Domina…not
Domina…notby V.E. on September 19th, 2007
filed under finances, sex work
Gunnerkrigg Court
by V.E. on September 15th, 2007
Gunnerkrigg Court: an interesting, odd, well-written online comic by Thomas Siddell. I encourage you all to check it out here. My favorite panel so far is here (after reading through to the end of chapter 12). That is all.
A job!
A job!by V.E. on September 15th, 2007
filed under sex work
An animal quiz with 128 possible outcomes
by V.E. on September 12th, 2007
filed under quizzes/surveys
The first time I took it, I got this:
You’re a Hyena!
You have quite a sense of humor, though many others find it derisive rather than appealing. You are perceived as being a coward, but actually have moments of great bravery and have even stood up to those much larger than yourself. You like hanging out in groups and are always making a lot of noise. Disney thinks you are an idiot. Take the Animal Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.
The second time, I got this:
You’re a Butterfly!
Fragile and beautiful, you work as a good-luck charm for those around you. People are always happy to see you and sometimes beseech you to reach out to them as a blessing for their day. Though you are proud of your reputation, you strive not to forget your own humble beginnings and remember that not so long ago, everyone looked down on you. All you can do is appreciate the metamorphosis you made now that you’re on its good side. You adore stained-glass windows. Take the Animal Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.
(Not) Drinking in NYC
by V.E. on September 9th, 2007
filed under health, personal, thoughts
I don’t drink. Most of you (probably all of you) know that. I’m not ashamed of it, but I don’t really shout it out to the world, either… ‘cept on this journal, of course. Like now. 
I discourage the people around me from drinking; I’m not one of those people “who doesn’t drink but doesn’t care if you do or not.” I care. I care about you. About me. About having to drag you home from the bar or party because you’re too smashed to walk straight. About having to clean up your puke… again. I care. I do not like wasting my time trying to keep a drunk friend awake because I’m scared if they fall asleep they’ll choke on their tongue–or their vomit–and die. Drinking, alcohol, what have you, has no appeal to me whatsoever. And, I don’t think my feelings are going to change any time soon.
I don’t do any drugs or smoke, and I don’t really ingest much caffeine, either. I don’t like being around someone who smokes (cigarettes, cigars, marijuana, whatever) because they’ll inevitably light up and all my clothes and things end up smelling yucky; it’s not fun trying to get marijuana smoke out of your hair–trust me. I don’t like hard drugs like cocaine because I’ve seen what they can do to someone (they’re not called “crack whores” for nothing, you know; watch Requiem for a Dream if you don’t believe me). I don’t have particularly strong feelings about “soft drugs” like marijuana (so long as I don’t have to wash my hair three times to get the smell out), but I always turn them down when offered to me and prefer that others didn’t use them while I’m around. Really, though, alcohol is the major turn off for me. The rest I can take or leave depending on my mood and whether I’m willing to deal with someone else’s issues for a while. But drinking? No.
Bennett gave me a(nother) lecture about my needing to “loosen up” last night over the phone. I said I was/am lonely and he responded with something like, “You really need to find some girls you can hang out with and drink cocktails.” Like Sex in the City, I assume.
He says I can’t (I think he meant I shouldn’t or it’s not fair to) dislike something I’ve never tried. It’s true: I’ve never tried alcohol/beer/wine/whatever, and I don’t plan to. He said having “two or three hard drinks” would do me some good and allow me to shrug off some of my more detrimental inhibitions for the duration. I told him that, no, I didn’t want to do that because [1] my “freedom” would only last as long my drunken state, and [2] I’d feel terrible about drinking (and maybe physically terrible because of it) after the fact, which would only compound the overarching problem (that is, my detrimental inhibitions). That situation is just asking for alcoholic behavior.
Bennett said I was oversimplifying–my response was: “So what?”–and said that he enjoys a few beers every now and then and isn’t any worse off for it. I’ve said that he’s the most responsible drinker I know, and that’s still true, but I know that he shouldn’t be drinking in his depressed condition. Alcohol is, after all, a depressant. But that’s for another post. Anyway, I would like to meet “some girls [I] can hang out with,” but I don’t want it to involve drinking–ever, if at all possible. So, of course, I’ve been searching for groups around here–or just people, even–who share some or all of my values; sobriety is an important one of them.
