sleepdrunksecrets

[sleepdrunksecrets]

so i had an idea i couldnt shake

#the adventure zone

[sleepdrunksecrets]

Well this hits a little different these days. 

I don’t entirely remember what specifically inspired that line in 2016. The journal post it’s in is maybe 100 words on how when I get frustrated with things is when I most want to create. 

But now, in 2021... I’m out here being frustrated about how much I censor what I put on social media so I don’t out myself to my conservative family/friends (that I friended long before I knew I was queer). And I’m wanting to create queer-positive things. Embroider a sweatshirt with a quote from a queer romance, write about the fun, joyful aspects of being queer, build myself a little metaphorical palace of rainbows... 

It’s times like these when I cannot face my facebook feed that I lay my hands on anything and let them wring beauty from what they touch.

#I wrote that 2016 journal entry just days before the pulse nightclub shooting #I was 9 when 9/11 happened and I don't remember how I heard about it #I was in the car after church driving on dillon road when I heard about the pulse shooting on the radio

[sleepdrunksecrets]

I’m finding nothing about this via my 3 minute google digging and I’m still salty and frustrated so.

In season 3 episode 6 of Frankie Drake Mysteries, Life on the Line, Flo and Mary both end up working undercover at a telephone exchange. Over the course of the episode they both have their own little subplot - Mary listens in on a star-crossed lovers’ romance while Flo is stuck overhearing fatphobic comments. When we listen in with Mary we see silhouettes of the couple talking with Mary in the middle staring off into the distance wistfully. When we listen in with Flo we see nothing of the women on the phone just Flo’s reactions to the comments. At the end of the episode they wrap these little plot points up. Mary gets the couple to meet her at the courthouse so she can orchestrate their wedding and pulls Trudy and her boyfriend Bill in to be witnesses. Flo puts a hamburger and fries down in front of the woman who was on the receiving end of the fatphobic comments and delivers a witty quip about a diet plan called divorce where you can drop 200lbs overnight. 

Flo is the only recurring character to interact with her subplot. The woman gives her husband a Look as she ate 1 (one) french fry and that’s about all the interaction it gets.

Mary pulls other recurring characters into her subplot, we get to see the couple interact and look eager and excited as Mary pulls others into the excitement. 

Flo really was out there with no support from any thin person on the show. Like the writers said "okay, we can throw the fat character under the bus but we won't risk any of the thin characters.” The only other fat character was the boss of the telephone exchange who was a jerk and sexist and generally sucked. (Fat men also deserve positive representation.) We love to see a fat queen fighting fatphobia! But it was JUST Flo. Mary got to drag Trudy and Bill into her romance subplot. We got to SEE her romantic subplot through the episode. But Flo was out here fighting fatphobia all on her own, no backup, no support, nothing. Frankie and Trudy and Mary are all so supportive of Flo in other endeavors in other episodes. Even earlier this episode Mary was helping Flo study for a medical ethics test! It would have made so much sense to have them support her in this. But the writers didn’t give her any backup. Both Mary and Flo got a subplot but they were so vastly different. Mary got intrigue and romance. Flo, the one fat actor, the one fat character was given all the work and all the risk and all the discomfort of addressing what is still in this modern day and age a controversial topic. I don’t care if the actor who plays Flo was fine with it (I don’t know if she was). She should have had support. I should have been able to see a thin person support their fat friend, support someone who looks like me, being insistent that her body is not a problem to be fixed, not undesirable, not bad.

#frankie drake mysteries #fatphobia #fat men deserve better than to be slime ball jerks in power #I'm so frustrated and tired

[sleepdrunksecrets]

It's times like these when I cannot face my facebook feed that I lay my hands on anything and let them wring beauty from what they touch.

#Hey me from 2016? #That's gorgeous #It needs some revision #but i'm so in love with it

[sleepdrunksecrets]

What she says: I’m fine.

