Honey in my Gears

"Kill yourself. That'll show them. That'll show everyone! They'll all be sorry!"
Even though revenge isn't one of her 13 reasons why she killed herself when the last episode came, that seems to be the big takeaway from the whole show. Teenagers shouldn't grow or change or get angry with each other or back away from a friendship or make mistakes or have hormones...

Look at any coming-of-age movie or show, or hell, read your own high school diary/journal. Teenagers are rife with new hormones trying to balance themselves out. That's a recipe for even the underdogs to be assholes on occasion.

The show's not all awful. They make a few good points here and there, but none of them are really taken to heart, not even in the apex.

The main character is Clay. OH, CLAY. What a shitty, no-dimensional character you are.
Let's not even go into the details of the world's fakest head wound (I have a running list of problems with the makeup fx if anyone cares).
We immediately have a conflicting baseline for his relationship to Hannah. In flashbacks, they seemed like they were pretty close, maybe even dating at some point...? But in the present, it seems like he barely even knows her, he denies his closeness when others ask, and it looks like none of their friends knew they were ever close either. In the book, they'd just met in passing, which ought to explain some things in that resepect. Clay is Exhibit-A for aggressive and unnecessary hormones, because when he wasn't staring into space for long and awkward amounts of time (rivaled only by JD zoning out on Scrubs, only Clay has a hard time snapping out of it), he was lashing out at all the people on the tapes (a serious problem I'll get to in a few minutes). And he didn't even lash out effectively. He just gummed everything up and made shit worse half the time.

Hannah's character would have been great if not for her crime (not the act of killing herself, but her massive revenge that I'll get to later). She's a perfect picture of your average teenager with lots of flaws hiding how badly she's suffering at the hands of severe depression. A small number of very big and traumatic things happened to her, and she deserves to be upset, depressed, and sure, suicidal over them. As a teenager, there is not a lot so detrimental, lingering, and dangerous as slut-shaming, as we find out toward the end.

When we see her from Clay's distant point of view, though, we see a teenage girl who's fucking nuts, who blows shit out of proportion, who takes everything too personally. Like I said before, this is what teenagers do. Adolescent brains haven't experienced a lot of life, so when young people appear to overreact to stupid situations as life-or-death, that's because those little moments are that grave in their minds. You remember how mortifying it was to drop your lunch tray in front of everyone? You could have died right there! Now as an adult, do you fucking care that much if you drop your lunch in front of coworkers or fellow college peers? Was it really that shitty? Everyone does embarrassing things. In retrospect, it's not so bad. But kids don't really have retrospect yet.

The problem with viewing her as some drama queen is that it glazes over the one good point the show makes: Depression detaches you from reality. Anyone with depression or anxiety (etc) knows what it's like to feel personally attacked by a small, shitty thing a friend did, forcing your infected mind to question the entire relationship (just look at my coffee post from yesterday - This guy was a confidant - someone I could always turn to, and over a cup of coffee I feel like our whole friendship is a sham. I haven't even given him eye contact today). So what we see is a girl who blows things out of proportion, but instead of realizing that's what depression does, we just... don't. We don't get that message at all. Only people who've been there and survived (even a little) get that message. The rest of the world probably needed to have had it spelled out for them.

As for the other characters. The "Reasons"... The show paints rude and mean people as equal to being bullies.
I get it. To Hannah, everyone bullied her. And her mom saw stupid shit people scrawled on the bathroom wall and demanded that be the proof she needed to claim Hannah was bullied (hi, have you EVER been in a public toilet? It's not just in high schools). But this is a problem anyway. Every disagreement she ever had with her friends went on those tapes, and so every little thing was part of that tape's Reason. A lot of those kids didn't deserve the stigma of being blamed for someone's death just for being Non-Exemplary Teens (Bryce totally deserves what should have been coming to him, though - wish we could have seen that revenge come to fruition).

There are people who think the show doesn't glorify suicide, but when the plot is driven by revenge (successful revenge, at that), it motherfucking does.
By the end, we see that she's not specifically killing herself as a revenge tactic - like everyone who does it, it's the only exit from suffering they can see. You detach the suicide from the stories. But listen, even though it was a clear case of ending her suffering, the entire show is about her seeking revenge from her grave!! If it weren't, she would have instructed that each get their own tape (I actually would have rather seen each person react as they heard their own tape and no one else's - but I understand that everyone's stories intertwine).

