titusnowl: (Default)
 trans* spaces that are intended for trans women are not intended for me, and i know this, it just takes me a while sometimes to realize that the space was for trans women and not all trans people, sorry
titusnowl: (Default)
my first apartment was really small, at least by the standards of living space observed in texas - there was a bedroom, a bathroom, a galley kitchen and a "main room" that had enough space for a dining table and a sofa and a television set. the way it was laid out, the wall my bed was pushed up against was half an interior wall shared with the living room, and half an exterior wall on the other side of which was the walkway where you'd stand while unlocking the door.

since it was my first time living alone and i have anxiety issues, i was always really careful to lock every single lock when i came home, and i always checked them before i went to bed: there was the lock that was controlled by the door key, and a second deadbolt that could only be accessed from inside, and a chain. the two deadbolts' locky-turny-things would end up perpendicular to each other once they were fastened, which made it easy for me to tell whether it was locked properly at a glance, but i'd always have to check and test it manually anyway, because of those anxiety issues.

one night i was in bed and i woke up because i'd heard a noise. i rolled over and tried to just fall back to sleep. hearing noises wasn't unusual - the apartment was in a pretty big city, and i grew up in a very rural area. the normal city sounds of traffic and such weren't normal to my ears yet, so i'd get woken up easily. no big deal.

then i heard someone messing with my door.

there was the slide and click of a deadbolt turning, and then the jingling thump-thump-thump of someone trying to open a door that was still locked.

i happened to own a metal baseball bat, and i got it out of the bedroom closet as slowly and quietly as i could, and then i chickened out - i couldn't bring myself to leave my bedroom. the living room window had a view of the walkway outside the apartment, and did not have curtains - i never did get around to buying any for that apartment; very bachelor-living. while going out there would let me look out to see if there was, in fact, somebody outside my apartment (probably just somebody who had the wrong apartment - maybe they were coming home drunk and were trying to unlock the wrong door, i told myself) it would also let anyone out there see in, because the venetian blinds didn't close all the way. i felt safer just waiting inside the bedroom, listening until whoever it was went away.

there was no more noise after that, and eventually i managed to fall asleep, still holding onto my baseball bat.

the next morning i woke up and went into the living room, where i found that, indeed, one of my deadbolts had been unlocked.

the one you could only access from inside the apartment.

(what i figure happened is i was only HALF-asleep for the first part, when i heard the noises, and the whole thing was influenced by anxiety - part of me remembered that i hadn't locked the second deadbolt, and so i freaked out in a dream state.)
titusnowl: (Default)
generally speaking i dont mind talking about being trans and being out as trans - i dont PASS, so i cant be STEALTH, so my options irl are either "come out" or "be called she", and the only times i dont opt for being out are the occasions where i feel i might be in danger if they know im a Queer Perverted Freak Of Nature Who Doesn't Know How To Be A Woman Properly; my position on outing myself may very well/probably WILL change once i DO pass because that changes the dynamic and the options available a lot

but i do def hate situations where i feel as if HAVE TO mention being trans and it's not "oh i will mention it because it's a part of my life" it's "i feel like i need to explain my genitalia in detail so other people don't make assumptions"

acknowledgement that the pressure is self-created and there have only been one or two occasions on which another living human being has interrogated me on the topic, tho
titusnowl: (Default)
thinking a lot trying to work through the feelings i have about having been a victim of sexual assault.Read more... )
titusnowl: (Default)
PERSON A: here is a bad thing that is happening!
PERSON B: bad things happen all the time you ignorant child why even bother getting upset about things that happen all the time you're such a bleeding heart crybaby sky is falling baw baw baw babychild jesus

person B can go to fucking hell
person B is all over metafilter in the form of at least six different people
person B is a failure of humanity
person B is why bad things keep happening without anyone trying to stop them

defeatism is fucking poison
im so sick of people
titusnowl: (Default)
my sister's daughter sent me a solicitation for magazine subscriptions via her girl scout troop
(sister assures me i dont need to order anything, she got the badge for proving she could address the envelopes and put them in the mail <:Vc)

it is the first piece of mail i have got that is addressed to "uncle lee"

:3
titusnowl: (Default)
whenever there's one of those questionnaire things going around n it's like what would you choose for your superpower i usually put smth else, i think, like flight or some shit idk being able to turn invisible

i never think of shapeshifting fsr nor any other power that wld be a solution for dysphoria n i think thats bc im kind of assuming that in this ideal superpower world i already managed that somehow - my make-believe/self-insert me is Just A Dude not a Trans Dude by default n always has been since before i realized i was not a girl myself :V

but like
no way ok
the ACTUAL superpower that i find myself actually wishing i had it on a regular basis
(but never remember when the question is raised)
is MULTIPLE MAN'S POWERS
i wanna be able
to punch myself in the face
four times
and have enough of myself
to play a full band
and sing multi-part harmony
with myself
because i want to play music
all the music
all of it
and
1. it is physically impossible to play complex lines on both guitar and piano at the same time
2. i can't sing two notes at once either
3. and to be honest im not a v good guitarist so a lot of the time with the, like, folk-influenced baroque pop i play (i feel so pretentious for using the complex genre term) i can play the guitar perfectly well if i concentrate on it but then the sung melody line is in a different rhythm and i fuck up if i try to do both at once and then im like I WISH I COULD PUNCH MYSELF RIGHT IN THE FACE AND THAT WOULD SOMEHOW SOLVE THIS PROBLEM
titusnowl: (Default)
tw: sexual assault, misogyny, transphobia, and shit

