commotiocordis

Some thoughts on gender. Also sex. So, umm, vaguely graphic things you probably don't want to know about me? ETA: This got SUPER tl;dr, so you can treat the bolded bits like a summary and just read those, if you're interested.



Over the past couple of years, I've begun to sort of question my gender identification, but I always end up feeling . . . idk, inadequate. I have long hair and I wear skirts literally all the time, I must be like the femalest female who ever femaled, right? When I go bra shopping, I look for things that push them up rather than push them down. I can tick absolutely zero of the standard outward-appearance indicator boxes for other-than-cis-genderism.

But I was looking through an old notebook a few months (maybe a year?) back, and something in there triggered a memory of being very young (7-8 ish) and in the shower and sort of daydreaming that I was pregnant because I was both male and female, and had managed to inseminate myself internally. (Weird, I know.) And that was a running thing, the feeling that I was both male and female. I mean, I knew it was biologically impossible, but that ~fantasy stuck with me for years.

Beyond that, you had your standard tomboy stuff -- I spent every day at the gifted program in elementary school playing kickball with the boys during recess; I remember one of my friends moving back in with her aunt for the summer across the street from my house and saying "Okay, let's start on your tomboy-ification" because she'd spent the year getting her hair brushed and wearing fancy clothes and I wanted a friend to climb trees with; I thought makeup was a fun toy back in third and fourth grade, but in middle school when girls started wearing it to actually wear it, I wasn't interested (save a bit of the black eyeliner goth stuff for a while, but even that got given up on all but special occasions). Those by itself, obviously, indicate nothing about a person's gender identity, but I feel like it's sort of a record of my never feeling female. On the other hand, I never felt male either. I never pressured my mom to let me buzz my hair, or pitched any more fits than the usual kid being forced into a dress for Easter church; I even chose to go by Alexandria instead of Alex in middle school (though that was more because I wanted to be unique than anything else).

As I got older, I spent late middle and most of high school pretty sure I was a lesbian, but I think that's because I wasn't interested in penetrative, penis-in-my-vagina sex, and thought that automatically, logically meant I was a lesbian. It was also a role to play, an identity that I could have -- I still call myself a homo all the time, even though it's not 100% accurate, just because I want to claim that experience, to be a part of that identity that as an other-than-mainstream-branch queer I sometimes feel I'm pushed to the side of. (That gets into a whole other long thing that there have been plenty of diatribes about by people much less tired than I am, so have some keywords like biphobia and erasure and Google it yourself.)

But still, I remember somewhere in earlyish high school (I was probably 15 or 16) watching an Oprah about women with huge clitorises with my Dad omg it was awkward at the time, and it being mentioned that they were pretty much just like little penises, and wondering aloud why that would be a bad thing. He said it was probably just image, or being worried the people they're with will think they're not female, but I didn't really get it. You still have all the female bits, you don't have to deal with the stigma of outwardly presenting as other-than-cis-gendered, and you get a mini penis that could be used (as one of the women's anecdotes related) for penetration; what's not to like?

Late high school/early college, I started to wake up to my boy attraction (thank you, David Tennant), but realized that I still wasn't interested in PIV sex. I get sex dreams pretty much never (maybe two or three a year, idk) but the few times I did, it was always oral/handjob, frot, or me as the penetrative partner (with a strong slant toward the latter two). Okay, dreams, I figured, we'll see if there's anything to this. It's very rare that I would fantasize as myself with someone else (I always masturbated to fanfiction without putting myself in either player's place really, *shrugs*), but I sort of tried it a bit, and holy shit does imagining fucking Olivia Wilde with my invisible dick get me off. Imagining jerking off said invisible dick is also surprisingly helpful. Frot (with both males and females) is pretty much Number One and has turned into my hugest fic kink ever. So, um, okay then. Apparently, my subconscious had a point, and I kind of want a dick.


But I don't want to be male. Not particularly. Not consistently. I've expressed a desire to be male when doing things like going to the Adam Lambert concerts, because I wish that things like painting my nails and putting on tons of makeup and glitter were expressed to other people as the alternative gender performance that they really are for me, rather than it just being something that girls are expected to do. I'd get a hysterectomy simply because I have such severe premenstrual dysphoric disorder and it's the cause of much misery and suicidal ideation, but I don't think I'd ever get top surgery because my breasts don't really bother me. I'd love to magically have a penis, not gonna lie, but I don't know if I could stomach ever doing something so drastically radical and unchangeable to my body, and definitely not at the sorry state of technology that bottom surgery is now (for those who haven't spent ages looking this up and thinking about it -- probably another sign that I wasn't just investigating for Roommate and Scientific Curiosity -- a huge huge percentage of FTMs don't get it because it's like $200,000, and even then comes with severe risk of losing sensation and has only mechanically-assisted function and isn't even always able to pass, like most good MTF bottom surgery is).

