Monday, April 13, 2009

Being a boy apparently has expectations of growing into a man.

After weeks of feeling sick, I still do. I previously said that it felt like my ears were bleeding and hey guess what! It turns out that they were! The first dose of anti-biotics my doctor prescribed to me to fix my infected ears had a tiny little chemical that we didn't know I was allergic to until they wore down the walls of my eardrums. One morning I woke up (at my mother's house, where I'd been hiding and whinging for quite some time) to find blood all over my pillow. Being in the middle of my second puberty, I automatically assumed I'd busted a massive zit, thought nothing more of it, flipped my pillow over and went back to sleep. When I got up to wee a few hours later, I walked past the mirror and took a quick glance at myself. Then I had another take and looked at my hair. Theeeennnnnn I noticed I looked like little Timmy from Jurassic Park just after he'd been electrocuted because he wouldn't jump off that damn electric fence. Crusty blood just dribblin' out my ear holes.

So over the last ten days I haven't really been doing anything. I taught Bill Murray to lay down for food and he looks so so so confused while he does it. Snacking and laying down don't go together for him like they do for me. I spent a lot of time asleep and a lot of time wishing I were asleep. I lived off pancakes, wine and failed attempts of vegan omlettes. I watched a lot of lesbian themed coming-of-age movies from my mother's dvd collection and I thought a lot about my past.

I remember feeling so insecure about letting my mother know that I was dating a girl. I didn't know why I felt weird about it or why I didn't want her to know, because I knew she'd be fine with it (if not proud) because she thought I was female and she's pro lezza. I felt weird because the girls who I hung out with at underage gay things all had stories about when they came out to their parents. I'd look online and read other out of the closet stories and feel like I was supposed to tell my gay mums that I too was a lesbian (yes, that exact title) but didn't feel comfortable doing it.

So one day, 7 or so months into a relationship with my first real love, I came home to find mum baking biscuits in the kitchen. I ran through to the bathroom and shouted
"GEORGIE ASKED ME OUT TODAY", knowing that it was against the rules to talk to someone while they were on the toilet in that house. Without hesitation, my mother broke that rule she'd so sternly placed a good five years back and flung open the toilet floor while I was sitting to wee.
With that rebellious young streak that all teens have, I mumbled
"Fuck off mum, I'm not gay".

Mum used to complain a little to her friends with gay children about me never coming out to her properly. Since then, I've come out as a boy, a faggot, a queer, a tranny, a chubster and a slutforthemoney. I reckon I've made it up to her.

On Wednesday night I'm seeing Nikki Patin. SWOOON.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Bill Murray.

probably my favourite boy ever and the only one i never stand up.

Srsly Fk.

I haven't been this sick in five million brazillion hours. My ears feel like they're bleeding and the only things I can swallow are delicious iceypoles made by very un-delicious companies. My nose is starting to clear up though, which is real nice, because I hadn't felt that clogged since when I would eat like 394790432293 dairy products a day. Last night I was giving myself my shot but I was shaking way too much so Melissa helped out (She was at my house because I nagged her for about five hours to bring me lemonade. Nice lady, nice lady). It was the most stressful event of my day. I broke the vial with my left thumb and glass shattered and went everywhere, including into me.

Melissa distracted me from my throbbing headache by discussing other things that made me throb. We talked about the hot boys in our life and how she's always read as straight. I talked about the boy I asked on a date when I was out clubbing and stood him up the next day because I had no recolection of him thanks to binge drinking. After Melissa'd gone home, I watched some pilates infomercials and felt bad about my body so went to bed. When I woke up this morning (at about 8) I put Bill Murray outside and had a wee then went back to bed. I re-woke up to thunder and lightening and rain and hail and the house half flooded and a very grumpy dalmation (too dumb to figure out how to use his kennel) looking in through the window at me, soaking wet.

Bill Murray looks heaps weird when he's wet because all of his spots that are on his skin but not on his coat, show through and he looks like a multi-layered creature. Kinda like if you wet a marble spongecake and squish it a bit. He's all kinda grey and dirty looking. He's currently on the couch next to me, having a dream. Little barks and a lot of running. I love him so much. I feel real bad that I slept so late and that he had to be outside in the storm. He seems fine now though.

I feel like crap. I'm gonna curl up, watch Oprah and most probably get annoyed at it. I think it's a make-over special. If I hear one comment about "hiding fat" or losing weight, I'm going to kill someone. Holy crap. As I typed that, Oprah said something about the clothes draping around your body, no matter what your size. Fuck that.

Srsly Fk.

I can't stop crying.