also why i refuse to have pets
“No more excitement for me. No more parties. No more boyfriends. No more husbands. I just want some peace. I want to sit on the beach with a martini. No, not a martini— a glass of wine. Because wine is what they drink in Spain, and I want to be in Spain. I want a house on the beach in Spain where my kids can visit during the summer. Well, not the whole summer. I want a house on the beach in Spain where my kids can visit for two weeks every summer.”
Also me. Except maybe not Spain, maybe Italy, or Greece, because food.
"I try to stay away from other people. I don’t like to have to be keeping up pretenses all the time— it’s exhausting. Being a loner forces me to be two-faced sometimes, though. I’m always having to make up little stories to get out of social situations. But I’d much rather be alone, watching films. I enjoy watching actors. They’re always pretending, just like me."
Netflix did me a major solid this morning and took me on a ride through the glorious world of drag.
I threw on “I am Divine” while I was sipping my morning tea and getting my work stuff set up, after which ‘flix suggested “Paris is Burning” which I have seen before and I LOVE (it’s about drag balls in NY in the 80’s, a must watch), and a documentary about the Miss Gay America Pageant after that…
the only penis envy I have is the envy over being able to tuck it back to pretend to be Peggy Lee
Gender theory hurts my brain.
I mean no offense by that. What I mean is that it is so loose and fast and subjective that it all blurs together, taking away definition of the words used.
Also, I am not entirely comfortable with how easily the “phobic” suffix is used in gender discussion. A lesbian’s disinterest in dating a trans woman is not a phobic behavior, it’s sexual and personal preference. The habitual physical and emotional violence aimed at trans womenfor being trans women is phobic behavior.
I had to pass through the mall on my way to work this morning, and I passed by the McDonalds briefly and had a flashback to being hungover on my way to work, picking up McD’s to stuff in my face before a shift.
I don’t know how I survived like that. I can’t eat McDonalds breakfast at all anymore, and I couldn’t imagine working hungover like I used to on a regular basis. I did that once or twice a week sometimes!
It made me feel heavy and thick just thinking about it.
Stopping the drinking itself was easy, but I thought I needed the booze, socially, as I am somewhat anxious and introverted in crowds with my much more extroverted crew. Yet, as I get used to it, I don’t feel it. I actually feel I’m better without it, more myself.
I cracked open a boston round at the lake (where excess is the norm) the other weekend but got bored of it by the end of the bottle and didn’t bother cracking another the entire weekend.
I’ve been thinking about popping onto a patio for a pint of lager or a Radler or something light in the sunshine for a date night, because summer, but the opportunity hasn’t come up and I’ve had no desire to push for it.
Yesterday I met up with a friend after work and instead of hitting a patio we picked up some water and san pellegrino and hung out in a shady quiet park and it was relaxing and fabulous.
That marks the first time I have been out in public with a friend without booze and also without anxiety in… Jeez… 2.5 years?
Sobriety feels sooooo good.