A Long Time Ago, We Used to be Friends šŸ‘šŸ‘

Went to a divorce this week. Itā€™s like a wedding, wherein thereā€™s paperwork and promises and then a party. The guest mingling works in reverse though, where you start out on seperate sides of the aisle and then go to seperate parties.

I know both the participants from back in the day, though now that sides are drawn up I find myself opposite my former partner. I broke up with Nick back in the oughts. Iā€™m sorry your flight from him took so much longer. But Iā€™m really exited about where you came out.

Went to civil court super early, which is always exciting. Watched Nick not be able to even look at me, which is sad but also amazing. I mean, Iā€™m enormous and blue haired and wearing a 5ā€² red hat and I used to own a business with you. Pretending to not notice me takes real dedication to an implausible lie. But I do appreciate the opportunity to feel intimidating.

People here keep guessing that my esthetic will be a problem in rural America, and seem to assume that it will attract attention I donā€™t want. I feel like youā€™ve all forgotten how I spent decades being invisible. I am familiar with blending in to avoid interactions I donā€™t want. But I am also familiar with using intimidation to avoid interactions ā€“ I know for a fact that even in Seattle people will try to not be noticed noticing you if you do something they canā€™t ignore. Theyā€™re intimidated not because I am threatening violence, but because I clearly am not afraid of the forces they expect to regulate my behavior. And they should be. People should be able to tell at a distance that fucking with me will be at the very least unpredictable if not dangerous.

You imagine that calling attention to myself makes me vulnerable. And there are circumstances where thatā€™s true. But often it does exactly the opposite. It makes people think harder about how they want to interact with me, and puts up a barrier against people who canā€™t muster that thinking. When theyā€™re happy about this it makes them want to talk to me about something I did or am. I got hit on in West Salem because of my style and the way it empowered people to interact with me. It does attract attention, just like I meant it to. But it doesnt attract conflict, because the same style is scary for people who imagine themselves in opposition to me.

Also the idea that people are like magically more tolerant in big cities is a lie. There are aspects of that idea that are true, because population density does influence social behavior, but in general bigotry is fairly well distributed across the country. Also my town is full of billionaires ā€“ theyā€™re intolerant of humanity in general and often in a position to hurt lots of people all at once.

Got to do DerbyKā€™s makeup 1Didnā€™t get to do mine, because DerbyK wanted to be the star. Which is fine; Iā€™m happy to bridesmaid and wear whatever you want on your special day. But you should go out with me sometime with makeup, because it not only helps me grab attention and foster intimidation, but also helps me feel better able to perform the sort of person I like to … Continue reading. Itā€™s the first time someone has let me do makeup at them. Everyone is so impressed when I draw on heads and faces, even though Iā€™m definitely not great at it. I donā€™t mean that in as humbleness or timdiness, I just mean I have very little experience and only basic technical skills. What I do have is zero shits to give about just slapping on some color until I like it. Itā€™s the sort of thing people misunderstand as confidence, but my version is much closer to nihilism. Cool isnā€™t knowing what thing to copy, cool is not caring if anyone know youā€™re faking it. Cool is faking it in a way other people want to copy.

Did a little bar hoping, which is unique for me. I donā€™t do bars much in general ā€“ even when I drank ā€“ and going between them is only a thing Iā€™d do with a specific purpose. Had 6 shots over the night for a total of $13, or the cost of one cocktail in Seattle. Also had Allota Colada at Red Lobster, which lived up to its name. I donā€™t think Iā€™ve been to a Red Lobster since I was last at this one, while Daveā€™s sister worked there.

Met a bunch of derby folks, who were very good. A little dinged up like you might expect, but extremely supportive. Unfortunately I sat at the wrong end of the table, with day job associates. Mostly it was fine but there was one point where I had to leave because one of them as bragging about emotionally abusing their step children. It was real gross, and makes me want to intervene, but thereā€™s zero chance I could make a difference from my position. So I just tried to stay out of it.

Had feels about performance, when we got to karaoke. You were kind enough not to ask me about it while we were there. Iā€™ve been working on performance, since Paino Lessons, because itā€™s a thing I have lots of adverse experiences about, and thus a thing Iā€™ve got lots of avoidance about. For a long time I had to not be good at anything Mother might ask me to perform. From bike tricks to music to reading, if I could do it well and Mother could brag about it ā€“ or punish about it ā€“ it was in my best interest to be incapable. But Iā€™ve been working at it, and using lessons from the non-tainted performance I have, like with costume and heist. Iā€™m not ready to sing, or even to piano, but it does feel closer.

Went to lunch with Cowboy & Co., which was much more fun than I expected. I felt like you guys were interested in me and the things Iā€™ve done, which is not usually how I feel when talking to people I donā€™t interact with much. Usually I have to be pretty careful to not tip off the normies that my life is scary. But I should remember youā€™re not normies, not even the little ones. And that you actually like me when Iā€™m not around, an idea my brain refuses to accept. We should still talk sometime, under more focused conditions. Even if youā€™re free from the bit you found most distressing I suspect it would still give you peace to tell a story about it.

Watched the first half of Mixed Nuts (1994), a Steve Martin Christmas black comedy. Itā€™s got lots of funny people in it, often doing funny things. Madaline Kahn sits on the floor in an elevator and plays childrenā€™s instruments. I even like the tone, though I can see why less sad people do not. But it does deserve the bad reviews. It doesnā€™t quite pull the jokes together into a movie. It wants to show us big complicated social chains, but it doesnā€™t have time for all of the people it needs for that trick. Or at least doesnā€™t have a tight enough plot. I would still say watch ā€“ it is already in Plex ā€“ but only if tone and jokes sounds like a movie youā€™d like.

And many more. Iā€™ve had lots of talks with DerbyK that need all their feels poked, there are still neighborhood feels to leak out, a therapy session I jammed into Friday afternoon, and a discussion of labor abuse via mandatory time off. Iā€™m hoping tomorrow I can get through the listing portion of this backlog and move on to what it all means. Or at least to how I feel about all the bits. Right now itā€™s sufficient to know that I havenā€™t felt better about friends in a long time.

ZiB

ā€”
Sent from a phone.

Stars for Later

Stars for Later
1 Didnā€™t get to do mine, because DerbyK wanted to be the star. Which is fine; Iā€™m happy to bridesmaid and wear whatever you want on your special day. But you should go out with me sometime with makeup, because it not only helps me grab attention and foster intimidation, but also helps me feel better able to perform the sort of person I like to be when Iā€™m in loud, busy, social places. When people know Iā€™m too much up front it helps them make the right decision about how to interact with me.