Big (Belated) Announcement!

Hm. I wish I hadn't called it that. Now you're all going to be expecting something huge from me and it's not really anything that is going to affect anyone's lives. Sorry for the anti-climax after a considerable absence (y'know me, I get bored with stuff easily).

Here, have some M&Ms. Sit down. As you may already know (seeing as like, 2 people who aren't already my friends on Facebook read this blog) or may have guessed, I'm trans. Surprise! Just to clarify, I'm FTM which stands for female-to-male. I was assigned female at birth and now I'm transitioning to male because like hell I'm a girl! No chance. Appearances can be deceiving.

Like that. I'm not a really messy eater with a penchant for chocolate ice cream, promise. I was attempting to dye my beard. It turns out that, despite slathering Minoxidil on my chin daily, I don't actually have a beard. But I do have sideburns so that's OK, I guess. Plenty of time to grow a beard in the future.

So I reckon that's pretty much all you need to know. If you're wondering why I didn't come out earlier, there was always something stopping me before, whether it was knowing that I wouldn't be supported or believed, a high risk of discrimination from pupils and teachers *squints at old secondary school* or being plain confused or terrified by my own feelings. I tried to brush it aside and be super feminine but newsflash: it didn't work. So the 11 year old who tucked their hair under their hat and demanded that their friends call them Tyler has grown into a 23 year old who, at 5ft tall, is quite possibly the shortest adult man in his region.

That's the actual hat in that photo. Anyway, now that the not-so-big announcement is out of the way, we come back to the subject of this blog. I'm not great at updating, obviously. But I want to use my voice. My online voice, since my real voice sounds like Tinkerbell on a tankload of helium. I don't want to make the blog exclusively about transliness and trangst  (a portmanteau of trans and angst - patent pending) because that's not what any of you signed up for but this blog IS Bluecolic and I'm Blue and being trans is quite a big part of my life, whether I want it to be or not. If I'm not feeling so dysphoric I cancel my birthday plans (true story), I'm fretting about going to the GIC so I can finally start testosterone. What if they don't think I'm trans enough? What if they won't let me go on testosterone, what will I do? I really need this. 22 years of living as a girl (although the last few years were kind of sketchy seeing as I wore a chest binder and delighted in my androgyny online) was quite enough, thanks. That was a tangent. A transgent? Shut up Blue, no one cares about your portmanteaus! About the blog. It will probably proceed as planned. Short stories (assuming they're still my intellectual property, I actually have to check that), stuff about asexuality, mental illness, cats, all the things that are really important. But now there'll be trangst. Fun(!) And I'll probably change the background to the trans flag or something because 'The Bell Jar' reminds me of my 2014/2015 mental breakdown.

I guess that's all for tonight. Thanks for stopping by - my cats and I appreciate it!

Blue

xoxo

Asexual Awareness Week - Acephobia or How I Learned That People Are Super Mean and You Should Probably Ignore Them.

"I'm too asexy for my shirt, too asexy for my shirt, so asexy it hurts!"

- Blue, inspired by Right Said Fred

Alright, alright, don't look at me like that. I know. I know it's been nearly a year since I last posted and I know you probably thought I'd never post again but you were wrong. I'm just super lazy and unmotivated. But I'm feeling OK. Not too tired. And just as well because it's Asexual Awareness Week everybody! *cheers*

So Blue is back to depress you with a whole bunch of personal anecdotes (and screenshots) of acephobia. It's like homophobia but against asexuals because some people are surprisingly upset that others don't feel sexual attraction. Sucks to be them, I guess.

OK, so, because it's AAW, I should probably spread awareness. I am by no means an expert, all I have is my own experience. For information, look at AVEN (Asexual Visibility & Education Network) and if that's not enough, check out Asexual ACES on Facebook. I can't provide links because I'm technologically inept but you're smart people and I am confident in your abilities to use a search engine. Anyway, with no further ado, here's acephobic screenshots to show that actually, people are against people not having sex. Vehemently so. Warning: Mean/idiotic people ahead.

So, there's some acephobia for you. It exists. Typical erasure sort of stuff. That's just the stuff I remembered to screenshot and of course, this only covers online acephobia. It happens a lot. It's not cool. That's pretty much all I have to say on the matter. Don't be like these people. I'll try and get some more positive asexual posts up...but I promise nothing! G'night!

The Blurt Foundation's Buddy Box

"Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see."

- Mark Twain.

About a month ago, I was feeling pretty down (which isn't that uncommon in people with clinical depression). Trying to distract myself from the emptiness, I scrolled through Facebook when something caught my eye. A suggested post from a page called Blurt Foundation. There was a photo of a box full of goodies accompanying the post; I was intrigued. I clicked onto their website and read about this box - a Buddy Box.

People who have mental health issues or simply want a pick-me-up can order a Buddy Box for themselves off the website - you can also order for a friend if you're that kind hearted, you just need their address. You can buy a one off box or a variety of subscriptions. To my blogging friends, you can also apply to get a free box to make a post just like this on your blog. I didn't because I have 3 followers so I don't have much to offer in the way of advertising! I just ordered one normally because I can't face rejection.

