(no subject)

I love my parents dearly, but they are so far different from me that we might as well live on different planets, not just different continents. I'm pagan, bi, and poly, recently divorced. They're deeply devout fundamental Christians, serving as missionaries in Peru, monogamously married for 36 years now. I just received a message from my father saying "Rejoice with us! We have a new sister in the kingdom!". I replied by changing the subject completely and talking about my job.

I can't even bring myself to tell them that I'm not a Christian anymore, let alone the more difficult things like my sexuality or my relationship with Jen. I suppose because I don't want them to stop loving me, or what would almost be worse, to try to "bring me back to the Lord". I'd rather just not share a full connection than threaten what remains by coming out to them. I don't trust them to accept me for what I truly am.

I'm almost 34 years old, and I'm afraid of my parents. It's painful to admit, but it's true. I don't think that will ever change.

I was hoping to get this result...

Certain persons will know why.

(no subject)

I think I've determined my artist date for next week. I'm going to go get my hair cut and possibly colored (or else do it myself like I usually do), and get a manicure. I might even also get that piercing I've been wanting for more than two years now. Keep your fingers crossed.

I realized this morning that it's my artist that likes to play dress-up and look nice, and the other side of me that says it's frivolous and a waste of money. She often wins, which is why I have a collection of semi-formal dresses, but on the other hand I haven't had a haircut for over six months, because I always find excuses not to do it. The sad part is that I really love the whole haircut process. Having my hair washed and head massaged and someone playing with my hair...I love all that. Strange.

What a surprise

It's all eternaleponine's fault I'm doing quizzes this morning instead of getting dressed and going to work like a good little do-bee. Which sort of contradicts this result, doesn't it.




Now I really must put on some clothes and get out of here before I'm horribly late.

(no subject)

stolen from krasota, who stole it from darkest_eve, who stole it from missmorte (and this is the house that Jack built).

( Using only the lyrics from one artist or band, answer the following questions: )

(no subject)

After three hours...I finally finished. I sewed about ten applique roses on an old pair of jeans. Two of them to cover holes near the zipper and back pocket, and the rest so those two wouldn't feel lonely. I ironed them on the other day, but iron-on patches never stick, so I knew I'd have to sew them too. Tonight while gaming I got out the needle and thread and sewed them all down. My fingers are yelping at me because I stuck myself numerous times. Denim is not easy to work with.