So I'm way behind on my friends list and this is a flying post of attention whore, but I've just been accepted as a writer for The Gaytheists  , which is all very exciting and therefore you should read it. Here is my first post:
Us and Them
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If you reply with "words" I will give you 5 words that remind me of you. You then post the words in your LJ and explain what they mean to you.

My Five Words, Chosen by [info]vomitrocity

Headstrong
I've been making a lot of my own decisions since I-don't-know-when-the-fuck-ever. I decided my parents were parenting wrong when I was 4 or 5 years old. I decided religion was retarded when I was 12. I dumped what remained of the Christian morality at age 15, started fucking everyone who'd let me at 16, and left home at 19 after cutting off most of my family. Headstrong is probably a good one to be at the top of my list of words.
It doesn't always make things easy - I don't make friends easily at all and when I fall out with the friends I do have it tends to be messy and permanent. But I'm happier this way :D

Nudity
What nudity? Haha seriously there are no full nude pictures of me anywhere on the internet. Back when I was single I gave out a lot of fairly explicit pics to people on internet dating sites, but only topless shots. I've done full nude on webcam a few times but unless people took screenshots and distributed them, I'm pretty sure the internet is pretty Cleo-cunt free. If you look hard enough though, there's at least one topless photo out there.
The photos I show these days are the most revealling that my boyfriend is ok with me showing. Personally I'm at a stage where I'm confident enough to do full nude, and I have taken photos like that, but I have to keep them private. I enjoy the attention I get from my pics. My relationship with my body is weird - I won't lie, I have a huge crush on myself. 'Bout 50% of the time I think I'm super hot. I also really, really hate my looks. I want a lot of surgery and body mods, I always want to change my hair and my makeup and my clothing styles. Posting the near-nude pics helps with both. It gives me something hot to look at, when that's how I feel, and it gets me the compliments and validation I crave on my bad days.
Plus, it's a damn good way of finding out which of my friends are worthless prudes.

Goats
I've had a total of 4 (most 3 at a time), and currently have 2. I'm kind of fucked up over this right now as one of them died really recently. Pan died a couple of years ago when he was a baby (I've written about that before) and Loki died about a month ago. I didn't blog about it because I just don't really have anything to say. It wasn't really anyone's fault, I guess if I could time travel we could have maybe prevented it through getting him tested for stuff a year or two ago but there was no hint there was anything wrong and under the circumstances we did all we could. I just wish it hadn't happened while I was up here and couldn't be there with him.
Right now I have Dodo and Kiwi, the pygmies. They're doing great but they're gonna be living with my parents for a few years yet, as I can't afford a house with a garden until I'm older and higher income. 's just how it is, I always knew there'd probably be a patch of my parents having to take care of the goats. I miss them though. I miss all of them.

Childfree
I never liked kids, not even when I was one. I always got on way better with the older children. I hate teenagers even more, most of them are horrible, malicious, shallow people. I'll be very glad to no longer be one next year. I would also be a terrible parents because of my complete unhealthy obsession with looks over anything else. Imagine if I had a fat daughter, or a daughter with acne. Or worse - a son. There is no way in hell I would let him be a boy.
There's also the fact that I like my money. I don't have much right now but every fucking penny is mine. And, omg pregnancy. Nothing is scarier. I swear, if women didn't do it on a regular basis since the dawn of time it would be the kind of sick shit some horror movie director would have come up with and everyone would be disgusted and puking in the cinemas. I can't believe how chilled some people are about it.
There's probably like a gazillion more reasons. Is there any way I'd change my mind? I don't know, maybe a brain tumor? I hope that my friends and family are around to prevent me from getting knocked up if I ever get seriously mentally ill. Or that I've managed to get sterilized by then (yeah my parents aren't paying for it any more due to family drama - but I will probably get a loan and do it within the next year anyway).

Feminism
Most feminists piss me off. Or at least, most that I run into IRL. Online they mostly tend to be childfree feminists, which makes a good half of the difference, they're easier to relate to. A lot of modern feminism seems to be (or at least giving the impression of) all about the little things. Shit like using the word cunt (I like it, damn you) or spelling women with an interesting combination of letters. "Herstory" and bra burning and growing leg hair and slut-shaming and using it as a goddamn excuse to be an unwashed, ungroomed, unfit slob of a creature that should not count itself as either female or male. Perhaps this is the ultimate goal of the modern, middle aged, failed feminist. To create equality of woman by completely dehumanizing everybody.
My approach to feminism is that women should be proud of all that makes them women. So called feminists that want to desexualise women or who are against makeup and cosmetic enhancements make me rage. I am empowered by my sexuality and how I express it, it is a huge part of my identity as a woman that I am a sexual being. I think that all the ways women can choose to express themselves and create their gender identity should be celebrated.
Also, I'm pro-choice, which is a feminist issue in my view. The ability to choose whether or not to have children (and when, and with who, and under what cirucumstances) is a massive part of female empowerment. Any so called feminist who identifies as pro-life should DIAF.

