bullet point updates

I’ve been going on dates, meeting women, making out, but not making connections.

I bought a bag of mixed nuts in shells, but I apparently don’t own a nutcracker.

I’m wandering, feeling lost.

The election has made me anxious, nauseous, most of the time. I don’t like to talk or think about it, but I can’t help doing both.

Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life created more questions than it answered.

I wanted to make pumpkin custard pie, and then I realized that pumpkin pie is a custard.

I’m lonely, and it’s been a long time since I felt that way.

I want to know how to embrace who I am without letting others put limits on that.

I impulse bought peppermint frosted twinkies and snowballs today. They are delicious.

le sigh

I do not like having feels.

That aside, I went to a naked lady spa today with a friend. It was actually quite fun.  I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about the nakedness (my own, not others), but it wasn’t an issue at all.  I’d totally go again.

Moving on.

I’m feeling awful about life in general. It’s hard to keep perspective.

Fuck you, America.

So that just happened.  My country just voted the most hateful, xenophobic, racist, homophobic, misogynistic person into the oval office.  Thanks for the message, America. We get it: you don’t like us.  Fuck you.

What will this mean for the next four years?  What are going to happen to civil rights, freedoms, and liberties for those who aren’t straight cis white men?  I have no sympathy for those who voted for him, only for the rest of us who now can’t conceive what it means to be the country we’re living in.  Land of the free?  Home of the brave?  Bitch, please.

Telling me I live in a blue state is not helpful.  I’m not only scared for myself.  I know that this is bigger than me and my state, and I’m scared for those living in states where it was already dangerous to be who they were by birth.  It’s not going to get better.

And in a global sense: have you considered him learning national secrets?  Meeting other world leaders?  Being the head of the military?

I said since he first ran that we needed to take him seriously.  I am a small fish in a big ocean.  Not even my friends or family would take the threat seriously–they did not vote for him, but they never thought he’d make it in.  But he broke every rule, and now look.

The worst part is that America voted him in.  America voted him in.  Over half of voters were willing to stand behind the worst man for the job, to vote him in, because overwhelmingly straight cis white men they were, they don’t stand to lose anything.  Fuck you all.

election night rambles

It’s election night, and I’m drinking to buffer the horribleness that is currently happening.

The last time I was this buzzed/drunk (I am a lightweight, after all), was when I was seeing LM and we had drunk sex one night because she wanted to (it was good; she was right).  So being buzzed/on my way to drunk makes me think of her. What a doomed situation she was.

But I’ve been talking to this girl who reminds me of her–not in essentials, but in outward appearances.  I’m not sure what I’m saying right now.  There’s a lot of anxiety and booze in my system, so things are fuzzy.

I will regret this post.

This new girls lives too far away.  I met her the summer I came out. I was wearing a cat shirt the first time I went to our lesbian bar, and her friend came up and flirted with me. But her friend turned out to have no personality once I was sober.  I remember her, though. And she remembers me.  And we may actually go on a date one of these days.  She’s on the butch side of things, which makes me happy.  But I don’t know how it would work.  I suppose since we’ve never even gone on one date, I am getting ahead of myself. We’re going to have a phone call tomorrow.  I’ve definitely thought about getting her in bed. She’s hot.

So much regret–not yet. In the future.  We’re texting, so I’m texting her half drunk, which is a horrible idea, but I can’t stop myself.

Damn election.

I want to puke. Not from booze. From the election. Goddamn it.

the other shoe

The other shoe finally dropped, but I’m not sure it dropped so much as I tossed it.

On Sunday, C invited me to her place for coffee.  We talked for hours.  But the more we talked, the more some of my concerns solidified in my mind.  Concerns that had already been playing at the edges of my mind, and now were brought to the forefront.

She doesn’t seem to understand that being queer is not the same as being straight.  Every way that she talked about relationships and dating and sex was so heteronormative.  Now, in her defense, she’s never dated a woman and has only dated men thus far.  But there was just a huge lack of knowledge of anything queer.  I mean, she didn’t even know what dysphoria was.

Anyway, I brought up all this to her the next day over text.  The long and short of it was that she doesn’t like to identify with labels.  I tried to explain how being queer isn’t a label so much as it’s a way of life, a community, an identity.  She acknowledged her implicit acceptance of the straight label, which annoyed me even more.

So that was basically the end of that.  Dinner was cancelled, and I haven’t talked to her since.

I’m okay with a lack of experience (in many ways, I feel like I have very little experience myself), but I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who wants nothing to do with being queer and who wants to model their relationship after het-relationships.  I’m not into mimicking a straight relationship.  Especially with her being femme and me presenting masculine–I am not going to be the “man” of the relationship.  I’m gay for a reason.

Straight friends don’t seem to understand this, though.  My queer friends do (they all say she sounds super straight).  It’s things like this that I don’t think I should bother bringing up to the straight friends.  I hate having to defend to them what my other friends both understand and think is reasonable.

Le sigh.

But I already have two dates lined up, so you know I’m doing just fine.