Speaking of Roommate, I spent quite a while not talking about this (or even really thinking about it) because I was sort of worried that maybe I was just feeling this way because she had been exploring her FTM-ness and I just wanted to . . . be special like her? But now that I'm thinking about it, it goes back so far that I think it just took Rachel to make me realize that maybe this was a thing and not just that my body issues were just standard low level eating disorder and the fantasizing about having a penis thing was a minor and probably-should-be-suppressed-if-you-ever-want-a-working-relationship quirk. Would I ever have expressed it anywhere but my own fantasies if she hadn't been around? Doubtful. But I don't think that makes it any less real, I guess?



I think there's a lot of weight to be put on my attraction map. (I'm not sure if that's a thing, but that's how I've been thinking about it for some time now.) Somewhere along the line, my concept of beauty got set with a skew sort of towards the feminine, as this ideal with a feminine face and (generally) androgynous body, and that's more or less my ideal image for myself. One of them, I guess. I'm attracted to people who are more or less that andro-chic look, but I also find a strong aesthetic appreciation for people with more feminine bodies (i.e. curves), and therefore sometimes I'm okay with looking like that, too. Sometimes. The ~feminine me still doesn't like to do her makeup and hair every day, or make a sandwich for her boyfriend because she's supposed to, or stay home and watch the kids, and is definitely still more of the power female, but she's more okay with her curves even to the point of sometimes feeling sexy in a clingy dress or something. It's like I'm bigendered, with the two sides being genderqueer and female. Which is super weird.

I know that most of my gender performance is because it's just easier. The constant skirts is a body image thing, because I have, um, probably some kind of serious body dysmorphic disorder when it comes to my thighs and have a hard time handling looking at them, so it's easier to just wear skirts. The hair is vanity, given, but it fits in with my sort of feminine facial ideal. I'm not sure if I'd rather be flat chested or curvy (the andro or the feminine), but I've got tits. (Pretty easily bindable ones, much to Roommate's consternation, but all the same.) And so I work what I've got; I buy the push-up bras, because I at least want what I have to be perfect. (Hallo, perfectionism/control issues/the root of much misery.)

It tends to mean I attract "the wrong kind of person" for me; I think, because of the typology of people I'm attracted to and my slash hobbies and all of this stuff, etc. etc., if I ever were interested in a relationship, even with a man, it would probably have to be someone out of the queer community. I'm read pretty much as straight, or on very rare occasions, hit on by more butch girls, when I want to be the sort of dominant one or at least equal in a relationship (not that relationships require any kind of dom/sub -- and I do not mean this in the BDSM way, but just in general dynamics; the leader and the follower -- or male/female traditional binary roles, but often they sort of happen, even in friendships sometimes, I find). I'm the toppiest top who ever hasn't actually sexually topped, as we say. Which is why I think I'm not hit on by gay girls more often; idk, maybe I put off dominance vibes, so no one comes to me, but then I don't go out and go after anyone? I mean, I'm not interested in a relationship, really, which is why I have no particular drive to change anything about how I present, but it doesn't mean I'm not super jealous when Roommate gets hit on all. the. time. by lesbians and nobody ever looks twice at me.

I'm not sure if I'm attracted to males (almost exclusively gay males in real life, or celebs with more feminine features/presentation) more often when I'm feeling genderqueer/andro and females more often when I'm feeling feminine, or if it's the other way around. I think genderqueer me is attracted to both/pan, and feminine me is more attracted to the women side of the spectrum, maybe? I notice periods of time when I'm much more likely to look pretty much exclusively at women and periods when I look at both or more men (but I don't think ever exclusively), with androgynous types being somewhere in the middle of both, but I'm not sure if that correlates to periods of feeling one way or the other. (I also couldn't tell you how often I feel one way or the other, because it's not really a line that I jump across or anything.) I know I've never had a sexual dream/fantasy where I was explicitly female with a man (a lot of the time, I'm sort of . . . non-gender specific?), but I've been female-bodied in lesbian dreams.