What she means: I understand the Chronicles of Narnia was at its heart a fairytale with theological analogies for children. But why did Lewis never address how they had to adapted to life on Earth again. Why does no one talk about how the Pevensies had to grow up with a kingdom of responsibilities on their shoulders, only to return to Earth and be children. Take Lucy, she was youngest and perhaps she adapted more quickly-but she had the memories and mind of a grown woman in an adolescent body. Edmund literally found himself in Narnia, he went from a selfish boy to mature and experienced man. He found a purpose and identity through his experiences to come back as just Edmund, Peter’s younger brother. Did people wonder why the sullen, sour boy came back, carrying himself like a wisened king? Did his mother wonder why he and Peter suddenly got along so well, why they spent so much time together now? And Susan, the girl of logistics and reason came back with a difference in her. She learned how to be a diplomat and ambassador, Susan the Gentle had to live to endure not-so-gentle circumstances. She had the respect she wanted, only to be just another teen girl. And Peter, he entered the manhood and maturity he so wanted. He earned the responsibility and stripes he yearned for. He learned to command armies and conduct the menial tasks demanded of a king to rule a nation. But he came back, appearing to be just anther glory-hungry boy. Not to mention the PTSD they must have struggled with. Especially Edmund. How often did he wake up in a sweat, screaming a sibling or comrade’s name? His parents believe it’s the war, but it’s an entirely different one he has nightmares about. How often did he have trouble with flashbacks and mood swings? And how many times did he and Peter sit over a newspaper or near the radio listening to reports on the troops. How often did they pour over lost battles and debate better strategies. Did their parents ever wonder why they seemed to understand flight war so well? How long was it before they stopped discussing these things in front of people? Why does no one talk about this??? 

[sleepdrunksecrets]

Just drove past some graffiti that said “butter is a milkshake” and honestly, I cant argue with that, but I want to meet the guy who felt strongly enough about it to put on a street sign

[sleepdrunksecrets]

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

[sleepdrunksecrets]

I reblog a big game and hope a big hope but I am deeply, utterly terrified by my body and my fatness and how the world views me and how I let that affect my life.

I watched a series of videos with a korean girl and an american girl sharing slang from their native languages and the utter disgust and horror as they taught and learned about the term 'fupa' has haunted me ever since. I am reminded of it when I touch my stomach, see myself in a mirror, get dressed.

I want to badly to be brave and bold and cute and confident. But I am so... not.

#look at that #my blog is living up to its name

[sleepdrunksecrets]

This started as four or five different ramblings that I have tried to cobble together and they are not as eloquent as I would like nor as concise as I would like. But there’s something about the stuttering, uncertain cadence that feels truer than if I pared this down. Also I’m lazy and have been working on this for, like, a month. So.

tl;dr I developed a crush?, a friend from college shook me, I feel selfish, and I’m terrified about all of it.

So three years ago I came to the conclusion that I was asexual. It wasn’t until about two months ago that I realized that I fell somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. About this time I developed what I can only imagine is a crush which complicated my aromantic-spectrum self-discovery. Suddenly nothing seemed certain. I wanted to look this person up on the internet; I didn’t know how aromantic I was anymore; I felt nervous and awkward and creepy because of the feelings I had developed seemingly out of nowhere for this person.

It occurred to me that I could ignore all of this and just not care; I could decide to just walk away from this and never try to understand it. And I don't think that would be terrible. But I'm also fascinated by this as well as terrified by it. And it is consuming me and I don't think being consumed by it is a good thing. I hope that by writing this all out I'll work through it and understand it and come out the other side a more thoughtful and aware person. And I guess at the root of things I want reassurance that this is maybe not normal but certainly okay. And I want validation that this is scary, that rarely if ever experiencing crushes is a thing and that when I do experience them it is okay to be scared.

I remember choosing people to have crushes on in high school. I would choose a crush just to have an answer when friends would ask. But I distinctly chose them. I would observe and evaluate and pick them based on aesthetic and personality and behavior and sense of humor and hobbies. I didn't develop feelings for these people I picked them to have an answer to a question. Like when a teacher sets an essay. Maybe you have to write about how something was influenced by WWI. And some people know that they want to write about how WWI changed fashion or how it changed the political state of the US or how it shaped the depression but some kids just say "this topic suggested on the rubric seems alright. That's my topic, I guess." I don't know that I ever experienced a genuine crush in highschool, that I ever just knew what topic my WWI essay would be on. I still don’t know if I’ve experienced a genuine crush. But I'm also not sure that I entirely understand what a genuine crush is.

