I am a creature of habit. I tend to stick to the same thing day after day. I don’t have a problem eating the same thing on the daily, and it’s comforting to have a routine. I mention this because I’ve been thinking about dating. Just thinking about it. As I’ve mused about it in past posts.
I have waxed poetic about how I envy my brother for being decisive and energetic. When he started dating again, he made his plan and followed it to a T. He signed up with several dating sites and swiped, er, right? Left? Whichever is the ‘yes’ option many times. He put hours a day into dating. In other words, he took it as seriously as a job.
I warned him that Asian men and black women got the least responses on dating apps, but it deterred him not. He did admit it got tiresome at times, but he stuck it out. He averaged a date a week, and in a year, he found the love of his life.
In the process, he went on a trip outside the country by himself for the first time. He found a new layer of confidence in himself that he did not know he had. Over two years later, he’s still with his girlfriend, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy before. Well, that’s before all the shit that has happened in Minneapolis.
Putting that aside with great difficulty, I want to focus on my brother for a bit longer. When he started dating, I was thinking I might want to try, too. I looked at my OKCupid dating app, but I just couldn’t get into it.
See, here’s the thing. My inertia is way higher than my desire to get laid. I remember how great sex was. Believe me, I love sex. But. I don’t love what I need to do to actually get it. I mean, I probably could get sex fairly easily if I wanted to. Still at my age. But I’m not motivated to actually do anything about it. That’s my problem through and through.
I’ve been reading up on autism. There are articles about how there is no such thing as lazy and how somoene with autism has to fight their own brain to get shit done. This is the hardest thing for me.
Side note: I was looking for a song/video to include in this post as I do. I Googled songs about being the best me or something like that. One was a Bad Bunny song. I had heard a few of his songs, but hadn’t gotten too deep into it. Then, I saw his skits on SNL, and I noticed that he wore dresses in many of them. Somebody said something about him being pansexual and wearing dresses. I
Of course, I had to look that up. He’s straight, but he likes to wear dresses and skirts. And the far right is having a meltdown about the fact that he sings in Spanish (about sex!!) and that he wears dresses. Desi Lydic from The Daily Show broke it down, and there is a hilarious bit in which a Fox talking head says she’s pro,bably mute the halftime show while eating guacamole. I…what?!? If it wasn’t for the fact that it was Fox News, I would think she was joking. Maybe she is! Maybe she’s playing the long con just to get paid. If that’s the case, then, get that money, girl.
The number of rightwing talking heads who were outraged that he would be singing/rapping Spanish in such an AMERICAN sportsball game (Mike Johnson seriously suggested Lee Greenwood ‘for the kids’) made my head spin. Like, Puerto Rico is a US territory. They are US citizens (without, you know, actual US voting rights), and believe you me that Bad Bunny is way more popular than Lee Greenwood.
Also, the dress thing. So he likes to wear dresses and skirts. Who cares? I just don’t understand why this is a big deal. Why is their masculinity so shaky that it can crumble apart because of what they wear?
I’ve said this a million times, but my two favorite compliments were from butch lesbians who could not place me on the continuum (back when we did that sort of thing). In the first case, it was at an Asian queer woman thing. One butch woman was placing everyone on the continuum. When she got to me, she paused and said, “I don’t know where to put you.”
The second time was with a big bad butch (man, she was fine. And well over six-feet tall). We were talking about sports. At that time, I actually walked sports so I could talk about it pretty knowledgeably. During our chat, she stopped, looked me up and down, and said in a puzzled voice, “I don’t know what to do with you.” I asked her why. She said that I had long hair (down to my hips) and was very curvy, so that put me on the femme side. (I mean, I can’t really hide the latter without a lot of work and trouble, which I wasn’t going to do. I like my curves and am happy to have them on display.) On the other hand, I didn’t wear makeup, didn’t care about my clothing, and I could talk enthusiastically about sports, so that put me on the butch side.
I was so very pleased with both these comments, though I don’t think they meant to be complimentary. Not that they were trying to be mean or negative–they truly were puzzled by me. That’s not something I’m trying to do on purpose, mind, but I’m not going to be sad/mad if it’s the effect I have on people. Keep ’em keen, as the saying goes. Not really. I’m not trying to be a mystery, but it’s just who I am.
I try and try to figure out why people get so uptight and upset about something as simple as what people wear. I don’t get it in general (fashion, I mean. I just don’t care about it), and I certainly don’t understand whya piece of fabric has to be so rigid as to have a gender.
It’s a tricky line, though. I know people who feel comforted by their gender markers. It’s part of what makes them them. I mean, I guess most people think like that? I support that. I just get mad when people want to restrict what other people can wear by the first person’s perception of gender.
Well, that went way off the rails. More tomorrow.