And when I say attracted, I really just mean aesthetic appreciation. I'm pretty sure I'm pretty asexual. I can look at people and think they are ridiculously attractive, and I can look at people and think I want to spend time with them, and I can look at people and think both, but never do I look at someone and think "I want to have sex with you." That's just not something that goes through my mind ever. The biggest, longest running crush on a Real Life Boy I've ever had, I don't think I've ever had a sexual thought about him, and only fleeting ones for my Real Life Woman crush (but that didn't really count, because she wasn't really a Real Life person because it was literally impossible to have a relationship with her being, um, my teacher) -- I'll on occasion have sexual fantasies about celebs or something, but I know if I ever, for instance, had the opportunity to do whatever I wanted with Olivia Wilde for one night in real life, we'd have dinner and talk politics and maybe cuddle. I remember realizing, at a Halloween party last year, that I hadn't gotten off in a while, and there was a guy there who was kind of cute (in that lighting, at least; turns out not so much, but still), and that I could totally make out with, possibly do him if I wanted to, but I didn't. Not at all. Not even "oh, that'd be nice but I don't really know him so that's dumb"; there was just no desire whatsoever, even when I tried to mentally put someone else (including women) I knew better in his place.

But then again, I think I would have no problem, if I broke past some barriers and was in a relationship, having sex. I enjoy orgasms. (Or, um, I did. Fucking anti-depressants.) But I don't . . . go out and look for it? I have no particular desire to have sex with another person, save maybe for scientific curiosity, but if you were here and I was here and we were really good friends/in a relationship and were bored or (idk if I ever actually get this way, but) horny or whatever, sure; as is an occasional catchphrase in our house, "Here, have some orgasms." I've told Roommate before (I think I was probably drunk, but still) that I would totally do her if she ever wanted to fool around, just because I love her (platonically) and if I can do something that makes her feel good, why not? That puts me more on the aromantic side of the spectrum and would disqualify me from "true" asexuality in some people's narrow views, but whatever.


COOL STORY BRO. Just some things I've been thinking about. I kind of tend to just go "agh, fuck labels" because I am so confusing, but at the same time, I feel . . . idk, like I said above in regard to my lesbianism in high school, like I don't want to get left out of this group that I belong to? I don't generally stress about them, but they helped in this case to sort of ~express my feelings. Of all the things I angst about, though, this isn't one of them. The fact that I'm Ace doesn't disturb me (even though I have the probably unpopular opinion that most asexuals probably could be diagnosed with some kind of attachment or arousal disorder; just because it's a thing -- like Roommate's Gender Identity Disorder, or my redheadedness -- doesn't mean you have to do anything about it if it's not distressful or an impediment to functioning). I imagine the gender thing might be more disturbing if I was desiring of a standard, heterosexual relationship (or any relationship at all), but because of the asexuality, it's just not an issue. I wish that my gender performance could be more in line with how I actually feel I'm performing (see above Adam Lambert example), but that's life.

Sometimes, Roommate and I say we're 200% gay. It's crazy; we're like fucking SuperQueer over here or something. Fuck yeah, house of fabulousness.

I keep reading over this and wanting to add more/change things to make sure it all makes sense, but I think exactly two people are going to read even this much, so we'll just hit post.

LOL at how I wake up at an ungodly early hour and try to do homework (and can't, because I can't find my lab schedule so I don't know which one to prep for microbiology), and munch on a handful of Fritos, and somehow the smell is enough to wake up my roommate. One handful! That's crazy to me, considering the window is open and my fan is on by my bed and that it was literally only one handful worth. Plus, though I can smell them, you don't think of Fritos as overwhelming stench. Idk, they're not great, but across the room? I'm fairly pissed, because she all but wakes up and yells at me, and I'm all WTF. If you had let me get the nap I wanted this afternoon instead of making me waste my time trying to sleep when you turned the light on, I would have been productive enough to (try to) do this reading before going to bed and you wouldn't have this problem. It was funny, though, how she's like "Do you smell that?" And I've got no idea what she's talking about, so I'm like "No. I . . . can open the window, I suppose?" And she asks if I cooked something, and the answer's still no, but I pause and think about it for a while because I've got no idea what it could be and my brain isn't good at switching gears from microbiology to smells when startled by her popping up like that--it's like she's got Fritodar, and as soon as my hand leaves the bag she pops up and makes some comment about the smell. If I'd downed an entire bag or something, maybe I'd get it, but to not only be smellable across the room but supposedly wake her up? I'd really rather she just asked me not to or something, if it bothers her, because this little side-comment thing she pulls is annoying.

