The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

I got in the breastforms I ordered.

Now, when I was initially doing research for these, I got so depressed and angry. I even wrote this post. I just knew they were going to make me feel like a freak, like a fake, and generally make me feel worse. Still, I ordered them, so I’d have the option if I needed it. Then they came in, and I put them on.

Fuck, was I wrong.

I could look at myself in the mirror. I can never look in the mirror. My body looked right for once. It was real close. I was still a bit of a mess, because I just kind of am in general, but I looked like me. I looked like me.

They basically made me feel so good that, the next morning, as I was waiting about the house and wearing them, I didn’t want to take them off. But I was going out, so I should, right? I mean, surely I should.

It was then I remembered Avandra. She always says that “Fortune favors the bold.” She’s right. If I don’t go for it, I’ll never get it.

So, you know, I left wearing them, did all my stuff, came home. Later, I went to work wearing them. Fuck it, why not, right? Fortune favors the bold. Today, everyone invited me out to lunch, and while I gave them all warning, I wore them. Fuck it. I went shopping, I filled my prescription, I was wearing them.

I’m still getting sir’d instead of ma’am’d, but I’m wearing really androgynous clothing, so I’m not too surprised. More important, though, I don’t feel like a freak walking around. I feel like me.

Today, I finally filled my prescription. I’m on hormones. Things are happening. Things are getting better. I am more me than I ever have been, and fuck, it feels good. I am gentle, but bold, as my current title on Talking Time says. I am making shit happen. Hi world, I’m Alexis Long, and I am here.

I’m here.

Today was kind of okay, and then I had a shitty session, and then I just got so fucking frustrated that I made phone calls I regret and threw Frisbees for like an hour and a half alone out of anger, and then I came home and didn’t do my homework… yeah.

Moody Bullshit.

But hey, just look at all these tabs I have open. So many tabs! Enjoy some tabs. Of videos.

This is a pretty crazy good card trick, I must admit, even if the audio is fucked up in this recording.
Yes, this video has ponies, but I just found the song humorous. I might be easy to entertain.
What’s cooler than a dog? Dog on a skateboard. Skateboarding dog.
You’ve probably seen it by now, but if you haven’t? Meet the Medic. Yep.
Because I am such a goodie-two-shoes, I enjoyed this video of FemShep, the only true Shepard, being a bitch.
Solve the mystery. Let a play.

Bye!

I’ve got eggs in a basket.

I feel like, in a lot of ways, I am being pulled two ways. On one hand, I should be prepared. I should move forward and continue my life in a smart, intelligent manner. A lot of that should involve casting a wide net. Reaching out. Making sure things fall into place appropriately. I should be searching to find my own way, you know? Self-reliance, all that shit.

I don’t really want that, though.

Most of what I want involves other people, and involves other people falling into place and following along with the plan. Mostly Brer, yes, but many other friends and family too. Places of employment. All that shit. All of it needs to fall into place and occur. This is what I want.

Recently, I’ve had so much shit happen because of depending on other people. Assuming other people will do simple shit like picking up letters when they are sent them, and so on, and so forth. There’s a terror I have learned in waiting for someone to do something so important to you. The month (oh fucking gods, it was a month) of waiting for Dr. Friedman to write less than a page of text was terrifying. There was nothing I could do to speed the process up. I was powerless. My life was in her hands. It sucked.

But okay, so, I’ve always been a trusting individual, you know? I look for the best in people, because people deserve the best from me. People are awesome, and deserve respect. Unless it’s clear they don’t want my respect, I give it. I trust. But as I get older, the stuff being risked keeps increasing in scope, and I keep having to trust “professionals” to get my shit done. Sometimes this works out, and sometimes it does not. It’s slowly becoming more and more terrifying, to be sure.

In any case, I guess the point I’m trying to make is that I’m banking my future on trusting people. I’m setting myself up for potential failure where, if I just pulled myself inside myself and bunkered down, I wouldn’t have to risk anything. I’m sure I could spin a life together that mitigated risk quite completely. But that’s not what I want. I want family, and romance, and the life I want. That life involves people.

Maybe I’m too nice. Maybe you have to fight for what you want and make people bleed in order to be happy. Maybe you have to rip and tear. Maybe being polite and friendly and dependable and professional aren’t the ways to get what you want out of life. Maybe it needs something else. Mistakes get made unless you accept no mistakes, right? Something like that?

Something like that.

I am doing a really bad job at saying I’m worried that I’m getting too attached to my get this bit of employment, get Brer here in December, move out and turn my life into the life I want plan. But I don’t know how to work towards that plan without getting attached to it. I don’t know how to move the plan forward without investing in it. If I didn’t invest in it, why would I be doing it? You know?