Everyone heard the tapes, but nobody took the lessons to heart: don't be such a shit to your friends, talking helps, and fucking look at each other!

I saw from just a few episodes in that Alex was suicidal, and Jessica can't function sober anymore. These people deserved the least of the blame, yet suffered most. Not a single person in the show took notice of Alex's suicidal tendencies, and they saw everything I saw, and that bothered me so much, because this should have been the fucking point of the whole show!

You know why nobody saw each others' problems after they should have learned the lesson from hearing the tapes? Because they were all too caught up in their own guilt to ever care about each other again. The tapes didn't act like a learning experience where people are sorry for the right reasons. They keep their guilt and don't apologize. They let their guilt destroy them. That's the revenge fantasy come true. That's "they'll all be sorry!" in action. The other kind of sorry. The endless regret eating them alive.
And I do mean endless.
Because... can you really blame these kids for not paying attention after the tragedy? Imagine you're first or second on the list and then every person who listens after you approaches you and drives the guilt deeper for being shitty that one time, and having each person tell you that's why she killed herself. Over and over and over and over...
I mean, everyone up til Clay threw a rock through Tyler's fucking window. Who's really surprised he's planning on turning his classmates into swiss cheese next season (please don't be a next season unless you take the criticisms to heart, ugh).

Hard to believe it took 11 people to move their little worlds forward an inch, too. Clay the savior. Clay the lifeless little shit who also took part in slut-shaming, made cutting remarks, and had his own little pieces throughout the tapes (and yet Hannah deems him sinless while ignoring Jessica's genuine apologies and reconciliation to Hanna, while she was still alive).

The show is kinda worth a watch (if you can get past Clay's stupid face and that goddamn head wound). It had a lot of potential, but it just fell short or screwed up in too many key ways. They didn't give the viewer alternatives to suicide (no, they did, but those alternatives were: 1. talking to the world's shittiest counselor who makes cutting remarks. 2. Drinking to forget. 3. Denial. 4. Shooting up the teen torment hub. 5. Using a gun instead of a razor). It also went against Suicide Prevention guides (which they asked for, but ended up throwing away), mainly - don't show the suicide.
Now I have some conflicting thoughts on the suicide scene. On one hand, it didn't flower it up like they tend to do in some movies. They made it fucking horrifying. FUCKING HORRIFYING. They made me, a formerly very suicidal person, never want to consider that as a potential method for doing myself in, and hopefully they deterred other suicidals from the same action. But it didn't actually make me "see the light" on anything. All it did was make me consider another form, like taking pills and overdosing (which is how she did it in the book). And on the other hand, they basically showed you a VERY vivid how-to for slitting your wrists. Shit.

There's a shitload of stupid non-psychological technicalities of trope-o-vision that drove me nuts, too, but I guess I've made the point I wanted to make.

I deleted the Facebook app from my phone again because shit, I'm addicted. Finally got some cleaning done, too. I spent Saturday cleaning, primping (self-spa day. It was nice), and watching a beautiful anime called Yuri on Ice: a deep dive into the world of competitive ice skating, complete with multiple full programmes (performances) for all the skaters in the show. Seriously, so beautiful! It made me want to skate again.

I idly looked up some tips for whenever I end up finding a place that offers free-skating, and I came across a beginner tip that ruined my desire to pursue the sport as a child - I was ten or eleven last time I got on the ice (my first time was in Kindergarten as part of gym class), and I came home to tell mom all about how I figured out how to balance and glide, showing her the movement I made, tip #2 on the website I looked at. My mom busted a gut laughing at me. I was too embarrassed to ever go on the ice again.

But fuck that shit now.

I signed onto Facebook for the first time the whole weekend so I could message my friend Niki and let her know I finished binge-watching the show. I know she skates on occasion, and I know she recently watched the show - she's obsessed (in a healthy way... I think). I love it too, though :)
So I signed on and lo and behold, the first thing I saw was a post from her asking if anyone would like to join her for an afternoon skate!

