#....i think. Anyway here we had a 'LGBTQ' bar open for like 2 months and closed due to horrendous mismanagement and

[wild-at-mind]

A weird thing I've noticed as someone living in England is how often people also living in England seem convinced their lives will improve massively if they just move to Wales or Scotland. Or sometimes further afield.

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Dino Rant (Nov 27 + Other Side Tales)

My siblings are currently mad at me. Here’s what went down. Tagging: @akaskira​ @ce-la​ @caratheillustrious​ Who are all practically my spiritual online older sister/sage advice givers and @lizard-in-the-rain​ who can be an idiot along with me.

For context:  Ate = Sister Kuya = Brother * My dad and I have a rocky past because he’s very old-fashioned, hasn’t been always supportive about my mental health, and is really old and out of date (especially about LGBTQ, feminism, HK protests, etc.) * My sister also has a rocky past with me but has since calmed down a little thanks to old age (she’s 23) * My brother is constantly busy with school (and stressed), is still mourning his breakup after a few months which continues to salt his wounds (not because his ex is crappy but she’s really nice. He’s having a bit of trouble still.), and is a very sensitive person (more sensitive than my sister)

Further in, you can see what happened at the orchestra concert on Saturday. For context, you can check out a previous rant.

Me: Dad got some bad oil burns. I was in the family room as he was yelling “[MOM NAME x 3] WHAT DO I DO WITH OIL BURNS?” Mom was upstairs and didn’t hear They are kinda big He’s upset

Ate: What the why didn't you help him call mom???? did you??? yike oil burns are no joke bc they hurt for longer bc water just steams away but oil sticks and keeps burning and the scars are worse

Me: Uh... I was scrolling on tumblr? I don’t know. I thought he already put ice.

Ate: smh

Me: But looking back, I heard the water running for less than a minute.

Ate: LOL

Me: And never heard the freezer open

Ate: water won't help unless you use soap anyways

Me: So I thought he did that but he was really just yelling for mom He didn’t even ice it. He said he ran some water over it.

Ate: make sure you help if someone yells for help next time even if you think it's handled bc if a person is panicking/in pain they're likely not thinking straight to help themselves speaking from experience

Me: Mom tried to give him advice now and he just walked away going “uh huh”

Ate: even I know to put my hand under cold running water and ice it but I've definitely not done that when I've burnt myself before I would be pretty choked too if there were 2 other people in the house and neither of them came to help me when I got oil burns

Me: Mom was upstairs and couldn’t hear. I thought he was crying wolf as usual.He yells for mom around three times on a daily basis

Ate: fair but fr next time take the 5 seconds to check bc sometimes bad things happenesp if all you hear is a thud

Me: “[Mom Name x 3 again] I CANT FIND THE [blank]!!!” Mom: it’s been in the same spot for over a decade. Look with your eyes.

Me: Mom does that once every other day (has a big thud) usually because something broke. When I heard the yell this time, I thought it was because he knocked something over. Dad is always yelling He even asked mom how to make the rice And didn’t make it because she didn’t answer fast enough Dad is a drama queen. That’s where we all get it from.

Ate: I mean

Kuya: Tf is this situation How can you ignore someone in need of help Regardless of who it is Doesn't it hurt to see someone suffering

Me: I didn’t see anything

Kuya: Unless you hold extreme animosity Like they killed your mom or something I have to hand something in by 10 But I find this quite upsetting

Me: I didn’t see anything, and the last thing he yelled was an oil burn, and the only advice I had was water and ice which I thought he already did.

Me (in response to animosity): Not extreme, but living with him with only me as the child has screwed a lot of things up.It has taken a toll on my sympathy for people (or whatever is left)

Ate: Same but he's still our dad?

Me: Eh, I honestly thought it was a small thing until I saw it.

Ate: I have only shreds of respect for him left but idk if I would go as far as to just overlook "oil burn" and figure "oh, I can't help so I'll ignore him" like that's a lil funny

Me: Again, when someone is constantly yelling, there’s a point where you don’t listen fully to what they’re saying. It only registered later that his burns might actually be serious and more than putting your fingertip on a hot pan. I also have little sympathy due to how he’s treated me during my past situations so honestly, I’ve little tolerance.

Afterwards, my mom called my sister who was absolutely hysterical and screaming on the other line to the point where my mom had to pull the phone away from her ear.

________________

Some Stupid Orchestra Stories:

Things I have said to my orchestra cohorts that might’ve scared them:

*sees me bump my instrument* Trumpet: Ouch Me (walking away): Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches, and dead men tell no tales. Doug: What?

*sees me bump my bow* Doug: Ouch Me (tired because I was just excluded from the conversation today because no one would listen to what I had to say): I’m going to stab you Doug: Pat, protect me!

Me: *tells anything about school* Everyone: MAJOR CONCERN (Examples: Kid said that this guy could have sex with his friend before she turned 21 by slipping a drug into her drink, kid saying he was going to hit a girl with a metal bar from the desk, kids smoking out back, kids make noise downstairs which causes the room I work in to shake, kids throwing stuff out car windows, kids brawling, my science teacher from regular school failing me for practically no reason)

More of an annoying incident from me: Hannah: Who’re you messaging? Your girlfriend? Sean: Yeah Me: YOU’RE STILL TOGETHER?! Sean: (sheepishly) yeah

To be fair, I get weirded out whenever they flash their privilege as semi-well off rich kids.  “Remember those special trips you get to take with your school to learn more about science? // Remember those international trips you take with your school club?” Me: ...no?! I’m not poor, I just dropped out of school before I could even go to my nearest McDonalds for a field trip.

But Doug is a little dumb sometimes. He doesn’t get my sense of humour (understandable), but he’s a little ignorant towards not-privileged people. 

He literally said he goes to sleep at 9:30pm, got into university (this is a semi-prestigious one) first try with 90s in all of his classes (at least), has a girlfriend, has friends, and doesn’t understand why anyone would stay later than that unless they had poor time management. His words, not mine. My brother stays there until around 12am studying. He was not happy to hear that. Doug is first year so my siblings are making fun of him saying he will perish in a year’s time. My parents saw him stealing kisses from his girlfriend in a parking lot during the day of our last concert. I seriously though the girl in his profile picture was his sister and not his girlfriend because they were both seriously white. Whiter than a bowl of milk I tell you.

