because being emotionally compromised, or some shit, is really draining. Put 15 songs on Dmitri (my ipod), some from the Hunger Games soundtrack and others just from the radio. Been reading, thinking about tackling Mockingjay today/tonight.
Caffeine isn’t waking me up. I have to quit having nightmares, they wear me out. Last night was fire, cold, snake bites and sacrifice and a really ugly segment where I had to be someone else.
making an appointment with the counselor. She gave me the go ahead to only see her when I need her, and I have a check in appointment in a couple of weeks. But I’m going through a really rough time not knowing how to fix a situation that makes me upset. I don’t have anyone I can talk to about it who can help me work through it, not even the husband. I feel out of my depth. I’m going to try writing and see if I can chase down a solution, but if not, I might just have to go talk to the counselor and see if she has some ideas that will help me process and face the situation.
“I adore the way fan fiction writers engage with and critique source texts, but manipulating them and breaking their rules. Some of it is straight-up homage, but a lot of [fan fiction] is really aggressive towards the source text. One tends to think of it as written by total fanboys and fangirls as a kind of worshipful act, but a lot of times you’ll read these stories and it’ll be like ‘What if Star Trek had an openly gay character on the bridge?’ And of course the point is that they don’t, and they wouldn’t, because they don’t have the balls, or they are beholden to their advertisers, or whatever. There’s a powerful critique, almost punk-like anger, being expressed there—which I find fascinating and interesting and cool.”—Lev Grossman (via theadventuresofcargline)
Meds are awesome and I care about shit and that’s cool.
I love wearing clothes that make me feel…complete. Put together. Like I didn’t just roll out of bed and grab something. I had forgotten how much better it felt to be a put together person.
New hair color is close to my natural and I like it, a lot.
Class rocked my socks today, which is funny because I usually hate that class. I guess sitting away from people that annoy me was a good idea.
Still amused that the teacher thought I bought my paper, but glad she bumped my grade when I told her I didn’t. I still need to talk to her about the sections where she asks for a reference, and it was just my opinion/deductions. I never can remember how to include my own perceptions in papers.
I miss the dog. The cats are great, but it’s not the same.
We were discussing homosexuality because of an allusion to it in the book we were reading, and several boys made comments such as, “That’s disgusting.” We got into the debate and eventually a boy admitted that he was terrified/disgusted when he was once sharing a taxi and the other male passenger made a pass at him.
The lightbulb went off. “Oh,” I said. “I get it. See, you are afraid, because for the first time in your life you have found yourself a victim of unwanted sexual advances by someone who has the physical ability to use force against you.” The boy nodded and shuddered visibly.
“But,” I continued. “As a woman, you learn to live with that from the time you are fourteen, and it never stops. We live with that fear every day of our lives. Every man walking through the parking garage the same time you are is either just a harmless stranger or a potential rapist. Every time.”
The girls in the room nodded, agreeing. The boys seemed genuinely shocked.
“So think about that the next time you hit on a girl. Maybe, like you in the taxi, she doesn’t actually want you to.”