciprocate.

I know my friends aren't doing these things for me because they expect to be repaid. If they were that kind of person they'd be friends with someone else. ;P But it's a mental construct I have: someone does something for me, I feel like I ought to do something for them. Somehow the picture of equality between friends got translated into a scale. It's not something I'm proud of, but it just hurts when I can't do anything for someone who's been kind to me.

I've kind of decided, though, to look at it this way: right now I'm powerless, but that's a temporary condition. One day I'll be in a position to help someone. One day I'll be able to take someone to the movies, or to a concert, or just brighten their day somehow, and that's what I'll do. I'll give back what I've been given in some form or another. Paying it forward, like.

The thing is, I believe in a kind of karma. Everything you do shapes who you are, and the ripples affect the world around you and become part of what the world gives back. If I just keep all this kindness to myself, it'll just turn sour, and I get a lot of things wrong but I won't let that happen.

Be patient with me a little longer, okay? I'll bear fruit soon, I promise.
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