He also doesn’t know what a period app would be for. I was a little annoyed. My brother knows about this well enough because we all know my sister and mom would not let anyone in this family live if they did not know the ins-and-outs of a period. Doug was like, “Why would you need to track that?” I responded, “Because they’re irregular.” He looked a little puzzled and I said, “Douglas, you’re a science major. There’s sex ed in school.” He responded that he is going into research (not sure what that has to do with menstrual ignorance) and never paid attention during sex ed (since it’s never for marks). I then got a little more pushy and said, “Well, if you ever want a girlfriend, maybe you should learn.” To which he said, “I have a girlfriend”. To which I gave him a look of:

Stories from the orchestra concert:

I did tell the bass instructor about this so maybe it’ll get sorted out but I did this “tell the teacher” thing twice where it backfired terribly. Let’s hope university kids are a little more grown up.

My messages from that night: Pat told me it was cute when I played in the wrong spots. It was genuine like she said it was cute. But it was like ??? I was having a panic attack. My brain left my body. I don’t want to play anymore. Then she put up her bow to make sure I wouldn’t flip the page Then she hit her bow on her bass. I really don’t want to play anymore. (She also repeated the same thing twice knowing from a previous talk that I have bad anxiety. She has anxiety as well.)

Me: Then Hannah and Patricia were commenting on my shoes. I like wearing my orthotics. They make my feet feel not in pain. Ate: tell them that Me: I did They told me to take off my shoes “They can’t even see my feet” I’m all the way in the back behind people “Then take off your shoes” “But then I’ll be in pain” “But you sit” (I have one foot on the ground) “So take them off. It’s for dress code. People can see you” Ate:  but it's literally a medical thing Tell them to actually fuck off hoh my god it's like asking a blind person to put their stick away bc people will trip on it or that you can't have your service dog with you like????

[pixiealtaira]

Hide Your Face

Kurtoberfest prompt 2: Masquerade....2017

Pairing: Ultimate Kurt/Sebastian.

Notes: Not Blaine friendly.  mentions Karofsky’s issues

Kurt left the restaurant just after Brittany and Santana had danced while the God Squad sang to them. He was crushed at finding out Blaine had not sent the Valentines.  He was confused to why Dave had done so, why he thought Kurt was free.

Of course he was also really confused about why Blaine was out of school for a bit over three weeks, nearly a full month, after he got the slushy to the face and his eye scratched. When Kurt got scratched in the eye by the neighbor’s puppy, he hadn’t even been allowed out of school for more than one day and have it excused. Nor when he and the rest of his lab table got the chemical burns in the eighth grade when the stupid jock sitting with them decided to play with the chemicals instead of following directions and splashed them across the lab table.  Nor when he got the infection after the whole pee balloon incident right before his freshman year. Now granted the second two incidences had a day or two more excused time, but not much and none bedridden.

Kurt sighed as he fretted again.  Blaine hadn’t even texted him or answered any texts in two weeks, since the day Kurt and Rachel and Finn had headed over and sang Ben to him.  Supposedly his parents had been taking him out of state for surgery, but when Burt called and asked for an update on it Blaine’s mother hadn’t even known what he was talking about.

It was irritating to think Blaine might not have been telling Kurt the truth, yet again.

Kurt turned on his SUV and pulled out, turning to face the entrance to the parking lot when Blaine’s car pulled in, followed by four others. When he didn’t stop or wave Kurt sighed, looking around.  He was one of six black SUVs in the lot, so maybe Blaine didn’t notice it was him. Kurt frowned and backed his vehicle into one of the far spots where he could see into the restaurant.

Blaine got out of his car and waved to someone in a sort of wait motion.  He peeked into Breadstix and then waved again for someone to come forward.

Warblers spilled out of their cars and rushed towards the door which Blaine had thrown open in a grand entrance type of movement.  It reminded Kurt of Blaine and the Pips throwing papers in the halls of Dalton. Sure enough, Blaine headed directly to the stage, pushing the God Squad off as he and Warblers filled it.

The door was propped open by boys standing in the doorway, so Kurt rolled his windows down so he could hear what Blaine was singing.

The Love Shack. Warbler backed. Go figure.

He watched Blaine hang on Trent and Thad before going to hang on Jeff before Nick pushed him away. Blaine did his little wounded puppy face and oblivious shrug.  The one he always did when he knew he did something wrong but was trying to make everyone else think he didn’t know what he was doing was wrong.

He was dressed to party. He was eye patch free.  He was also not even looking for Kurt at all. Kurt turned off his SUV and leaned back into his seat to see how long it took for Blaine to realize Kurt wasn’t there and maybe ask about him.

Six songs by Blaine and the Pips, time to eat Burgers which had been delivered right out to the guys…and two arguments with Quinn which led to them singing three more songs…later and Kurt determined the answer was never.  At least not that night.  Blaine didn’t care.  He hadn’t talked to Sam or Finn or Rachel.  He hadn’t talked to Mercedes.  He had talked to Sugar and Tina and loads of other guys.

An unfamiliar car pulled into the lot as Kurt was fuming.  Kurt watched several more Dalton boys get out and walk towards the entrance before the car went off…presumably dropping kids off.

Kurt was startled with the pounding on his window followed by the opening of his passenger door and someone seating themselves inside.

“Lady Face.”

“Sebastian.  How lovely to see you. I thought the go to term for me was gay-face?”

“Yes well, my father reminded me that that term was insulting to the whole LGBTQ+ community and asked how he was supposed to keep being a good ally when I was going around doing things like that. So, what are you doing here?”

Kurt snorted. “I live nearby, am in the same school and club with Sugar, who is the one hosting this thing tonight, sadly consider this somewhat a hangout…why wouldn’t I be here? You guys however are all a bit far from home.”

“Yeah, but Blaine invited us as we were traveling home yesterday.” Sebastian said. “And the Warblers had fun singing at last year’s little shindig…several got dates out of it…so we decided to come down this year.  But Blaine said you weren’t here.”

“Blaine has never been very observant…at all. Misses even the obvious half the time.  Of course I missed all the time he was spending with you at the Lima Bean and shopping and at Dalton and apparently Skyping and texting and calling, so perhaps I have no room to talk.  Traveling home?” Kurt asked.

