Posted in Life

The Tea of the Day is: Cream of Earl Grey

Appelsin is such a buttface. I was trying peacefully look at Harry Potter fan theories and memes, when this little, clawed, fuzzy, ninja, indoor panther decides to attack my laptop from the bottom. I’m sitting on the couch with my right foot firmly on the floor, and my left foot crossed over onto my right knee, thus creating a small table for my laptop. The small space between my thunder thighs is just open enough so Appelsin can jump up and attack. So when I lift my laptop up, there is a small little kitten face staring at me. I can’t help but laugh because there is a pussy in between my legs.

I fucking hate the holidays. I keep asking Birth Giver if we can just cancel xmas. I’m not religious so I don’t give a shit about a “virgin” giving birth to some spawn of a god. Xmas always meant receiving presents, spending so much on gifts for others, and counting down the days until January 1st. I always feel like such a fucking brat on xmas, because I have my list and when I don’t get what I put on my list I feel horrible. Sometimes I have moments when I receive something I didn’t ask for, and am in awe of it. But that doesn’t happen too much.

I remember one year Birth Giver gave me this knitting circle thing. I guess I made such a face when I opened it. Birth Giver asked if I liked it, I responded “no” because I was told lying is bad. Apparently I wasn’t suppose to tell the truth either? The fucking asshat (abuser) started yelling at me saying I wasn’t suppose to tell Birth Giver that I didn’t like the gift she picked out for me. I don’t remember the year but it was at least 12 years ago. I still feel like it was recently. This is what the holidays do to me, bring up so much horrible memories. I hate decorating the house for the holidays I find it such a waste of time, plus I noticed that my anxiety skyrockets when I focus on the decorations. This past week I’ve had difficulty breathing when I was upstairs by the xmas tree. I don’t want there to be a reason for me to give gifts to those I care about, I rather give them as just because moments, or I saw this and thought of you moments.

I’m getting worked up again, but I needed to let out my thoughts. Appelsin is squeaky breathing, she’s not asleep, but breathing heavily enough that the air coming out of her snoot makes little squeaks. She’s now curled up in Orey’s bed. Stereotypical kitty. Orey is asleep on one of Birth Giver’s tote bags. He’s definitely a mama’s boy. My tea is delicious, so that helps my emotions, I guess.

On a slightly separate topic, how did the phrase “monsters under the bed” come to be socially acceptable? I never feared monsters under my bed, when I was young I would crawl under my bed to escape the monsters. As I grew, I couldn’t fit under my bed. Stupid Trisomy X Syndrome. When I would switch to different beds I couldn’t fit under those either, I would try hiding between my bed and the wall, but nothing seemed to protect me. I tried hiding in the closet too, but that would mean I would have to clean out all the shit I put in there when I was told to clean my room. When my parents divorced, I think I was the only one who was very excited over it. For years I would wish for them to get a divorce, I was terrified of the fucking asshat who claimed to be my father. I still don’t trust fatherly figures, yes I understand not all men are fucking asshats to their offspring, but there are some that are, and they terrify me. I guess I’m always on edge when I’m around young children because I get flashbacks of when I was a young tater tot and had to find ways to protect myself. (My eyes aren’t watering, yours are.)

When I’m with friends who have offspring, I desperately try to push away my memories and be in present moment. It’s difficult, so I guess that’s why I don’t go out in public a lot?

I’ve been wanting to write this post for awhile, get it out of my head. I took a lot of motivation for me to do so, I’m glad I finally did get it out, perhaps some of the nightmares will leave my head too?

~SirChangeling

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I May Be Ridiculous, But I Don’t Have Cousin Rivalry

Me: So I googled cousin rivalry, since you think I have it with Lynn. There wasn’t anything in the definition that mentioned wanting to sacrifice cousins in order to bring back dead dogs. Therefore I highly doubt I have it. Research happened when I was waiting for my medication to be done. I was getting pissed off since I can’t sacrifice her to bring Bailey back.

Birth Giver: You’re ridiculous.

Me: I was angrily pouting inside.

Birth Giver: Absolutely ridiculous.

