Perhaps I take these things a little too seriously, but I cried. And if I think about it, I cry a little more. Troy and Abed cannot break friends. CANNOT.
BORN A BAGGINS, BUT WITH A TOOKISH STREAK A MILE WIDE
(via hpphans)
I am what I am, and what I am needs no excuses.
Nice sentiment, really - but try telling me that.
Today was the first day of my new job, so I got up nice and early to give myself time to shower, prepare a small lunch, watch a relaxing episode of Doctor Who…oh, and also to find clothes that made me look as much like a stereotypical woman as I could possibly manage, even to the extent that I got out one of my never ever used and utterly hideous frosty-pink lipsticks (given to me years back) and applied a liberal quantity, most of which ended up on my sleeve as I realised on the walk to work that, although I apparently seemed fine with dressing like somebody I wasn’t, I didn’t want that person to be somebody’s grandmother.
All in all, it was a pretty terrible idea. I met my other colleagues - all female-presenting and (I assume) female-identifying, though who knows? There may have been another in the cunning disguise of a bra and a tasteful V-neck. They kept joking about how we were all women - and although my female body was very much in evidence (through the medium of vaginal bleeding…lucky old me) I kept feeling like one of them was going to see through the tasteful feminine clothing and see the shabby-old-tweed-and-patterned-necktie that lay beneath. That I would be unmasked.
…And if I’m totally honest, I wanted somebody to unmask me. I wanted to be seen for who I was.
So all day I sat in my creaky office chair and chewed my blotchy biro and asked myself over and over and over…why did I pretend? Why did I put on a mask?
Without banging my own drum (however pretty I think the noise is!) I think it’s fair to say that I’ve come a long way when it comes to being comfortable with who and what I am. It’s taken years, but everyone knows I’m a lesbian, and over the course of the past six months, I’ve changed my name, and come out to pretty much everyone I know as genderqueer. Why am I still apologetic about what I am?
Family are a more complex issue than friends and even strangers. They know I am exclusively drawn to women, and barring a couple of unintentionally dodgy comments, they’ve generally been respectful of this - surprisingly so. Gender is another thing entirely, and I’m okay with keeping it under my hat for the time being. But work? By law, they can’t discriminate against me, and barring a few hideous instances with very ignorant people, coming out as genderqueer has shown me that most people are pretty accepting. And yet somehow, when it comes to explaining my gender identity to the people I work with, my yellow belly kicks in and the idea of telling anybody is temporarily even more appalling than the idea of having to present as a woman for the entire time I work there.
I think about dressing as I normally would…but then something inside me just goes:
The thing is, longterm, it just isn’t an option. I deserve to be able to be myself, and if some people are unable to accept it, then we wouldn’t have made very good friends anyway. Tomorrow I’m going to wear the hell out of my tweed jacket, and my jazziest necktie, and to hell with being something I’m not. 
Some days I want to faceplant in a blender.
Vein? What vein? Oh, the vein bulging out of my fucking forehead because of all my righteous and indignant rage. That vein.I see. Well, let me enlighten you.
A man who was elected as a representative of the student body on Friday, was quoted as saying this (in an otherwise vile, insulting and poorly written article by one of his close friends) on Saturday:
‘The LGBTQ here at Exeter functions well as a support group for people who find it harder to fit in, whether that’s as a result of their sexuality, a fondness for banging drums no-one else cares about, or just because they’re a bit weird in general.’
…Er, come again? Someone who is entrusted with the role of - fairly, and without prejudice - supporting and representing the entire student body thinks he can get away with referring to our varied and vulnerable membership as ‘a bit weird in general.’ Right. That isn’t remotely disgusting and reprehensible. Cough cough.
The article itself is largely a poorly-written and self-aggrandising bitchfest about the author’s lack of opportunities for conquest in our (admittedly rather small) local scene. He apportions blame to our LGBTQ support service, presumably for not being fabulous enough - as he seemed to expect a garish assortment of ugly gay stereotypes, bitching and belting out Gloria Gaynor classics while passing around the cocaine. 
It’s an irritating article which shows a limited knowledge of the support service and the community at large, but as the writer is not affiliated with the Guild or any other service which aims to support and represent students, it’s an irritation that could have been ignored. The article was published in an unofficial student tabloid with a reputation for badly-worded gossip and cheap sexual innuendoes. Hardly an adversary worth tackling. The inclusion of a Guild representative makes it much more serious - and the author’s description of the Q in our support service (standing for Queer and Questioning) as ‘superfluous’ is nothing short of discriminatory and insulting. Are our queer members not as important as our other members? Should those who are still questioning be forced out until they ‘make up their minds?’ Like I said - the author displays extraordinary ignorance of the issues faced by LGBTQ students.
After raging for around eight hours, I decided to email the author and explain to him why his words were offensive - politely welcoming to our further events and apologising if he had been unable to understand the stormy reaction to the article. He replied telling me that to him, ‘queer’ is superfluous, and that he will not edit the article by one word - not even to remove the comments by Charlie Griffin, Guild representative. It’ll be interesting to see how all of this goes down.