This is probably the kind of thoughts people have every day, don’t they? I am probably so boring. I want to be boring. I want the house and the dominant husband and the pet submissive wife and some pets and some video games and a job I can go to every day and come home and have that be enough.
So much of that is people, though.
Gotta depend on people.

Here’s my mood right now. In, you know, a progressive mixtape of songs linked on youtube. If you listen through it all, let me know. That’s cool of you. If not, well, no worries. Hopefully my mood will not be shit tomorrow, and I’ll write something.

Alternia from Homestuck’s AlterniaBound soundtrack

Hopeless Bleak Despair by They Might Be Giants

Failure by My Robot Friend

Un Dia by Juana Molina

Want It All Back from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack

Grace and Glory from the Jet Set Radio soundtrack

Advice [FLCL Arrange Version] by The Pillows

Skies of Skaia from Homestuck Vol. 1

Three Minutes Clapping from The World Ends With You

Up to the Roof by Blue Man Group

It’s Getting Better (Man!!) by Oasis

When Life Gives Me Lemons I Make Lemonade by The Boy Least Likely To

Fear (Rez Version) by Adam Freeland

Killed by BR8K Spider!!!!!!!! from Homestuck’s AlterniaBound soundtrack

(I wrote this while I was really raging. Really angry and depressed. I left a bunch of really angry tweets and stuff in my wake. I’m still angry about it, to some extent, but have mostly chilled. Still, here it is, uncensored. I can’t bring myself to write something more entertaining and I’m just… yeah. Seriously, though, thanks to everyone who extended support on twitter and otherwise about this bullshit. It’s more than I deserve, really.)

Today I was supposed to start hormones!

Man, did that get fucked up!

I call to make sure they’ve received the letter to let me do this stuff today, just to be thorough. Turns out, no, they have no idea where it is. Nobody has it. It’s gone. I can’t have the appointment if I don’t have the letter. There’s a slim chance I could get a copy of the letter from Dr. Friedman before the appointment, but it’s very unlikely, as the appointment is before she’s actually up. I don’t have a copy myself. They lost the one I got in the mail. I had to cancel because otherwise they would charge me for the appointment anyway. Soonest I could get in again was next week.

Another week! Another week gone. Another 7 days of my life where I don’t get to be myself. Another 168 hours of not having what I’ve been wanting and working towards my whole lifetime. Just another fucking disappointment. Another fucking delay.

Seriously, at what point do you just give up? When have you been fucked around and jerked around enough? When do you just give up on life when life won’t give you a fucking break? I mean, what’s going to happen next week? Car break down? They lose the letter AGAIN? Won’t accept the copy I bring them? When does it end?

It doesn’t end. It never ends. Being yourself is a failing prospect in the world. Depending on another person for anything as simple as taking a fucking letter out of the mail is impossible, as it will never amount to anything. No amount of effort on creating yourself will ever be worth anything. No amount of hopes and dreams will ever come true. This is a world where you aren’t free to decide any fucking thing about what you do, where you go, or who you are, and if you dare to deviate, dare to hope that, at some point, life might work out and be something positive, well, you are fucking wrong.

Years ago now, I pulled myself out of depression. I pulled myself up, and I decided that I could do this. I could make things better in my life. I could be myself. I tried. I tried to do everything the way I was supposed to. I was patient. I was nice. I didn’t push anyone.

When do you let yourself be pushed around enough for being nice? When do you say that enough is enough, and bullshit is bullshit, and fuck you and how you’re keeping me down? When does that happen? When the fuck does that happen? At what point is “Well, it’s not that big a setback” no longer acceptable? At what point is “In the big scheme of things, this is nothing,” no longer alright?

I am telling you, that point is right now. It’s no longer alright. It’s no longer fucking alright. Everyone holding my life hostage can fuck off, get their shit together, or enjoy my fist slamming into their face.
Fuck.
I give up.

I made a sticky note on my desktop that says “List of Blog Post Ideas” that I keep adding to, but every time I sit down to write something I never want to write about anything on that list.
So let’s not.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Homestuck lately. I still read it, and I still enjoy it, but it’s really kind of lost me as being extremely dedicated to it. I no longer debate what’s going to happen, what the meaning of this or that is, and so on. It just doesn’t do that for me anymore. I wrote a forum post about why that is here, I suppose. Still, if nothing else, I still really love many of the musical albums. I still listen to The Felt fairly often, and newer tracks like this one, or this one, or this one are really fantastic. (Okay, maybe not the last one.)

