YNAB is helping us kick ASS on our debts. it’s admittedly painful to be so meticulous about what comes in and what goes out, but honestly I’ve never felt so in control of the money. I think my favorite part is that you can adjust it constantly just by changing one number, and everything else shifts. plus you can forecast for next month.
when I was six I played a character in a community play whose name was Princess Smelly. she was the Trash Princess. I was dressed in a black plastic garbage bag with holes cut for my head and arms, and my mom had lovingly taped empty milk cartons and jagged pieces of cereal box all over it. I had one line and I shouted it at the top of my lungs: “I am Princess SMELLYYYYYYY”
whenever things are changing, I get what I used to think was a nervous twinge in my stomach, but actually means I’m about to learn something significant. something that will keep things from being the same again. I have that now. my mom always talked about this point in your 20s where you pull your head out of your ass and not just philosophize that the world doesn’t revolve around you, but really know it, in your gut. I think that might what this is. well shit.
being married has been like waking up every morning to find my very favorite character from my very favorite fandom wrapped up like a present in the same blankets I’m under and realizing that the fact that I am warm inside and out is partially because of the handsome heatbox next to me and partially because of how ferociously I will do anything for that man.
where do I dump my feelings? internet too public, people should be unburdened (or already know). buppp. irrational emotionality is not my favorite of my reoccurring traits
y’know, for as much as has happened to me in the last year, nothing has had quite such a positive effect on me as Jake’s existence in my life. this job? I whole-heartedly believe that I wouldn’t have believed in myself enough to apply. and even if, somehow, I’d gotten it – if it weren’t for him I’d work too long, too hard. my more consistent creativity? I’ve never been more motivated and it sure as hell wasn’t happening before I met him.
and when shit goes down I feel inadequate. like I’ve taken everything and give so little back. I keenly feel my age, my inexperience with communication and comfort. he makes me want to be more. what I would have been content with, what I would have rested my laurels on, he sees and smiles and says, sometimes without a word, “I know you.” it makes me push harder to be a better me, without a single requirement or request.
I love this man hard. harder than life. more than dignity and much, much more than being right. so much. fuck.
I am in love with and wildly attracted to a man, and it is the best relationship I will ever have. the only other relationship I would ever want to really explore (and this is true for him too) is a deep same-sex friendship that (more than) occasionally got physical.
emotional intimacy with the same sex that manifests itself in intense physical desire at times is…really really attractive to me. it wouldn’t even matter if she had someone else (in fact, it would probably be for the best) – we’d fill a special role in each other’s life, one that no other partner involved would be threatened by.
mmph.
having strangers on the bus touch me is so…distressing.
anyone who knows me should know I have no problem with touching. but my skin crawls when I’m forced into the far corner of the bench because someone else has decided my lap is best for their arm, or there’s no room and we really shouldn’t squish this many people on a metal box on wheels ok
and the smells, fuck. I am so overloaded and antsy right now
fyi this couch is…not sturdy so. just. be careful
I will love you if you are raw and real. I do not care about “normality” or properness. if you are raw and real and find the strength to love things that are raw and real I will love you.
I may not love you if you are scrubbed and sanitized. anyone can love a sanitized thing. I love the anger (even though it scares me). I love the fear (even though I drown in it sometimes). I love the howling grief and the slithering despair. I love these things because they are human.
I will love you because you relish your humanity and all the raw and rough and real things that really means.