Sebastian cringed at the very bitter rant, surprised it was aimed mostly towards Kurt’s own self. “Yeah. But he went to great lengths so that you didn’t know he was hanging with me and the guys…were you trying hard to hide from him tonight? Oh, and you forgot country club activities. Anyway, Blaine went on the History of America tour with us. It was part of his father’s agreement with him changing schools. Blaine would attend the ‘Dalton Experiences’ which his dad paid greatly for in order for him to be able to attend while not actually going to Dalton, he would maintain his involvement in the country club youth programs and activities, he would pull top scores in his classes, he would become involved in worthwhile endeavors at the school and have good standing in them,  he would present himself as a true Anderson and maintain leads in most of what he participated in, and he would refrain from causing scenes and his dad would allow him to go to McKinley.”

Kurt snorted again. “Of course he did…hmm, in both Anderson men’s cases, of course he did.  I’m surprised his father let him go, though.  Blaine said he was mad.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to snort. “He was. He called Thad’s father to find out who to contact about the whole face off thing and then called my father and I was down there apologizing before two days had passed. After that he was just mad at you guys for tossing a fit about us stealing songs instead of just accepting that we are rich and deserve what we want.  His words…not mine.  Blaine of course did not tell him how the songs got stolen.”

Kurt laughed. “You’d apologized even before Santana’s epic take down, huh?  I hope you don’t mind if I don’t tell her that.  She is very proud of herself.”

“Eh, I don’t mind. I actually had fun.  It’s nice to find someone who gives me a run for my money on the whole bad attitude front.”

“I’m not telling her that, either.  It would go to her head and you’d probably never be able to go anywhere ever again without her finding you and bitching at you. So, what are you doing out here anyway? Blaine and your pals are all in there.”

“Excuse me if I figured finding out why YOU were out here and not in there and why Blaine thought you weren’t here at all was more interesting than spending any more time with Blaine when he and the boys are in that mode…”

“You mean the ‘Blaine and the Pips’ mode?  Did he jump on lots of furniture while on his Dalton Experience?”

Sebastian laughed. “He did. He talked about half the Warblers with us into nightly ‘shows’ in the lobbies of the hotels we were staying in. It was annoying.  He wouldn’t let the rest of us sing lead, at all.  Wanted it all back to the way it used to be…he is NOT happy about that change to the Warblers at all.  Of course, the demand we NOT have a single lead that sings ALL songs is back to the way the Warblers were traditionally but Blaine only accepts Wes’ years of leadership as true Warbler years.  Nick and Jeff aren’t happy with him.  He kept hitting on one or the other all for the last week or so.”

“Not you?” Kurt sneered.

“Oh, he hit on me. However, I decided at Christmas time that I no longer really wanted to go there…and I’ll go most places.  The third Country Club Christmas party where his mother fawned over me because she thought I was a better option for his boyfriend than you because we are rich and therefore not after Blaine’s family’s money and asked how many children I thought we should have…after forgetting she asked the same things at both the parties before…I was done.  Not to mention, I just can’t see the whole ‘sex-on-a-stick’ that the Warbler guys kept talking about that led me to even approach him in the first place after watching him completely loose it about seeing two men kissing on the dance floor of Scandals the second…or maybe third…time I took him there.  I am sorry, but there is nothing about a public display of affection that cheapens the act…not in a gay bar.  That is supposed to be one of those places it is SAFE to show public displays of affection. Opps…I wasn’t supposed to let you know about other trips to Scandals.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It actually explains some things.”

“So, Lady-Face, why are you out here?” Sebastian asked.

“Find another nickname please.  That one is annoying enough from Santana.”

“How about queenie?”

“Nope…that is Quinn’s.”

“Princess?”

“It could work. You’ll share it with Puck.  That works though, you two have similar reputations. You just have it with guys.  I do hope you at no point prostituted yourself to older men…as craigslist as you are I really do believe you think better of yourself than that.”

“Ahh, you’re so sweet. Answer?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.” Kurt said.

“And?”

“I’ve been getting…things…all week.  I thought it was Blaine sending them, even though he hadn’t really texted me or anything. It wasn’t.  I called today.  Nothing, it went to voice mail.  I emailed him, I texted him.  I sent him Valentine’s treats…picked with him in mind. I was pulling out to head home when they all pulled in and so I parked again where I could watch and think.  Do you know what he got me for Christmas? He made me a ring out of gum wrappers…Said sweet words which he very promptly ignored and didn’t follow through with keeping. I worked extra shifts to buy him a suit he said he wanted and several bowties to match and gave it to him early when he complained about not having anything to wear over the holiday season.  Then I bought him a scarf and mitten and hat set for Christmas itself when he complained he wouldn’t have anything to open for Christmas.”

“You bought him that black suit with the gunmetal pinstripes?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt nodded.

“I thought the taste put into that suit was above his level to achieve.  His parent’s made him wear it everywhere.  Of course, I was privileged to see what HE picked out for a Christmas suit on when he came to the Dalton Winter Fun Fest. It was bright red with a pine green vest and he wore it with a bright yellow shirt.”

Kurt looked at Sebastian horrified.

“I kid you not, I will send photos.” Sebastian said.

“Dalton had a Winter Fun Fest?” Kurt asked.

“They have one every year.”

“And yet another thing I was never invited to or informed of.  I wonder who was responsible for it that time…Blaine or Wes.  I made Wes mad once and would have missed the Career Day if I hadn’t heard a teacher talk about it before class and asked.  If that was around the same time it could have been Wes’s fault. But it is mostly likely Blaine’s.  He was very much against me associating with the general population of Dalton. I just didn’t realize it until I was looking for ways out already.”

“I would make a bet on Blaine. You baked him cookies and bought him a box of chocolates and a new bowtie for Valentine’s Day, right?”

Kurt nodded.

Sebastian snorted. “He brought both the cookies and chocolates to the Warbler practice this afternoon and was wearing the tie.”

Kurt sighed. “Of course he did.”

“Why do you put up with this kind of stuff?” Sebastian asked. The question was soft and serious and so un-Sebastian in tone that Kurt paused.

“I don’t know. I was so lonely without him, before him, maybe I’m afraid of being that lonely again.”

“Were you always though? And are you really any less lonely now?”

“Huh?”

“Jeff said not very long ago that you came to Dalton because of extreme bullying which had culminated in a death threat…less than two months after your dad had had a heart attack.”

