I was going to write more stuff today and I decided to take a nap and then that nap turned into a sleep and that sleep turned into a coma and this sentence turned into a run-on and now it’s midnight and I got nothing done today.
i have 15 years’ worth of outstanding library fines in three separate cities and it’s my hope that eventually a bounty hunter librarian will come to collect and we’ll get in a bar fight and fall in love
I also can’t rent movies in two different towns so there’s that.
I walked into work today and thought the morning nurse was a different person who had been sort of dicking us around on scheduling. So I said “didn’t expect to see you here” in what was, in retrospect, a needlessly hostile tone.
Then I realized I was wrong about her identity, so I panicked and tried to cover my mistake by telling her she looked like another, third person. Then I realized that was calling her generic-looking, so I clarified that she was very distinctive-looking, just in a way that some other people are distinctive. Like, her appearance is a significant minority of the population. Then I realized that might seem insulting towards her appearance, so I clarified that by distinctive I didn’t mean unattractive, just that she was normal-looking but in a unique sort of fashion. Then I named some other people she also looked like, making sure not to say anything uncomplimentary about those people.
Have you ever seen a man eat his own feet, then keep going up his body, consuming legs and pelvis and so forth, until he actually swallows his own mouth?
Dysautonomia is weird because it was 77 degrees earlier and that was so hot I started to black out, but now it’s 67 degrees and I’m wearing a jacket, a coat, and a winter hat and I’m still cold.
This was one of my favorite books as a kid. I checked it out of the library about a billion times.
If you’ve never read it, then you probably don’t know about The Story of Baby X!
1974. Thirty-three years ago. This anthology included a story. About a kid being raised without an assigned gender. As a positive thing.
I didn’t know I was genderqueer at the time, or that that was a thing, or… anything. But it had a huge influence on me. It made it very easy to imagine raising a kid by using gender-neutral pronouns, and waiting to hear a gender, and/or pronouns, from the kid themself.
And here it is.
Once upon a time a baby named X was born. It was named X so that no one could tell whether it was a boy or a girl.
Before it was born, scientists created an Official Instruction Manual that would help the families raise baby X.
Many families were interviewed to find the perfect parents for baby X. Families with grandparents named Milton or Agatha, families with aunts who wanted to knit blue shirts and pink dresses, families with other children who wanted a little brother or sister. All of these families didn’t want a baby X, they wanted a baby girl or boy.
Finally, scientists found the Jones family The Jones family wanted to raise a healthy, happy baby, no matter what kind. They wanted, most of all, to raise a baby X.
The Jones promised to take turns holding X, feeding X, and singing X to sleep.
They promised to never hire any babysitters, because babysitters might try to peek at baby X’s secret.
The day the Joneses brought home their baby, everyone asked, ”Is it a boy or a girl?” To which Mr. Jones replied proudly, ”It’s an X!”
No one knew what to say. They couldn’t say, “look at her cute dimples” or “look at his husky biceps!” And just saying “kitchy-coo” didn’t seem right either.
The neighbors were unsure, and the relatives were embarrassed. “People will think there is something wrong with it!”
And the Joneses didn’t understand this. “What could be wrong with a perfectly healthy and happy baby?” they sat and wondered.
Suddenly everything changed for the Joneses: The cousins who sent a tiny helmet did not come and visit anymore. The neighbors who sent pink, flowered dresses pulled their shades when the Joneses passed their house.
The Official Instruction Manual had warned the new parents this would happen, so they didn’t worry too much. Besides, they were having too much fun raising baby X.
Mr. & Mrs. Jones had to be very careful. Because if they kept bouncing baby X up in the air and saying how strong and active X is, they’d be treating baby X more like a boy. But, if they cuddle and kiss baby X and tell it how sweet and dainty X is, they’d be treating baby X more like a girl rather than an X.
So they consulted the Official Instruction Manual, and the scientists prescribed, “Plenty of bouncing and plenty of cuddling. X ought to be strong, sweet, and active. Forget about dainty altogether.” [Continued below the cut]
Urocyon's Jaunts 2.0 
You must be logged in to post a comment.