I mean how can you really define a crush? I've read people try to describe them. I've tried to figure out what the difference is between romantic love and platonic love. All I do know is that something felt different about this recent attachment I’ve developed. And part of the frustration is that I developed these feelings - romantic attraction or not - on a fictional character.

Really though. Who doesn’t love Cisco Ramon from The Flash? Grant Gustin is cute and all but I just want to punch Barry Allen in the face. But Cisco. Anyway.

The damning first sentences of an article on TheAnatomyOfLove.com are "Love is involuntary. Brain science tells us it's a drive like thirst." (I assume that they were, of course, speaking about romantic love.) They also included a quiz; 'Are you in love? Take this passionate love quiz to find out!' It included questions like "I have an endless appetite for affection from _____." And filling in that blank with Cisco Ramon made me feel really weird. My total score was 59 (average score 106-135) and they classified it as 'Tepid, infrequent passion.'

So… Is that a crush? Is that a crush for an ace, demi-romantic person?

The article went on to talk about "the overall hypothesis" or that romance is one of three basic brain systems that evolved for mating and reproduction. 1. Sex drive/lust. 2. Romantic love/attraction. 3. Attachment. And of all of those attachment - "the feeling of deep union with a long-term partner" - is what I want. "Evolved to enable you to remain with a mate at least long enough to rear a single child through infancy together as a team - although many of us remain together much longer, and enjoy the benefits of life with a partner even when there is no goal to have children." BLESS.

So maybe I am feeling the first inklings of romantic attraction but I am terrified of letting that develop into something stronger. Which makes sense to me. For a long time I've been terrified of passion (that's another essay though). I'm terrified of seeing a gif of Cisco Ramon and dissolving into fits of unfulfillable wants and wishes. I don't want to be so enamored with a person - especially such an impossible-to-ever-meet--despite-what-movies-would-like-me-to-believe person. And so I watch The Flash fairly slowly (for me), I rarely search out Cisco gifs, I don't google him. I'm trying to starve it out of me if that makes sense, I’m trying to keep the desire tolerable. And I don't think I'm thirsting after Cisco Ramon?

Part of what makes this more uncomfortable is that Cisco Ramon is portrayed by a real person: Carlos Valdez. It is terrifying to me that I can stalk this person. Because that's how it feels. Creepy and obsessive and stalkery and gross. Because it's not just Cisco that I love - I love Carlos Valdez's portrayal of him. With a character in a book I can imagine more stories and meet-cutes and things like that but when it comes to Cisco I am imagining them onto a non-consenting, real human. And that's so uncomfortable to me. I want so snuggle on a couch and watch movies with Cisco Ramon and talk about how cool it would be to have textile-based metahuman powers and walk through the streets holding Carlos Valdez's - I mean Cisco Ramon’s hand but this is a real person who never agreed to be imagined in these ways.

I feel so incredibly uncomfortable fawning over a real person for fictional reasons.

For right now it is this terrifying attachment to a fictional character and the actor who portrays them and I can't tell how much of it is my projection of wants and desires and how much of it is just a thing that most people experience all the time. I don't know how much of this started as me saying 'pick a favorite character' and cultivating an attraction and using it to relate to friends and garner sympathy and how much of it was 'I find Carlos Valdez aesthetically pleasing and admire and respect and would like to form a relationship with Cisco Ramon.'

I feel so creepy and I'm so scared that I developed this attachment or the purpose of having a fav as a point of reference and interaction with my friends. And maybe that naturally transitioned into romantic attraction or sensual attraction or something and if that’s the case then I'm terrified that I can pick who I fall in love with. More than partially because society (and science) has said that we can't control who we fall in love with, we don't have any say in how we feel romantically about people.

All I know is that this (what I am calling a crush) feels new to me or at least unusual and it is strange and different and somehow more unavoidable than previous, ‘curated’ crushes? But I'm also worried that it's just more of the same and that what I am calling a crush is just what high school me did - constructed an attachment to a certain person based on aesthetics, personality, and behavior in an effort to feel normal and fit in. And I can't tell how much of this is my imagination and how much of this is natural, human attraction. What portion of it is fueled by my own selfish desires and what portion is a subconscious/unconscious... Reflex for lack of a better word. Thirst. What part of it is me deciding to extend my knee and what part of it is my knee extending because it has been acted upon by an outside force like a mallet at the doctor's office?

