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Nov. 28th, 2021 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogmajickI forgot to hit post lol
Tomorrow is my birthday and just in case I forgot, LiveJournal has sent me a notification for every journal I forgot to delete.
After a very lazy morning, once Cody showers and gets the laundry going, I'm going to have Jake help me put up some Christmas. Can't do the tree til tomorrow because we decorate the tree on my birthday. But this apartment is decoratable now that we've gotten rid of half our shit and every bit of trash. I have lights for the windows, my nutcrackers, just a ton of stuff I've never really been able to put up.
I do not get breast cancer culture. The warrior-fighter-faith-strength shit. The pink ribbons and pink EVERYTHING that don't really benefit breast cancer medicine. Everything's so fucking uplifting. IDK, it seems so precious and trite. Very Rae Dunn live laugh love cis white woman idea of what a fight is. I don't feel like I'm fighting shit. I feel like I'm waiting. I'm not fighting, I'm cutting off my tits so this can't happen again. I am so lucky this isn't metastic. I'm sure if it was a more scary, aggressive cancer I'd appreciate breast cancer culture more, but idk. A lot of it feels disingenuous. No one cared when I was in the psych ward. No one cared when I couldn't walk. No one gave a shit when I lost 40lb in 2 months. No one cared when I was puking up blood. I just needed to lose weight. But now I have a tumor that isn't even doing anything and NOW people are all "Oh, I'm so sorry you have cancer!" Like...idk how to explain it. It's probably capitalism.
OK, but this came up when I was searching mastectomy tops and the Grinch that stole Tit-mas is cracking me up.
I have make up on. I need to sleep. I want to wear make up to work. The feminine urge to just sleep in it and freshen it up for work rather than take it all off and put it all back on.
I did some christmas
Tomorrow is my birthday and just in case I forgot, LiveJournal has sent me a notification for every journal I forgot to delete.
After a very lazy morning, once Cody showers and gets the laundry going, I'm going to have Jake help me put up some Christmas. Can't do the tree til tomorrow because we decorate the tree on my birthday. But this apartment is decoratable now that we've gotten rid of half our shit and every bit of trash. I have lights for the windows, my nutcrackers, just a ton of stuff I've never really been able to put up.
I do not get breast cancer culture. The warrior-fighter-faith-strength shit. The pink ribbons and pink EVERYTHING that don't really benefit breast cancer medicine. Everything's so fucking uplifting. IDK, it seems so precious and trite. Very Rae Dunn live laugh love cis white woman idea of what a fight is. I don't feel like I'm fighting shit. I feel like I'm waiting. I'm not fighting, I'm cutting off my tits so this can't happen again. I am so lucky this isn't metastic. I'm sure if it was a more scary, aggressive cancer I'd appreciate breast cancer culture more, but idk. A lot of it feels disingenuous. No one cared when I was in the psych ward. No one cared when I couldn't walk. No one gave a shit when I lost 40lb in 2 months. No one cared when I was puking up blood. I just needed to lose weight. But now I have a tumor that isn't even doing anything and NOW people are all "Oh, I'm so sorry you have cancer!" Like...idk how to explain it. It's probably capitalism.
OK, but this came up when I was searching mastectomy tops and the Grinch that stole Tit-mas is cracking me up.
I have make up on. I need to sleep. I want to wear make up to work. The feminine urge to just sleep in it and freshen it up for work rather than take it all off and put it all back on.
I did some christmas