“Yes.”

“And he said it didn’t sound like you had help from your friends at all during that whole time?”

Kurt nodded. “He called the situation well.”

“Kurt, those periods in life magnify loneliness.  The fear of a family member dying, the fear of extreme bullying…even surrounded by friends who were actively helping you you would have felt lonely.  I know from talking to the other guys Blaine kept you isolated while at Dalton.  Are you really less lonely now?”

Kurt leaned his head against the headrest of his car seat and closed his eyes. Leave it to Sebastian to ask the hard questions.

“I don’t know.”

They sat for a few minutes before Sebastian spoke again. “Let’s have some fun.”

Kurt looked over at him. “What kind?”

Sebastian laughed. “God you sounded so dubious of my suggestion there. Clean fun tonight, baby cakes. I have an extra Dalton Uniform tucked in my trunk. You put it on, mess your hair a bit so it doesn’t scream Kurt Hummel so much, and we go join the masses of boys at your little friend’s party there.  I even have some glasses that are just plain lenses. I use them when I don’t want my step-mother to realize I went and bought myself contacts after all.  I’ll treat you to dinner and we can tear apart everyone around us.  I have heard you have quite the bite…even when you aren’t talking to me.”

“A masquerade.” Kurt said.

“Paper faces on parade.” Sebastian replied.

Kurt chuckled. “Oh Look. You are a gay boy.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “So?”

Kurt shrugged. “Why not? It has to be better than being alone thinking tonight.”

Sebastian went to his car and retrieved a garment bag with the extra uniform in it and Kurt changed in the back of his SUV.  After Kurt finally let Sebastian mess his hair up enough to look like a ‘real boy’ and popped on the glasses, he was declared as looking not ‘Kurt’ enough to go in.

Snarking with Sebastian seemed to be what Kurt needed.  Sebastian appreciated the irony of the ‘God Squad’ being led by a girl who got pregnant while head of the chastity club by cheating on her boyfriend with his best friend and who tossed the biggest fit when Kurt said he was an atheist. He had no problems listening to Kurt’s gripe about the whole ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ restaurant allowing Joe with the Jesus tattoos to run around barefoot as long as he didn’t try buying anything.  Sebastian snarked right back about Finn and Rachel and their behavior in public (and was just as horrified as Kurt at the thought of them getting married soon), Blaine and his behavior that evening and none of Kurt’s friends saying anything about it, and the entirety of Sugar Motta.  Kurt stuck to drinks and fries since he had eaten between Dave’s appearance and Sugar’s Party, but Sebastian ate while they snarked. It was oddly enjoyable.

Kurt thought he was sunk when Blaine came dancing by, trying to get Sebastian to join him prancing about. Blaine didn’t even recognize him.  Blaine stood there for ten minutes whining at Sebastian and didn’t recognize his boyfriend sitting next to the other boy.

Kurt wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it hurt and it wasn’t good.

“You want to leave?” Sebastian asked as soon as Blaine stomped off.

Kurt looked around. “How about some cheesecake?”

Their cheesecake had just arrived when Jeff and Nick found Sebastian.

“Sebastian! I thought you’d left after Ricky and John came in without you.” Nick said as he bounced up to their table. “Oh, Hi, Kurt!”

“I thought Blaine said you weren’t here?” Jeff said pulling up a chair and joining them. “Oh! Cheesecake! Are you two planning on eating the whole thing yourself?”

“Help yourself to some.” Kurt said.

“I thought Blaine was over here not long ago?” Nick said.  “Why are you still sitting here with Sebastian?”

“I thought you and Sebastian hated each other?  Blaine said you hated each other.” Jeff said.

“Blaine is blind.” Kurt said.

“No.  The slushy didn’t have any lasting effect on his eyesight. The doctor assured the Dean of activities of that before the dean would let Blaine come with us on the excursion.” Nick said.

“Oh. Oooohhhhh. Really?” Jeff said.  

Kurt nodded. Sebastian nodded.

“Would sorry be the right thing to say?  Is there a right thing to say?” Jeff said.

“That’s why I bought cheesecake.” Sebastian said.

“I don’t get it.” Nick said.

“Blaine didn’t realize Kurt was sitting here.” Jeff said.

“But…how could he miss it?” Nick asked.

“Because he’s an idiot?” Sebastian said.

“Wait. I’m lost.  I thought you were after Blaine?  Blaine said you were still after him last week.” Nick said.

“I haven’t been after Blaine since before Christmas.  I thought we were friends…just friends.  He’s good company during country club parties and things.”

“But…” Nick said. “God, I’m confused.”

Kurt laughed. “Join the club.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Jeff asked.

“Tonight? Eat Cheesecake. Tomorrow? I don’t know yet.  But I doubt it will be pretty. I’m not in a sweet and gentle mood.” Kurt said.  “I don’t suppose there were any charges of damage at any of those hotels he jumped about in? And you are all too nice of boys to record the foolish behavior.  I suppose though that I might leak to my dad that Blaine and his family had been lying…and to the school. I’d need the itinerary.  I am certain Coach Sue would be able to find enough security footage to prove Blaine was out and about with you and not tucked in some hospital undergoing surgery. His parents signed him out for eye surgery that supposedly happened last week.  Those are enough unexcused absences to create a problem for graduation, possibly.  I wonder how much his daddy is willing to fork over to keep dear Blaine from having to repeat a grade. I wonder if it would be enough for his foray into public schools to be cut short. I wonder what MY dad will get when he brings Blaine’s being able to get out of it up…since he was told he couldn’t even take us out long enough for us to be there when he was sworn in to congress…because we couldn’t miss school for something so frivolous.”

Sebastian started to chuckle while Jeff and Nick looked at Kurt with wide eyes.

“And I’ll make sure it’s known that the Andersons lied to school officials at McKinley about Blaine’s whereabouts.  I know my dad will find it interesting that Mr. and Mrs. Anderson lied instead of just being upfront about their son going on an excursion with another school.” Sebastian said.

Kurt smiled.  “The whole family isn’t very good at the whole ‘don’t create a scene’ thing, are they?”

Nick started to laugh. “You have no idea.  One of these days we have got to sneak you into one of the country club galas.  Mrs. Anderson is very interesting once she has had a few drinks and Mr. Anderson doesn’t drink but likes to make bets and gamble, so he is off within a half hour and just leaves her at it.”

