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Subtle visual metaphor

"What do you think about fostering?" asks Amber. "Are you still interested in that?"

I freeze. "Cats?"

"No, children."

I blink at them, baffled. "What are you talking about?"

"I am assessing priorities. If we start fostering children, I would have to get a more flexible work schedule. We'd have to move into the studio, so we'd have to clean it up. Did you know they reimburse you for club fees and prom dresses?"

I am no less frozen. "I don't think about fostering."

Subtle visual metaphor

I am almost shaking driving to the Queer Board Game Night at Megabrain Comics in Rhinebeck. I had been looking forward to it all week and had been all but dancing at the idea of the friends we might make, though I did not actually expect this. I just liked to pretend.

Then, some asinine commercial came on and triggered me--it's not worth saying which. I would hate to give them publicity. Even if it didn't trigger me, I would want nothing to do with what it was selling.

Sometimes, I can downshift the trigger enough that it seems it doesn't bother me.

By the time Amber and I are parked, I am in the middle of a miserable fight, and nothing is objectively happening. I've said nothing to Amber, and they have not noticed. It is entirely in my mind and is not a fight with them.

2002.01.01

When I was just 17, a wee 17 indeed, I had Nick, Jen, and Coley over to my home for New Years Eve. [...] Coley had arrived first and was very much acting like an ex-girlfriend, but in a not terrible way. If she had shown half the passion and interest in me during our brief relationship that she did at that point, I might not have been quite so willing to kiss Jen.

You are a jerk.

Yes, Coley was reserved in a way that made you feel rejected, not that you could phrase it that way. It does not follow that she is remotely culpable for your cheating.

It boiled down to a physical chemistry with Jen (I don't know why) and her attending your high school. If Jen lived in Hyde Park and Coley lived in Beacon, I cannot believe you would have had occasion or much interest in cheating.
Keep reading... ]]> http://xenex.org/journal/200201-11r.php 27 Feb 2024 01:00:00 EST

Gaze not upon my hideous visage!

My nose is a different shape. Amber, who sees it more often than I do, has made no mention of it. They likely have not realized. The change must have been too gradual. I noticed six months ago when I pressed the bottom of it, and it didn't feel quite right. I'm aware that cartilage continues to grow as one ages, resulting in elders with protuberant schnozzes and ears like satellite dishes, but one never expects it to happen to one's own face.

I am a drunk?

My English 101 course is a trial, is pulling teeth, is a crucible. Half the students at my facility withdrew. Of those who remained, half failed. I am not sorry for this. They were not ready. Try again in a year when you can take this more seriously.

The college courses we offer are usually their first exposure to academic rigor. My 101 is ultimately not challenging, though they do not see it this way.

I opted not to use the bite picture

"You're Thomm," says the woman when I enter. I am unsure what description she has been given or if we have met. It is likely the latter, having attended a few of Amber's work excursions. "She's in one of the examining rooms."

I affirm that I am Thomm but do not correct the pronoun. I do not know how out Amber is at work about being nonbinary.

The woman says, "If you ask at the desk, they'll give you a pass."

"How" -- I sigh, finding no better way to phrase the question -- "what did it do to them?"

"There was a lot of blood," she says. "Once we cleaned it up a little... I don't think it is too bad."