So that's how you order them. Onto the contents! They're usually things that will lift your spirits or distract you - I've heard people talk about colouring books and craft projects in previous boxes but here's what I got in my box.

1: A box of tea

Weirdly for a Brit, I don't drink tea. Just don't like the taste. But I know it will be appreciated by someone else. A friend or the LGBT centre or something. Passing it on will give me a nice self esteem boost, fighting the self hatred that is characteristic of most mental illnesses. 

2: A candle

This smells pretty strong! But hey, what else will cover up the smell of the kittens' litter tray? I'm not really clued up on the effects of plants but maybe geranium and basil scents are soothing or relaxing. I'll have to do my research there.

3: A game

OK, I absolutely loved this! It's the perfect distraction. It says it's for 4 or more players which was off putting because I don't have enough friends to make a group of 4 but it's fun for just two players. Mum and I did a test run and she was amused and befuddled by my impersonations and attempts to describe who I was talking about without using the words on the card. I think this game will be even funnier with my brother so I'll probably get more use out of this game before the year's up.

4: Fridge magnets

Now these are funny! Even if Mum won't let me use the fridge, I'll have to find a magnetic board for my room and print out pictures of myself, my cats and my family and friends so I can stick our photos up with moustaches! What do you think, would I suit a handlebar or a Fu Manchu moustache more?

5: Smelly oil

Honestly, I'm not crazy about the smell of eucalyptus. I'm also not sure what vaporising oil is. Like, does it evaporate? I don't know.  I'll probably ask around my friends and see if any of them koala-fy to take this oil off my hands. Get it?! Koala-fy?! Because koalas eat eucalyptus leaves! Hahaha - oh my, I am just too much! 

6: A personal message

This is probably intended for people who are sending a box to a friend but I've made a habit of sending uplifting messages to myself via email (not for the hell of it, just when I had to send myself a document) so I attached a message for myself with a cute little pun because who doesn't love a pun? Present means two things! 

7: This card

This. I love this idea. Remember what I said earlier about kindness to others being beneficial to your own self-esteem? Yeah. Prime example right here. How good am I going to feel after leaving this for someone else to read whatever lovely words I choose to write and hopefully gaining a slight bit of happiness or maybe leaving it for someone else who needs it more? I mean, I haven't figured out what to write on it. Or where to leave it, for that matter. Maybe in a book at Waterstones? Is that legal? I mean, the books don't belong to me. But it can't be illegal to tuck a card between the pages? Can it? OK, it's probably not meant to cause this much anxiety! 

So there's the sort of things you can expect from a Buddy Box. Pretty cool huh? Please check out Blurt Foundation on Facebook or at their website. I would put a link but I don't know how to and I'm way too tired to learn how at the moment. But I know you are clever people who can navigate the internet - unlike yours truly!

Have a good night, everyone

Questions, questions...

"I think buses always existed but until the 1960s they were invisible so only the wealthy, in the know people could use them."

- Toby (that's my brother. He's very wise).

I have noticed that, as of late, this blog has become less interactive. That is primarily my fault because I don't post enough. Sorry. Still, it makes me feel lonely (I say with a kitten purring in my arms).

Enough of my whinging.

So what do you want to see on this blog? I have a couple of book reviews and factual posts lined up, plus a promotional post - with fan art and nice things people have said about me and stuff. Just because. But maybe none of you are interacting because you're bored out of your skulll with my nonsense. Or you're busy but try telling my paranoia that! I want you to be interested. I want to feel I have a purpose and that I matter to people. I don't want my blog, my online voice, to be ignored when I've had my real voice ignored for so long (because it's high pitched and annoying, I suspect). So what will garner your interest? What do you want to see written about?

Oh...and on the subject of writing, I really want to start writing again. I haven't written in a while, what with mental breakdowns and stuff preventing me but I've a couple of ideas. Just short stories, nothing major. But what's the point of writing if no one sees it? Would story posts interest you? I don't want to write up a whole story only to be told it's awful so I was wondering if I could post a story I've already written and have had sitting around for a while. It's six pages long so it might need to be posted as a two parter. I normally wouldn't ask permission to post on my own blog but it's important to me that you, as an audience, actually enjoy my posts rather than ignoring them because they do not interest you. A blog is nothing without followers. Well, it's obviously something (namely a blog) but it's rubbish.

So - ideas? Anything in particular you want me to post about? Any books you'd like reviewed? Do you want to read the short story I wrote at 16 years old and offer criticism that I may use to improve my writing? It's your call.

Asexuality & Being Ace!

"For a long time, I didn't know what I was. I knew what I wasn't. I wasn't interested in boys. But I really wasn't interested in girls"

- Tim Gunn.

This is an educational little post. I have recently been embroiled in many discussions and debates regarding my sexuality. In case you don't know and didn't bother reading the title, I am asexual. It's a simple concept: we are simply people who do not feel any urges to do the sexy time. We're not children. We don't have hormone issues. We are, in general, healthy and happy (enough). We just have no desire for sex. Easy to understand, huh?

