Today is the last day to join, so if you want in on it, be sure to read over the rules and PM Shakespearicles!freehappinessdom · 6:14pm Nov 4th, 2016
Post 300! What better way to celebrate than to rant?
Long stream of consciousness post. I talk about identity mostly. Read at your own risk.
Hey guys. I’m typing this from my living room on my new(ish) chromebook through a sneeze attack. Rush Limbaugh blares on my right from my vinyl/cd/radio player. Trying to keep my patience with my son today, who has a runny nose and a scratchy throat. Pretty sure he’s sick, but my sniffles could be just allergies. I’m hoping they’re just allergies. Last thing I need going into the weekend is a new cold.
Why am I listening to Rush? (If you don’t who that is, he’s some blowhard on syndicate radio who basically spews whatever he thinks the conservatives want/need to hear.) Mostly… because I’m lonely, and he’s entertaining in a bombastic, train wreck sort of way. It did cause some crisis in how I see myself and my values though when I would occasionally agree with the guy. Mostly when I take what he says about being politically correct at face value. But then I keep listening to him, and I usually see him as the MRA, propagandist, profiteering, self-important asshole that he is.
Let me change gears here--
For readers of HCHL, I imagine chapter 8 was a pleasant surprise. Weeks ago I had stated I wouldn’t post it without Beast’s complete input. He’d read half of it, but the latter half still had yet to benefit from his magical touch. But he’s been battling his own problems, and I know he hates to be a burden, so I was feeling bad for keeping the update back for so long when the groundwork was done. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wasn’t keeping the update back out of consideration of him, but out of fear that my work alone would be lacking. Trust that once Beast is 100% again, I’ll be happy to implement whatever contributions he brings to Chapter 8, but from here on out, I shall try to get by with just lil’ old me. I think that’s fair to him (not stalling everything because he’s dealing with stuff, which I know he doesn’t want) and keeping the story from you guys (especially when I have complete drafts just sitting around gathering dust.) Chapter 9 has been started. I think I have a page and a half. Don’t ask me when it’ll be done though. I have no idea.
Got some bad news this week. On Tuesday husbando and I learned that some government aid we’d been waiting for (benefits for his service to the US Air Force) will not be coming at all. For the last two months we’ve been chanting to ourselves that “any day now” the money we’d need to breathe a little easier would drop. It was.... A bit devastating to learn the opposite. So far we’ve been managing, but this month, there’s no way to avoid paying some bills late.
It’s a hard thing when you have to choose between diapers, food, or your electricity bill.
It makes me wonder if the American system can change. Maybe not immediately, but soon enough that our family would really (and visibly) benefit. Election night is coming up. I know who I’m voting for, but I do it without enthusiasm. I do it with some relief that this crazy election year is ending, but with no real enthusiasm. Our everyday lives (meaning that of my family’s) will not change from the results next Tuesday. Not that day. Not the month after. Not years after. That is just how I feel. The State of Things is such that any changes made at the top doesn’t reach far enough down to make a real impact.
(I’m being dramatic, of course. If Obamacare was replaced/changed, that would be a big effect, but that’s about the only thing I can think of off the top of my head. Please feel free to share your ideas. The only big effects I see coming from this election are on the state level down. California has some big props and measures to weigh in on this year)
I was having a fantasy the other day. Of buzzing off all my hair, getting into a crappy car, and driving across the country. Weird right? That I’d think living some vagrant life would be ideal. Even in my fantasy, life would be lean. Fast food would be a luxury. Money would have to be wiled out of any situation to put toward gas. My car would be a rat’s nest, filled with clothes and trinkets.
...But then I think of the lack of ties. You see, in this fantasy, I’m not a mother. Not a wife. Not a daughter or a sister. I’m just a lone woman exploring America. I crawl the streets at night and speak with the disenfranchised and rejected. I see secret horrors as well as beauties. On a whim, I can decide to drive to a national monument or travel to a big music festival. I can participate in social movements without fear of how it might affect people close to me if I got arrested for civil disobedience. I could pursue art and sex without restriction. My existence would be one wild ride of struggle, adventure, and spontaneity.
I was trying to think on why the fantasy needed me to have a buzzed head. Why cut off all my hair? I’ve been thinking of that for a while and I think… maybe it’s trying to let go of some identity society has forced on me? People tie long hair to femininity. With that comes expectations to look and behave like what society feels a woman ought to be. But what if I could be a chameleon? Maybe one day I could wear earrings and feminine clothes. But the next day I feel especially “male” in my energy, and I decide to wear baggy, rugged, and otherwise manly clothing? What if one day I just mix femininity and masculinity?
I hope this doesn’t confuse. My gender identity is solidly that of a woman. I guess I just rebel against the ideas of how being a “woman” is supposed to dictate my appearance, behavior, and overall manner of expression. I wax and wane on how “traditional” I look all the time. In my wedding photos, I look like the girl next door. Just a few years after that, I look like some punk rat. I just want the freedom to change my outward looks when I feel my spirit desires it.
That’s why I have a mohawk right now.
My hair was already dyed red, so the people I encounter every day weren’t too shocked. I guess my whimsical attitude toward appearance has made this a logical leap for others. I’ve gotten enthusiastic compliments. I’ve gotten bemused shrugs. I’ve gotten muted disapproval. For a DIY haircut (yes I really did this all myself) I’ll take anything that isn’t overwhelming negativity to mean I did a decent job.