(Friends only post for now, as I don't know if me and her are totally over being friends. But if we fall out proper I'll make this public. For people who are not British - our size 4 is your 0, our 6 is your 2, our 8 is your 4, etc)

Laurie seems to think skinny chicks are gross. Personally I think drowning in baby weight at the age of 20 is disgusting, but I usually keep that to myself. Today, I'm fucking done with it.

Laurie has been rubbing me up severely the wrong way for a while. We had a bit of a clash a while back due to her complete denial of teen & preteen sexuality - saying anyone who taught their child about masturbation was a pedophile, basically. And that buying your kid a vibrator = child abuse. She's nearly the same fucking age as me, and I haven't forgotten my first vibrating phone at 15, shampoo bottles at 12 or plastic toys at 5.

Then this week she posted a fucking stupid article about how women in the media have been getting skinnier (what?), the national size average is going down (which explains by the measurements for each clothes size is going UP) and refusing to acknowledge the difference between this and this. I called her out on this bullshit, and we had a stupid argument. Here's the best quote.

Scientists, who ACTUALLY KNOW what they are talking about, have many a time proved men prefer naturally curvy women. After studying what men were attracted by and making polls and surveys for them to take. And from and ancestral point of view being curvy is a sign of good fertility which has and will never fail to please men as that is what men were made to do, spread their seeds and reproduce. Only luciferian corporate companies who control everything have changed that UNNATURALLY to suit them, to divide people and disconnect us from the truth and what REALLY matters in life.

So:

1. Fat = fertile. Which is why I never got pregnant. And why doctors tell you to GAIN weight before you get pregnant. Wait, no, only in fantasy land.
2. Men like fertility. All the men, ever. And if they don't they're against what really matters in life.

In short, fuck you.

She also blathered a bit about anorexia and repulsive skeletons and blargh blargh blargh national size average. My full rant/response after the cut (because serious, I don't wanna rape your f-list).
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Due to huge family drama I am currently homeless. Well, that's the dramatic way of putting it. I'm staying at my boyfriend's house on an airbed living out of a suitcase, it could be much worse. If I was single right now I would be fucked as I'm not great at maintaining the kind of friendships where you get to move in with them for weeks at a time.

I have internet access and all, but right now my life is more focused on dealing with all this shit, so I'll be even less active than usual (haha). I may write up the details at some point but my parents have the link to this blog and will freak if I say anything they think is biased, and I'm not sure I can write an unbiased account of what happened. Certainly not yet, I'm pretty pissed/freaked.

The basics - huge fight which left me feeling unsafe to spend another night under their roof. I packed a suitcase in a stupid rush so I have a mix of essentials (toothbrush, makeup, sensible shoes) and completely useless shit (little black dress, sexy lingerie, Harley Quinn hat). My mother calmed down enough that we were able to discuss the rest of my stuff - she'll store it until my flat is ready. They're still willing to pay for that but my sterilization is off (however once i get a job I'll be looking into it again - it's a postponement not a cancelation). She drove me to the station. I didn't get to Newcastle until 1am and it cost me most of my money. I will find out on Monday if I'm still able to claim JSA, if they cut me off then I'm fucked, but at least I've got a roof over my head.

x

So, I painted some shoes. I also made an account on DeviantArt, finally.


Daisy Chains - Shoes Size 7 by ~Crafty-Bitch on deviantART


There will be a post about Pride soon, I promise. Pics are uploaded and resized, they're on my facebook if you know me there, and I'll do a write up in a couple of days.

For anyone who doesn't know, this is the bi pride flag:



This is my makeup & outfit for pride on Saturday. Please to be bearing in mind that this was a makeup run through, not the final look, so it's a little rough around the edges. There will be better pics after the weekend :D






I'm also taking my mini camcorder, so there will be videos! ARGH IT'S TOO EXCITING :D

Fuck waiting until tomorrow. I have to dredge this shit up now while it's still fresh. I came out as bisexual when I was 14 years old, and it was hard. It was painful and it was messy and it took too long for the dust to settle, and when it had everything had changed. This week I found myself revisiting the days by the closet door, one foot in and one foot out. A conversation with a co-worker, and another with the woman who takes care of our pets, and everything was shaken up again. I'm feeling a little queasy, and the ground isn't so steady, but I'm ok.