From 2 - 3:30, Niki glided beside me and ahead of me, going forwards, backwards, sideways, doing little spins, helping me get used to the ice. I could barely take my hand off the side wall, and she usually had to take my hands to go around other people who were slower or stationary at the wall. Twice, though, right at the end of the session, I went around someone without her help.

Charles was there, too. And Niki's friend Cat, who is a former competitive skater and current teacher of skating! He spent the whole time teaching Charles super-basics - Charles couldn't stop gripping the wall with both hands and only made three laps (I made five). He couldn't even step - he just pulled on the wall and let that move him.

I eventually gained a little bit of confidence, and tried being a little bit bold. Nearly wiped out, too. I'm really terrified of falling, because my first time on roller-skates, I wiped out and broke my wrist. Mom's first reaction was [guess]. But I do need to start trusting the ice more - I always tend to fall more softly on ice and snow than I do on other things (and in fact, did stumble softly to the floor once and landed alright.

But I lapped a bunch of times! I caught up to Charles one last time and slowed down with him for the end of the session so Cat and Niki could free skate wildly. Cat is amazing. Niki is pretty great. I took a couple videos of her. I taught Charles what Niki taught me, which was simply how to stop and how to stand without holding the wall, and how to slowly "walk" on the ice, which he did on our way to the gate.

I had so much fun, and I've decided to work this new hobby into my budget. It's only $11 per visit, including skate rentals - OH, and Niki said she's getting super pristine skates to replace the ones she was wearing, so I asked if I could buy those off her (we have the same shoe size - I even have a cool pair of shoes I got from her ages ago). We talked in the lobby for nearly two hours after - found out Cat works at MCC, too (he works at the proper campus - I'm downtown).

I'm so excited to skate again next weekend :)

Sam and Moose picked me up and took me out to Red Robin for burgers (of all the bad habits I embraced since getting picked up, I surprisingly managed to stay mostly keto the entire weekend).

We went back to their house in the absolute middle-of-nowhere at the outermost outskirts of Wayne county, and Sam handed me a pack of Marlboros. We rifled through all her laundry and filled bags with clothes she didn't want anymore. I always nearly double my wardrobe when I go over there. I desperately need another dresser, or a different one with more drawers.

Then we decided I needed some new colour in my hair (I have a hidden layer in the back that's been green since the summer). We tried to get the green out to make way for red, but it didn't budge, so we chose "Rockabilly Blue" instead. Nobody has noticed in the two weeks it's been newly coloured, and it kinda makes me sad, especially since last night, I attended a dinner party where one of the guests had the same colour in her hair, and everyone marveled at it.

In the morning, everyone slept in or lazed about until 2. Then we got dressed, did hair and makeup (Sam's makeup collection is the best salesman - I buy tonnes of makeup after every visit), and headed back out to Rochester for a concert.

I haven't officially seen Flogging Molly, even though they play in Rochester all the time (one of the bandmates is from here), even though I technically got to see them perform a couple of songs at a festival I was working at, while on a booth break. They were amazing, and the audience was on fire!

Sam and I got dropped off at the venue by Moose, and we had to walk without coats in the freezing breeze and waited in line. When we got in, we headed straight for the booze. We found none. There were beer booths all over the place, but we couldn't find a proper bar. We decided beer is better than nothing, and headed for a random line. We instantly saw someone we knew in line, and she said there was a full bar upstairs. We left so fast, you could see a vapor trail.

A couple shots and mix drinks later, and we were properly warmed back up enough to go find more friends and find the side-exit for a smoking area. We spent the entire pre-show smoking and drinking and shooting-the-shit with stories of the old days. I felt really happy because I was in some of the stories, and I just felt... included. My friends these days are great, but nobody talks about each others' lives, nobody really has many adventures together (except the married couple), and when they do, it's nothing usually worth talking about (I mean, I would love to talk about them, but nobody would listen).

We hit the bar for one more drink. Sam's treat, as always. Some guy nudged ahead of me while Sam ordered at the bar, and I said to my friend next to me, "That asshole just cut ahead of me!" My voice has never been booming, but the guy heard me say that and promptly backed off, apologizing profusely. I felt really bad. I told him I was just kidding, that I wasn't even in line, and that I didn't think he'd even hear me.