“So…knowing this…is Blaine going to create a huge scene tomorrow for you after missing Valentine’s Day?” Sebastian said.

“Probably.” Nick said. “He likes the attention and it would make him look good.”

“No, he’ll do something small because he’d look silly doing something big after missing the day.” Jeff made his guess.

“I think he won’t do anything.” Kurt said.

“No. he’ll do something, but not tomorrow. Not until he finds out someone else did something for you all week and you thought it was him. I give it two or three days and I bet it will be big, or at least big enough for him to think he out did whatever else you received.”

Kurt tilted his head and watched Blaine singing on stage with Quinn.

“Dinner next weekend,” Kurt said. “If Blaine sings or does anything big to make up for our missed Valentine’s day tomorrow, I’ll pay for Nick.  If it is something small and quiet, I’ll pay for Jeff and if it is later than tomorrow I’ll pay for Sebastian.”

“And if he doesn’t do anything we’ll take you out.” Sebastian said.

“But that will be right after regionals.” Nick said.

“So?” Kurt said. “Unlike most my glee club I can manage rational thoughts.  I wish you well.  I’d almost like to see you smear us into the ground. Rachel didn’t get to sing in sectionals and so is the focus except when she has to give it up.  I’ll be swaying in the background again, like always, because I’m not one of the guys and I’m not a girl.  She’s even slated Blaine for a solo section even though he missed the last three weeks.”

“You know,” Sebastian said. “I don’t think I’ve heard you sing, not really.”

“No?” Nick said.

“No.  I saw Blaine because he was you guys soloist, and I know Kurt sang a duet with him for your regionals last year, but no one showed me a copy of that.”

“Eh.  It wasn’t what it should have been.  Blaine got Oscar to arrange it for his voice and to make sure Kurt’s voice wasn’t in a sweet spot.” Jeff said. “If you want to hear Kurt, you need to watch Trent’s copy of Blackbird.”

“No.  Flint’s copy of Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.  Or the one we found of Le Jazz Hot.” Nick said.

“You have a copy of Le Jazz Hot?” Kurt said.  “I’d like that sent my way.  I am rather proud of that performance.”

“Somehow Stevie gets copies of things you guys do.” Nick said.  “The things the cheerleaders do, too. I haven’t sat down to watch the cheer ones though.  Stevie keeps saying we really should.  He also keeps saying we were all stupid.”

“Please ignore all of those from spring two years ago.” Kurt said.

“Kurtie’s hiding something.” Sebastian added in a sing songy tone.

Kurt flipped him off.

“Oh, now I know we need to see those.”

“No, you don’t.  I looked absolutely ridiculous in that uniform and I had not had my growth spurt yet…not really.  I was just starting it.”

“You were a cheerleader?” Jeff squealed.

“Yes. We won Nationals.” Kurt said.

“I’m messaging Steve. Maybe he can email all of it to us.” Nick said.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Look what you started.” He said to Sebastian.

Sebastian laughed.

Kurt sighed. “I am giving you permission now to make fun of my looks then, but I will not accept teasing names based on those looks.  I no longer look like a 12 yr old milk maid, thank you very much.”

Sebastian nodded. “If you catch me teasing you using those years, I give you permission to make me show you pictures of me two years ago as well and you can tease me about those.  Even living in Paris couldn’t erase the horrors of puberty looks.”

“Deal.” Kurt replied.

“Oh My God.” Nick said, staring at his phone. “Your voice and face at the front of this Born This Way performance is just...wow.  We might have been stupid.  Stevie might be right.”

“Hey, make sure you save those so I can watch later.” Sebastian said.

“I am never going to live any of that down.  I can tell.” Kurt said.

Sebastian laughed. “Do you really want to?”

Kurt shrugged.  “Some are more embarrassing than others, but I guess everyone’s life is like that.”

“No, some of us are perfect.” Sebastian deadpanned for all of about ten seconds before breaking a smile. “You ok?  Seriously?”

Kurt nodded. “Thanks. Never thought I’d say this but I’m glad to have spent the evening with you.”

Sebastian smiled. “Call if you need me, got it.  I’m sure Nick and Jeff agree.”

Kurt nodded.

Before the week was finished Kurt had called Sebastian over a hundred times…and Nick and Jeff nearly as often.  Kurt had met Sebastian dad, and Jeff’s folks.  And Dave Karofsky was at Dalton. Dinner was held with Dave invited as well and everyone just paid for their own dinner. Kurt and Blaine had broken up within two days, so although neither Nick nor Jeff had won the bet, Sebastian’s theory hadn’t had time to come to pass.  It was fine though.  Their tentative friendship had been tossed in bud form into an inferno and only come out stronger.  Dave and Sebastian knocked sense into Kurt about universities and applications and managed to get several more out before their cut off dates for fall applications. Dave and Sebastian’s dad, of all people, helped him fill out his CV for them and Kurt realized that what he had listed…with Blaine’s and Rachel’s help for NYADA… was incomplete and inadequate and dealt much more with keeping an image (in Blaine’s case) and not looking very Diverse (In Rachel’s sake) under the guise of keeping it to topic. He also went to Coach Sylvester for a reference letter and Cassius, the co-owner of the garage.  He sent those and an amended CV to NYADA.  Although McKinley won regionals, Kurt felt like Dalton had been the true winners of the competition. Or maybe Dave.  Or Maybe even Sebastian.  His speech between songs about bullying and hate and fear left more than Kurt in tears. The money Dalton raised was used to start programs in the middle schools in several towns, including Lima and Westerville. Kurt knew it made a difference, at least for some kids.  It had made a huge difference watching the growth in them all for him.

Kurt had nightmares for years, waking in a panic covered with sweat, about what would have happened if Kurt hadn’t been on the outs with Blaine and thus had felt the need to listen when Blaine said to ignore Dave’s calls so he could spare Blaine’s feelings. Of what would have happened if Kurt hadn’t responded immediately to Dave’s social media and if Sebastian hadn’t responded immediately to Dave’s social media and gotten his father involved. Of what might have happened if they hadn’t been over when Dave’s mother found out and hadn’t been there with him still and waited until Dave’s dad got home.

