Wednesday, January 28, 2009

And now for a happy post:


[20:10] Saturnfly Babii: watching modern marvels on the history of underware
[20:10] Saturnfly Babii: lol
[20:10] Saturnfly Babii: it's actually interesting
[20:11] Terry Toland: XD Cool.
[20:12] Saturnfly Babii: I guess Hitler was apposed to modern day underwear
[20:12] Saturnfly Babii: lol
[20:13] Terry Toland: o_O
[20:13] Terry Toland: WEll, he *was* evil... >->
[20:13] Saturnfly Babii: yea... EXactly!

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Three Random Thoughts

1.) I get medz in real life today! These will either calm me down or make me want to kill everyone. 8D

2.) When you read a blog with a team of writers (beyond one where they're multiple personalities like here), posting that you like A better than another team member on B's post is !@#$ing rude. You should be stabbed in the eye with a spork.

3.) I want to hunt down whoever thought Bert and Ernie were gay room mates, rip our their genitals and shove them down his/her throat. Sesame Street was designed so that the characters acted like their audience members, which are infants up through early/middle elementary school. Guess what? I took baths with my little brother at that age, and it certainly wasn't !@#$ing incest! Some families bathe same-sex friends together at that age, too. I think my mom had to do that a few times with the younger boys in her daycare because they would get caked in mud. Bert and Ernie are friends, not lovers. They related to 5 year-olds, not adult San Franciscan residents.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Furries at Skin Stores

I don't get it. Someone want to explain this to me?

Granted, I'm a shapeshifter, and I will have times when I got to a store looking odd. But with a fox face is waiting at a lucky chair for a skin that will not match their furry parts, I feel like someone is playing a strange joke on me.

And what the hell is the fascination with Rave clothing? Maybe I don't get out much, but a good chunk of what I've seen is modeled or worn by furries. I could go into the correlation with real life, but I'm tired. And I don't have to make sense here.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Trodden Dirt Road

Highlight if you really want to read. It's just me venting. :P

EDIT: I love my boyfriend. I am incredibly blessed to have someone so caring to not only protect me, but speak for me. Thank you, so much darling, for not only listening but doing what you can.

And thank you to the awesome people out there. I got my pat on the back that I wanted. <3 <3 <3

I have to wonder how many other people struggle with asserting themselves and not wanting to look like they're attention-seeking. Right not, I'm struggling to get over a sinking feeling in my chest because I feel like I've been looked over for my efforts (which I also feel happens often).

I don't mind that my ideas were used so much as I mind not being mentioned in the end. This stems recently from two places, and I'd rather keep it as general as possible. I really don't want to cause drama, as the individuals involved are very sweet, well-meaning people and I think highly of them. (Maybe that's why this feels so heavy, because of the value I give them.) The first, the main individual gave me credit once, but then subsequent parties did not give me any credit. Granted, I found it kind of amusing, because people basically posed themselves unnaturally and anyone reading it would find it strange.

However, the second turned into a competition I never intended. I honestly just wanted to see people's skills. Granted, I was once again mentioned in the very beginning, but the final hurrah really left me... well, with the upset stomach I have now. Maybe it's the manners that have been drilled into me, or the TV specials I've seen, but I thought the closing would have a final reflection on all things that made it possible. I don't care if I wasn't the one that stood out, but...

Well, to be blunt, it was my damn idea.

And somedays, that's all I have. Ideas. They're what have kept me company so many years when my peers shunned me. They're what make me who I am. So, it's not that I've been stabbed through the heart so much as a cannonball has been shot through my torso at this point.

If people read this, again, it's me venting. I'd don't want anyone to be unrecognized, I don't want a huge campaign. The only thing I would want is a pat on the back.