masculinity

Man good discussion on the nebulous feminism post. I am enjoying that. Man, if I'd written that essay, that'd be great. Maybe I will someday.

Related but different topic:
Customer on phone with other customer service girl. After he hangs up, she's all, "He kept being like, this is so expensive my wife is going to kill me, and I was all, No way does he have a wife, he sounded gayer than any gay guy I even know." And we got into a discussion on whether you could really tell or not.
(For the record, the guy called back and I took the call, and my judgment was that no, he wasn't gay, he was just from Manhattan, and no, there's not much difference really, not aurally anyway.)
"It's that metrosexual thing," one coworker said.
"That is so not my scene," said the shipping coordinator. "I want a man who'll beat the crap out of me."
There was a long pause.
"Er," she said, "who could."

I mean, I can see her point, sure. There's something about a big rugged masculine manly man who can sling you over his shoulder or whatever. Though the fact that I'm the size I am means that for that to work I'd need a 300-pound gorilla, and you know, I think, you know, that's OK, I don't really, yeah.
Obviously that's not my type.
(Though I've noticed in my novels a lot of times the hero is a big burly dude, or at least tall. I think my next hero is going to be short, or at least skinny. zomg time to squee over nicholas from Death of the Necromancer again, guys, and the scene where he's being escorted under guard and looks around and all the guards are like twice his size and heavily armed and he makes a joke to them about it... and then takes their lieutenant hostage once they've stopped paying attention to him)



Me, I'm sitting here inwardly squeeing over how friggincute it is when Z refers to Chita as "our furbaby". I know he's being mostly ironic but I think it's hilarious. Also last night while he was shopping online for sheets he said "Sometimes I wish I was gay so I could order towels monogrammed 'His' and 'His'."

Yeah, I know there's not much deep gender theory in this post but that's sort of my life at the moment. If there's something deep it's probably buried.

ow

Ow i just bit the shit out of the inside of my lip. Like, bit until it crunched the tissue.
Blood.

Motherfuck! Why do I gotta have teeth like a predator? I don't kill my own food. This is unnecessary.
God damn canine fangs.

In other news I'm totally unable to focus at the moment.
I figure Z and I should Go Out To Dinner near his workplace, since we don't have to rush home to Feed Kitty, who is Living It Up at the vet's office but why haven't they called me yet to tell me how the surgery went? :/
Not worrying. Not me! I'm not worrying. They're more likely to have called if something went wrong than otherwise, right???
But they said they'd call...

dork

I am happily spending a quiet evening at home with Z after having a nice leisurely dinner out because we didn't have to rush home to feed the cat.

It is absurd that I keep having to distract myself from missing my cat.
Jesus.
I'll get her back tomorrow.

I just wandered forlornly through the house squeaking, "Where my Chita?", which is usually what I say when I get home. It has a lot of phonemes that the cat responds to. She's the most responsive-to-her-name cat I know, but then, I've known other cats who responded to noises similar to her name spontaneously, so it just happens to be a very good cat name in terms of what human speech-noises cats hear.

I've been trying to write but it hasn't really worked, so I gave up and zoned way out into the fiftieth reread of Necromancer trying to puzzle just what it is that I love so much about every single little part of it.
(I also reread a bit of Gate of Gods and decided that Madame Cusard must be Lamane's wife, as the younger man who is her nephew has "his grandfather's nose", and the grandfather must be none other than Cusard.)

Where my Chita?