It is easy to settle down into a comfortable existence. I am surrounded by good, reasonable people who respect my lifestyle. Sometimes people have questions, and I answer them. If people can't respect me, I don't keep them around for long. The last five years have been easy, easier than I ever thought they could be. When someone tells me that they're in the closet, I always say come out. It's nice out here, I tell them. The weather's sunny and the people are fabulous.

Perhaps I should warn them - sometimes it rains, and when it does, it pours.

My hands are shaking, I'm sorry, I'm not sure I can do this. But I need you to understand that it terrifies me when people openly and honestly try to tear down the thin social constructs that trick us into thinking the worst is over, we're safe now. We're never safe and it is never over. Hate wears a new face these days, it's smartened up some and it's a little less ugly but it's only skin deep, and the intentions are the same.

I don't want to talk about what happened this week, it looks petty when I write it down, and next to what I've been through before, it is. I want to talk about five years ago. I want to talk about the fear.

I remember kissing Laurie on the steps, the taste of cigarettes in her mouth. We came out together, but for her it was just a phase. It wasn't long before I was alone in it, the big news, gossip of the day. And things got so ugly, they got so ugly so fast. I've been spat on, tripped and knocked down, hair stuck with chewing gum, my books defaced, my property stolen. I've been hit, I've been kicked, I've been threatened with a knife, with fire. I've been pushed down the stairs, I've been trapped in the centre of a mob of 30 and punched and kicked until I was sick. I've cried so hard I thought I would break.

I've gone to teachers who told me I was too young to know my feelings. I've been punished for talking about my orientation in front of younger students - students who spat on me and poured their drinks on me when they heard. I've sat in class while a girl unbuttoned her shirt in front of me. "Do you want to fuck me?" She asked. How do you respond to that. Her friends were waiting - if I'd said no, it would be an insult. If yes, it'd be a approach on a straight girl, stepping way out of line. I was looking at a fight for my safety either way. Her bra was red, it was a c-cup. She had a very dark tan and acne scarred skin. I hated her and I wanted her and I was so, so scared.

I didn't tell my parents for a year. It came out in an argument, all tears and rage and hate. I thought they'd reject me, but it was ok. I gradually started to stop being scared. I became more confident, and the bullying stopped. Not overnight, it's never that easy, but I stopped giving them a rise and I stopped being a victim and it faded away until it was almost gone. I never felt safe, I never lost that feeling of my heart in my mouth walking into school, but it became less crippling. But it is never really over, you never forget all the hurt. Things like that stay with you, and somewhere along the line you have to find out how to cope.

These days I cope by fighting back. I have facts, I have analogies, I have arguments and if it comes to it, I have emotional responses. Always controlled, I play for sympathy where I can get it. It sometimes works, with the elderly traditionalist crowd. No one wants to make the young dyke cry. But I'm never the victim. I'm never the fucking victim. I'll confront whatever you throw at me. That's not to say the fear is gone, because it's not, and I don't think it ever will be. But I can work through it, I can turn it into something positive and loud and angry. The only road to acceptance is through pride, and pride I have in spadefulls.

On Saturday I will be attending Northern Pride in Newcastle upon Tyne - and there will be hell to pay for any fucker who dares stand in my way.
 

My degus were just being the funniest of funny. One of the babies managed to climb up so that it was dangling upside down from the roof of the cage. Shilo ran up to it and squeaked a lot, then grabbed both it's back legs in her paws and hauled it down, shouted at it a bit more and then went back to bed.

They are just like tiny, fluffy, squeaky people :D

I bring more pics. Apologies for the censor bars - if I had my way they wouldn't be there, but that's monogamy for you :P
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First, a bit of news. During the night we have acquired two more baby degus. I don't know if Shilo was pregnant as well and those are hers, or if Amber just had a couple more still to have. Either way, we're now up to eight babies! Let's see if it stops there.

Also, I have finally got a job interview. I haven't been interviewed for a job since JANUARY so this is pretty good news for me. Not only that but it's actually on a day when I was going to be in Newcastle anyway (this Friday) so no going out of my way and spending heaps of ££.

Anyway, I know you're just here for the cute:

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And now videos (lets see if I can get this embed shit to work:

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