So when I was younger I really, really wanted a boyfriend. And I thought I wanted a boyfriend for noble reasons because what I wanted was companionship. Though I wouldn't have put it so concisely back then. And I think this is why I said yes to every boy that asked me out (all three of them). I was entering romantic relationships and expecting companionship would grow out of it.

The last romantic relationship I had was when I was fifteen. I dated a boy (let’s call him Taylor) for the first semester of 10th grade. During that relationship I calmly and almost coldly logicked my way into saying “I love you.” He said it first and I remember sitting there and thinking 'I want to say it back but I also want it to be true. Do I love him? Do I care for him? What is love?' It was this thing that I had to justify, had to back up with evidence and supporting documentation not something I just FELT. Towards the end of our relationship Taylor started pressuring me to sleep with him. And while many of my memories are sour and sad I also remember him coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around me while baking Christmas cookies at my grandma's house. When he did break up with me I believed so firmly that he did so because he wanted to have sex with me and I refused. It felt like he didn't find me loveable, he didn't find me worthy of a romantic relationship, companionship, any relationship unless he got sex out of it. And I realize now that some of that is on his values being different from mine but it didn’t help my self-esteem. I’m still realizing just how much that relationship, that breakup negatively affected me. With ten years of hindsight and selective memory loss I can’t say with certainty why Taylor broke up with me. But whether or not it’s the truth believing that he broke up with me because I wouldn’t sleep with him is what I needed to be true in order to cope.

I'm afraid of opening myself up to that heartbreak and humiliation again. Because now that I’ve typed it I feel the truth in it. I did feel humiliated by him breaking up with me. (Also the other two boys I dated. But again that’s another essay.)

It took a few years after that disaster but then it was really easy to be happy being single and not having any crushes. But developing these feelings, developing what I’m calling a crush sort of highlights everything that not being single could mean. It makes me wonder and question and imagine all those sweet, precious moments that a romantic relationship could bring. And that's what is maybe the scariest about this. Because having a crush and acknowledging it is acknowledging that I want something more - even if it is only sometimes or rarely. It feels so, so much lonelier than not having a crush at all. Because it makes me want something and then I question it and I doubt it and I contemplate it and I hate myself so much for it. Because I am not what society considers an attractive person, I am not a desirable person, I am not a selfless, loving, kind person. And the fact that the chances of meeting Cisco Ramon are none and the chances of meeting Carlos Valdes are slim to none also contributes to the loneliness/hopelessness..

Having a crush is so scary because I thought I knew all these things about myself and I thought I was happy and content and having a crush makes me feel hollow somehow. Less complete. Which I know is wrong and giving into wrong stereotypes and I hate that. It feels like there is something bigger than I am that I want but can't have. Interpersonal relationships are so hard. I can buy pens, I can travel the world, I can dye my hair. But I can't make someone love me. I can't make someone care for me. And having a crush is acknowledging that I want someone to. And it sucks.

This whole journey, this whole essay was born from the desire to be honest with myself. But it's so scary to let yourself feel things. If you don't feel things then you can never be disappointed, you can never be deceived by your feelings. If I don't let myself feel crushes, if I tell myself I don't then I am less likely to be hurt. But I want to be honest with myself and with other people.  

So after my disastrous 10th grade relationship with Taylor I didn’t date anyone else. And no one really asked. In college I was friends with this one guy (we’ll call him Dan) who, after I graduated, messaged me and told me that he really liked me but never asked me out because I deserved better. And that hurt so much because he was putting his feelings of inadequacy above any feelings I might have. And two and a half weeks ago (three years after he told me this), in a weird fit of honesty, I confronted him about it. I told him how much it sucked. And he gently informed me that he believed it was a misunderstanding. That he had tried to ask me out multiple times but in discussing potential relationships I said something that was interpreted as he wasn’t good enough for me. This blew my mind because I had not once realized he was attempting to ask me out. For years I had operated under the assumption that no one had found me desirable in any sense since Taylor. And in one incredible, heartfelt conversation Dan ruined that. I’m still reeling.

