So,  this happened today.  Alden decided it was time for a hair cut.  We cut off about a foot, now it's sort of chin length, and I shaved it into a mohawk for him.  He's donating that glorious braid to Locks of Love.  Some little kid is going to be over the rainbow about that gorgeous red hair.

Yeah.  It was fairly emotional, but once the braid went, things were smooth sailing.  Love that boy.  He's been home for Easter break, and pretty much hanging around me all the time, and I'm not at all sick of him.  This summer is going to be rough for both of us, more for me than him, but we'll both grow.  He is getting cooler, and more mature by the day.

We had a frank talk about sexuality, the other day, and it was so nonchalant, yet...I don't know, important?  That's not quite the word.  Anyway, we were talking about how people use homosexual slurs as name calling, like it's derogatory.  I explained my theory that most people who are homophobic, past the level of just normal ignorance, have never stared at themselves, and their whole lives, and said "do I like the same sex?  Could I?  Is it possible?  Just who am I really attracted to, anyway?"  Then to come up with a definitive answer, or not. Many people, adults and all, are afraid of that sort of naked evaluation, and never honestly ask that question, and then live in fear of it for their whole lives.  Fearing latent feelings in themselves, fearing what other people, society might think.

It's not coming through well, in text, but the conversation flowed easily.  He surprised me by saying, "I think I know what you mean.  I asked myself that, and honestly, I don't know.  I like girls and I like boys."  So, that.  I reassured him that 13 is plenty young, and even if he never decided, that's fine too.  When kids are young, sexuality is elastic, and I was inwardly proud of him for being cool with himself to just come right out and say it.  I was pretty happy we have that kind of dialogue, too.  I also let him know that I didn't really know either, but that I met his father and fell in love with him, and that is what it is.  If Irv's starstuff, his essence, his wonderfulness was in a woman, then that.  For me, love doesn't hang on gender.  Love is love.  I think Alden's kinda the same way, for now at least.

This weather is murdering my foot, and my sense of drive.  It's forty fucking degrees!  FORTY.   I got up at 5, realized it was fucking pouring (and forty degrees...).  Further realized my foot was thrumming right along with the rain drumming on the roof.  Went back to sleep.

Fuck.

Dug out the belly dance video. I've been watching and sort of swaying along with some on Youtube.  Today, I actually did it.  I think I realize, now why I always feel like an enormous failure. The one I have just kinda plunges you right into dancing.  No warmups! No stretching!  No opening your form, and flowing.  Just...you're standing there, and then you start hip circling.  Then, about 15 minutes of hip dropping, torso whatever, shimmying,I get a major stitch, and quit.  It feels good, conceptually, but I'm durrin it wrong.  I wish I were more coordinated. I can fuck like amazeballs, I can pound and sway and shimmy and do it to some primal rhythm all day...till someone sets it to music, then I look like I'm trying to shake toilet paper off my ass.

Today, with the help of some Youtube videos, I had a better time of things.  Only, with all the pivoting, The Tendon started burning, so I quit fast.  When the pain lets up, I'm going to do my little medicine ball twisty routine.  That always makes me feel like I did something.

Right now, I'm freezing ass cold, fighting to stay awake. No real motivation except to play some old school video games and maybe take a nap, when I inevitably drift off hitting the attack button.

I'm so not used to insomnia.  I had a now-rare night of no sleep, and today was just all about moping around and melting down.  Seriously, I couldn't figure out what to eat, I was getting deliriously hungry, Irv and Alden were hassling me in their own bombastic Walling Way, and I just started crying.   After I broke down, Irv was like "you need to eat, then go take a nap or something."  I think the tears came because the way the day was going to look, he planned on dragging me to store after store, again.  That's happened two weeks in a row, and after a shopping excursion, I'm crippled for days.  It's cold, rainy, and the reason I didn't sleep already was intense pain.

It's been a loss of a day.  Sleeping on the couch for half the day.  No gym.  Bleh.

Some stupid twat over on Spark posted a link to a CNN article on a message board about fat fashionistas making blogs, with the idea like "why are people always trying to justify their fatness?".   Um, Stupid Twat, you are in a weight loss and fitness community...  I served it back, and it felt good to silence a stupid fat hating twat.

Also, Pintrest.  I'm on Pintrest now. I  have no idea what the fuck this is all about.  I'm just gaily going from thing to thing posting pins on my boards.  Pins for beer! Pins for snakes!  Pins for tarot cards!

καλλίστῃ in the Springtime!

I still meant every word of that post.  I'm reading cards again.  I eschew all systems, I fly.  It's freeing to have tools and use them as such.  Utilizing the cards, is akin to not having any religious system, but feeling like "I need some Jesus" and popping into Sunday church for some communion, and getting that boost of Vitamin God.  I should do that sometime. I can still make like a Catholic, and take the Host properly. They're all symbols, all reminders for our human shells.  Divine self doesn't need them, but sometimes these tools make it easier to figure out your Divine self, or talk to it or touch it.

Fnord.

I just saw that quote below, on Tumblr.  I still don't totally get Tumblr.  It's like blogging, but with lots of pictures and memes?  So, like FB but with less soccer moms and "-ville" games?  I have no idea.  I'm just a writer. Therefore I write.  Blogger seems to be better about pictures and whatnot, than it used to be. Maybe I'll start putting the songs I'm obsessed with, quotes, and other mental ejaculations here.

So, that quote.  Yeah.  I would still fuck Henry Rollins into the ground like a tent peg.

I don’t need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands holding onto me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck.
— Henry Rollins

I am SHOUTING INTO SPACE.  BAAAAGHGHGHGHAAAH.

I've been blogging my ass off, but over on Spark.  I keep it squeaky clean, there, but it's a place where I can ramble about mundane shit like exercise and eating.  I'm exercising more and eating less.

I made a friend there, and she sent me a link to her tumblr.  A) Tumblr is cool. I feel like an old person.  I'm all "so, you do this thing with pictures?  Tell me more..."  Because, I only ever write.
B) she's a big girl, like myself, and she posts the most lovely and flattering pictures.  I hates the camera. Luiz is always trying to get me naked and in front of the camera.  He wants to take artistic nudes.  I'm like...fuck that... But, I see this girl, and I'm like "hmm."  I mean, I love my body. I love squishing it around in my hands, and working it out, and feeling it squish against someone else, and I love looking down at myself...but I hate seeing pictures of any part of me.

Back reading cards every day for myself.  Like riding a bike.  I'm also doing more cards at work, too.  Hell, I've also been riding a bike.