Still no internets. In the basement computer lab atm. Might hit up some random stores just to have something to do. It's kind of depressing here, frankly, in that though normally I'd be fine engrossed in my computer, everybody's parents came down for the weekend and I'm all post-just having to go back to school (I could have gone back with bleakone this weekend, but I didn't think it was worth fighting my overwhelming school anxiety to pull myself back here after only being gone a week) and menstrual and all low-self-esteemed and my computer's being an utter whore, so I'm wallowing a bit.

The computer? *#)(*$(#@!!. I don't know what its freaking problem is. The interwebs, fine. Those are working only off and on. But the freezing and slow running and near-constant hangups are getting worse and worse. The screen brightness won't change and is stuck at dull (which is a Vista control problem). Plus, the godsdamned warranty repair people still haven't gotten back to me. I'm going to call and tell them that by god, if they don't answer inquiries from their website sent IN THE MANNER THAT THEY SPECIFY IS PREFERRED, they sure as hell better hope that I don't write a letter to Toshiba and ask that they be taken off the approved warranty repair center list. In fact, come to think of it, I might do that anyway.

Speaking of writing letters, I've been using my gym membership from home to get into the gym here, right? Because they told us (bleakone and I) that I could, and then used that to sell bleakone a membership there. Lo and behold, we talk to somebody else when my temporary card runs out and it turns out the girl that did the selling didn't know what the fuck she was talking about, and I could only use my Club Fitness membership for a month (since it's a monthly contract thing) and would have to then buy into their contract (the minimum term for which is longer than I hope to be down here, I think) at some more than double the price per month. WTF. If we had known this, there would have been some considerable rethinking before bleakone bought hers, as the major selling point (that the chick used to hawk the thing) was that we could both work out there. Does that not seem like a bait-and-switch out the wazoo?

I can't even describe how pissed off I was. Now, when I need the thing more than ever (the inexplicable weight gain has continued no matter what I do to try and stop it--it's to the doctor next because I'm starting to wonder about hypothyroidism as I've had those symptoms before and it matches up), I'm essentially stranded. Especially during the winter, you're waiting an hour in the gym at school for a treadmill because there are maybe 6 total in the entire sports facility (which is nothing to speak of) which has very restricted hours anyway; there's a stairmaster in the basement that I can get into anytime, but blech. This also means that there's really no reason to keep up my membership at home, but then what will I do when I go home? There was talk at one point when I was first leaving about setting it up so I was just billed for the days I'd be on break at the proportion of my monthly fee at Club Fitness, but then they decided it was too hard. I'd like to try to get them to do that, but I'm not sure if I'd need to mess with corporate (prolly, as they do the actual billing) or go through the people that I know, the latter meaning a better chance of success.

There's a VIP membership level thing that lets you bring friends as much as you want at the Ozark Fitness here that bleakone might switch up to if it's as cheap to do so as I remember, and that would cover me down here since we drive together anyway and are going to try to find an apartment together for next year. But the "switch up to VIP for free" promotion is over, apparently, and when she asked one of the receptionists it was indicated that that would require a rewriting of the contract. What I really want to do is march up there and put all this to them; how she was sold the membership under mistaken/false pretenses and therefore they really should release her from the contract without penalty, but with a contractual membership place like this they don't give a damn about customer satisfaction because you're already paying them the money, so they could just say "to hell with you" and keep on billing.

But the combination of that and the daily billing at CF would work well. Problem is setting it all up, which is a lot of naggling and conversations (the CF ones all having to be done either through my father or over the phone, the former being difficult because he's kinda gymgoing!fail and the latter being difficult because OMGphonehate) and in the meantime, a lot of long boring stairmastering (at least the workout room in the basement of my dorm with the stair thing has a TV up close to the machine; the fitness center has TVs all the way across the room that you can't hear that are never on anything I want to watch anyway).

Not sure when I'm going places--prolly in the nowish time zone, as I've got to go work out (I've got bleakone's pass to use the gym of customer service fail atm since she went home and is a goddess like that) and don't really want to make two trips. IH all these time restrictions--gym closes at 8, which means I've got to leave by 6:15 or so, which means I wouldn't get dinner because the dining center has shitty hours on the weekend (5-7, and being used to eating dinner anywhere from 7-12 I'm physically incapable of eating at 5), so I've got to go exercise now, but there's nothing on TV. *whine*

Oh, and the roommate's boyfriend is staying the night in our room. Not that there will be sexing or anything (I highly, highly doubt it), but just AWKWARD LIEK WOAH. And bleakone's not even here for me to go camp on her floor. Does not want.