Read more... )
titusnowl: (Default)
trying not to overthink about the relationship, which means trying not to think about the relationship at all

made grown-up phone calls to do important household things & did not experience social anxiety about making the phone calls but then they ma'amed me repeatedly and that part sucked

titusnowl: (Default)
finally deleted my tumblr which was definitely a thing i needed to do

but i need a place where i can write down some things so i can look at them later and be reminded that i have accomplished things and stuff

so i will use this

---

today's good things and accomplishments:
  • i followed up on the plumber for the fourth day in a row and this time he actually came out, so we have running water again
  • and i did not experience significant anxiety or panic about dealing with the plumbers when they showed up
  • i also called the city sanitation department to get information about getting rid of a bunch of cardboard boxes we've had stacked in the living room for months because my roommates are hoarders, and it turns out there are NO special requirements at all, so i can take care of them and get them carted off without assistance on the next pickup day
  • AND during the phone call i got more information about the recycling program and we will have a free recycling bin by next wednesday, which will hopefully help contain the mess in the future
  • i cleaned up four bags of trash from the living room and the bathroom
the bathroom trash incidentally
is my least favorite thing
because ok i have two roomates, a cis dude and a cis girl, the cis dude is cool but OH MY GOD the girl
she throws her used pads and pantiliners and tampons and stuff TOWARD the trash can
she does not make sure they go INTO the trash can
and when i confront her about "hey, can you clean up the bathroom trash because there's a lot of... used pads and i don't really want to touch those"
she implies
that my transgender status
has made me
unhealthily uncomfortable
with vaginas
NO
MY STATUS AS A HUMAN BEING
MAKES ME
HEALTHILY UNCOMFORTABLE
WITH HANDLING OTHER PEOPLE'S BIOLOGICAL WASTE PRODUCTS
REGARDLESS OF THE ORIFICE OF THEIR ORIGIN
THANK YOU

but whatever she WILL NOT do it herself so i put on gloves and did it myself
titusnowl: (Default)
theres probably a way i could set up some kind of weird internet autorepeater

tumblr has a setup to autotweet links to yr posts & surely smth exists to forward a tweet to a dreamwidth journal

but that would be like .... effort

i would feel wicked engineery

my super sekrit tumblr is at whisperingvictory tho

i post words there

not used to lj format anymore find myself writing weirdly telegraphically


i should write about how much i love hurdy-gurdies. oh my god i bet if i really tried hard i could make a post about hurdy-gurdies that might be worthy of the blue. i bet there's already been a metafilter post about hurdy-gurdies though. good christ on a tit i love hurdy-gurdies THE DECEMBERISTS HAVE AN ELECTRIC ONE someday im going to build one if i wasn't such lazy shit about woodworking (i wonder if you can use oak for that, i have access to some old oak) HURDY GURDIES



titusnowl: (LASERWOL)
they better not delete this
titusnowl: (mad bolshevik)
Jens, despite all of his tactical genius, had managed to catch the corner of a bolter round from somewhere during the dust-up earlier. Haas had patched him up first before looking over everybody else's cuts and scrapes, and although the bandage showed white through the hole in his uniform and he'd be swinging his sword with his off hand for a while, the dose of pijnstell he'd been forced to take had left him more comfortable than any of the rest of them were for the moment. He didn't seem to appreciate this advantage much. Somehow his wound was Sander's fault; Sander was loudly disappointed that it hadn't been fatal; Brekt had gotten fed up with playing the net in their tennis game and had volunteered himself for guard duty, and Duiker was almost ready to go out and join him despite having only just found a way to lie down that didn't put weight on any of the collection of bruises he'd picked up during a hasty descent off a roof he'd been sniping from.

bickering, cuddling, et cetera )
titusnowl: (Harper's Jig)
another of my Errant Valour stories (first, second). this is a prequel and takes place when brekt was around

Read more... )
titusnowl: (Great War)
so jen and i saw sherlock holmes: a game of shadows yesterday on a whim because we happened to drive past the movie theatre and realize it had come out
i didn't hate it
i didn't like it as much as the first one but i didn't hate it

except that unexpectedly that scene that was shown in the trailer where they're running through the woods while being shot at made me have a panic attack because the setting looked like the great war

i hate having that reaction to things; it's so fucking illogical, i have no reason to react that way to wwi, this wasn't even actually wwi and it leaves me feeling stupid for days
titusnowl: (mad bolshevik)
The first five people (in theory) to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble/ficlet of any pairing/character of their choosing.