(The medication is for my allergy to cold weather)

~SirChangeling

Posted in Life

True Life: Apparently I’m a Grown Ass Woman

I noticed something on my birthday, April 3rd. Despite turning 25, I don’t feel, or rather I don’t see myself as an adult. In fact ever since I turned 18 I never see myself as an adult. I always feel like a child in this strange body. I’ve asked friends if they ever feel as though they are trapped in a body that isn’t their own, not in a transgender way, but as a “yo-this-body-doesn’t-fit-my-age.” Friends have informed me that no they do not feel that way. I let Birth Giver know, and asked if it was part of having Trisomy X, plus being on the Autism Spectrum, she said it is possible.

The event that gave me the epiphany:

~FLASHBACK~

T’was the evening of Monday April 3rd, this vision takes place at a Shaw’s grocery store. All I wanted was a toy in the 75 cent machine. The toy was called “Dogs in Disguises” Despite already having one- Diablo, a white dog disguised as the devil- I wanted to see what my chances were of getting a different one. I put three quarters in the machine and turned. CLICK. Open the flap, no toy. WTF! Shit, now I have to go get my refund of 75 cents. When this happens at Hannaford they give me my refund of 75 cents not problem, it has happened more than once so the workers at Hannaford know the drill. However Shaw’s did not know the drill. The workers at Shaw’s told me they don’t control the toy machines, since they’re controlled through a vendor. I know this, I just want my 75 cent refund. Lady from customer service followed me back to the scene of the crime, aka where robots ate my money. She asked a bagger what to do in this situation, he said he didn’t know, page the manager? Manager was paged, after a few more back and forth conversations, I was finally able to get my 75 cent refund. First I had to fill out a form, because of course I did. I put my preferred last name “Sir-Potato” since the whole ordeal was ridiculous. While this was happening, Birth Giver and her bf were wondering what was taking me so long. In the car ride back Birth Giver said from her point-of-view it was looking like ‘better give this grown ass woman her 75 cents back before shit goes down!’ Oh. This explains the reaction of the workers at Shaw’s, see I saw everything as, ‘humans are being rude! Robots ate my 75 cents, please just give me my refund and I’ll be on my way.’ This whatever it is, also explains the reaction from the bagger and cashier when I was offered the entire roll of stickers at Trader Joe’s one time. IT ALL MAKES SENSE! HUMANS SEE ME AS A GROWN ASS ADULT! SO OF COURSE THEY’RE GOING TO GIVE ME WEIRD GLARES, WHEN I DO WEIRD SHIT.

~END FLASHBACK~

Since this power of knowledge has absorbed my mind, I of course have been reliving so many embarrassing memories, all of them are when I’m trying to fall asleep. So I’ll be up at night fighting my past memories, it’s difficult to fight them alone, which is why I’m so grateful that Boobsie comes running out of nowhere, to help calm me down. I usually fall asleep petting his fluffy belly, since I am allowed to do so. I also tend to wake up, with my hand still on his fluffy fur.

I think it’s interesting when I let other humans know that I am on the Autism Spectrum. They don’t believe me at first, but why would I lie about that? I’m not a believable liar, I would test lies out on a nosey neighbor, (made up relatives died) I mean there was that one time I convinced an elderly couple that Birth Giver named me Potato when I was born, because when I popped out of her I was such an ugly child. I have no idea how I was able to keep such a still face when telling them this, because every time I retell the memory I am cracking up. I bet it’s because of my great acting…which is like the acting in porn. Cringe worthy. I know I can’t act, which is why I’m always surprised when someone believes a lie. Am I learning how to properly lie? Or am I just magical? Probably magical, I am a changeling after all!

Photo time!

A teddy bear dog (Orey) snuggling a gay leather daddy teddy bear (Bun Bun):

FB_IMG_1491391648999

Boobsie:

hugs!
He’s giving me hugs!
sent to Lucas
I sent this picture to Strange Danger to wish him luck on his shift one night.
20170408_124722
I had some poo on my thumb.

Whenever I do or say something questionable, I tell myself “I’m an adult!” As though to make whatever I just did seem totally acceptable.

~SirChangeling

Morning Conversation with Birth Giver 

Me: When I die I want to be….uhhhh I forget the word…

Birth Giver: Cremated?

Me: No

Birth Giver: Stuffed?

Me: Yes, but the other word for it.

Birth Giver: Taxidermied.

Me: Yes. As well as a basket full of the chocolate cake from work.

Birth Giver: That’s really creepy. “Here have some chocolate cake from my dead daughter.”

Me: It has to be the good chocolate cake though!

Birth Giver: Okay, here have some of the good chocolate cake from my dead daughter.

Me: Exactly!

~SirChangeling