I really want it to be acknowledged that out of the huge, huge piles of dishes in the sink here, none of them were mine. None. In fact, I broke down and washed a bunch a few days ago just because I wanted to fill up my water pitcher and couldn't even get a glass in there to bail water into it, much less the pitcher itself. It's not like they're blaming it on me, but my. . . idk, sense of self-something and paranoia is making me think that when they're moaning about how utterly many dishes there were, they're putting it on me. Ahh, neuroses.

/much earlier today.

Reading the weather, because it's supposed to suck and I've got to drive home Thursday (one of the suckiest days). There's a wind advisory atm which makes total sense, as I can barely walk outside. This is the National Weather Service's definition of a wind advisory:

A WIND ADVISORY MEANS THAT SUSTAINED WINDS OF 30 MPH OR GUSTS TO 45 MPH ARE EXPECTED. WINDS THIS STRONG CAN MAKE DRIVING DIFFICULT...ESPECIALLY FOR HIGH PROFILE VEHICLES. USE EXTRA CAUTION. WINDS THIS STRONG MAY ALSO BREAK LIMBS

Sure, they meant trees, but isn't it quite a funny visual (and potentially true--you should see this shit!) the way it first pops into your head?

Oh, your roommate is asleep so you assume you can just come in and hang out in my room? Umm, no. It's 11:30, you don't think that I might be wanting to go to sleep as well? Gah.

Oh, and House? HOLY SHIT, OLIVIA WILDE, DO NOT DO THAT TO ME. *pants*

OMG. And this is fucking it. I'm about to cry, I'm so goddamned pissed off. She manages to find the time to go around and make these little index cards in the kitchen with multicolored sharpies that say things like "The ice bowl is for ICE. Don't put other things in there." And have a bunch of dishes out on the counter and with one that points to some of them and complains that they weren't washed out properly and another that bitches about how some other weren't dried properly, and are now molding.

Admittedly, I'm in a pissy mood. So I'm taking this as an attack a lot more than I probably should, because one would hope that this isn't directed at me. But I can't help but think that it is, because Chelsea went all buddy-buddy with the other two and the three of them have pretty much just ignored me except to make me miserable this entire almost-month. So it feels like I'm getting ganged up on for no reason. Wanna know why no reason? A) I don't use any of those dishes that she had out on the counter. They were these tupperware things that somebody brought, and though I've used items from the set on occasion, I use the same two containers of a totally different size, one of which was in my room still because I hadn't had the chance to wash it out yet from last night and I didn't want to stick it out in the sink because things in the sink piss me off (as then you can't use the sink) and I'd just get bitched at for leaving dirty dishes. B) Any mold that's around is because nobody else in the house knows how to wash dishes, and some idiot put the sponge in their cutsey little holder when it was still full of water. The sponge is freaking disgusting with that nasty mold smell--that's what's molding the dishes, not a failure to dry.

And then there was a list of "missing" kitchen stuff. Okay. . . it's not like they're gone forever. I've got one of the plates, the bowls are still in the other room because they had popcorn in them one of those nights they were keeping me up, and the silverware. . . yeah, idk about that. I've got a spoon along with the aforementioned plastic container I had cereal in yesterday, but that's all I can come up with on my part. Still, it's around. There was really no need to write something out to call everybody out on it, because that's both annoyingly passive-aggressive and far more mountain-out-of-molehill than was called for.

And the first little sign? There was a ziplock bag full of ice in the ice bowl. From when Breanna cut her foot in the dining hall and subsequently passed out and scraped her face. In-fucking-considerate much? If it pisses you off that much to have something in the ice bowl (that I'm the only one who ever refills the trays for), just take it out. Don't make a thing. And especially don't take the bag of ice out of the freezer and set it on the goddamned table, you idiot. Seriously, how can you be that fucking stupid?

