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⬅️ Previous capture (2023-01-29)
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November 9, 2022
I have a habit of calling people “girl,” but “girl” is, after all, a gendered term, so when it slipped out as I was talking to a nonbinary person, I asked if that was okay.
They didn’t mind. “Any term of endearment is fine,” they said. Then they added, very unexpectedly, “It’s always awkward dating nonbinary, masc-presenting people and asking if I can call them ‘daddy.’ Like, I feel bad about potentially misgendering them, but...”
We both burst out laughing.
“Yeah... I understand the need,” I said. “I consider myself a dom, and I’m seeing this guy who wants to be treated as a sub, but he’s so mind-bogglingly good at being dominant that I feel bad for not giving him what he wants!”
🍋
An actual conversation I had today:
Me: Do you want to try limeade?
Guy: What’s limeade?
Me: Like lemonade, but with limes.
Guy: Oh! So it’s lemons –
Anaïs: NO. It’s LIME-ade.
☕
The other day, I’m talking to my two friends, the writer guys who were my favorite regulars at the café I used to work at. I’ll nickname them Goofy and Galba.
Goofy likes to gab, and when he gets into a story, he goes on for a while. He starts telling this half-funny, half-ranty story about the time his roommate offered him a brownie without telling him it was a pot brownie. Yadda yadda yadda it made him sick, he got a bad high, it pissed him off because he felt violated.
Anyway, this story takes him an excruciatingly long time to tell. As it goes on and on, I feel more and more tense. I should shut him up, but then he might ask for an explanation, and it’s not the time – I don’t want to shut him up over something he thinks is relatively innocuous – I don’t feel like having to remember what happened to me in the first place.
So, it’s one of those situations where it’s easier to deal with discomfort for a little bit rather than make a stink.
When the story’s done, I’m so relieved.
“Stoners, am I right?” he says. “Like, who does something like that?”
“Tell me about it.”
✋
Anaïs, a girl who I’ll nickname Puppy, and I were sitting and working on our laptops at the Student Center.
Puppy has a habit of blurting random things out – for example, the other day, an out-of-the-blue complaint about Tumblr girls thirsting over serial killers.
Anaïs and I shake our heads. We assume she’s done; we put our headphones back in and get back to work. Then, she opens her mouth again and starts describing the details. I put my hand up, and before I finish saying, “No, stop, this topic is really uncomfortable,” she slaps it, thinking that I was going for a high five.
She had a big smile on her face. She’s one of those people who are so innocent, it hurts.
👁️
In class the other day, we were discussing The Great Gatsby, and I realized that the only things that really stuck with me are the descriptions of
Anaïs thought I was crazy. She started reminding me about Gatsby’s backstory and funeral, and I was like, “Wait, what? Gatsby had a dad?”
.·:·. ✧ ☯️ ✧ .·:·.