Severely Lacking - Name My Bat

Apologies for my lack of posts recently. I have been ill and tired and, you know, all of those excuses. In the words of Sam Vimes, though, if you'll do it with a good excuse, soon enough, you'll be doing it with a bad excuse. My low lucidity is not helping me out too much. I am very much losing grip on reality, but I get some cool colours, i suppose. It's the whole "when fantasy characters from books wander about the place" thing that is a bit concerning.

One day, you'll wake up, and she'll be on
your loo.

 Anyway, went to market today with Sary. Pictures later.

Name my new Babybat! He needs a really mallgothy, babybatty OH SO DARK name, and must end with "the babybat". :3

Also, I am now following this blag, which is where I got the Nanny Ogg picture from. Whilst not a pagan myself, I always wished I could be. I just can't suspend my disbelief enough. Besides, I just think it's neat.

Damn You, Spotlight!

I caught the bus into Nowra this afternoon, to go to Spotlight (craft, fabric, etc store) to buy the materials I needed to make contest stuff.

Four metres of pinstripe. two of black, two of  tulle, two of cord, two of ribbon and an eyelet plier set later, I had two dollars left in my bank account.

Fuck.

So happy, though. I'm staying at Heather's tonight and not going to school tomorrow. You can probably guess why. Plus, it's too hard to organise getting home. So yeah, staying with heather for loves.

That's about all that's going on. More interesting post about the package I got later.

Much love. :3

I'd like to be treated like a person.

But I can't see that happening any time soon.

So, I was going to make this really cute post of photos of myself when I was little. Instead I'm going to have a little rant and cry a bit.

My sister makes me feel horrible. Every time I ask for something, she acts like i'm a disgusting burden. I ask to come with her to do stuff when her boyfriend is around - the only time she actually does anything - and she says no because she wants to see him and spend all her time with him because she doesn't know when next she'll see him (it'll be the next weekend. it's always the next weekend). Whenever i just want to talk to her, she'll just ignore me and play with her phone and then kind of say "yeah" sometimes. Just now, I asked if she would drive me to school tomorrow. She went on a big rant about how exhausted she was and how she didn't want to have to do anything. I made the point that it really hurts to have to walk that far every day, and feeling so sick every day. She then started to rave when I walked away, saying "and now you're just gonna walk away and not go at all".

Here's a fucking newsflash for you. I don't have to go to school. I choose to. I wanted to go today. And I couldn't because of how sick I was this morning.

I told her just that. She then started going on about how I never do housework. Here's the funny thing. Just because you never look at me and never notice when I do things, does not mean I don't do them. I make dinner for myself most nights. I wash up my plates and cups every time I use them. I feed and water the animals. I check the animals for ticks and parasites. I babysit your fucking kids every time you ask, not because I want to, but because if I ever said no, you'd scream at me and make me feel horrible. I never go anywhere. I stay home. I sit in my room. I have less than any grip on reality. I never sleep, no matter what I do. You think your teenage demons were bad? Try having ones you can see.

No matter how you ridicule me, Courtney, no matter how you go on about how I'm obsessed with whatever, that I'm too over-the-top, that i'm ungrateful, whatever, it's not going to be made up for by the very few nice things you say to me. The kind of things you've been saying to me lately, the way you've been treating me, you probably won't ever make that up to me.

You say that Shaun and I are obsessed with one another. It's not like you're obsessed with your boyfriend or anything. It's not like you wrap his shirt around your pillow and spray it with his cologne or anything. It's not like you call him all the time and ignore everyone, including your children, to talk to him. I get it. He's the current love of your life. I fucking understand you've had shit boyfriends. But does that mean no one else matters? Does this mean I'm not worth existing?

When I walk around being me, guys, it's not anyone else's opinions or scrutiny that bothers me. It's my sister's. When she says something horrible to me, or gives me a negative comment, I cry. I really do. Pretty much every time. No one else's opinions matter to me this much. Not my parent's, not my friend's. Maybe Shaun's, but even then.

So go ahead. Make fun of me for having to find something to obsess over and be consumed in. Say I'm obsessed with the cats. Say I'm obsessed with Pratchett. Say I'm obsessed with Shaun. Do you know what? Not everyone has a good reality they can be obsessed with. Not everyone has such a oh so perfect boyfriend. Not everyone is finishing highschool because they want to go to university and have a future.

