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spill it.

  • Feb. 15th, 2008 at 5:56 PM
eat my shorts, hells yeah, so very bored, almost there (obama), lisa slaps bart, zacky strip, foreman face, cuddy uh-uh, get out!, awake and unafraid (frank), brush your shoulders off (obama), shut up - arnold, chase o_0, on the list (homer), calm down LJ, how about no, buh?, frankie tongue, carry on-black parade, calvin cussing, zacky hip, you stay classy, kitty mike, objection, lol (ZV), oic what you did there, idk (homer), zacky afterlife, fire, pretty zacky, homer popcorn, woohoo!, don't waste my time, frank colors, asdy98dihfg, seize the day, tragic affair, urge to kill, don't quit thinking, omg, ignorant (huey), *hugs*, love absurd
taken from [info]karnythia:

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Comments

(Anonymous) wrote:
Feb. 16th, 2008 01:01 am (UTC)
When I was twenty-one, one Saturday night my two cousins were getting ready to go out to a local bar. I was sitting in the living room reading a book. My mother says, "You should go too! You never go anywhere." So, even though I would much rather have stayed home with my book, I reluctantly got ready to go.

When we were leaving the house, my mother said, "Now go get yourself a man tonight! But pick a good one!" I rolled my eyes, knowing that the last place I would want to pick up a guy is in a bar, especially one in my hometown.

My mother caught the eyeroll, and said, "What, are you queer or something?"

It is the most hurtful thing she has ever said to me, and even though she said it in a joking fashion -- and even though we have never spoken of it in the six years since and I know she probably doesn't even remember saying it -- part of me has never forgiven her for that. And that same part of me probably never will.

Because the thing is -- it's not that I find the idea of being queer an insult. No, the main problem is because, even though I don't identify as "gay", I also don't identify as "straight." I fall somewhere in the middle, and that joking question made me realize something that I never wanted to.

My mother has always, always told me that there's nothing I can't tell her, nothing I could tell her that would make her stop loving me.

Thanks to that night six years ago, though...I know that's not true.
(Anonymous) wrote:
Feb. 17th, 2008 03:40 am (UTC)
Meow!
[info]reanimated wrote:
Feb. 17th, 2008 03:49 am (UTC)
lol hi. you're not very sneaky, D.
(Anonymous) wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2008 12:12 am (UTC)
Sometimes I wish my dog would crash so I could make the selfless choice to end her life, so I wouldn't have to come home at lunch every day anymore and wouldn't have to prepare her complicated meals only to throw out half the rice when she's done because she hates it. And I wouldn't have to give her fluids every nght with a needle. But then I get the leash and she jumps up in happiness to go for a walk, and I know she isn't through yet, so I can't be, either.

I hate my job right now. I work with a bunch of f*&^ing morons who don't listen. Sometimes I just want to throw up my hands and WALK OUT!