Jul. 28th, 2005

mousme: A view of a woman's legs from behind, wearing knee-high rainbow socks. The rest of the picture is black and white. (>_<)
So here I am at work, and my throat no longer hurts since I killed it with Tylenol, but I’ve got yet another ear infection. At least it’s in my bad ear, so I don’t have to worry about any more damage there. I was feeling reasonably okay when I left the house, and it got progressively worse as I got closer to work. Thus, I’m concluding that I’m allergic to this place.

Met t! on the way to the metro today. Or, rather, he sneaked up behind me while I was reading, and I only became aware of his presence when he slowed down to walk beside me. I pay only a minimal amount of attention to my surroundings when I read and walk: enough to know when things come up in my peripheral vision so that I don’t bump into people/lamp posts, or walk straight out into traffic when the light’s red.

We had a fun talk about books and music and something called the Gong Show, which made me want to bring a gong to work (t!’s suggestion for when the CAM gets out of hand with her bad jokes).

The CAM, I have discovered (not recently, but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it before), has the sense of humour of a ten-year-old boy who’s overdosed on sugar. This is the conversation (slightly abbreviated) that we had yesterday.

'Get it? Get it?' *wink wink nudge nudge* )
mousme: A view of a woman's legs from behind, wearing knee-high rainbow socks. The rest of the picture is black and white. (Garbage truck)
So my mother calls me at work to let me know how things stand with a dinner invitation to the home of a family friend. Quick backstory: we were originally invited for Wednesday, and I told them I'd be delighted to come. Thinking it would be "better" for me on Friday, they switched the days on me, and of course I could no longer attend, since I'm volunteering at the club on Friday and we're short-staffed as it is.

My mother coolly informs me that she told said friend that I wasn't coming because my office was moving and I was working late. "Because," says she, "I couldn't bring myself to tell them that you couldn't come just because you were volunteering at a club."

Gee. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mother.

Every now and then I get these nice little reminders that my mother is ashamed of me. Now she's ashamed to the point of lying to our friends about me. This is a first. Before it was simply lies of omission. Now she's going out of her way to say untruths so that they won't find out that I'm OMG t3h g4y! It's fine if she doesn't want them to know. But she might have at least told them a half-truth. Even saying "Oh, she can't come because she volunteers on Fridays." Or, "She already had plans that couldn't be altered, but she was very disappointed not to be able to see you."

But, no. She had to go hard-core liar on me.

She doesn't approve of the line-dancing, for many reasons. Foremost is of course that it's a gay club. She keeps asking me when I'm going to take "real" dancing lessons. Like, oh, walz or something. I think she's still harbouring some vague hope that by dancing these "real" dances I'll meet the right man that will convert me back to heterosexuality.

She still refuses to admit that I might date girls. In fact, whenever she uses a (hypothetical) example of dating concerning me, she'll invariably partner me up with a fictitious man. I gently correct her each time, but usually it just earns me a withering glare and a "Whatever. That's not the point I'm trying to make!"

No, Mother. It's the point I'm trying to make.

Maybe one day she'll realize I'm probably not going to change. Until then, she's going to do her damndest to shove me back into the closet as hard as she can. My mother is queen of that river in Egypt.
mousme: A view of a woman's legs from behind, wearing knee-high rainbow socks. The rest of the picture is black and white. (Tut-Kat-Amen)
So, there's a Thing in August, to get all of us writing again. Why wait for NaNoWriMo, after all? My friend and landlady [livejournal.com profile] ai731 has come up with something very nifty.

I hereby present:

Jan's August Writing Challenge:

Write something every day in the month of August.



Sounds tough! What do I have to do?

Write. Something. Anything. Any length. Prose or poetry. Every day. For a month. And share it.



Sounds cool! How do I sign up?

Join the [livejournal.com profile] august_writing community

Link to this post in your LJ

Post either your writing, or a link to your writing on your LJ/blog/website to the community every day in August, starting on Monday, August 1st



Sounds simple! Are there any other rules?

Nope. Well, not really. It has to be creative writing - prose or poetry, of any any length, on any subject. Stuff you would normally be writing anyway counts (so, for those who write serials, that counts) but stuff you write for your job doesn't. But it can be anything. Short fiction, short-short fiction, essays, character studies, stream-of-consciousness, writing exercises (I'll try to post a bunch of these over the next few days to give people ideas), etc. Anything at all, so long as it's a self-contained piece of writing that you did that day.

Gah!

Jul. 28th, 2005 05:58 pm
mousme: A view of a woman's legs from behind, wearing knee-high rainbow socks. The rest of the picture is black and white. (Fizzgig)
Stupid LJ is screwing up all my formatting when I'm at home, and for some reason I can't read anything that's behind a cut-tag. It just comes up blank.

*hates LJ*

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