The first thing I discovered was/is the Straight Edge movement (a.k.a. xXx or sXe). After a little digging, I found Living on the Straight Edge, a blog about sXe life (and other stuff not worth linking to here). I was ecstatic; “Here’s a place I’ll fit in,” I thought to myself. But it’s not. I don’t really like punk music, and I’m pretty sexually liberal, the former of which is an integral part of sXe and the latter of which is not, at least so far as I can tell. Then, I found various Christian communities. Apparently, Christianity tends toward sobriety, even counting the Catholic wine-drinking during the Eucharist. But I’m not really into that, either. I mean, I believe in God, but I don’t ascribe to any one religion beyond that. Plus, I’m sexually liberal… and Christianity and sex don’t traditionally get along very well.
So where do I look next? I just want a few friends here in NYC to hang out with–preferably somewhere near my age–without having to worry about cleaning up alcohol vomit or going deaf at a punk rock concert or getting converted to something I don’t really believe. Am I the only person in this city who fits that description? Surely not. I hope.
I likey.
by V.E. on September 3rd, 2007
filed under beauty
Purty scarfy. I wanty.
Close up:
Why WHY do I always seem to do this to myself??
by V.E. on September 2nd, 2007
Okay, so I’m in graduate school, for those of you who don’t know… which is like no one, but anyway… I’m taking two online courses this semester (“Writing Poetry” and “Writing Creative Nonfiction”), and I’m terribly behind. It started out innocently enough (it always does, doesn’t it?): I didn’t have internet access, or even computer access, for about a week and a half while I moved to Queens NY from Lancaster PA and then from Queens to Brooklyn. Once I got my computer (a relatively old PC desktop) up and running in my new place, I was able to check the online course message boards to see what I’d missed.
I had actually asked for advance permission to the syllabuses (no information was available before I lost computer/internet access because the courses hadn’t yet begun) so that I could get a jump-start on the offline work so that, once I had access again, I could just post everything (and respond to other people) instead of starting completely from nothing. Unfortunately, my request was denied (or, at least, it went unheeded so long that it didn’t matter anymore).
So, being the optimist that I am, I jumped right into the work and got most of the first unit done before life got in the way (which, of course, always happens). I’m not talking about playing computer games or whatever; I’m talking about finding a job to pay the rent and school bills and so that I can eat and won’t have to worry about being kicked out, etc. etc. So I said to myself, “Well, I’m almost caught up [which, at that time, I was]; I can take a couple of days off to look for work.” Unfortunately for me, I’m now completely behind on the second unit (due later today and of which I’ve done nothing) AND I still have no job. So far I’ve been living off my credit cards… but after this month, I’ll have maxed out all of them, too, and will really be in trouble. It’s not like I’m splurging, either. I’ve been really good about NOT buying stuff I don’t need (an addiction I’ve been struggling with for a while now), and I apply to jobs ten at a time every other day.
To top it all off, I have very few friends here in New York. I love the city, but Bennett and Daylin–my only friends here to speak of–have their own lives, and being around Ben too long hurts as much as it helps. I discovered in college that when I’m alone for too long, I start to question my sanity and humanity and, if it gets really bad, my very existence. Last night I called Ben after midnight and asked him to come visit me (he did, bless his twisted soul, but it was an hour and a half travel time). When he arrived, I was wondering if I was/am even real. I mean, I know people would miss me if I just disappeared,* per se, but when I’m alone (that is, without physical human contact and meaningful interaction) for too long I start to think I’m just a figment of someone else’s imagination.
We talked (well, actually, he talked) about Planescape Torment, an apparently excellent computer game, for nearly two hours before I was feeling well enough to sleep and not worry about whether unconsciousness was actually non-existence. He slept with me, and it was good. I mean, we didn’t DO anything–I wouldn’t have let him even if he wanted to–but it was good to touch someone for longer than it takes to get by them while getting on (or off) a subway train. I need to touch people to know I’m alive… not sexually, just hugs or holding hands or braiding someone’s hair or whatever. Bennett knows that and loves me for it and allows my weirdness (plus, I’m a good person to sleep next to, according to him–twice in a row now).
Anyway, I’m totally and utterly fucked (excuse the language) if I don’t stop procrastinating and actually do my home/classwork. And I still need a job. Sheesh, this is frustrating. Why do I do this to myself? Why don’t I “get it” after all these years of school? Is this an OCD thing? Am I “just lazy,” as some people have said? Honestly, it feels more like paralysis than sloth. I need to see a therapist.
*And no, I’m not suicidal. Questioning existence is different from wanting to erase existence.
