kitsjay: (Cheers)
In case you were wondering why you still follow me on livejournal, it's because I'm looking up how much it costs for a fake wig and where the nearest thrift store is to buy a peach and/or magenta monstrosity of a bridesmaid's gown just because you never know when that shit might come in handy.

That's why.


Christy and I are going to make Gay Christmas cards using an appalling amount of glitter and possibly sequins, depending on whether or not she decides to let me near scissors again. If anyone wants one, let me know--if you don't want one... challenge accepted.


I keep staring at my Gmail, which wants me to mark things I think are important. Seriously, I already have a folder called "Need to Reply" where good emails go to die because I never, ever open that sucker, and I don't think Gmail can take the pressure of figuring out what I consider "important" or not.

Scratch that, just realized that if it has any talk of money in it not immediately preceded by "shake that" and followed by "maker", it's probably not important, and if it mentions "nnngh" and a link to BCoop tumblrs, it totally is important.

I'm all about prioritizing, guys.


The meme has been so slow lately, and I'm all, "C'mon, someone update!" before remembering that I haven't updated in roughly forever and so am contributing to the problem but then realized that I am me and this is to be expected, but these other people should totally be more responsible and feed my slash addiction. There is no methadone for this, people. You are literally killing me here.
kitsjay: (Crazy People)
I've been going through a depressive spell recently, which, quite frankly, sucks. It's not even that you're depressed, it's that you can't seem to do anything to lift yourself out of it. I clean and read and surf aimlessly on the internet not because it gives me any pleasure, but because it distracts me from being numb. Last night I spent curled up on my bed with two stuffed animals clutched to my chest because it felt like the inside of me was filled up with inexplicable grief.

But while surfing, I pinged on the Bloggess, who I linked to before. She's a humorist, but occasionally she has these beautiful, uplifting messages that aren't hidden by her humor but amplified by them. Like saying that it's okay to make a joke out of it, to laugh at yourself and your insecurities.

This is one of those posts. Go read it now. I'll wait.

It honestly made me happy, for the first time in weeks. It's one of those simple things, when you're so stressed about everything else that made you think, "It's going to be okay." This too shall pass and all that jazz.

So guys, the next time you don't feel pretty enough or smart enough or any of those unexplainable fears that plague you, sit down and take a breath. Put on a ballgown and a fake wig, take goofy photos, whatever, and remind yourself that you're beautiful--and not just that skin deep kind, but the kind that we forget about sometimes when we're focused on other things. If you can't think of anything you like about yourself, ask me, I'll tell you everything I can think of, all the wonderful things that make you special and a friend.

And weirdly, I got to smiling, thinking, "That's what Gay Christmas is about." It's not about drinking or perving over hot guys/girls (okay, it's a little bit about that), but it's more. It's about doing something goofy that "adults" aren't supposed to do, like making construction paper chains and celebrating all those wonderful different people out there in the world and reminding ourselves that friends, and picspams of Liam Neeson and Bradley Cooper (thank you, [ profile] be_merry), are really what make the world go around.

Don't do this for a week, don't do this for a month, try it out for the rest of your life. Be happy, guys. Life's too short to not be.

Eudora Welty - "All serious daring starts from within."


kitsjay: (Default)

January 2014



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