I just don't understand that, whenever I ask for something, I'm the worst person in the world, but whenever I try and leave, I'm not a burden at all. I am forced to stay here, and most of the time, I feel like I'm dying, and I wish I was being melodramatic. I feel so out-of-place and like the whole world is against me. I am losing grip on reality, to the point I couldn't even tell you how many real people are in the room.

Do you know the worst part, guys? The worst part is, my sister will never read this. My sister will never know what she's doing to me, until it's gone too far.

I just hope i can get through.

Much love.

Gender, Sex and Society - Response

Our darling Ashlee at A Mortal Doth Approach recently made this post about parents raising a genderless baby. The family have decided to keep the child's sex a secret and let it choose its own gender. I thought to clarify this, as ashlee did.

Sex is what you have downstairs. It's what's in your pants. It's your sex bits. Gender is what you are in your brain, and in your heart. Most people connect the two, saying, "well, i'm a girl downstairs, so therefore, i am female", or, i have a dick. so i'm a dude". But then there are others, who have the opposite bits to who they feel they are. There are more people, still, who are genderless - or just don't seem to fit in to any or all stereotypes.

People are furious over this, saying that they're screwing up their child. I fail to see how - they're not telling their child, "You are a boy. You must play with trucks" or "You are a girl. You must play with barbies". I was not raised genderless, however, I was not told that i must be one or another. I was allowed to pick my own gender, and I feel that made me a stronger person. I played with dinosaurs. I loved bugs and dirt. I played with the boys, and avoided the girls (they were always so much more judgemental).

I commend this decision. A child will pick what it wants to do. They're saying that it's wrong because the child has no choice - but by making the choice not to tell the child how to be, they will become however they want to be. They will choose how they will be. They wanted to keep it a secret because they didn't want the child to conform to gender stereotype - and the fact is, Storm will choose to conform to whatever Storm wishes. The parents aren't imposing. They're giving the child the freedom to say "This is who I am, and no one can tell me otherwise".

Who is society to tell a small child who they must be? Who is so upright that they can say that if a baby is a girl, then a baby must act like a girl.

As a child, my parents let me do as I please when it came to gender. I am a girl. I am happy to be one. However, when I was little, I wore boy's clothes, played with dinosaurs and had a total aversion to the colour pink. Because of this freedom, despite scrutiny from others, I was able to choose who I am. I have been allowed to say, "I am a girl, and I am female." Because of freedom as a child, I have grown up to be the best I can be under the circumstances.

Stop critisising these parents. What's the difference between raising the child to choose, and raising the child to be a girly girl who does women-only jobs, or a boy who is grubby and rough?

It stems from outdated gender stereotypes. Women are to stay home and squeeze out babies and make dinner every day. Men are to go out and work, and come home to their wives and children and be worshipped. As I mentioned on Ashlee's post, I am rather the former kind of girl - but I had the right to choose this. Everyone should have the right to choose.

I have been told i'm "anti-feminist" because I wish to stay home and have kids and make lovely dinners. How so? I support other women's choices. Want to work and have kids? Good for you. Want to just work and not have a family? It's your choice. I have chosen. Do not tell me my choice is wrong.

I don't understand how women can turn on other women for their choices that are well within the rights that were fought for. Women who work and have kids are called neglectful by stay-at-home mothers. Women who stay at home are called anti-feminist. Women who do not have children are selfish. Muslim women who choose to wear a headscarf are told they're anti-feminist and backward and controlled. The headscarf is a choice, just like the clothes anyone else chooses to wear. Women who wear particularly alluring clothes or low-cut blouses, or who use their sex-appeal in any way are slutty. How? Women are sexy creatures. How is it horrible to use what we were born with, like intelligence or a rich family? Does it make you anti-feminist to be a proud and sexy woman? No, not at all. It is your choice to choose who you are.

Why are women divided over such things? Jobs, homes, husbands, children, possessions, money? I am not poor. You are not rich. We are women. Stop being so caught up and jealous and petty. Women, across all countries, cultures, societies and mammal species are amazing, strong and the backbone of the group. Remember this.

Stop being so caught-up over things that don't matter. We are women. Hear us roar.