But he had been on the outs with Blaine and He had been there to help Dave as he dealt with the fallout of the guys in his new school finding out his sexuality.  He and Sebastian had been able to talk to Dave’s dad and keep Dave’s mom from ranting at him too much before his dad got home. And Sebastian’s dad and Kurt’s dad had got Dave into Dalton for the last few months, where he wasn’t harassed and got counseling to help with his feelings after everything and who helped him deal with issues surrounding Universities and his other school’s response to Dave and the issues of their students against him.  And Dalton backing someone had a lot more clout then Kurt ever realized.  Kurt wished Dave had transferred to Dalton instead of him, because at Dalton Dave made friends. He had friends in every class in the student body and amongst the staff. Kurt was in awe and Sebastian just teased him because he was certain Kurt didn’t realize at all that certain staff members still talked about the boy, as did a few other students.

Kurt ended up at NYU, so he could double major in Musical theater and Costume and design and get in a healthy dose of fashion design as well.  It had been Dave’s and Sebastian’s dad’s idea and Kurt LOVED it.  It took less than two weeks of school and watching the Broadway Wannabe blogs and other drama student blogs to realize that NYADA with Rachel would have been a mistake.  She treated the school like she had high school glee club and already had a reputation for tossing tantrums when she wasn’t praised. Unfortunately she had enough teachers treating her like a queen to not allow those who didn’t to have any good effect on the girl.  But Kurt was just far enough away and Rachel was still mad at him so he wasn’t dragged into the drama.

Sebastian joined him at NYU a year later, but they didn’t go out on their first date for another year after that, even though all their friends insisted that they had been dating since the second weekend Sebastian got to New York and just hadn’t realized it. Dave teased them all the time about it. He ended up with a guy who grew up in Montana and Idaho and had come back east to ‘get some peace’ about his sexuality...and play hockey.  They both ended up unable to play before their college careers were finished because of injuries.  Patrick, Dave’s partner, ended up being a sportscaster and Dave ended up running a scouting agency. Kurt teased him, especially after the guys ended up giving Dave’s dad grand-babies, and several at that, after all when their surrogate had triplets.

Jeff and Nick teased all of them, because they called the domestic bliss they would all find way back the first week Dave was at Dalton and the others laughed at them.  Kurt just smiled as Sebastian signed them up for minding their tots, which are only a year apart so ‘close enough’ to twins to count in Dave’s and Jeff’s book.

[kivablog3]

Missing Kate

by Kiva Offenholley / © 2017 v. 4b (every time I post this it ends up slightly different, if it matters)

This needs a lot more work but by this version I’d gotten it to tell a story, and i wanted to post it to prove to everyone i’m alive and everything. The Center, of course, is the LGBTQ community center in New York. The rôle of Kate Bornstein is played by Kate Bornstein, and that of Dian Hanson by Dian Hanson. Everyone else, including me, is fictionalized.

1.

I went to get coffee that Tuesday afternoon at The Center. At least I tried to get some coffee at The Center. I came in and checked out the socially-conscious and generally well-staffed caffeine bar in the lobby, looking for one of the bouncy baristas you usually see, but there simply was no one there.

This had never happened before. But voters were streaming in and out of the auditorium, since it was Primary Election Day and The Center’s aud was being used as a polling place. This may have quickly turned the normally peaceful coffee bar into a zoo of insufficiently caffeinated primary voters with jobs to get to, and perhaps the staff were at length forced to flee. Speculation is idle, but it’s fun. At any rate it seemed that for once, no one was in charge.

So I went on out back, deciding I could spend twenty minutes or so fiddling with my iPhone. But this evening, every freaking table in the Courtyard was taken up apart from one. So I sat down and rearranged oblong things in my new bag, started to rethink where to keep my phone. I had to be at Callen-Lorde in a half-hour, more or less. It was essential. But it wasn’t time yet, it was still 6ish.

I ran into Dee in the Courtyard at the Center, which wasn’t unusual, but this night, as it happened, Kate Bornstein was speaking there. That was unusual. At 7, Dee said. I was glad to see her up and about again. I’d seen the poster before for her talk, I was just thinking about something else and didn’t really absorb the message.

I love Kate. It’s wonderful that she’s beating the cancer and I’m proud that we helped her pay for her care when she needed us, those of us who could, in this insane system of “health care,” including my wife and me. I think of her as a mother-figure, the closest I have to one anyway. I would’ve given anything to see her that night. But me, I had to be at a doctor’s appointment seven blocks away at 6:40. It was impossible to do both, I was telling Dee in what I hoped was a light tone:

“Alas, no, no, I can’t come! I have an appointment at 6:40, I totally have to be there…I was just going to get some coffee, but the auditorium is open and people are going in and out, voting”—Dee nodded—“and there’s no one out front doing the coffee, and I can’t see Kate anyway, so I guess I’ll go.” I got up again to leave. I didn’t want to talk about Kate with Dee and then not get to actually see her. There were other places to go. “…No, yes, I know, I adore her, I really wish I could stay. I do love her. The only time I met her….”

And every head, it seemed, of every other individual in the Courtyard, as far as I could tell at least, they all turned ever-so-slightly at the same time.

Yikes. Suddenly, I realized, I was talking to everyone there. Everyone else in the courtyard was there to see Kate, the Mother of Us All, I think of her as. Other people have other mother-figures, she’s mine. She’s become revered, and why not? Reverence is due, IMHO. Why wouldn’t they be there to hear her speak?

But there’s something very anti-introverted about a very shy person realizing she has suddenly, unintentionally gotten the attention of maybe twenty or more people, every one of whom, I realized at that very moment, were there to see Kate. D’oh! And then here I come along, this funny-looking old trans lady dressed like a hippie, and casually say, “The only time I met her…” This is someone who’s met her?!?

I think I actually froze, I kind of looked around without moving my head,  my eyes even, and said, I wished it was to myself only everyone could hear me: “Oh, god.” Then I pressed on.

I told an abbreviated account of my Kate story, from the time a few months after My Gender Workbook came out, it was 1998. A Different Light (the gay and lesbian bookstore, back when there was such a thing) had a monthly book club session, and this month’s meeting was about Kate’s new book. I was quite excited because they didn’t talk about transgender books often. Well, ever, or not until then at least, I think. They did Leslie Feinberg one month I think. I kept checking their little transgender niche, hoping for something new to turn up next to the crossdresser porn and the occasional zine. And she actually came, herself, when she saw it listed in the store’s newsletter. No one expected her, including Different Light, clearly, but there she was. She was curious to learn what we thought about the book, not to talk about it herself. And it was an incredibly interesting discussion, having her there with us.