The stadium was packed by the time we left the bar, but we somehow managed to get right up front. We witnessed some drunken brawl behind us. Ahead of us, we witnessed a guy leave on a stretcher. Halfway through Flogging Molly's first song, a crowdsurfer took a bad dive and got hurt. They stopped the show to yell at security for not doing their jobs (their job was to be at the front of the crowd to help crowd-surfers not fall and break their necks once they got to the front - seems strange, but this is standard practice for most rock shows). They didn't start playing again until they felt the front was properly staffed, and the injured guy was away to safety and medically supported.

After the show, we hit the toilets. Sam's buzz was going strong, as she's on anxiety medication, and mine was wearing light, but still buzzing. I texted Sam from inside the toilet stall - a picture of the seat, with a pubic hair on it, captioned, "Help!" I managed to kick it off into the toilet, and sat down in time to hear Sam and our friends bust a gut laughing outside in the hall. They were so booming that other people we didn't even know had to be let in on the joke. Crazy that the high point of the night was me drunkenly battling a pube!

Came home and almost ate shit getting out of Moose's truck - the seat is so high that I can barely reach my leg up (and hand to the handle) to lift myself in, and I have absolutely forgotten this height in the past - they'll never forget my first time getting out, they just heard "Oh shit!" as they saw me swoop out the door and just barely manage to catch myself from falling into the railing we parked beside. I'm getting better at remembering to jump ;)

I had my first root canal in 20 years. I had scheduled my first cleaning in 2 years, which should have gone down in 2 weeks. And suddenly have my first serious problem in 10 years, during the first serious storm Rochester has seen in 25 years. The appointment was with a new (to me) dentist who takes frequent vacations. I decided that if I can't rely on that guy in an emergency, I don't need him, so I hunted for someone else.

In my quest, I saw that my childhood dentist is still practicing. Nobody answered at his office, but further investigation showed that I was looking on an outdated website and he was out-of-network (insurance is a bitch in the states). His listing only had a 3-star rating, anyway, and I also remembered that I had to have all the root canals he'd performed on me re-rooted and eventually pulled. So when the phones weren't answered, I took that as a sign to keep hunting.

Emergency closings had me and Charles out of work for the day, so we could spend the morning finding a dentist who was in-network, with-electricity, and could squeeze me in immediately. We settled on one, drove out, got it x-ray'd, got a plan, got antibiotics, got Good painkillers, and the day was saved!

Everyone fears the dentist, but I never have, because they always solve face-hole pain problems by the time I leave. Even things like root canals don't scare me or make me nervous. I know I'm gonna feel better on the way out. And I know I'm getting what I'm paying for (unlike a medical doctor's visit, where you pay a guy in a white coat to be condescending to you and bill you for everything right down to the tongue depressor and electricity used to turn on the room lights).

I'm also glad I got a dentist who is not a white man. I'm sure there are good ones out there, but I have yet to come across a single one in my entire 35 years. Every dentist I've had has been Middle Eastern or Indian, and one white German guy who was just monitoring his grad students' process on me, and occasionally talked to me like a kid.

It took a half an hour - ages shorter than I remember it being when I was a kid. Plus 5 hours of stroke-lipped numbness.

~

I told Brian to call me after 5pm, because the numbness will have worn off by then. He decided to call me 12 times between 11am and 5pm. Then called once more at 5:30 when I could finally answer it.

I had a nice date with him. He had grounds privileges, so we went out to the bus shelter in the freezing weather to smoke. He shared a cigarette with me. It was the first time since we shared a bottle of cough syrup (when we were sick) that he's ever put his mouth on something I put mine on.

~

Now for something completely different:

I'm working on a project with the international guerrilla crochet artist Olek (check her work on google images) through Wall Therapy. The completed project will be a giant crochet'd billboard with Susan B Anthony depicted with one of her quotes ("Happiness is being independent" or something like that). There are many people making 2-ft square pieces - I am making 2 squares: one solid pink (to learn how to crochet) and another mostly pink piece with the tail of the 's' in "is" in blue. It's taking forever.

