lighterthanair: (huggle)
I caved. I started watching Glee again. Made it through the first season and everything. I still mostly watch it for he musical talent, because some of the songs they do give me the shivers, but I'm still not overly fond of the, "Our stereotypes are somehow less offensive than your stereotypes" attitude the writers seem to have. I can handwave a little bit of the offense in dialogue by reminding myself that these are high school kids, and teenagers can be insensitive little pricks sometimes, but that's only a little bit of handwaving. Other things, not so much.

It seems to get a little better in the second season. I've only watched a few episodes of it as of now, and maybe I'm just getting numb to it, but maybe not. Maybe it actually did improve.

Of course, I still think Sue would have lost her job about 10 minutes after she walked through the front door, and it makes my blood boil to even look at her sometimes, with her abusive commentary and behaviour...

Anyway, on happier notes that don't involve strange reflections on my own childhood, my mother evidentaly decided that sending my a large box filled with English snack food isn't enough of a Christmas present, because she called today to inform me that she wants to get me a magazine subscription for Christmas too. After some discussion, we agreed on a subscription to Piecework, which I never find in stores here and is a pain to get my hands on. So now I'll have a magazine coming to me every 2 months for the next 2 years, filled with historical needlework.

The craftgeek in me is very very happy about this.

Starting my second selection of pills today. I'm done with the cyclokapron for now, and I only hope that the desogestrel will keep symptoms from piling up over time so that I don't need as much cyclokapron again in a month. Keeping my fingers crossed. The downside is that I was just starting to adjust to the symptoms of the first pills, and now I get to stop them and take another set of pills I have to adjust to, and then when I stop those I might have to readjust to the cyclokapron all over again. Ugh. But to be honest, the nausea and pain are certainly more tolerable than nausea, pain, and massive bleeding, so I'll stay on these things as long as I need to. If it turns out that these pills manage all my symptoms, then I'm pretty happy to stay on them for the rest of my life if need be.

Even if they do up my risk of strokes and heart attacks.

Definitely in a video game mood today, but I'm not sure what I want to play. Kind of in the mood for something epic and long-lasting. I'm thinking perhaps I might dig out my copy of FFV for the DS and start up a game in that. It's been so long since I've played it that restarting will feel kind of nice. And it's a great game for power-leveling, with the job system it has. Plus it's one of my favourite Final Fantasy games of all time, so it deserves another good playthrough.

It's been a while since I've had a good geek-out. Nerdygeek, not musicgeek or craftgeek or bookgeek. A much more conventional definition of geek.

Though it seems I'm many flavours of geek. Like a geeky neopolitan ice cream.
lighterthanair: (for your entertainment)
Those who know me and know me well know that I'm not exactly a woman (in spite of some biological evidence to the contrary. And those who know me extra well know that I'm not exactly the kind of person to wear makeup. In fact, for a long I've hated the stuff. Symbol of the femininity that I don't have and that everyone expects me to have. Expects in the way that's so stuck in this society that it's actually more noteworthy if I don't sport extra colours on my face. Adding those colours doesn't make me stand out; it just makes me fit in.

And I had no interest in fitting in. Fitting it meant one more step toward people who I had little in common with, shows like Jersey Shore and other reality TV, about clothes I didn't care about and hot actors and music that gave me a headache.

Then something changed. For the past little while, I've been wearing those colours I used to dispise. I've found a nice combo of purple with silver glitter that I really like the look of, when I'm not going with something darker like midnight blue and black on my eyelids. My nails are painted, black like I haven't had them in years.

Why? Because of this guy:



A combination of, "Here, listen to this song," and someone turning the radio on at work introduced me to Adam Lambert's music, and I have to say, I was hooked. Normally not my style, but good god, that guy's voice was enough to hook anyone! So I started finding more of his music, looking into more about him, and, among other things, falling for his style and expression.

And that was when I started to wonder about makeup. Not as a way of fitting in, but as a way of standing out. Expressing who I was, using colour to make my own image and to show the world what I actually am and how I actually feel.

Yesterday, I was in a lot of pain again. Unprepared for it. That overgrown mass of cells and overblown collection of symptoms took its toll, and I wasn't exactly in a position where I could get comfortable and just wait for it to pass. I was stuck at work, couldn't leave, and just had to push through it.

And every time I looked in the mirror in the bathroom there, I saw the colour and glitter on my eyelids, and I felt stronger.

Here's how I looked at it. Not only did Adam Lambert inspire me to take a few risks in regard to my look, but he's also more than a little responsible for inspiring me to actually do something with the music that's been living inside me for years with no outlet. I want to sing. I want to let other people hear me sing. I want to take a stab at actually singing in public, locally, maybe trying out for Saint John Idol if it actually comes around again. This guy gave me no small dose of courage and determination to do something I've wanted to do for ages but been too shy to try.

So I looked at the glitter, that shine in the light, and I thought of that. I thought that this guy can do things that I want to be able to do, and he's got the strength to be able to do it, and dammit, I'm not going to let pain get in the way of me living my dreams. Or at least pushing for them, even if I don't make it, and I can at least say that I tried.

That's what I see when I look at the glitter. The strength to get past all this and to get where I want to be. The bravery to look past what other people are looking at and to express myself, however that expression comes about. Knowing that the pain will pass, and once it passes, I'm going to sing again!

All thanks to one guy who doesn't know who I am.

I don't say that bitterly. I think if he knew who I was, I'd be intimidated as all fuck, and no amount of glitter would change that! XD
lighterthanair: Dracula, from Hotel Transylvania (grumpy)
Cut for talking of female bodily functions, because I know some people don't want to read that. )I guess this applies to anyone who's going through a major health change: nobody tells you how your life will really be affected. They'll tell you symptoms in a clinical manner, they'll tell you the rules you have to follow, they'll tell you that they feel sorry for you. But they don't tell you how it'll all really affect you, practically, on a day-to-day level.

They'll leave you to flounder through and hope you don't drown before the end.

September 2015

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