Please include a prompt of some kind, whether that's a full prompt or just a word or a song or something. Hopefully the character/pairing you want will be one I'm familiar with.
titusnowl: (new york city)

The middle of a heat wave in Eburd. The temp report on the reader had been bugged for three days, flickering between 244 and 01, so nobody knew exactly how hot it was - except “too hot.” The neighborhood cisterns were on a rolling shutdown, each block getting water for two-hour intervals, and caravans of kids with wagons full of bottles and jugs were snaking under the river every night and breaking open service spigots in the milzone. All the fans in the neighborhood were pulling hard on the generators, too, and although they hadn’t put those on rolling shutdown yet, it had been openly discussed on freenet as a Good Idea to not run any unnecessary equipment until further notice. Just the fridge, a couple of fans, lamps in occupied rooms at night, and use as much solar gen as you have access to. Brownouts happened anyway. You could make decent money selling ice cubes if your freezer managed to stay cold.

Wren had moved the chickens off the roof and out of the sun. His kitchen was overrun with them now, and even his bedroom wasn’t safe - Hellbitch and the Demon Whore followed at his heels and ran flapping over his feet into the room every time he opened the door. The birds were all over the stairwell too. The door to his music loft was closed, and an amplifier dragged in front of it to make sure it stayed that way, but he could hear clucking on the other side of it.

Most of the front wall of the loft was windows. Only one of them had glass in it, but Wren pried the boards off of the others and left them stacked against the wall. No refreshing breezes came in, and he almost felt like it was hotter outside than in - a fucking waste of effort, letting all the heat in to his studio.  The acoustics were probably getting warped.

He picked one up to test it out. It was slightly out of tune, and he fixed it dourly, certain this was a sign of Things to Come. Watch it just slide right back out of tune as soon as he started playing it. Strings probably melting. Wood all fucked up from the heat.

He kicked a chair over into a patch of shadow at the edge of the window light, sat down, and played.

Nothing in particular. A couple of the old classics to limber up. A few of his own things. Then just noodling. He ran into something interesting involving a D chord and some hammering on the high E, switch to a G, repeat; he played around with that, found some complements to it. It started to take shape pretty well. He paused long enough to reach into a crate behind him, find a tambourine, and throw it on the ground by his chair. Back to playing, and in his mind he built up a decent drumline for it, ghosting it in by tapping his foot on the floor and kicking the tambourine at intervals. There were a few ways a melody could go for this, and he tested some of them out. Not even trying for lyrics - the words coming out of his mouth were just complaints about the heat - but the tune would hold up, if he found the right one.

He was almost happy with it when he realized Them Fuckin’ Kids were outside. Outside and shouting words at his window, no less. Wren hadn’t even felt the little shits, he’d been so caught up in the music. He dropped the guitar and stood, leaned out of one of the windows, pushed sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes so he could glare more effectively. “I AIN’T OPEN TODAY. GO HOME. It’s too fuckin’ hot to work. Shit’s probably gonna cook off on its own anyway, blow my whole fuckin’ house up. Go away.”

They grinned up at him. Fresh’s mohawk was limp and drooping at the ends, the glue softened by the heat. Dandy’s hat was missing, and he and Spit had freezer bags tied to their heads with wet handkerchiefs. They all looked ridiculous, and they were way too cheerful for living in an oven. Fresh even waved at him. “That was a really cool song!”

“I ain’t playin’ it for you!”

titusnowl: (Kincaid's stolen donkey)
DOCTOR ZIMBARDO posted:
 if i ever get to play rogue trader again my rogue trader is going to have a kroot manservant named krootick who fetches him roasted cheeses and does his laundry and also disposes of bodies

BSAKat posted:
"Krootrick! Krootrick, there!"
"What now...My Lord?"
 "Light along that toasted cheese, you hear me there? And bring it in the gilded ork skull salvers! Bear a hand now, bear a hand."
"Which I'm bringing it, ain't I? And you can't have it on the skull salvers since we lost them in the last warp incursion." Said Krootrick with surly triumph...

Benagain posted:
If I ever play Rogue Trader again my seneschal will be named Maturin.

Italic Squirrels posted:
And doing everything in the name of Catachan independence.
titusnowl: (spongebob is texas)
We had a cookout last night. I'm pretty amused by this picture: I've got a smoke and a beer and  a Coldplay t-shirt and something is on fire. If I'd been wearing my tin 'at, it would be the epitome of owl.jpg




(also one of my friends saw it on facebook and her boyfriend looked at it and assumed I was a guy, which made me happy. i passed in a photo to a stranger! :V)

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titus n. owl

February 2015

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