I attended a workshop and presentation with my friends Debbie and Meredith. Debbie got me started, but as one of the few expert crocheters, she was asked to go around to the other newbies to help, so Meredith taught me further, by going around me like our grandmothers taught us when we were kids.

The whole project is being heavily documented, so there is going to be video of me somewhere Olek telling me (nicely and constructively) to unravel and start over XD

The new user agreement, noting that the servers have been moved to Russia, will disallow any political or LGBT+ chatter (the latter needing to be marked as 18+ for mature content), and needs to comply with Russian Federation laws, AND anyone with over 3k friends needs to register as a media outlet - I don't know how strict their filters will be with accounts with a low reader count, or if they count friend-locked entries at all, but that's enough for me to do another backup to DreamWidth - what upsets me most is that I just recently purchased another year here, and DreamWidth is all-around not as good as LJ, and I don't have nearly as many icons as I would here, even as a free user.

I doubt shit's gonna change that much around here for the little people, but this used to be a haven for personal issues, LGBT+ and otherwise - now this online diary is no longer a haven for spilling your more private secrets to trusted LJ friends, because the RF government is keeping their bigoted eyes on it (but please know, much like the people of the US, I don't hold the individual people of any country responsible for the way their government acts).

I'm not planning to leave until it's truly time to abandon ship. But I'll be cross-posting to my DW account more frequently from now on, as well as post more personal items that I assume would get flagged by an oppressive gov't that slaughters its gays.



Funny that it did this on 4 April - the day that starts the book 1984.

My first day at the new job ended up being a crazy crash course!

A couple weeks ago, I saw my friend Sara's post on Facebook saying she and Josh were ready to hire extra help at their liquor store. It's right on the other side of my neighborhood, and I could use some extra cash, so I stopped by to put my name in the mix. I was joined by another prospect applicant, and Josh (the owner) let us in on the sampling happening with one of the reps from the Iron Smoke distillery. I got to try their smoked whiskey and their Apple Pie whiskey. Delicious.

Josh decided to hire us both, so we're getting a day or two a week each. I trained for two hours on Wednesday, and came back on Saturday, where I got about an hour of extra training with Sara, and some assignments (breaking down the empty boxes in the back, and organizing/stocking the stuff in the back).

I think I did a good job on my first lone day, despite some weirdness. I had nightmares about it all week, depicting everything that could go wrong from the register crashing, to huge lines while the register is crashing, to not being able to get things up and running again, to armed robbery... But Josh and Sara were a text/call away.

As soon as Sara left, I went to break down boxes til I got a customer. Then I got three at once. I handled it like a pro and remembered to card everyone.

Then I got a guy who seemed really nervous. Like really nervous. Tried to convince me the owner knows him (you know, the guy with the glasses) and that he's in the (frequent buyer point) system. The system doesn't have photo identification, so it's not a substitute for an actual ID. He was persistent, so I said I'd send a photo of him to the owner, so he can confirm he knows you. He was hesitant, but let me take his picture anyway. Neither Josh nor Sara recognized him. I told him to hit the bricks: "I think you're gonna have to come back when you have your ID." He didn't resist, and left peacefully.

Then I got a girl who had THE ONLY GIFT CARD EVER GIVEN from here. What the hell are the odds that I'd get something I don't know how to put in the register due to the fact that only one exists in the world?!? Josh walked me through it over the phone. A few more customers later, I got a guy who found something he wanted more than what he bought before he even left the store. So Josh had to walk me through a return, which the guy decided to not want after all halfway through the process.

Nothing else surprising happened the rest of the night, thank goodness. As far as doing my job went, I think I did a good job stocking the fridge'd wine, but fell short trying to restock whiskey and bourbon.

Good first day, I say!

Tim caught me in Java's and stopped by to say hello. Asked how Brian's doing. Asked if we're dating again. I blushed, and he called me out on it. "Yeaaah, you're dating again!"

I guess it's true that things seem like they're back to what they used to be. Except I can only see him once a week in an enclosed space (though lately, he's had outing privileges inside the compound, which is a nice change of environment, even if only slight).

I bring him coffee and a cookie from Sasso, and he really looks forward to it. He always makes sure I remember to buy myself a coffee, too, so we can make it like a coffee date, like old times at Java's and Fuego. It's sweet.