She was utterly adorable. It was wonderful, just getting to talk with her afterwards: “You know, you don’t have to have the surgery,” she said at one point. It was 1998, and when transsexual women said “the surgery,” we had in mind a competent vaginoplasty. Beyond this most dared not yet dream; the important thing for a tryke was that the surgeons in Montréal apparently knew what a clit was for, understood the relationship between a penile shaft and a clitoral shaft and why all those nerve endings were there. This was quite unlike most of the surgeons around back then, who to various degrees were obsessed with vaginal depth and “vaginal orgasms” and that sort of thing, their phallocentric notion of a vagina. So when the time came, I’d go north. I liked the idea of Montréal anyway, surgery or no. “I know, other people have told me the very same thing,” I replied to my transsexual lesbian hero. “The problem for me is, everyone who tells me that, all of you, you’ve all already had the surgery….” “Okay,” she said, and laughed. “I see your point.” I think she even said something sympathetic, about understanding why I’d feel that way.

And she was right, of course. I didn’t have to have The Surgery™, and at least in New York having had it isn’t compulsory anymore, which is part of why I’m out again. It felt like the most important thing in the world, back then. I wish I could remember more of that afternoon. I wish I could see her again and just talk. Or just listen to her talk.

But I had to run that particular night, the night the Center was hosting the Primary Election as well as Kate, who really is now a living transgender legend, a living LGBTQIA legend, a real human being I had a brief conversation with once, long ago, which I can’t really remember but which I’ll never forget. Dee told me in the Courtyard that the book we’d discussed, My Gender Workbook, was the one that had helped her come out. I told her my Different Light book group story and then I said, “For me, it was just seeing her in OutWeek, in this interview in 1990, I went, ‘Oh, you mean I’m not the only one!’”

…I sensed confusion. Which wasn’t unusual; most of my weird, dry jokes made no sense to her, it seemed, she didn’t seem to care about politics in detail, and whenever the subject of lesbians came up (something that, almost always, happened because I’d included it in a convo somehow), she always looked at me rather startled, as if I’d just started to speak in French.

“You mean I’m not the only one.” I’d said it in a semi-ironic way, which is the only way people say it anymore. This is a phrase that has become a stereotypical description of that moment of self-realization for many queers, that you really are different but you’re not alone. What I’d just said could mean anything, so I pressed on: “The only trans lesbian, I mean.” Nothing. I thought, you know, Dee knew. Apparently I really was speaking in French. “She ID’d as lesbian at the time,” I said. I gestured ambiguously. Elle a une identité lesbienne aux temps. Dans les annees 90. Un autre siècle. (She had a lesbian identity at the time. In the 90s. A different century.)

My inner introvert finally seizes power: picture it, if you’ve seen it, something like in the movie Inside Out, where our hero, Riley, is 12, and she had five or six powerful new emotions struggling over the control panel. In my case, at this moment, Sheer Panic is now firmly in the driver’s seat.

I just wanted some coffee.

2.

Interlude: On Hormones

Because I am undergoing my transitional hormone therapy, I am walking around with a system, body and brain both, that is going through puberty. I have the emotional energy and emotional stability of a 13-year-old, I said the first year.

Now, I’m more like 15, Kathleen said recently; but basically, because of my hormone therapy, I now enjoy the estrogen levels normally found in a pregnant woman — or an adolescent girl. I feel everything profoundly-intensely, like an adolescent girl, the kind who spends lots of time writing in her journal, and I get as hormonal as a pregnant woman. Everything is more vivid, every feeling is feelsier. And then without warning:

Scenario: Let’s say I just felt angry and not listened-to and frustrated at being criticized for doing something slightly wrong and I was just fed up, and I was ready to go off … and it turns out that’s “being hormonal.” I didn’t understand what was going on inside Kathleen, watching from the outside. 

I’m still not sure what happens to me, on the inside. I discussed the topic a bit with my doctor, the wonder Dr. Eunmee Chun at Callen-Lorde, who finally got what I was after and said, laughing, “If you want a physiological cause, I can’t give you one.” 

Ohhhh…. Got it. That would explain why I can’t find out what the hell it is or why it happens, in a meta sense. We don’t know.

Kathleen wins the Good Sport Award for 2017 and potentially for 2018 and 2019 for this sort of thing; she says that it’s just payback for when I had to endure her: going off randomly, vividly hormonal, when she was pregnant. By that measure, I have a ways to go yet, as we say Down Home.

I remember back then, when she was pregnant, learning—someone told me, and that this was vital—that the one thing you must never, ever say to the being-hormonal woman is, “You’re being hormonal, aren’t you?” or anything else that even remotely references it. Not if you have as much estrogen in you as I do. Kathleen maintains that saying that to a being-hormonal woman who then strangles you will still return a verdict of justifiable homicide in New York State.

Kathleen even has body language that reminds me of the way I once sat: chin in hand, just looking at her—because she wanted my undivided attention—and staying silent—because saying shit made it worse—and just kind of wondering, “What the holy fuck is she so worked up about? Did I do something wrong? What the hell is wrong?? Is anything wrong?”, etc.

So, when I feel an intense emotion, especially a sudden one, it’s like the way you felt emotions in 9th grade: really, really intensely. Embarrassment, isolation, awkwardness, humiliation, things that normally make you feel bad, they all feel absolutely deadly. You hate yourself. You feel the urge to hide in your bedroom and write in your journal and cry. You feel alone. That sort of thing.

[greyshadowquestionsbeing]

I wish I could figure out how to make meet-up groups and similar socializing easier for people. People say they want this, we know loneliness is a massive issue, but I've no idea how to help.

Local LGBTQ+ social group has about 200 members, officially. Latest poll to get preferences for next month's events - 2 votes after being up 3 days.

Last two meet-ups I organizied, literally one person I didn't personally invite and ask to come showed up (same person both times). 1 meet-up had been specifically requested (an open to all but child friendly park meetup before schools go back that).

