We might have an apartment.
I'm trying really hard not to get my hopes up. Because something might not work out - credit check, whatever it may be - these things happen. But it's cozy, and in a good neighborhood, and fucking cute as shit. Can I say that? Does it make it more manly if I say "fucking" and add "as shit" on the end?
We went to Ikea on Sunday and looked at couches, and bed frames, and bookcases, and kitchens that we can't have but I'm not too upset because the kitchen really is a nice size... and we're going to need new sheets. I love new sheets.
I find myself literally daydreaming like a 14 year old with a new crush. Sitting at work thinking about what to put on the walls, and what stuff am I going to keep and what should I give away? Realistically my room is not going anywhere. My 8'x10' cell-sized space that I've called a bedroom my whole life will not be disappearing as soon as I leave. I can move stuff slowly, over time... right? I don't want to get rid of everything. I like my stupid stuff. My water canteen that I've never even really used, my pictures on my walls, my toy Shelby's up on my shelf and the pink fuzzy dice that I don't have a car to put in anymore... I love my stuff.
Some stuff can go, but it's going to be weird to leave home. As much as I've wanted to leave, now it's strange to realize that it's really going to happen...
Wish me luck.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
I know it has been almost a month, but between work and Disney and Renaissance Faires, I haven't been on my computer too often. So here I am, to say that I'm proud of myself.
Before I even start I want to make perfectly clear that not all men are like this. I, in fact, have not met every single man and cannot speak for anyone but myself. I hate generalizing, and I would never do it. But some men - some men that I have come in contact with - are EXACTLY like this. So please do not take offense if you are a man who is not like this, because I clearly am not talking about you. You're great, and funny, and outgoing and understanding. But not all men are like you. Some of them, are like this....
This weekend we went to visit a friend's childhood home in MA, where her family is still living. We drove up Friday night and went to King Richard's Faire on Saturday. It was a nice site, a lot more 'rustic' than the NY Faire, which was fun. What was not so fun, was knowing that no matter how hard I try, I'm not passing as much as I hope to.
BUT! There is hope. I used the men's room like a champ. They're all just whipping 'em out and takin' a piss, and I stroll in, duck into a stall, do my thing, step out and wash my hands quick before walking out the wrong door and stumbling my way through the guys outside waiting for their chance to probably pee all over the seat. Like they do. But I kept my head low, and didn't get the shit kicked out of me. Which is always, and I mean always, a win.
It's not just that men's rooms are intimidating, it's that the men inside the men's rooms are intimidating. I can go pee in an empty men's room. That's fine. It's when you watch a group of drunk guys go in that you think to yourself, how drunk are they and how obnoxious/violent/loud are they going to be? So now you have to worry about being able to pee standing up, with other guys in there (talk about pee jitters), and you also have to worry about what will be the reaction they'll have if your shirt is hanging the wrong way and you don't pass as a dude as well as you hoped you would.
It's scary to think that just the way your shirt hangs, or the design on it, can make or break you in the men's room. Out in public is different. People can stare all they want in public. Fuck 'em. Who cares? But the men's room, as I have confirmed in my travels what I knew to be true all along, is a sacred place. A place where a man can literally whip out his dick and piss next to a complete stranger without even batting an eye. A place where a man can be a man! And talk about the blow job he got last night, or that chick on the end of the bar definitely wants him (even though she's just looking for a free drink), or how he and a bunch of the guys are going off-roading next weekend with a 30 rack for each of them and man they are 'going to be sooo hammered'.... not a place for females.
Not a place for anyone but men. And when they catch you it can be humiliating, or awkward, and uncomfortable. And some men will just ignore you. They'll probably go and tell everyone they know about it, or maybe you'll walk out to a while bunch of people watching you and waiting for you to see what you look like and yep that's definitely a chick - but they won't call you out in the act.
However some men will harass you, like call you 'freak' or ask 'what the fuck are you doing in here?' and then when you go into the stall they'll turn the lights off and leave, so you wait for an extra two minutes to let your eyes adjust to keep from walking into the sink and then do it anyway....like a fucking idiot. Which is always fun.
So now, every time I go into a men's room and succeed, I'm proud. Even if it's at work, and no one else is in there for the entire time that I am, I'm proud of myself.
Pride seems to be coming to me more often than it used to.
And it's getting much easier to accept it.
It's about damn time.