While I have still not played a single game, my brain continues to make me drawn to Furoticon, the furry porn card game, just because, seriously, what the fuck? They’re coming out with a new set, Second Vanilla, but I’m really frustrated they aren’t making new preconstructs, because the new art looks super-pretty and they’re doing these in-character blog posts for characters on the new cards and I want to check it out! But I’m not buying individual boosters and being all luck of the draw with it. That’s really kind of silly for a game I’m not actually going to play. Still, I’m still just amazed that not only is the game still going, but they’re managing to get some pretty awesome and famous in the fandom artists on board for card art.
Eh, who am I kidding? I’ll probably go weak at some point and order some boosters.

So the Youtube App on my iPad has gone to shit, and I really don’t know why. It can no longer play a simple Youtube video. It keeps stopping in the middle, and every time it does, it loses what buffer it had. Stops constantly. Like every minute. I really want to just watch stupid let’s plays in bed, but it won’t. I mean, it plays Giant Bomb quicklooks just fine. Why it can’t play a Youtube video in an app specifically designed to play a Youtube video is beyond me, and really frustrating. You didn’t used to be so stupid! Get better so I can watch my stupid Let’s Plays!

Really, though, a lot of my time has been spent being worried as fuck about my trip to visit Brer. I’m getting all wrapped up and nervous about making a decent impression. I worry about what his parents will think about me. I worry about interacting with his sister. I worry about being a horrible-looking motherfucker and if that will fuck our long, loving relationship up. I just worry about it. It’s a lot of worry. It’s my current biggest worry.

What else has happened to me? Well, I took a test to graduate. I bought a ton of clothes. I freaked out and was depressed. I finally got my letter and scheduled my fucking appointment for Hormones, so that’s happening Wednesday. I did some homework. I played a ton of Pocket Frogs, but I’ve already talked about that. It’s just my life, I suppose. It continues.
It keeps going, whether I want it to or not. Whether I feel like shit, or mostly okay.
It keeps on going. Hopefully for the better.

Today I take a big important test to graduate. This is semi-important, and as I write this, I am trying very hard to reread a book so I can be prepared or something like it for the test. I’m trying! Seriously.

Anyway, I’m not going to write a serious blog post, but here are some things to look at so you’re not bored.

I found this funny. I did not find it die. I dunno.

This episode of Game Center CX was pretty fucking fantastic, so you could always watch that.

I’ve also been having fun watching Little Kuribo play through the trainwreck that is Duke Nukem Forever here. You could try that too.

Anyway, back to studying I suppose! Yay…

I’ve been trying to figure out clothes. One thinks “Oh, clothes are easy, you just wear fabric to cover up your naughty bits” but it is so much more stupid and complex than that. Especially in my hands, where I’m trying to master clothes of a type I am not familiar with while I deal with lots of conflicting urges. I need to look more feminine, but I also want to just be myself, and I’m a kind of masculine lady-person. I’d rather just wear the shit I have been wearing, but it would be useful to make a clear “shift” to help shift everyone’s perceptions. So I’m trying to find a middle ground, which is really the worst thing I could do. I’m not settling for looking alright. I have to be happy with it, and I have a fucking odd sense of fashion. It probably doesn’t look like it, but I’m really kind of super-picky when it comes to clothing. There’s also a partial problem that a lot of things I want to wear are things from my youth I was jealous about and wanted, and now I can have, but they simply don’t exist anymore. That is also frustrating. Things are frustrating!

Anyway, the point of that last paragraph is that I am stupid, clothing-wise. As I do my research and try to figure this shit out, I have two stupid rants that I would like to address to designers of women’s clothing in general. So if you meet any, make them read this blog post or something.

