Warning: Post contains cheer and happiness. Proceed at own risk.

Hello, people!
I have to say, I get pretty hard by SAD, (Seasonal Affective Disorder) although it's more to do with sleep problems and lowered immune system etcetera that the serious 'SAD depression' issues. And these last few days have been glorious!

For some reason, whilst half asleep and on my way to school, I made the 'decision' to be happy. You know what they say; if you smile on the outside you'll feel happier immediately, blah de blah. Well, such a decision would never have worked in the winter, but boy has it worked this week! I've been freaking people out with my pep levels, actually. ^_^
I'm especially happy as I know that I work better in the summer, academically- and I've just taken the first (of many) GCSE exams.
I also credit my happy-increase to my black ring, and... Wait for it... Rainbow coloured nail varnish! Yes, that's right, I can be cheered up to the point of I-want-to-smack-that-girl-she's-so-damn-happy with simple bright colours and sunshine.


Hey, wait. I'm a human being, and we're pretty complex animals. So why do such simple things cheer us up? Why wasn't I told about how easy this was?

Meh, maybe it's a global conspiracy to keep psychiatrists in business. We'll never know.

I'm just off to to enjoy the sunshine!

P.S Another reason for my happiness may be credited to this Awesome Tattoo (temporary) that I got yesterday. Caketastic!

Mah New Black Ring!

I started this blog not too long after buying my first Black Ring. As you may know (from AVEN, my previous post or off the back of a cereal packet) a black ring worn on the middle finger is an asexual symbol... And a great excuse to swear at someone and get away with it. Joking!

Anyway, I'm very proud of my new ring. Not only is it spiffy, but in wearing it I get to experience the warm fuzzy feeling whenever I look down at it; a little anchor and a sense of ... Not 'belonging' as such, but a little push in the right direction when I feel a little lost. For example, whilst walking through town I was confronted by the sight of a crowd of people, some of whom I know, and- to cut a long story short- it was a little uncomfortable.

The feeling of my LBR (heehee, a new take on the staple dress acronym*) on my ring just gave me the right amount of smug self-confidence to not feel icky and walk away as fast as my legs would carry me.

And here it is!

You can't see it too well, now that you mention it. I got a, um, little carried away with the awesomeness of the ring for mere photographic clarity and detail. How silly of me.

*=And a Little Black Book, now you mention it. Wow, the black ring can become and insta-cliche! Success!

Appearance as 'art': Part 2

WARNING;

Introspection below. Proceed at own risk.

I don't find people sexually attractive. I'm asexual. But I still notice other people and their appearance. I'm not "face-blind" (although I've never looked at someone and thought them hot or sexy), but I will still turn my head when an interesting person walks by- purple hair? Nice cheekbones? I notice stuff like this. But why do I notice these things?

I could argue that I'm drawn to 'pretty' people the same reason others are, but because I don't find them sexually attractive the desire isn't there. My friends will look at an attractive person and occasionally make "Pwhoar" comments. The 'pretty' person is desirable to them, and they 'want' them.

But I don't have that desire, and so I can't comprehend the reason I'm drawn to a picture in a magazine or a face in a crowd.

Usually, if I look at someone, by the second glance any 'zing' that made me look at them is gone. No matter how I search for it, I can't put my finger on what made me look at them in the first place.

Why is this?

Asexy Meetup Part 2

Well.

That was a lovely time.

In spite of the fact that there was nearly an hour gap between the first arrival and the last, and the fact that the combined efforts of myself and one other person got me hopelessly lost, the meet-up was a resounding success. The pedaloes, although not in attendance, were meant to be the crux of the entire meet and so we ended up walking round in circles for a few hours, chatting, and then eating, and then desperately running (or climbing up hills and jumping fences ;D) to the respective stations/buses home.

Although we didn't end up sticking to any form of itinerary, it was lovely to see my fellow AVENites in the flesh and I am sincerely glad that I took the time to (try) to organise a (dubiously planned) meet. I probably wouldn't have shown up to any meet other than 'my own', coward that I am, and as well as not missing out on a wonderful day I've also given myself the courage to attend a meet the next time an opportunity arises.

Thank you, fellow AVENites. I'm glad the promise of pedaloes could lure you there :D

Asexy Meetup Part 1

Well, the plan's finally come to fruition. After weeks of careful and not-so-careful planning, I'm hoping to hop on a bus tomorrow and meet some wonderful people and have a great time. I'm all set with my pirate flag, ready to take Exeter by storm with my fellow Pedalo Pirates!

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As this is my first meet, I'm a tad anxious. What if the day doesn't go smoothly, I don't enjoy it, am put off attending future days etc... I've promised myself that I'll go in with an open mind, try not to be too negative, and above all, tamp my oddness down to a minimum :P

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I'll present you all with Part 2 later tomorrow.

On a different note, how has everyone's April Fool and Good Friday been? I hope you weren't the butt of too many pranks. ;D

Appearance as 'art'

I've come across the "asexuals don't need sexual partners, so why bother?" question a few times, being asked with varying degrees of sarcasm, ignorance and sometimes irony.

And my answer- as with most other people- is that I'm not hyped up about my appearance in that sense (Why the skintight crop tops, ladies? *wail*), but by heck do I like to make an effort. When I'm out of the Funny Farm :P and in public, I walk past perfect strangers who look at me an make judgements based on what they see. I'm not generalising, here (I hope). I meant judgements as in "I love those Doc Martens" or "I might have to copy that some time" or "hehe, nice banana suit". My appearance is what 'speaks' to these people, and although I'm not saying you should let complete strangers dictate how you should dress, I also think this applies to other areas as well as wandering round towns and cities. Meeting new people? Unless we aren't looking forward to it, we generally take a conscious effort to portray a certain 'image'. As the old saying(s) go, "a picture is worth a thousand words" and... Some other ones I forgot, hehe.

Anyway, I take pride in my appearance as almost an art form. I often make my own accessories and jewellery, and I'm proud enough of what I make to want to display it. If I want to look serious, I'll change what I'm wearing to reflect that.

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Fashion isn't just for peacocks, people.

:D

Of Missing Teeth and Children

I just arrived from the dentist, having had 2 more teeth extracted (I had 2 taken out last week too, to make room in my 'small' jaw). I won't bore you with the bloody details- literally- but as I have to spend the day resting and not being able to speak, I thought it was a good time to put my thoughts out through another medium- typing.

I'm a bit of a wuss when it comes to certain types of pain- especially the afterpain of extractions. I've been told by more than a few people that "when I have kids, I'll be useless" as a joke, and my dentists' assistant, a lovely lady, asked me how I was going to cope when I had kids.

But why did they have to say 'when'?

I live in the UK, where almost 1 in 5 women choose (or not) not to have children. Yet the prevailing attitude is that because I am a girl, I will have them. Not if, but when. It's apparently my 'fate'.

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[/pain induced rubbish] I think I'll go bash my jaw in with a sledgehammer now.