Oh, and Harry -
I’m sorry if we aren’t as fabulous and free-wheeling as you were expecting, but we’re not a dating agency, we’re a support service, and a group of friends. Perhaps we don’t make enough time for ‘bitchy banter and heavy quoting of Absolutely Fabulous’ when we’re too busy being a group of unique, varied and interesting individuals who happen to be somewhere on the LGBTQ spectrum…and not the cast of Will & Grace.
I cordially invite anyone who disagrees to suck my
(Source: patchworkbones)
Unf, nerdy girls with poor co-ordination, funny clothes and messy hair…
Being Human really knows how to play to me as an audience. I like as well that (unlike their depressing, if recognisable Goth-girl stereotype in episode three) Allison is still a really interesting and relatable character, despite being played for comedy to some extent.
Plus Ellie Kendrick is a really brilliant actress. I loved her in the Anne Frank drama they did a few years back, she made me fucking sob.
Oh Being Human, why do you make me love you?
(Source: beinghumangifs)
“Hello Christine. look at Raoul, now back at me. Now back at Raoul, and back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me. But if he cut his hair so he wouldn’t look like a lady he could look like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a boat with lit candles rising from the water. Anything is possible when your man is a phantom and not a sissy viscount. I stole a horse.”
(via hpphans)
tumblrbot asked:
ROBOTS OR DINOSAURS?
Robots are perhaps more enduring, but they are less delicious.
All the cool kids were doing it, so I thought I’d join in.
See, I don’t think I’ve got the whole thing ironed out yet. I feel like this is something that could fluctuate on a year to year or even month to month basis. I’m most certainly genderqueer, and while I by no means identify as a man, I definitely feel…more like a sir than a madam. I think I identify as a ‘gent’ rather than as a man. I express my gender in a masculine way most of the time. Basically I just want to wear tweed and prance about waving my willy at everyone. That’s my primary urge. So I’m a gent-erqueer. Is that a thing? Well, it is now.
Despite all that - and I definitely want a penis (not too large, though! not a maiden-frightener!) - I identify - basically - as a lesbian. I like wimmin very much indeed, be they trans or cis. But I do have sex with cisgendered men from time to time, something I used to submit to extensive (and often very self-deprecating) analysis, but which now I’ve just accepted as something I occasionally do. Generally if I am drawn to men it’s more personal longing - I want to be them, rather than wanting them. For example, I would love to look like Aidan Turner - to have his voice, and his presence. (That’s something I think - however much I try - I’ll never quite achieve.) I don’t fantasise about sex with men. But that doesn’t make me averse to a bit of beasting with a chap if I’m in the mood for some casual, no-strings-attached intimacy.
I would say I am homoromantic…though this is perhaps shifting a little, because on a completely non-sexual basis there are a couple of cisgendered men in my life I can imagine sharing a lifetime with. Recently I’ve developed a slight crush on a genderqueer trans man I met. He is very soft-spoken and mild, with the most beautiful eyes. Generally just a very lovely person. I’m beginning to wonder whether or not I would be able to contemplate a relationship with a male-identifying or male-bodied genderqueer person. I don’t know if I would consider a sexual relationship - but sex isn’t everything. Physical intimacy is important to me, but squirting and spasming is not. Hm. My thought is that it is just best not to rule anything out. Gender is so wide-ranging and so complex, and I’m only twenty. Who knows where I’ll end up?
…yes.
(via lightningcatters)
Hal might not enjoy Annie getting hysterical downstairs, but despite a fierce battle, I am suddenly finding myself enjoying the new series of Being Human. Part of me is kind of fighting this internally - I feel like I’m almost…betraying my slavish devotion to the original trio of actors who made the show I loved.
But no - wait - I can love Matt Smith without betraying Tom Baker, can I not? And it would be churlish to rage against the programme without due cause.
The last series, full as it was with the unbearably talented (and confusingly attractive) Aidan Turner, was nonetheless not very enjoyable for me. The writing was still good - I can’t fault it for creating excitement and intrigue, because I was jittering for hours before and after every episode, and the wolf-shaped bullet thread was genius - but I hated the dark direction Mitchell’s character took, because I…loved him, I loved how much he cared for Annie and George, and as he went further down into the vampire lifestyle, he lost more and more of the intimate connection with them, and for me, the murders were just disappointing. I know failure and misery makes for more dramatic viewing, but I wanted him to succeed - struggle, yes - but ultimately, to beat his vampiric urges and be human, like he wanted.
This series began with an episode that made me sad - not just because of the heartbreaking plot, but also because seeing George and Annie without Mitchell just made me think of the Mitchell-shaped void that was going to be in the next series. But now that George is gone, I wonder if it might not be a rather good thing for the show. Hal is an entertaining character, I really like him. He is different entirely from Mitchell - which is good - if he hadn’t have been, I’d have been so pissed off. And Tom, who annoyed the crap out of me last series, is actually turning out to be rather a gem, with some really funny and touching moments. I think what I need to do is regard this series and all subsequent series as a separate programme, and not compare the new characters to the old gang.
So…I’m intrigued to see how this series pans out.
(Oh, and I will blog about real life at some point - quite a lot has happened this week, from the extraordinarily wonderful to the cruel and unusual.)
(Source: canfeellikerazorblades)
