humidity. bah.

Long, slow, stinking hot and humid day. Got absolutely nothing done. Except shaving my legs. I did manage to shave my legs. And I didn't even cut myself badly, so go me! (Re cuts: Am the clumsiest leg shaver ever. Really. Once gave myself a three-inch slice that I easily convinced people was from a barbed-wire fence.)

I hate summer. It means I have to shave my legs for certain outfits. Not that I really care about being in step with social expectations in theory, but I have discovered that in practice, I feel really uncomfortable when people shoot me weird looks if I have hairy legs. And I do have hairy legs, and it's dark hair, and it grows fast.

Which is utterly unfair, since my mom and sister have this thin, almost invisible blond body hair, that takes about a week before it's even noticeable. You can see mine two days later.

The universe just hates me, I guess.

But there were thunderstorms this afternoon, which is generally a good thing. I love the way the air smells after a thunderstorm. Very crisp, and somehow new. Maybe it's residual ozone from the lightning?

Anyway, I hate humidity. I don't like feeling this washed out and weighed down unless I've done hard exercise to justify it.

humidity. bah.

Long, slow, stinking hot and humid day. Got absolutely nothing done. Except shaving my legs. I did manage to shave my legs. And I didn't even cut myself badly, so go me! (Re cuts: Am the clumsiest leg shaver ever. Really. Once gave myself a three-inch slice that I easily convinced people was from a barbed-wire fence.)

I hate summer. It means I have to shave my legs for certain outfits. Not that I really care about being in step with social expectations in theory, but I have discovered that in practice, I feel really uncomfortable when people shoot me weird looks if I have hairy legs. And I do have hairy legs, and it's dark hair, and it grows fast.

Which is utterly unfair, since my mom and sister have this thin, almost invisible blond body hair, that takes about a week before it's even noticeable. You can see mine two days later.

The universe just hates me, I guess.

But there were thunderstorms this afternoon, which is generally a good thing. I love the way the air smells after a thunderstorm. Very crisp, and somehow new. Maybe it's residual ozone from the lightning?

Anyway, I hate humidity. I don't like feeling this washed out and weighed down unless I've done hard exercise to justify it.

thoughts on slash and stuff

Random aside: Am eating squid and assorted unidentifed vegetables for my very belated dinner. I have become oddly enamored of squid, at least as cooked by the local Chinese take-out.

Anyway, having written an entire 4,000+ story, Wearing Thin, to deal with some of my issues about slash, I felt I had to post this, taken from a Stargate SG-1 fic:

( excerpt from Keiko Kirin's More Steak )

which is one of the best treatments of one of my slash peeves ever. The whole "I'm not actually gay, I just like this particular person who just happens to be male" attitude. Because really, it seems awfully odd. And kind of weird. Because why are writers so reluctant to declare the characters bisexual, at least? It's as if slashers sometimes seem to think that having the characters be vehemently straight, but willing to make an exception for this one person, somehow makes their love more pure or transcendant or something.

Which just baffles me, really. Because if you like someone of the same gender, then you are kind of by definition at least somewhat bisexual/homosexual. That's just a technical description. It doesn't mean you have to buy into a subculture or anything. Heck, I occasionally catch myself watching women and I once had a teeny little bit of a thing for one of my friends. Which means I have some minor bisexual leanings. Which I admit. See? It's not hard.

And anyway, love is love is love. It's not as if admitting to some obvious potential bisexuality (if the characters have previously only had heterosexual relationships) is going to make their love any less real. So why be so afraid of the words?

Just one of the many things that occasionally baffle me about fandoms.

(For the full story and Keiko Kirin's other works, go here.)

thoughts on slash and stuff

Random aside: Am eating squid and assorted unidentifed vegetables for my very belated dinner. I have become oddly enamored of squid, at least as cooked by the local Chinese take-out.

Anyway, having written an entire 4,000+ story, Wearing Thin, to deal with some of my issues about slash, I felt I had to post this, taken from a Stargate SG-1 fic:

( excerpt from Keiko Kirin's More Steak )

which is one of the best treatments of one of my slash peeves ever. The whole "I'm not actually gay, I just like this particular person who just happens to be male" attitude. Because really, it seems awfully odd. And kind of weird. Because why are writers so reluctant to declare the characters bisexual, at least? It's as if slashers sometimes seem to think that having the characters be vehemently straight, but willing to make an exception for this one person, somehow makes their love more pure or transcendant or something.

Which just baffles me, really. Because if you like someone of the same gender, then you are kind of by definition at least somewhat bisexual/homosexual. That's just a technical description. It doesn't mean you have to buy into a subculture or anything. Heck, I occasionally catch myself watching women and I once had a teeny little bit of a thing for one of my friends. Which means I have some minor bisexual leanings. Which I admit. See? It's not hard.

And anyway, love is love is love. It's not as if admitting to some obvious potential bisexuality (if the characters have previously only had heterosexual relationships) is going to make their love any less real. So why be so afraid of the words?

Just one of the many things that occasionally baffle me about fandoms.

(For the full story and Keiko Kirin's other works, go here.)