In #dw IRC, some Amusing Underwear Theatre.

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Unusual.

Why do I feel so screamingly uncomfortable in a space that's supposed to be women-only? I feel claustrophobic.

Fandom, even the parts of it that are crazy, don't make me feel this trapped, even though LJ slash fandom is a high-female sort of space. Bake you cookies and write you porn.

I can't quite put my finger on what it is that I'm reacting to, nor what part of me it is that's reacting so much, nor quite what I want to do other than get out, get away. It's not the part of me that likes my skirts and my long hair. I's not the part of me that likes my makeup.

Part of it, I think, is the nature of the space, and my chaotic, infovore self rebels against rules that are boxes and not stickers. I don't want to be in the box. I don't mind having a name badge and stickers, because those aren't shackles. A box is a prison, and I want no part of that.

11 tweets for 2009-5-26

In the last 24 hours, I posted the following to Twitter:

• Tuesday, 0054: SKULLBUTT THE TORMENTOR
• Tuesday, 0215: There's only one person for whom I'd look at a box, and he's not here.
• Tuesday, 1219: I have bubble wrap.
• Tuesday, 1245: http://leftoverresearchquarterly.dreamwidth.org/profile ftw. Researched something for writing, but have more things to say than fit?
• Tuesday, 1325: Time to go take aunt to appointment
( read the other 6 )

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