dumblemop: (love)
because it's beautiful and I'm going to cry and I wish I could write like this:

(Floating Poem, Unnumbered)
Adrienne Rich

Whatever happens with us, your body
will haunt mine -- tender, delicate
your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond
of the fiddlehead fern in forests
just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs
between which my whole face has come and come --
the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there --
the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth --
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I have been waiting years for you
in my rose-wet cave -- whatever happens, this is.
dumblemop: (distress)
I know silence does
not make it better but I
don't know what to say
dumblemop: (poxed)
Short hair again does feel weird. Because I hadn't gotten it cut since maybe...Winter break? Yeah, 'cause I only get it cut when I'm home and I wasn't home at spring break long enough to do it then. The great thing is that so far the back seems to not be puffing up like it did when I cut the mullet off (oh yeah, I guess I had cut it a little)--hopefully that won't change when I wash it again--and it doesn't flip out anymore. I'd gotten used to it longer though, so it's weird to have it short. The right side is shorter than the left side, but I like the left side better so I don't want to "fix" it.

I look like I did in fourth grade, Between my class picture and Switzerland. There's a picture of me sitting on a blanket in our front yard, glaring at the camera--it's a little like that. I usually don't notice that I resemble myself as a kid, but I really do right now. I don't look particularly masculine at the moment--more boyish, since I'm reminding myself of young me. My hair grows fast. I'll probably cut it again at least once during camp.

I totally just realized that Franka Potente is both Lola and Marie. Wow. I totally missed that one.

Anyway, going to go errand with my dad. And then...laundry? Who knows.

This is beautiful.
dumblemop: (piggyback)
Liz sent me a link to some song lyrics just now, and I just noticed that the title of the page is in the font "Dauphin."

I used to write exclusively in Dauphin. I just had a little middle school nostalgia moment and thought I'd share.

Too bad I deleted all of that because ""robin"" wrote it.


We were listening to Dar Williams in the car near the end of the trip and the second song on the CD is "I'll Miss You til I Meet You." I used to listen to that song every night after she stopped talking to me. I turned it into a sort of prayer that she would find the men she was looking for and forget about me. Then I stopped listening to it for a long time. It was a little bit of a shock to hear it again. The song is exactly how she used to talk about Allen. She's been there for a year; I wonder if anyone's shown up yet.

My dad played me "(Men Succeed Where Women Are) Sluts" (by Jeanne Marie Spicuzza I discover with Google) today while we were packing up. My dad surprises me sometimes. It's a great piece. I need to find more slam people.

I also need a new computer. My computer is trash and I am sick of packing, unpacking, and transporting the damn thing every year. My whole family's going Mac. At the end of winter break, I was going to get a Powerbook, a very large monitor, and a tablet. I didn't. Now my brother has a Macbook, which I haven't really looked at. It's better, but it's more expensive, so if I got the Macbook I would probably not get the monitor. I need to decide whether it's worth it and just get something already.

The house is in shambles. It doesn't really aussage my feeling of unreality. I'll need to get up relatively early (not so early in terms of school, wayyy early in terms of home) because there will be people painting the upstairs hallway and they'll need to paint the jamb of my door, and I'm not quite the exhibitionist that I really need random painters coming in on me naked. Although I didn't really have any problems when Lauren and Julie and then Chris were looking at those pictures. I'm not even sure what pictures those are...that might have had something to do with it.

I mean, hey. I'd never seen Julie before in my life, will probably never see her again, I definitely won't see Lauren again anytime soon, and Chris would probably have seen me naked eventually.

I think if Friday night hadn't gotten all unhappy there I might have had something to drink then. I was definitely toying with the idea. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed.

Shadow's asleep under the desk next to me. My poor baby.

It's funny, I'll write to no end if there's no one forcing me to do it. She used to be horribly disappointed and angry if I didn't write when I wasn't here to talk to her, but she would usually get horribly disappointed and angry with what I wrote anyway. I think it was her way of making sure that I wasn't having fun without her even by accident more than anything. I look back on some of the things I wrote and I can hardly see me in those pages. She twisted me into the scared little girl she despised.

Well...screw you.

I don't know. I guess I identify with Stephen a little bit. Kindred spirits, in a sense. Stephen's fallen in love with a straight girl, who also happens to be a bitch, but Stephen loves her just the same and won't give her any blame for this fucked-up relationship. Yeah.

Although I kind of resent the way Stephen is always being characterized, as some "queer" "creature" that isn't quite right, somehow "grotesque" even in her beauty, but somehow beautiful even in her not-right-ness, like the ugly puppy that captures your heart. And characterized this way by the author, not just in the point of view of the "normal" characters that surround her. It bothers me intensely sometimes, but I'm not really sure why.

I wish I would write things down with more consistency. I thought of some nice phrases in the car and maybe even had bits of a poem-song going but I didn't write them down and I've probably lost them.

Still can't get you out of my head--not that I'm really trying--and I miss you.

