Sometimes, the absolute best part of my day is a moment when I could be particularly kind to someone.
Unrelated, but sort of not, I finally had it out with my old boss. Continuing to (fairly) quietly ignore her hateful rhetoric and vitriol just felt like I was compromising myself. If I can't use her as a job reference any longer, it's fine, because I won't have to worry about the moral conflicts she constantly leads me to. Idiocy. I removed a few other people from my Facebook friends list, and it brought me relief that seems... ridiculous? But considering how much I use the site, for so many purposes, the concept of "networking" with people that I truly don't want in my life has been oddly stressful. Oh, the Internet.
To tell the truth, I'm somewhat enraged. I'm so endlessly sick of women tearing one another apart for sport. I won't for a moment say that it's not something I haven't been guilty of, and something I don't still occasionally do. However, it's the prolific amount of women causing one another severe amounts of emotional harm, via "safe" mediums like the Internet, by condemning the physical appearance of one another. I'm tired of being part of it, even as an observer, and I'm tired of being told that I'm "just jealous" when I intervene. I'm sick of being bombarded with false advertising. I'm sick of reading studies in which little girls conclude they want to be "sexy," before they even know what the word means. I'm sick of men perpetuating this culture, but I'm so much more sick of women shamelessly heaping all the blame upon men without taking a second of self reflection first. I've had enough of hearing that "we have arrived," now that every country in the world has allowed women to compete on their Olympic teams -- when these women return to home and are ALLOWED to vote, drive cars, file for divorce, take birth control, turn down sex, prosecute rapists, run for political office, be paid equal wages, and roughly a billion other things... then we will have arrived. I'm exhausted of hearing that supporting women, locally or globally, somehow makes me a dyke. I'm sick of being called a lesbian, like it's a dirty word or an insult. I'm sick of being told that I must be a lesbian for a thousand other reasons.
I know that it will always be exhausting to spend every day standing up for what I believe in. I know that I will never stop. Sometimes I just need to take a few minutes to complain, just so that I can keep going. I can't simply move through the world when I see so much wrong in it. Apathy, in that regard, just isn't in my nature.
I'm going to have to sit down and write Sarah a letter... Not one that I'm going to actually send her, but the kind I write here so I can move on and feel better. She's more a victim of her own uselessness and stupidity than anyone else, but that doesn't stop me from being infuriated. I know I won't settle until I vent.
I moved a large chunk of money into savings today, then promptly emailed my tattoo artist. I'm dying to see him. Fresh ink makes everything better. I'd like another piercing or two, as well, but I've sort of run out of room. I don't want my nipples pierced again, I can't keep a nose ring in, and I'm rather averse to surface piercings. So, ink it is. I was saving money for vacation, but now I don't see to be going anywhere, so... there's cash on hand for body modification. My mother will be so proud.
Doc was lovely this morning. I'm going to do a sleep study. I don't say this in a negative way, but I suspect it will be unproductive. I have an incredibly hard time sleeping anywhere besides my bed, and I can count on one hand the number of people I can sleep near/in the presence of with any success. If only it weren't completely illogical and unreasonable, and against the rules of the whole ordeal, I'd beg J to fly here and go with me. Anyway, it's better than the usual super-fun-cancer-time-lolz that usually occur when I go to the doctor.
Beyond that... beyond that... hmmm... I think I've finished compiling research & data for my paper. It took an extra fun amount of time because, as it usually the case when I write a paper, I generally pick the less popular opinion. I like the more challenging argument. It's not hard; I'm not pushing myself if I'm making the same case as everyone else. Besides, I usually believe the other side anyway. I did a fair amount of the research at work and I'm kind of confused about the fact that the web filter blocks us from looking at websites for bathing suits, but I had no problems with searching things like "recidivism rates of juvenile sex offenders," and reading rather lengthy articles on the topic. It seems like one might be more "offensive" to the work environment than the other, and probably the swimsuits wouldn't be it.
As for the rest of it, which has stopped being the most pressing matter... I realized recently that I hadn't assigned a nickname, which is customary here, just because. It only took a moment, and if the reference is lost, I'll smile to myself about it and that will be just fine. So, anyhow, as everyone tends to do, Nabo disappeared at the height of everything, and remains so. Half of me is mad, and the other half is tired of giving a fuck. Maybe those proportions are off, but who knows in which direction they should lean otherwise. Regardless, since I'm positive I elaborated on just how infuriating, disrespectful, and otherwise upsetting I find a sudden lack of communication... Fuck it. You know what? Disappearing, making me feel awful, acting like this? It's incredibly immature. I'm so incredibly far from being impressed. Apparently, all anyone knows these days is weakness.
Me, though? I'm not taking any fucking prisoners.