Apparently not.

Whilst people rarely argue against the existence of heterosexuality, homosexuality and bisexuality, they just cannot wrap their minds around the idea of no sexuality at all. Sexuality is assumed to be an all encompassing thing - something that every post-adolescent human has. But humanity is so much more complex than that and, for whatever reason, some of us end up with zero sexual urges whatsoever. I know because I am like that.

If you're wondering, my particular "brand" of asexuality is homoromantic asexuality. That means I am romantically attracted to females but experience no sexual attraction. "What's the difference?" I hear you cry. Well, romantic attraction is when you want to be in a couple-y relationship with someone. You know the sort, going out to dinner and watching DVDs in bed and buying chocolates on Valentine's Day. I'm also cool with hugging, holding hands and kissing but that differs from person to person - some asexual people find kissing to be too sexual and find no pleasure or interest in it. Sexual attraction is when you want to screw someone. I've never felt that so I can't go into any more detail but I think it describes itself, really.

I can't be bothered to quote any facts or statistics (it's late and I'm tired!) so I'll just direct you to AVEN. It's the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network, I believe. Just type AVEN into your internet browser and it should come up. It's a pretty good website and should answer any and all questions you may have. If it doesn't, feel free to ask me what you want to know in the comments below.

From a little AVEN search myself, I discovered that aces sometimes wear a black ring to identify themselves to other aces. After being slightly put out that I wasn't informed of this earlier, I of course began looking for black rings and I found a beautiful one. Soon I will be in on this not-so-secret identification method, mwah ha ha!

I reckon that's it for now. This isn't going to be my last post on the matter of asexuality. I plan to do a post on the discrimination I've faced due to being asexual (plus screenshots. Funnily enough, people don't have the balls to tell me I don't exist to my face) and maybe I will see if I can find other asexuals to interview for a post. Might even do a post on percentages and whatnot for the people who weren't curious enough to go to AVEN. Which is totally fine, no one's forcing you to be interested if you find the subject completely snoresville.

Anyway, I must be away to bed. That's numero uno on the Asexual Agenda. Ta-ra!

In Memoriam.

"Mew! Prrrp!"

- Papillon.

"Meoooooow!"

- Arnie.

So I was going to re-post Papillon's memorial post on the 9th October, the 3 month anniversary of his death, remember? Well, screw that. Arnie's heart failure was worse than we thought. And it was HEART FAILURE, we already thought it was awful! Basically, he stopped eating and went downhill really fast. He went to the vets for an appetite stimulant and the vet confirmed that he was just getting worse - he was even struggling to breathe. He's gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

Now the depressing explanation is over, on to the eulogies. That's right, this is still Pappy's post but I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing with his brother. They were close enough to use each other as pillows, I'm sure they'll be close enough to share a eulogy post.

Pappy, I still miss you so much. Seeing you go from a cool, collected kitty to a whimpering cat who spent more time in the litter tray than anywhere else was horrible. But I'm going to remember you as you used to be. You were calm (barring your mad half hours) and constantly had a look of mild disdain on your fuzzy face. You knew you were Top Cat, at least in my eyes. You had us wrapped around your paws with your adoring purrs, wide eyes and bristly tail.

You even high fived me, you were so smart. OK, you sometimes came across as a little dumb like when you tried to jump a gap a couple of inches and somehow missed it. I'm sure you meant to do that. And when you went to catch a spider that was on the curtain but when you swatted it, it fell onto the floor. You looked at it and decided you were too cool to give chase. We never did find out where that spider ran off to. But you weren't always like that. Less than a week before your death, you and Arnie teamed up to kill a moth that was terrorising me. People say that cats don't care about their owners but I know you loved us.

And boy, did you disprove that theory, Arnie! You ADORED Murdo. And the feeling was mutual. He loved you - he said hello to you before Mum when he got in from work. You were his beloved son. Such a daddy's boy. You loved him just as much as you loved your catnip mouse, Fluffy. That's a lot! Murdo wasn't even a cat person until we got you. You were just that endearing.

Despite how much you were pampered and coddled, you still battled your brother for dominance - remember when you killed a fly and ate it in front of us to assert your dominance? You tried, bless you. You were always a little goofy though, what with your habit of taking food out of your bowl, dropping it and eating it off the floor. And that time when Mum petted you and you freaked out and fell off the sofa. Silly cat! You were so soft and cuddly though. And so vocal! I noticed that changing since your stroke brought on by heart disease. You were so quiet. You barely meowed when I handed Fluffy to you. But I know you're out of pain now. And Pappy will meet you at the Rainbow Bridge. It'll be great to see your brother again, won't it? No fighting, you two!

Now the last of the 5 kittens we got when I was 14 has gone, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I'll just focus on Elsa and Rae. Hopefully, they'll be healthy and live for like, 18 years. You two deserved so much more time with us. Luck was never on our side. But your lives were full of love, treats and cuddles (however unappreciated they were), even if they were too short. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. All I can do is hope you're happy now. I will love you forever and I will never forget you.