So last night I saw Beginners (Ccaptain Von Trapp, you got old!) which was not as sad as one might expect from a movie about a man dying of cancer. I'm going to see X-Men tonight, because apparently it is my week o' queer movies -- I mean, what. ;D
I've also started following Genderfork on twitter, which makes me all kinds of happy.
I ordered a binder online this week and it arived today, so naturally I had to spend half an hour trying on clothes and grinning stupidly at the way they fit differently. ...and then I almost broke my arm trying to take the fucking thing off, but whatever.
Last Saturday at queer discussion group I spent a lot of time trying to explain my thoughts on the gender binary and how it doesn't even make that much sense when all gender is perceived, performative, immitative, and changes depending on time and culture, anyway. I'm not sure I got my point across because I was kind of feeling the beer I had with dinner and half way to passing out from heat stroke, plus it's way easier to talk about all this shit in theory, or in my own head, but actually coming out and saying 'oh btw I identify as psychologically androgynous even though I wear skirts and dresses lots of the time' is apparently still not something I can do without hiding behind academic theory.
I've got my tickets booked for my semester in Lancaster. I leave campus on a Friday a week before Christmas and my flight back to Canada doesn't leave until super-early Sunday morning out of Manchester. I have no idea what I'm going to do with myself that Saturday, and also I transfer at heathrow and I am going to get lost in that airport for ever, you guys. It's fucking massive, last time I was there we almost got lost on one of the buses between terminals, and that time I was with my parents. Doing this in the middle of winter with three months of baggage, on my own, and using a cane (ahaha did I mention I retired my guide dog, because that happened) is going to result in my life turning into one of those movies about living in an airport.
My roommate and his boyfriend of like forever broke up a couple weeks ago. They were engaged and everything, so that was... ok, it wasn't unexpected, no one could actually see them making it to the wedding. But now there's that awkward stage where they have mostly the same social group and their lives are still ridiculously intertwined and they're trying not to bitch about each other to any of their mutual friends and trying to get along at various social functions, etc. My roommate's brother and I are stuck right in the centre, because he works for my roommate's ex, and while my roommate and I have a siblingish relationship, I'm probably better friends with and have more in common with his ex (and by better friends with I mean is one of my best friends). So there's that.
People are trying to convince me to come hang out in Mexico and do a three-day novel writing challenge in September. And one of the reasons their using is 'nobody has time to write, this will force us to do it!' and I would really like to say 'actually i've written 25000 words in the last couple months', but then they'd ask to see or ask what it's about and ahahahahaha yeah no, actually, most of my real life friends do not need to know that I'm writing bandfic. And I've never had any particular desire to go to Mexico, I melt in the heat.