This whole journey has been about understanding myself and being honest with myself. And I'm so scared that that might mean admitting that maybe I do like Dan? That I do want to see him again, snuggle, watch stupid tv on the couch together. And then part of me is wondering how true these feelings are and how much of them are my desire for companionship latching onto someone who at one point was apparently willing to pursue that kind of relationship the same way I said yes to all three boys who asked me out (and I understood that they were asking me out).

That's why potentially feeling something for Dan is so scary. Because it's too convenient (despite the fact that he's currently dating someone). He liked me and so now if I like him I feel like it's easy, it's requited. It's everything my other romantic relationships were. I'm afraid of having a crush on someone because I never know if I like them because I like them or because they liked me and I liked being liked. It's that great White Collar moment where Elle Burke says "there's a difference between loving the idea of someone and actually loving who they really are." And that's what scares me about not experiencing crushes in general. I feel like I don't have that indicator that I like someone. I just like that they like me. And that's what makes learning that Dan really liked me in college so utterly terrifying. Because I don’t know how it's changed the way I feel romantically about him.

Is Dan just convenient or did I ever actually feel something different than platonic affection for him? I’m trying to figure out what feelings stem from my desire for companionship and what feelings stem from genuine attraction. I'm so, so, SO afraid of inferring romantic attraction where there is none.

I don't want to be the girl who wants a romantic relationship just to be in a romantic relationship. Because I did that. Three times. And they all ended horribly. I'm scared of my feelings, of not being able to find the line between my general desire for companionship and a specific desire for a romantic relationship with a specific person. I'm scared that any romantic relationship I'd pursue would be pursued for companionship not to test waters or get to know another person. I'm afraid that requited romantic attraction will open up the way for 15-year-old me to sink her fingers into the relationship and tear it apart looking for companionship only to find disappointment yet again.

I'm not sure that I'll ever know where the line is between my general desire for companionship and specific desire for a relationship with a specific person. And I think the fact that I am aware of it now, that I've had the epiphany that I don't want to enter into a romantic relationship just to be in a romantic relationship… I think that my awareness is all I can really hope for, all I can realistically expect.

I'm afraid of how high my expectations are. And I'm afraid of how far I'm willing to fall before deciding enough is enough.

I’m writing this, working through it because I want to be honest with myself. So let's do that. Do I like Dan? I feel like I might have the beginnings of a crush on Dan. But I also feel like those feelings could easily be born out of learning that he tried to ask me out multiple times in college. And I don't know which it is. And that's scary. And that's okay. (It also doesn't hurt that he's currently dating someone and I live pretty far away and these feelings don't need to be fully explored and evaluated any time soon.)

As you might be able to tell I'm trying to process a lot. I'm trying to understand myself and how I relate to other people and it's slow going. I want to work through it, I want to understand. But I'm also afraid of what I'm going to learn. I ran across a tumblr post recently about how the idea of fake gamer girls is a crutch for geeky boys - it gives them a shield, protects them from having to face the fact that they are just scummy people and that is why they feel/are rejected. And I worry that maybe I use asexuality but far more so identifying as demi-romantic as a shield, an excuse to say 'I don't date because I'm happy single' rather than entertaining the idea that I haven't experienced a crush or been asked out because I'm a bad person or selfish for wanting companionship (maybe even romance) without sex. I'm still working through this, still trying to balance being honest with myself with painting myself as a victim. I’m still trying to embrace that my wants aren't inherently bad. And it's really hard.

I would like to think that someday I could be not-single if I wanted to but then I think maybe I’m single because something inside of me is broken, because I’m broken. Somehow this is much more painful to me than being Ace. Because I don't want sex and I really don't want children. But I DO want companionship and that is most socially acceptable/stable if it is romantic companionship. Marriage is for life but marriage is also inherently this ROMANTIC (if not sexual) thing. I want that easy togetherness and kind-hearted teasing that comes with long term companionship. And I feel selfish for wanting that and feel like it would be so, so cruel to put another person through a potential romantic relationship with me when I don’t want kids, am fairly certain I don’t want sex, maybe don’t want romance at all but maybe kind of do. I still want another person to decide that I am their priority person in life, the person who kind of comes first.