There is only one meetup event on the board by another organizer. I've ran the only events in my city for the last month+ with three others organizers all being no shows (which was not supposed to happen, new organizers are meant to get help - I’ve gotten nothing).

I really want to make this work but it seems I need to figure out the difference what people say they want to go to and what they will go to.

That, or I take one of other organizer's advice of "just put up what you want to do anyway so you have fun either way" but I don't think that's helping from how things are going so far (and if I did, it would quickly become a cake club...we have like 5+ dessert parlors plus so many more cafes with desserts and I do have that goal of finding the best hot chocolate in the city)

One person suggested I either write or get together a series of writing on loneliness to help others speak out, maybe with a meal/cake at the end to talk about it, but I'd need to run something that far out of my remit past the other organizers which - yeah. 

Just rambling to get this out of my head. I love organizing this stuff, I want to help people, I just...not sure what to do. It would be great if our local LGBTQ wasn't absolutely shite and the only gay bar left wasn't also now a shite tourist attraction so...yeah.

One day, I will have a nice book/game/dessert LGBTQ+ space. That is the dream. Right now, I just want to help get the people of my city together again after all our community spaces and resources got nerfed. We have a great history here and it’s all just falling apart 

[eastithoughtyousaidweest]

Seoul Train

6/19-6/24

Thanks for reading, you good lookin’ human, you! Whether you’re my mom (highly likely) or you’re a New York talent scout browsing the web for your next Internet superstar (slightly less likely), you’ve come to the right place. Because this, my friends, is Scotty B’s travel blog #3.

I’m actually writing this opening post about a week after I left Seoul, South Korea, staying with my friend Ben, because I haven’t had time to catch up. So it’s gonna be more of a hodgepodge of feelings and thoughts, and will most likely be semi-non-chronological. I hope that will not turn off those of you who are linear time-inclined.

Anyway, I arrived in Seoul on the afternoon of June 20 after a loooong flight across the planet. The best part of my flight was the woman sitting next to me, who was from Seoul. She initiated a conversation, and then about 10 minutes in, asked me if she could “ask me a very sensitive question about my culture.”

I said yes.

She told me she’s a leadership coach that works with a lot of businessmen, including her business partner and best friend in Albany, New York. He also happens to be gay. She brought this up because she described to me next how in Korea, it’s not socially acceptable to be gay. (After spending some time there and actually seeing some gay and trans bars in at least one neighborhood, things may be changing outside where her social circles take her, but overall, she’s right about the general taboo). However, when she comes to the U.S., she’s noticed that at the conferences she goes to, there’s been a steady trend of encountering more and more openly gay folks.

She said she truly is interested in trying to understand this better, and asked me if being gay was some kind of fad, or if it was truly these people’s identity. To which I responded that of course it was really who they are. I explained to her how many people had fought so that U.S. society would begin to open up to LGBTQ people, so that over time it’s become more acceptable to be gay.

She also asked me why there are so many gay people in the U.S. as compared to Korea, to which I responded that proportionally, it’s probably the same, but people are just not talking about it in Korea as much.

Finally, she asked me if being gay was perverse in some way, like a fetish, or if it was really how they felt. To which of course I said it’s real. “Oh, so society just distorts who they are?” she responded. Yup.

It was a super interesting insight into an outside perception and conception of homosexuality, someone who genuinely had just never lived in a place where that was accepted and so didn’t know anything about it. I’m not gay, but I still felt I’ve built enough relationships with queer folks and been exposed to a lot of gay culture to the extent that I could answer her questions confidently. But it really highlighted to me how sometimes I’ve looked at other cultures and been baffled by their beliefs or practices, but actually U.S. culture can be just as baffling to outsiders. In many ways, we’re all operating on very limited perceptions about how other places and people operate, and it’s only through conversations like this that we can start to not only understand where others are coming from, but also see that they’re much more relatable than we made them out to be. Which I think is a pretty good lesson in regards to U.S. politics these days. If we come in with a desire to understand better and are willing to give the time and energy to answer one another’s questions (of course taking into account who’s doing that answering and not putting work on marginalized people who don’t have the energy/time to do that work), maybe we’d come out a little more open-minded, a little less afraid to ask questions, and a little closer to seeing everyone as human.

---

I did a whole lot in Seoul, from history museums to saunas, street food to buffets, meeting grandparents and taking shots.

But here, I’m just gonna tell you about my favorite place I went, which I think sorta capture all the most positive experiences of Seoul.

Ben and I hiked up Bukhansan, the tallest mountain in Korea north of Seoul. Buk means north, han is the old name for the geographic region of Korea, and san is mountain. North Korea mountain. But it’s not in North Korea. It is a mountain.

Anyway, despite the misleading name, Bukhansan is a beauty. It was lush and woodsy, a lot like forests in New Jersey or the rest of the NE U.S. It was pretty damn hot, although not much hotter than Washington D.C. in the summertime; Korea is about on the same latitude as our capital, so the weather is similar. And though it was only about half a mile high, it was steep as hell. We climbed up hills, stairs, boulders, sometimes walking between railings, sometimes holding onto railings desperately as we navigated up sloping flat rock faces, trying not to slip on their smooth granite surfaces. By the time we reached the top after 3.5 hours, my thighs, calves, knees, heels, and pretty much every other nameable part of my legs were wobbling. By the time we got back down 2 hours later, they were straight up collapsing under me.

But what really was beautiful was that the whole time, it was just me and Ben. singing, rhyming, having deep talks, and just fucking around. My best college friend since literally the first day we moved into the dorms. Bringing me into his world, where he grew up until he was 10, and I felt so privileged to be the one to get to do that with him. It was even more special because even though it was his home, he hadn’t been there since he was 17, so a lot this was new to him too.

We reached the peak of Bukhansan, the other mountains like round, tan islands in the sky around us, while Seoul stood faded and grey in the distance.. We sat on the top and ate some packed lunches of Korean fast food, rice and meat and sauce, and laid on the rock together for a while. The wind whipped around us, a Korean flag fluttered above us, and a memory cemented itself between us.

Even though I probably won’t see Ben again for a long time (or at least a few months, which is comparatively a long time when you’ve spent years seeing each other daily at dining halls, gyms, and open mics) I can’t think of a more freakin beautiful way to close this chapter of our friendship and prep ourselves for a new one.

This one’s for you Benji. Mwah.

<3 Scaht