He talks a lot about angels, star signs, energy powers, and Hitler. I always had to escort him out of the library (where I work) when he starts spouting about Hitler, jeezus. At least it's not weird at an asylum.

Last week, he met me near the entrance (a great surprise, as I usually have to wait at the door to his ward). When I signed in, he rushed me to a private hallway. I still had my coat on, and in my pocket: my phone! So I let him surf YouTube the whole night. Killed my data-bank (halfway through the billing cycle and I've already used about 95% of my data). But it was worth it. It was a really nice time.

He's been talking like they'll make him stay on the medication for a year again. He's also been talking like they can't force him. He has to want it. He'll never want it, so I really hope they mandate it. Then again, he did check himself into the asylum this time. That's a step he's never taken before...

(pretty much directly taken from an email I just spent a half-hour writing)

I just dealt with a very troubled student. I believe he is schizophrenic. He definitely behaves like my schizophrenic friend, but this guy is not my friend, and I’m having a hard time dealing with him. I’ve dealt with him on numerous occasions, but I really feel like I can’t handle him anymore after today.

He comes in and says things that almost make sense (sense enough that I can figure out that he forgot his password, but not sense enough to make out what else he says – this is hard to explain, but for instance, he said a lot of things, like he was having a hard time explaining himself, but somewhere in there he says “that’s my birthday,” when he didn’t mention a birth date, but also says he knows I’d need it). He plays games, like not giving me his name, but laughs it off as a joke. This takes up the first five minutes.

The next five are waiting for him to rustle through his bag for who-knows-what because the only items he actually uses are already right in his hand when he gets here (a notebook), while I try to calmly explain that I need him to fill out this form. He goes off saying I need to be more patient. I am patient, but I also have the phone ringing off the hook and can’t wait here forever (I don’t tell him that, but continue to urge him to take care of the form). He can tell I’m on edge at this point, and he finally gets to the form.

Today, he took a call, and I said I can’t help him when he’s on the phone. Thankfully, he told the person he’d call them back quickly, but not before telling me to wait even more.

He got very flustered about having to answer his security question, which I recall helping him set up (favorite color), because he “doesn’t have a favorite color.” I told him to give it a shot, and I typed in the first color he mentioned (among 5 or so). He also immediately gave up on trying to come up with a password, so I gave him a default, and then wrote down his user/email and pass so he could copy it into his notebook.

He took the next 10 minutes to copy it in his notebook and reprimand me about my attitude – I wasn’t giving him an attitude. I just wasn’t acting like his best buddy and was making him fill out a form. He tried to make it about race, gender, status, and about some other things I didn’t even understand. I didn’t think I should tell him it’s because I’m not his personal assistant and he can’t take his dear sweet time meandering around and throwing weird jokes because he’s not the only student I need to help today. I told him it wasn’t any of the things he said, I don’t know what he means, I’m feeling attacked and I’m sorry if he’s feeling attacked too. I apologized, he apologized, and that was it. He took five more minutes to keep writing and finally packed up and left.

I had to step away for a little while after that. I’d already dealt with one hostile student just moments before this [a student angry with me that I tried making her do her own work, with my assistance, instead of me doing everything for her]. What is it, a full moon?

I talked to Dennis and he suggested I write this email – he suggested future action with this guy involve calling security to keep an eye on the situation when he’s here. He suggested seeing if someone (an advisor or something) can come here with him next time he needs help. All good ideas, I think. My best friend may be schizophrenic, but that doesn’t mean I’m good with wrangling this type, especially when the person in question is not my friend.

Fridays are supposed to be dead. What gives…

Brian calls often, but I can never pick up because he either calls during work or when I'm busy. I try to pick up at least once a week when I can (seriously, he calls a lot, and once a week is my best - it's nuts), because I've finally gotten to the point where I'm past the hurtful things he said to me in a schizophrenic rage, and past the avoidance phase, and I actually miss him. And this coincided nicely with him being hospitalized and going back on the medication, which brought him from raving lunatic, to chattering non-stop about things that don't make sense (even by Brian standards), to chattering non-stop about things making a little more Brian-like sense, to finally pausing occasionally to allow for conversation.