How do you ask another person to come along for the ride when you don't know where you want to go, how you're going to get there, whether or not you're going to bail out partway through? How do you ask someone to sacrifice their life just so you can figure out yours?

#asexual #demi-romantic #what even is a crush #self-discovery #I suck at tags

[sleepdrunksecrets]

You don’t always get to know what kind of affect you’ve had on the world. You don’t always get to know if you helped people or hurt them of if they remember you or actually loved you or why they broke up with you. 

But sometimes you do. 

A challenging conversation led to a friend telling me that he gave me specifically credit for him being able to save someone’s life. That I specifically changed him, inspired him to become the person who was able to talk a gun out of his friend’s hand and save their life. 

And I inspired him just by being me. It wasn’t one thing I said or did. It was my attitude, my personality. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt more humbled. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt more unworthy. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt more like a fairy godmother. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt more scared, more intimidated. 

I don’t know what to do with this information. I think maybe all I can do is let it encourage me to continue to aspire to be the person who inspired him. 

Even though... I think maybe I’ve lost her. I’ve lost who I used to be. I feel more beaten, more broken, more selfish, more isolated, more hopeless than the girl he knew. 

#sorry #this isn't polished at all #just something I'm thinking about #and working through #and sometimes the blue void is more helpful than my journal

[sleepdrunksecrets]

So I love the idea of rolling with the punches and going with the unexpected and not being discouraged when things don’t go to plan.

But I also love the idea of, you know, having a steady job and being able to support myself. 

Which right now seems like a pipe dream...

#In which I am a very bad adult

[sleepdrunksecrets]

Dark Lords and Diadems

Summary: What was Voldemort up to during Chamber of Secrets and Prisoner of Azkaban? It just so happens he was picked up by a plump witch who dressed him in green frills and had him sing Britney Spears songs while holding a snake all so that she could exact revenge to soothe the sting of a 25 year old grudge.

#I WROTE A FANFIC AND I'M REALLY PROUD OF IT #Harry potter #delores umbridge #voldemort #crackfic

[sleepdrunksecrets]

YESSSSSSS

The Squirrel Incident

We have a rather large backyard. And with that backyard comes a variety of wildlife. Like, say, hawks and their squirrely prey. So today a hawk had caught himself a squirrel and was settling in for an afternoon snack when my mom, oblivious to his peaceful snacking, opened the back door, released the dog and the dog promptly startled the hawk so badly he flew off without his snack.

Thankfully the dog was tempted back inside with cheese before she discovered the left-behind squirrel.

My dog, Chai, would have eaten it. With glee.

But now my mother and I had a dilemma. You see, Chai needs the backyard. For things.So we can’t conceviably keep her from it forever. And Dad was off doing errands so he couldn’t take care of it. 

Mom and I sat hoping that the hawk would come back for his tasty morsel.

No luck.

So my mom ‘nope’d out of the situation, went upstairs, and told me to tell dad. I, however, was slightly curious and not totally resigned to making dad deal with it. So I armed myself with a shovel and mom’s advice to fling it over the fence into the no-man’s-land that is the busy street and sidewalk and grassy patches beyond our fence.

(Halfway to the squirrel Hawk flew overhead again. I stepped back to let him have his snack if he so wished. He didn’t take me up on that offer. I must have looked too menacing in my sweats and slippers.)

Dead squirrels are cute. I told Squirrel this as I looked at it’s lifeless body. I tried to gently scoop up the squirrel with my shovel. 

You know how when you eat rice with a fork sometimes the grains refuse to get on your fork?

Yeah. 

So I got myself a stick (a very long stick. This stick must have been 6 or 7 feet) to help nudge Squirrel into the soft, comfortable resting place that is the cradle of my shovel. After some tricky work and more words to Squirrel (anyone walking by must think I am insane as I tell Squirrel “You are so cute but you are so dead please get in the shovel cute dead squirrel”) I did it! I got the squirrel into the shovel!

As I made my way to our back fence I look into the shovel just to make sure Squirrel is just as cute and just as dead as it was when I nudged it in on its belly. IT WAS LYING ON ITS BACK. I screamed. But it still seemed dead.