Maybe my mohawk is me preparing for the rough(er) times ahead? Maybe it’s preparation for the upcoming election? Maybe I’m just trying to distance myself from all the nonsense I’ve had to deal with this year? I’m reminded of that scene in the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo series where the protagonist cuts her hair into a mohawk just before a big court appearance against a man who had wronged her.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had a mohawk. I used to have one four or five years ago. You guys might even be able to find a pic of it if you clicked around enough on the net. (Hint: start at my FimFic profile)
The haircut, something I had been thinking of doing again for months, is what sparked this weird speculation about identity. I can’t help but make connections to politics, society, and my personal life. My brain is like a sticky web. Yesterday, I was walking down the street with round leopard print sunglasses, a straight-billed SF Giants baseball cap, a Che Guevara t-shirt, and of course my rad hair. The look had this anti-establishment attitude to it. I even subconsciously put in a bit of a male swagger as I slouched down the street like some kind of intellectually burdened hipster. The reality that undermined that presentation? I had a cute as a button 2-year-old boy with curly blonde hair who looked like an extra for Little Rascals, whilst in my ear blared Rush Limbaugh, self-proclaimed “voice of the right”.
So I was wondering as I walked, “How did I even come to assemble this facade? Why am I carrying on a performance to go with it? Is there really an ‘original’ or ‘honest’ way of carrying one self that doesn’t borrow from some stereotype or caricature?” The answer is: to act “off-script” (that is, to behave in a way that one does not readily recognize as coming from some facet of pop culture, even in a derivative manner) results in people looking at you like you’re crazy. The next best thing is to be derivative. To change only by degrees. Even in the fantasy I mentioned before, the “free” me with the buzzed head still looked and behaved within certain boundaries of expectations.
My therapist was talking to me the other day about the different facets of my personality. “You have this serious side, this emotional side, and this fun side that trades places within the span of moments.” She says my training is to learn how to keep my different parts from changing so rapidly. From keeping the emotions that don’t serve me in certain situations from guiding all my actions.
When thinking about things this way, I realize that my “inner child” seems to only come out when I’m alone or engaging in a solitary activity. Basically I was a lonely kid, so I learned to just make my lonely existence how I be playful and fun. All the ways I self-comfort, all the ways I entertain myself… very solitary. So it’s hard trying to comfort myself in a social situation. Especially with a toddler. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this dozens of times on this blog.
I want to bring out my playful side in more areas of my life. Maybe this part of my personality can’t be as “free” as the vagrant in my fantasy, but does total freedom mean total happiness?
When thinking of happiness as the ultimate goal, then society no longer appears to be my biggest obstacle. My great challenge is really just overcoming myself.
So I post a chapter on FimFic because I realize that I’m the only one holding me back. So I cut my hair into a mohawk because I know that no matter what I do, there will always be someone who disapproves of what I want. So I listen to Rush Limbaugh because it fills the void, provides an alternative perspective, and solidifies my own views. So I have unrealistic fantasies only to remember that half of my limitations are imagined, and the other half are temporary.
It is human to want to trade some freedom for some happiness. We do this by living within the boundaries of society, by participating in its systems, and weathering its collective views. We do this on a more personal level by our relationships with friends and family so that we can belong. We do this by assembling identities that jive with what others, in society and in our personal lives, can tolerate. But the danger is taking this too far by limiting ourselves too much. It’s good to be happy. It’s also good to be free. Freedom is discomfort. Happiness is security. You need a balance of both.
So I’m uncomfortably happy as I breathe, try, and thus, live.
Bring on the tough times.
P.S.
I've been finding lots of random little interesting things online that I've been dying to share and discuss, including a pony murder mystery game on Android that has multiplayer capabilities. What's it called? Pinkamena. I think I'll do a review of it in the future for funsies.
P.P.S.
Something just occurred to me, re: behaving in a manner independent of pop culture... is that even possible? Considering how much pop culture influences most people's lives, it seems that just about everyone would borrow from something they'd seen, even subconsciously. I think that was the point that Natural Born Killers was trying to make, right? (Or am I getting my movies mixed up?)
P.P.P.S.
I'm most definitely sick. Ugh.
It is strange to me, for many reasons, to think of assuming a "masculine swagger" firstly, as a thing (I can't imagine what it looks like), and then as a desirable thing (why would anyone wish to align themselves that way?). It was never some sort of identity I thought of as a thing to be desired by anyone, just a thing that happened to one and that was it.
I'm assuming your mohawk is in preparation for the upcoming Revolution. I mean, that's what I'm getting ready for.
4286629
The first thing I did upon reading your comment was go onto YouTube to look for an example. What I found was dating advice for men desperate to attract women, and videos of male models at fashion week. Both were grotesquely fascinating in their own way.
Masculine swagger might have been laying it on thick, but it's definitely a male energy I was tapping into. Mostly a healthy dose of arrogance. Maybe that sounds better? Male arrogance. Shoulders back, chin tilted up, slight bounce, and no sense of hurry. It's the urban hip hop variety but with less exaggeration? I don't know....
It's about to strike 6 and I'm deliriously ill. No one can hold me accountable for thinking YouTube is the real life Matrix, and yet somehow plugging in just got me crappy dating advice and pretty men on runways when all I wanted was an example of how some guys walk. Or something.
I think I need to go back to sleep. Revolution is coming, apparently. Little warriors need their rest.
4287546 I hope primarily for your health. It's okay if you miss the first wave of the revolution, Comrade. You can always join the People's militia of Dixie. We're slow and we have the best food. Please bring sweet tea if you think of it.
I kinda get what you mean. I was designated male at birth but that attitude has never really attracted me. The closest I get is when I walked in my duster down the old brick streets, and that was more casual than bold. But I also have made very few choices regarding presentation for non-laziness reasons.