But the thing that really got me? I nicked a bunch of veggies from the dining hall and put them in plastic bags. The others eat them, which again pisses me off to no end, but that's not the issue. Somehow, one of the bags (that I didn't finish, because I immediately wash out the baggies that I empty and then usually fill them up again, and this still had cauliflower remnants in it) got stuck in my one (yeah, another thing--they staked out the entire kitchen before I got there, so out of the 8 or so cabinets and 5ish drawers, I get one) little drawer. It wasn't there last night, which means I'm pretty sure bitchface stuck it in there during her little cleaning spree this afternoon. And the amount of nasty it had in it (the remaining cauliflower bits plus accumulated moisture had gone bad) meant that it was well past the point where most people would just throw it away by the time she did so. Even if she thought I'd left it wherever she found it, what kind of miserable, tiny little excuse for a person would toss a moldy plastic bag into the drawer where I keep my food?

Other random incidence of hate: she's going up to St. Louis for a baby shower/birth/something of a friend weekend after next. And not once has she asked if I wanted to tag along. Even though I've sort of prodded a bit ("So where in St. Louis are you going, exactly?" type things). Which is funny, because when she was smarming up to my parents during move-in weekend, she specifically mentioned to them that she's got family up there too, so she'd probably be back and forth. The implication of her mentioning it to my parents being that I could come along, right? She wasn't just offering herself up for visits on her trips up near my home, was she?

It's not like I can just go to my RA or anything, because it's been pretty obvious that said RA really took a liking to the other three pretty quickly--they're the peppy, school spirit-y, go have a Cinderella dinner with the guys on the other side of the hall types like she is. Plus, RA = annoying fail! lab partner. Who chose Chelsea for floor president before even talking to any of the other people that said they were interested, but still made us all go in and talk to her while she pretended she hadn't already given the job away after the first interview. Yeah, doesn't work so much when she's my roommate and came back and told me immediately because she didn't know I wanted it as well. I really wanted to just blow of the meeting with the RA after that, as it was pretty much pointless, but I didn't want to piss her off, as I'm pretty sure she can make the rest of my year here a living hell. Even though I'm carrying her through my human genetics lab (actually, that's mostly why I'm still doing so without making snarky comments about why she's so useless in there).

So I'm in the stairwell on the roof landing atm, just to get away from them because I'm so fed up. I'm pretty sure she and Breanna were talking about me when I came in too (which would explain why they were acting so pointless when I was writing the first half of this post in there), so I hope they're having fun going back to that. I have no internets here, though, so I'll have to remember to hit post when I get back into the room. Which prolly won't be until my battery dies and I'm absolutely forced to. Except I have to pee, so maybe slightly before that.

Hate. This whole situation really sucks. Even though I'm really just starting to bitch about it now, it's been going on the entire time I've been here, just that little honeymoon phase was sort of making it not seem as bad. Now it's bad.

So I read an article in the NY Times this morning. 1 in 4 Americans think that the US enjoys too much freedom of speech and the press. (I can't find the actual article online as of yet, will have to check.) Nice job, America. I hereby declare that 1/4 of you are morons.

Oh, breaking news! Watching CSPAN, and one of the Democrats (Betty McCollum, D-MN) is now bitching that a Republican (Virginia Fox, R-NC) called Democrats anti-American. In form of a "parlimentary inquiry", whatever that means. Nothing, evidently, as nothing happened. She basically went "OMGZ, did you hear that, Speaker? She totally called us a bad name." And the Speaker was all "Umm, whatever. I'm not the referee. I'd like to remind all parties that all comments should be directed towards the Speaker and not to each other." And that was it; Fox just went back to talking after re-getting the floor.

The Speaker's fed up with the Republicans. Or at least their interruptions on stupid stuff. It was a nothing resolution (honoring Constitution Day, I'm assuming), and somebody stood up and said "OH NUH-UH! No quorum here, so that vote didn't count, kthx." And when she stood up to be recognized, the speaker had this "Oh, not again" tone of voice. It was really funny.

Quorum calls are boring. The Senate's been doing nothing the entire time I've been watching.

Back to the House. Noise mitigation re: airports near schools. You know, I've been thinking about this Federalist/Anti-Federalist issue that I've got to take a side on for a polisci position paper, which is hard for a bicameralism fan like myself. But when it comes to things like this, I start thinking that I'm a big anti-federalist fan. This issue, at least. I mean, come on. How many schools across the nation are near enough to airports to have this issue? Seriously? I understand that since the issue is using FAA funds (the F, federal, being the sticking point), it's got to be done on the federal level, but it seems like a big waste of time for something that could be handled with state legislative time.