Deep breaths.

Now my back yard has an 8 foot tall fence.

I am 5 feet tall. 

I am panicking because I am cradling a dead but cute but lifeless squirrel and Hawk is still flying around somewhere and I am a little afraid he is offended by me trying to get his snack out of my yard.

So I don’t think things through clearly. I stop, ready my shovel and CATAPULT….

The squirrel right into the fence.

I may have laughed. I may have stifled a terrified giggle. But I went back for more. As I looked down at Squirrel laying next to my fence it was just as cute and lifeless. I tried to scoop it up against the fence. 

No luck.

I got my helpful 7 foot pole back and nudged Squirrely McCulkin back into my shovel-nest.

And tossed it. 

This time it went over.

Good thing to otherwise it would have fallen on my head.

I think it only made it 3 feet from the other side of the fence. But I did it.

TL;DR - I catapulted a dead squirrel into a fence.

Then I catapulted the same dead squirrel over the same fence.

[sleepdrunksecrets]

The Squirrel Incident

We have a rather large backyard. And with that backyard comes a variety of wildlife. Like, say, hawks and their squirrely prey. So today a hawk had caught himself a squirrel and was settling in for an afternoon snack when my mom, oblivious to his peaceful snacking, opened the back door, released the dog and the dog promptly startled the hawk so badly he flew off without his snack.

Thankfully the dog was tempted back inside with cheese before she discovered the left-behind squirrel.

My dog, Chai, would have eaten it. With glee.

But now my mother and I had a dilemma. You see, Chai needs the backyard. For things.So we can’t conceviably keep her from it forever. And Dad was off doing errands so he couldn’t take care of it. 

Mom and I sat hoping that the hawk would come back for his tasty morsel.

No luck.

So my mom ‘nope’d out of the situation, went upstairs, and told me to tell dad. I, however, was slightly curious and not totally resigned to making dad deal with it. So I armed myself with a shovel and mom’s advice to fling it over the fence into the no-man’s-land that is the busy street and sidewalk and grassy patches beyond our fence.

(Halfway to the squirrel Hawk flew overhead again. I stepped back to let him have his snack if he so wished. He didn’t take me up on that offer. I must have looked too menacing in my sweats and slippers.)

Dead squirrels are cute. I told Squirrel this as I looked at it’s lifeless body. I tried to gently scoop up the squirrel with my shovel. 

You know how when you eat rice with a fork sometimes the grains refuse to get on your fork?

Yeah. 

So I got myself a stick (a very long stick. This stick must have been 6 or 7 feet) to help nudge Squirrel into the soft, comfortable resting place that is the cradle of my shovel. After some tricky work and more words to Squirrel (anyone walking by must think I am insane as I tell Squirrel “You are so cute but you are so dead please get in the shovel cute dead squirrel”) I did it! I got the squirrel into the shovel!

As I made my way to our back fence I look into the shovel just to make sure Squirrel is just as cute and just as dead as it was when I nudged it in on its belly. IT WAS LYING ON ITS BACK. I screamed. But it still seemed dead.

Deep breaths.

Now my back yard has an 8 foot tall fence.

I am 5 feet tall. 

I am panicking because I am cradling a dead but cute but lifeless squirrel and Hawk is still flying around somewhere and I am a little afraid he is offended by me trying to get his snack out of my yard.

So I don’t think things through clearly. I stop, ready my shovel and CATAPULT….

The squirrel right into the fence.

I may have laughed. I may have stifled a terrified giggle. But I went back for more. As I looked down at Squirrel laying next to my fence it was just as cute and lifeless. I tried to scoop it up against the fence. 

No luck.

I got my helpful 7 foot pole back and nudged Squirrely McCulkin back into my shovel-nest.

And tossed it. 

This time it went over.

Good thing too otherwise it would have fallen on my head.

I think it only made it 3 feet from the other side of the fence. But I did it.

TL;DR - I catapulted a dead squirrel into a fence.

Then I catapulted the same dead squirrel over the same fence.

#true facts about the emeebee #story time with emi

[sleepdrunksecrets]

This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I just want to get it down on paper (so to speak). 