I believe I'm rambling. I should probably desist. I'm sure I'll just start another entry later.
dumblemop: (Default)
rob is on the porch
rob is a sexy bitch
rob is a fortunate wheelsmith
rob is to discover what happened to the crew of a deserted spaceship
rob is 5'9" rob's shoe size is
rob is a really nice guy to do this
rob is the ice cube of the midwest
rob is rust
rob is not
rob is hot
rob is god
rob is going down
rob is the lead guitarist in the band
rob is gonna be on david letterman
rob is a fucking idiot with a welt on his hand
rob is dutch and lives in the netherlands
rob is in its final days
rob is done like dinner posted on friday
rob is on the crest of a wave
rob is hooked on kites
rob is lost nightrider
rob is the standard bearer
rob is the creator
rob is an active composer and has written for clarinet and piano
rob is moe
rob is tha shit yo
rob is skilled at tactfully getting your guests to relax and join in the fun
rob is very persuasive with a high level of enthusiasm
rob is truly the ultimate 'american champion'
rob is a fort lauderdale native who has been in real estate locally since he was 21
rob is a professional and he certainly does not need any advice from a bone
rob is a small robot which sits on your desktop or floor
rob is mass cool
rob is not a mailbox?

Try it. Go to Googlism.com, put in your name or an object, see what comes up, and arrange it.
dumblemop: (ansuz)
A bell still rings when
you sign in. I say nothing
and stare at the screen.

Pants are loose today.
Cannot find a fucking belt.
Will just have to deal.

Another cow died
today. Buried her out back.
Sang taps. Moo moo moo...

Stomach tried to kill
me. Poisoned? I defended
myself with string cheese.

I wish I were an
Oscar Mayer wiener. That
is my true desire.

A flock of tiny
multicolored cranes sits on
my desk: a rescue.

My brother thinks I'm
awesome. Can't imagine why.
It's still kind of neat.

I spell my name for
confused Europeans. They
get it. Here, not much.

I could probably keep writing these little things forever, but I'm sure they'd get pretty tiresome after awhile.

I've only eaten Pringles today but I don't really feel like eating anything else.
dumblemop: (grip)


I am

active, activist, admirer, adorant, adult, agender, ally, ambigender, ambiguous, ambisexual, amorous, andro, androgyne, androgynous, androphiliac, anomalous, babe, beautiful, bicurious, bigender, biogirl, birl, bisensual, bisexual, bitch, boi, both, bottom, bouncy, brother, butch-ish, complex, confused, creature, crossdresser, cuddly, curious, cute, different, differently-gendered, dork, doublecrossdresser, dreamer, dude, eclectic, either, everything, FTX, fanboy, fangirl, female-assigned, female-bodied, feminine, feminist, femme-ish, femmeboy, fey, flirty, fluffy, fluid, freak, friend, friendly, full of love, furry, GLBTQIA, gay, gay-friendly, geek, gender bender, gender blender, gender deviant, gender expressive, gender fluid, gender neutral, gender pirate, gender variant, genderbent, gendered, genderfuck, genderless, genderqueer, genetic girl, gentleman, girl, girly, guy, huggly, huggy, human, indecisive, individual, interested, intergender, introvert, kid, kitty, knight, LGBTQIA, lesbian-identified, lover, loving, low femme, male-identified, masculine, masochist, me, misster, mister, mixed-gendered, multigender, myself, neither, nerd, neuter, neutral, no-gender, no-op, nonbutch/nonfemme, none of your business, nongender, odd, omnigender, omnisexual, open, other, other-gendered, out, pangender, pansexual, passionate, passive, peoplesexual, person, pervert, philosopher, pixie, platonic, polyamorous, polycurious, polyflexible, polysexual, polysnuggler, queer, queer-friendly, queer-minded, queergendered, questioning, quiet, quirky, quiz whore, recreational gender blender, ren fest fag, same gender loving, self-defined, sensitive, sex positive, shy, sir, sister, snuggly, spiritual, strange, submissive, switch, third gender, tomboy, top, trans-friendly, transgenderist, transy, trustworthy, undecided, undeclared, undefined, understanding, unique, unspecified, versatile, virgin, wannabe, wench, whatever, witch, XO, XX, YES!

What's yours?

They added two hundred-some labels on me so I had to update my list. :) I just think it's terribly amusing and I still have no idea what a third of those terms mean.

It's still a nice way to end an evening. I just need to get used to that look on your face not meaning you're going to kiss me or I'm going to kiss you. Because it would be so easy. I can't, and I won't, but at this point it's still there. I don't know how it couldn't be. Oh, oh, the irony though. I'm debating whether or not to even explain, it's so ironic. I don't even know if it's irony. Somebody find a word in German that means this. It's just been an ironic weekend. Honesty in the moment for sure.

To borrow yet again...you are now my rum and coke: I can look at you, I can be in the same room with you, and I can hang out with people who enjoy you, but it's against the rules for me to taste you.

Yeah, lame. It doesn't beat electrical socket. That one just floors me.

Oh, oh:
You are my December flagpole: even if someone triple-dog-dares me, it's a very bad idea for me to lick you.
You are my right thumb: an indispensible part of my life but I'm not supposed to put you in my mouth.

Short and sweet.

Yeah, guess what's on my mind. Jeez.

My retainers are probably done by now so I'm going to stop being lame and go to bed.

I have about enough credit with iTunes left from my birthday for one more CD. Should I get Wicked, the Nutshell Kids, or...um...I knew I had a nother option but I can't remember it at the moment. I know Nutshell Kids wasn't the reason I haven't just bought Wicked already because I only just remembered it. Might have been Sixpence None the Richer because I'd only ever heard three of their songs but the rest of their stuff is really nice.

Also I wrote a poem in Comp Sci today that I will post tomorrow because I don't have the energy to get it out of my bag and type it up right now. It needs work but it's cute.

Also that thing I wrote on Monday. Oh, the irony.


dumblemop: (Default)

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