I'm A Spoiled Cat (Buy From These Guys)

Update on Sunday again - the goggle-eyed kitty is doing just fine and is coming home this afternoon. Thanks to the vet and of course my saviours, Phillip and Celia Webb of the Salvation Army. Donate to the Red Shield Appeal, these guys do such good work.

My Shaun spoils me. He really does. I think he forgets I loved him when he was broke, too. Is it strange, that someone can be the love of your life, without you being in love with them? I think so. I don't know what he thinks, but I think I'll hear it soon enough.

Here's what he bought me today, from Lovechild Boudoir.

Carnival Queen Two-Piece Skirt

Such a beautiful piece, for only 79.99GBP (great british pounds, if you don't know). That is an excellent price, and it's just so beautiful. If you took the same item,made it in America, gave it a horrid floral pattern and slapped "Civil War" on it, it'd quadruple in price. I love the pattern, too. It's just gorgeous.

Nights at the Circus Gothic Posture Collar

I mainly got this becuase it was a sale item. 4.99GBP, instead of its usual 9.99GBP. It also matches the skirt. I love posture collars, and this one is just so cute! Sary has a posture collar, and it's pinstripe and everything, so I hope to borrow it when we go put this weekend to the market (pliz? :3).

So excited. Thankyou so much, Growlithe. <3

<3

Vaguely an outfit post

Just an update, Sunday is doing very well in kitty-hospital. Twelve weeks old today.

Today, dad and i went for a bikeride to the next town and had burgers.

It defeated me.

After biking home, exhausted, I had a shower (burned my hands) and got ready to go out to see some bands at the golf club. I wore....

My new jacket with super-long sleeves, my corset, my pinstripe skirt and my pinstripe bustle. I was all pinstripe. It was amazing. I decided on big black goth eyes, which I didn't get a photo of, and when I got home I went HGNK EYES and rubbed them all over the place. Had my hair in a fally-outy topbun, because i could.

Jesse Bowker (one of the members of the band I went to see, he and i are good friends) and I shared a jug of pup squash. Goth as Fuck.

 Here's the best picture I could get of Jesse and Sam's band, Lost in Verona. They were brilliant, I bought their CD and cassette. Go look them up, they're brilliant.


Now I'm at home with my cats, it's raining, and franky is inside cuddling close. So yeah.


Don't forget about my website, and I'm working on some new very special stuff, particularly Amy at the Ultimate Goth Guide's thank-you prize. Bustles are going up for sale on the site for $25, and the jacket for $22.80.


Bloggers get free bows!


Much love.

Sunday and the Salvation Army

As you know, I have many kitties, one of which is named Sunday, who is a ginger-cream tabby. He's odd, long-faced and has enormous eyes. He also has tick paralysis.

I'm home alone for the weekend, and here was one of my kittens, stumbling around. My next door neighbour Bernie helped me get it off (it was on the back of his tail, and he made an awful racket when I tried to remove it myself). My hands were totally shredded, and i managed to get my own blood everywhere. I came home, put Sunday on my sister's bed and laid down with him until he went to sleep. Babies are all the same. He just needed a cuddle to get him off to sleep. After some calling around and fiddling, I'd managed to get a vet to meet me at the Bay and Basin clinic, and ordered a cab to get there. When I was walking down to the shop to get some money out for the cab, I met up with the Salvation Army people, an older couple, Celia and Phillip Webb.

The most amazing thing happened then. They offered to drive me to the vet.

I was thrilled and taken so off-guard by this offer and this kindness. I went home, packed Sunday up in a basket and blanket that smelled like mummy, and they took me out to the Bay and Basin vet.

The first thing the vet said to me when we got there was, "...he's got big eyes, doesn't he?"

I couldn't find a justifying picture,
so here's this.

I laughed. His eyes are enormous. Like, huge.

She was trying to give him a look over, but it wasn't helpful that our little twelve-week-old kitten kept crawling over to me and trying to crawl into my shirt. He made some god-awful noises, too. Some scared the vet a little bit.

He should be okay, but is staying there for a day or two. Celie and Phillip (and their little dog Lucy) gave me a lift home. I gathered my kitties all together, and brought them inside for a check-over and a cuddle.

It was a rough day. I have proof.

I have a triangular-shaped hole on my other hand.
Can't get a good picture of it.

Much love. :3

...much worry...