I went to visit him at Rochester Psychiatric Center (RPC) on Friday. I haven't been there in about 8 years, since visiting my friend Keegan. When I visited Keegan, I was ushered into a large room, like a prison visitation room, with lots of tables and folks visiting at each one. Visiting Brian was different.

I had to take a small labyrinth to get to where I could visit him. Brian came toward me with excitement and handed me his headphones and CD player, and told me to hold this while he ran to get his stuff, as an orderly unlocked the music room for us to visit in.

He was excited that I brought him coffee. It made me happy to see him enjoy something, instead of spitting and dumping it. He emptied a pillowcase full of papers and notebooks and books onto the table, being careful of the coffee, and showed me a bunch of things he was working on. Reading a couple of Plath books, writing a new novel (he's a good writer, and his books are popular among his friends), and he even drew me a valentine, in case I didn't get to see him again this month. It was so sweet.

I let him do most of the talking, and he talked about angelic items in his throat - a cupid's bow on one side, and seraphim on the other. He even touched me to show me on my own neck, which is a really big deal - he doesn't touch. He'll tap you on the arm or leg or something to get your attention or something, but other than that, he doesn't touch and doesn't like being touched, so yeah. Really big deal. I admit, with his fingers and thumb at either side of my trachea, I did think for a nanosecond that he might choke me.

But he didn't. And the conversation was really nice. Like we were back at sitting outside Java's and not in some sterile room being monitored.

It was so nice, I might just go back this week.

Somehow, I managed to convince Ron to join me at Boulder for Open Mic Night. Our weekly Open Mic is Tuesdays at the Lovin' Cup with a group of us. Occasionally, I like to catch up with just me and him, so I try to get him to come out to a cafe I can walk to.

He got there before I even left my house - we decided to meet up at 8, so I decided to leave at 7:30 (I was lollygagging up til he texted me at 7:24 anyway, but it only takes 15 or so minutes for me to get there. Voltaire put up a contest to win a date with him, so I had to enter it). I arrived and my glasses immediately fogged up, so I removed them and texted him requesting his location. "Turn around," he replied. He was right by the door. We always sit on the entrance-side of the cafe, rather than the stage side, because the stage side is always way too crowded, and too loud, and we like to hear each other talk when it's just us.

We got to talk about our goals for the next year (well, mostly it was him - good thing he loves to talk and I love to listen to him talk). We talked about music lessons (he wants to take trombone lessons, but is apprehensive). We also talked about our friend John (his best friend). We're a little concerned about his health. He's morbidly obese and that's caused a lot of serious physical and mental health issues, and every time we get together, we rack our brains trying to figure out a good first step. And we talked about feminism - healthy adult debates between people we know about certain issues, and how Ron stood up beautifully for a woman's bodily autonomy. That made me smile. That made me love him. That made me trust him enough to say out loud that I'm asexual, because it was on topic while discussing pregnancy. I made a mitosis joke. He looked me dead in the eyes. Through me. And I couldn't tell if he thought I was taking the piss or being serious, or feeling upset like so many others had when I said it out loud to them. But I think he respects that.

We also talked about a rather intense mutual friend he was avoiding for the week - who ended up being there the whole time we were! Only, we didn't realize until after we left, after Ron dropped me off, Charles landed there and texted me to see if I was still there. He'd just missed me. He said he saw Matt, and hung out to watch him perform (he's a freestyle drummer). Ron and I sat by the door. Matt must have been in the crowded room with the stage.

I tried my best to get Jeff to come out. Jeff is how I met Ron in the first place - the three of us were in a movie together. They act in films together all the time, or at least once or twice a year, but almost never get to hang out as friends. We also talked about the real reason why that happens (the wicked witch of a mother who makes Trump look like the fuckin' Pope!) and lamented on how his mother's short umbilical leash hurts their friendship. I'll still try. I know the burden of being mentally unable to allow yourself a nice night out is lightened a bit when a friend asks to hang out, even if you still can't.

I'm trying to get Ron to say yes to a museum event date, and if he does, I'm going to buy Jeff a ticket, too, and will make absolutely sure he comes out.