And we switched to naming some place (North Platt?) in Nebraska "Rail Town, USA". And have been discussing that FOREVER. And now (name!fail) Thaddeus McCotter (R-MI) is blathering about how DC is "Railtown, USA" because of politicing about the energy bill. Shut up and let them pass this waste of my tax dollars-paid time.

Except this was this afternoon, and I fail at posting when I'm actually writing things. Roomtypes are watching Youtube videos of old "So You Think You Can Dance" routines. (Edit: more than an hour later, still going. How many dances are there to watch, for crying out loud?) I wish to go to sleep. Not happy.

Walked to Walgreens (sort of--rode the shuttle about halfway, then walked all the way back) just a bit ago with bleakone. OMG, Oreo Cakesters for $0.10 each. Like, those packets of three? $0.30. I ended up getting 5 because I wanted to use up the end of my moneys gift card thing--if I just left like $0.50 on there, it'd never get used.

Edit: I just caught from the cohabs "And we don't have to go to bed until 12:30 in the morning" "Don't you have your 8:30 class tomorrow?" "Yeah, but it's just dance." No mention of the other person in the room who has an 8am class tomorrow that's not something stupid like dance and is instead the hard-to-stay-awake-on-the-best-of-days polisci lecture. Grr.

I am laughing so hard right now.

The 5 Most Baffling Sex Scenes in the History of Fanfiction

Except I take offense to them all being slash. Umm, I'll admit that most of the weird pairage I've read has been slash, but that's because most of what I read is slash. Biased sample. There's some pretty f'd up het around too.

Mostly I take offense (and this is the whole reason I'm actually laughing) because I'VE READ THE FIRST ONE AND I LIKED IT KAYTHX!

And on a personal front. Still have nothing packed. I think I'm avoiding it because I'm scared. Cohab asked me which bed I prefer and I've got no idea, simply because I can't visualize the room setup in my mind. It does actually really matter to me, having to do with that sleeping vulnerability primal-tastic issue I've got, but I can't quite articulate the requirements (part of that being a -primal- vulnerability issue thing). I can't have my head by the door. And the other person has to be in such a position that were a mad axe murderer to enter during our sleep, she'd get killed first. (That sounds horrible, but it's not a conscious, I'm afraid of mad axe murderers thing. It's a "I can't sleep with anyone else in the room" thing, so sure as hell nobody gets to come in and surprise me.) It's pretty obviously a loltrust issue; deep down I've sort of associated sleep with vulnerability--being able to sleep in front of someone is like when your dog knows you're its master and bares its belly to you. It's exposing itself to all sorts of danger as a sign that you've dominated it. Being unconscious and vulnerable like that in front of other people is a trust level that I haven't reached--hell, that I have trouble with with my own family.

Dentist today and yesterday (and tomorrow, LOLOL). Today and yesterday were to get this cavity in the one side of my mouth that drill-breaking dentist #2 never got to before exhausting my insurance with her fraudulent-arsed billing. Because it was bugging me pretty heavily over the weekend. But they shoved the Diagnodent thing up there and poked around, and according to the fancy toy and the x-rays, neither of the cavities up there should be deep enough to be causing the pain (not even deep enough on the Diagnothingy to warrant the destruction of tooth to fill yet) and it was probably the tooth being irritated from having stitches right up the way between it and the next one that pulled down on the gums. And possibly sinus stuff. I was like "Erm, methinks not" as I'm pretty darn familiar with the various types of tooth pain, but I grabbed the explorer and poked it in the sore spots myself, and the dentist wiggled around the thing and said that yeah, it was a bigger stick than the Diagnodent indicated it would be, and that we prolly should fill it because it's bothering me, but that we could go ahead and wait until the insurance reset in October if I wanted to. Hellyes, I responded, even though it's sad because I won't be going back to that guy. Figures, I finally find a dentist (and hygenists/techs--I actually met with two of them, one yesterday when I got in so they could see if I needed OMG EMERGENCY cavity repair because it was still bugging the crap out of me and started the exam, and one this morning when I returned for the cleaning, and they were cool) that I actually really like, and he's out of network.

Tomorrow is just another checkup on the graft with the periodontist. It's really picked up in the healing, methinks. Like, it feels mostly attached now. I've been a little bit "to hell with the soft foods thing", just being careful, and there've been no problems. I managed to sneeze/stretch open the hole on the roof of my mouth a couple times over the last week and make it bleed again, which was not fun, but not lately, which makes me hope that it's finally healing up.