So in my free time I don’t research how Christians tend to react to certain controversial issues. I probably should be informed about it but I would much rather watch cute cat videos that look into something that will probably make me want to tear my hair out. So I don’t know how Christians generally respond to Transgender/Transsexuality. But I assume it isn’t good. 

But here’s the thing. Christians believe God created a perfect world. Man disobeyed and the world entered its current fallen state where things like poverty, disease, illness, murder, theft, sin, and general bad things run rampant. I believe that because of this fallen state some babies are born with half a brain. Or die before they are born. Or are born with the genetics that will later result in their susceptibility to terminal cancer. 

So why is it so hard to believe that a baby can be born in the wrong body? That a person who identifies as female could be born in a male body? 

A Christian might view someone who feels they were born in the wrong body as ‘rejecting God’s will.’ That’s the best I can find in my quick googling. But is it rejecting God’s will when we give people with needs wheelchairs or prosthetic limbs or tampons (I thought about taking this one away but I’m keeping it in a fit of Feminist glory because somehow some Christians believe that being female is a position of inferiority) or contact lenses or antidepressants? Or technology? Am I denying God’s will by owning a computer? Those all feel a little hollow to me as comparisons. 

I feel like this has gotten off topic. 

The point I am trying to make is I don’t know God’s will. You probably don’t know God’s will. I have seen great Biblical arguments for women in leadership positions in Church. Even so, most churches DO NOT ALLOW women to hold leadership positions ESPECIALLY if they’re over men. The Bible is not some Step-By-Step plan that plainly details God’s One And Only Divine Will. So who is to say that people who feel they were born in the wrong body were not born that way so that their story of Gender Reassignment Surgery and experiencing persecution could do much good in the world? 

I think so often Christians allow their vision to be clouded by distaste for sin that they forget to treat the sinner as human. 

#transsexual #transgender #trans #transexuality #christianity

[sleepdrunksecrets]

It was interesting to stumble across this quote in light of the Charleston shooting and the other wrongdoings that have been too commonplace as of late. Beside this quote in my notebook I wrote “In a fallen world, this is true. I would love the power to fight. I never want to have to use that power, but it is necessary in a world of killers and rapists and evil.” 

I wish we never had to defend ourselves from killers but I also don’t believe we will ever encounter an Earth where that is the case. We can’t Law guns out of existence. Even if we did, people who wanted to harm and kill would find a way. 

Ender is talking about a great and terrible responsibility. He has to prove he is heartless enough to kill in order to get bullies to leave him alone. To win the current battle, but then do enough damage “to win all the next ones, too.” 

I don’t think there is a right answer when it comes to gun control. But I do think that keeping guns available to law-abiding citizens gives us power to cause pain, to kill and destroy. A way to feel safer. 

… the power to cause pain is the only power that matters, the power to kill and destroy, because if you can’t kill then you are always subject to those who can, and nothing and no one will ever save you.

Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

[sleepdrunksecrets]

The other day I was thinking about comments like "I would rather die than look like that." And for some people this is more of a reality. They diet and purge and exercise not to be healthy but to prevent themselves from looking a certain way.

But when you comment about rather dying than having my body that does something very harmful to me. Should I also want to be like you? Should I want to kill myself rather than continue existing in my body? 

Sure, sure, try to calm me down by telling me that I could change it if I wanted to. 

But here's the thing. Those comments were not "I would rather diet and exercise than look like that." they were "I would rather die."

Now a certain amount of hyperbole taints those statements. But to my self-conscious, horribly low self-confident ears hear is not level-headed enough to strip the hyperbole away before internalizing things like that.

This is why I hate body-shaming and the huge focus society has on body image. Sure, being healthy is a great thing and if that means you have the socially-acknowledged-as-desirable body then whatever. 

But in the same way that your sex life is none of my business my body is none of yours. 

How much I weigh should not at all cause me to feel shame or make you pity me or incite you to ask if I am sure I want to get dessert (which I will probably already feel self-conscious about wanting. 

Whether or not you are a virgin should not affect how people view you. Your skin pigmentation should not determine how people respect you. The amount of skin you show not dictate how people value you. How much you weigh should not change how people treat you either.

#body image #body shaming #fat shaming #skinny shaming