1. Have Real Pockets, You Assholes.
I look at clothing for women, even things that should have pockets, like pants, and they don’t have pockets. Sure, many of them have “pockets,” but they can only fit, I dunno, a tissue or a single dollar bill in them. They don’t count as pockets. They are stupid and useless. Who thought this was a good idea? I mean, it’s one thing to buy a garment without a pocket. That’s cool, you want to look a certain way, I get it. But to pretend to have a pocket, but not have that functionality is just stupid.
Now, I have heard the argument, “That is why you have a purse!” This is a semi-valid point, but there is one thing that I will never keep in my purse, and that is my cellular telephone. My cell phone is an object I need constant, quick access to, or the cell phone because significantly, significantly less useful. My mom never answers her phone. Know why? Because it’s in her purse, and she can’t get to it. I’m not going to be that person. Another person I am not going to be is someone whose phone actually makes noise. Fuck those people. Phones should always be on vibrate, and I can’t do that unless the phone is in my pocket.
Similarly, I listen to my iPod, oh, basically all the time. Having my iPod in my purse with the headphones coming out of it seems similarly frustrating from a usability standpoint. It also seems like it would look incredibly stupid.
At the very least, a bottom-half garment needs pockets that can at least hold a cell phone or iPod of a decent size. That’s just how the world works nowadays. My current research has discovered that pants with the keyword “comfortable” on the tag have decent pockets, so I am looking into that. Still, it’s just ridiculous that it’s hard to find a garment that serves such a simple function well. I’m not about to say that fashion shouldn’t be about fashion. That’s just fine. People who aren’t me can dress up as awesome as they’d like, and if they enjoy themselves, I am all for it. Me, I just want to be able to answer texts on my phone and listen to my iPod on a day to day basis, for fuck’s sake. The majority of stuff out there doesn’t seem to want me to do that, though.

2. Why Can’t Clothing Go All The Way Down?
Another thing I’ve noticed is that clothing for women cuts off far above the ankle. You can’t get a skirt that goes all the way down, and seriously something like 90% of the clothing in Kohl’s at the moment is a capri of some sort. I just don’t understand this. That just seems like it would bother the shit out of me. I’m not getting the benefits of wearing a full pair of pants or whatever, or shorts, which I don’t want to wear. Of course, the unavailability of shorts that aren’t essentially underwear is a completely different problem, and honestly, likely a reason why capris are so popular. But why not just make shorts that aren’t stupidly short? That’s a way better and less ridiculous solution.
While I will fight to the death about the fact that people, not just men, need actual pockets, this is something that is clearly a personal preference of mine. I mean, I think anyone who wears those socks that only go up below your ankles is insane, because that would drive me mad, but people really like those, so, you know. But still, there’s really a lack of other options.

I’m sure I’ll get super frustrated more in the future as I move on into this scary new world I am scarily moving into. But hey, at least I have a blog today, hm?

Those tabs on Chrome are seeming PRETTY SMALL! I best empty them out.

Hey, look, here’s some more Pony Gifs! I don’t have a problem, I swear.

Also, I beat Brer in Frozen Synapse, which means I am the total best. On this one match.

And then, dogs. Video game dogs.

It is also E3 going around, so here’s a quick recap of the Nintendo press conference, if you need it.

Frog fighting? Um, sure. I can watch that.

These views of the destroyed Six Flags New Orleans is made extra-creepy by the fact I see so many similarities to the local Six Flags.

Also, PAC-RAINBOW, MOTHERFUCKER.

Finally, this is a hilarious skit. So watch that.

So many fewer tabs! My browsers are safe for another day. Now, onward! ONWARD!

The Point of Sale. The mystical retail location where people purchase things for money.

I was in command of this point.

While certainly not the most fun job in the world (and really, what is, in the world of retail) I really don’t understand what the big deal is. People HATE working Point of Sale. Like, they feel like they’d rather do anything but Point of Sale. I just don’t get it.

Basically, work is a shitty place to be when there is nothing to do, as far as I’m concerned. That’s when time goes super-slowly, and the day drags on and on in a frustrating manner. While there is a bigger risk of such things happening at Point of Sale, because when nothing is going on, you’re not allowed to move about the store and find something interesting to do, for the most part, it’s not an issue. There are small breaks, yes, but especially when you are by yourself on one side of the store, there is a constant string of people checking out. You’re always busy doing something.

I suppose what I could see people disliking is how you really do have to keep your mind on other things to survive. I can do this, it’s not hard, but it’s not like working the floor where your mind is constantly having to scan locations to figure out where this short goes, or that box. You get occupied, because you likely have a series of quests to engage in, if you’re actually working. At Point of Sale, there is a very specific script you are running through, a lot of it being hard-sell tactics for the credit card, and you can literally do that shit in your sleep if you’re not all gung-ho about making your credit goals. Which, I mean, I dunno who would be. I push it when I can, but I just feel like the sort of stuff I’m supposed to do would keep people from wanting to shop at the store. It sure as fuck would keep me away. So I don’t if people don’t seem like they’d listen. Maybe that keeps me from feeling sleazy doing the job. Maybe that’s another reason why people stay away.

I don’t know. All I know is, I need hours, and I don’t mind this shit in the least. Going to do it some more today, in fact. A job is a job, and I am glad to do the job, you know? Hopefully I’ll be involved in a job permanently that leaves me feeling fulfilled instead of tired when I go home at night, but for now, I’m happy to be behind that register, keeping myself from going broke.