Haircuts, fail, and turkeys

I have this completely kickass job working at a day shelter (not officially a homeless shelter, because it's just open during the day to hang out, get showers, meet with caseworkers, etc. Like a big community room where you can also get social services and toothpaste.) and I am madly in love with it. I grab every hour I possibly can there. I just can't do it as my sole job because the shifts are weird (Tuesday I get to work 7:45 - 9:30 and then again 3-4:15) and I can't afford to work a random hour in the middle of the day and lose the day of subbing pay. But, the scheduler is really cool and just puts me on for 3 pm - whatever and lots of weekends. So this lead to that awesome 25 day stretch without a day off, but at no point did I feel overworked. I just love this place. It doesn't tire me at all. It's the third job ever (out of... ten?) where I'm always stoked to go to work. I have the most awesome time talking with clients, and I absolutely adore everyone I work with (hi Liam) and am always happy there. Of course, like every facet of my life, I end up explaining that no, I am not 16, and yes, I know you think I look like Liza Minnelli.

And just to make that a little more interesting... http://www.pressherald.com/news/Liza-Minnelli-coming-to-Portland.html

May God have mercy on me.

So, next story, genderforking FAIL. Although I have a very female presentation, I never really saw myself as what's displayed on the outside. I used to look in the mirror and be surprised that was what I look like. With the more I learn, the more I like to explore things like that, and, push-up bras aside (not that there's even anything to push up), I've been digging a genderless presentation lately. With that in mind, I chopped the shit out of my hair. And for the first time in a long time, I was able to look in the mirror and say "that's what I wanted." Look.

And the sweet thing about this cut is it's something different every day. Yesterday I had it in much more traditionally masculine style. The day before I took it high femme:

(That day, I felt like I looked like Prince, which made me feel like ten thousand times hotter)

It's pretty good flat on its own, too.

And because I'm am-aaazing, I totally did it all myself. I'm pretty fearless with the scissors. Considering I wanted to just shave it off in the first place, I wasn't too concerned about going too short, but really, with hair like this, it's pretty hard to feel bad if I fuck it up. It'll grow back in a week. Between the amazing stylability, and the drunken requests of my best friend, I know I'm never going back to long hair. That, and I tried it once, and I couldn't handle the mullet it was totally growing into in the interim.

So, back to the fail. First, It's not that I'm actively attempting to be identified as male, I just dig the idea of being a person, not necessarily one labelled thing. Just one of those odd things about me you wouldn't necessarily know, unless I was three beers in. Just trying to figure out who I am, and being a little in between makes me happy. But yeah, ever since cutting the hair, the amount that I get hit on at work has drastically increased. I always got a lot of comments like "you look nice today," but now I'm having to set boundaries and shit. I also tend to get a lot of comments about my shoes (leather sneakers, wtf?) but I have no idea what that's about. So, so much for making myself look less feminine.

God, epic baking fail today. I was tasked with making my grandmother's birthday cake. I checked it, it seemed close to ready, but I decided to go sit down for a minute to make sure it was cooked. And then I forgot for a half hour. It ended up cooking twice as long as it was supposed to. Glorious. Somehow, it looks like I managed to avoid burning it, but yeah, not good. It looks like it's fine, and I can still ride on that little kid "lookee what I made you! I tried my bestest!" appeal. I'll just make a pound of frosting and all sins will be forgiven.

Starting some socks for Sarayu. The pattern had a short row toe, and, just, no. I mean, I'm a good knitter, and I have MAD SKILLZ, I just don't need to flaunt them with bullshit like a short row toe. Turkish cast on all the way. I did 2 rows of it. Seriously. Megan and I went out to a sports bar and didn't want to be those weirdos knitting, and once we got to knit night, we felt kind of isolated behind the guys playing cards, so I took a risk (ah, God love my intense shyness that no one believes exists) and got up to join a conversation on the other side of them. I was too busy talking to care about knitting, so I just never bothered. I had a fun night, too. It was a good day off. Oh, that's right! NEW PARAGRAPH!

Yesterday was my first day off in a month! And yet I still woke up at 8 am. Because my body is now totally incapable of sleeping. I didn't feel like getting out of bed, so I did the only reasonable thing and read my car's owner's manual, which is naturally next to my bed, and learned how to use my air conditioner. It was 37 yesterday. By the time I got off the couch to take a shower (cough 4 pm) my ass was sore from sitting still. I kept wanting to call work and tell them I can come in, please please please. Having a day off felt weird and wrong. I did make something of my afternoon when I found a website that shows Mystery Science Theater all damn day, so I finished this baby hat I made for my boss and watched MST3K all day. My evening was a little more exciting, since I met one of my awesome girlfriends to go to a sports bar and watch the Sox game. We shared some spinach and artichoke dip, had some beers, and then went over to knit night. I got to see everyone I like, stayed until close, and had a great time.

Ok, one last story. So, you know you live in the middle of nowhere, when... your grandmother makes you get out of the shower to come check out the turkey fight in your backyard. PSA: Turkeys are fucking huge. I do not need them getting all territorial and shit in my backyard. Like the outdoors isn't scary enough already. I'll just be in the fetal position on the floor of my closet if you need me. Then, last night, I was late to Megan's because I went to get in my car and GIANT FUCKING TURKEY just wandering around. I hauled ass back inside before it could peck my eyes out as vengeance for the sandwich I had Thursday night. And intimidate me with its freaky neck penis.

Seriously, what is that?

I have many more bizarre stories about my Life of Perpetual Work, but, they'll wait, so I have fodder for more entries.