Brew Yr Own

Sometimes I sit in my bed at 2 a.m. and have so much stuff
floating around in my head that I can't actually even write
it down.  So I scribble some disconnected, nonsensical
notes and post them here.
-M

D told me yesterday that I had been mean to him.

Am I mean?  That is so upsetting.

K's reply to this sentiment was that I wasn't mean -- I just know what I want, and whenever I make my mind up, it is really clear that my mind is made up.

I mean, of course I like K's explanation better.  I don't like to think I'm mean.  Maybe I'm mean and I don't always realize it.  Which might be worse than being intentionally mean, I don't know.  I'm too tired right now to decide which is worse. 

I actually bite my tongue a lot.  Like... a fucking lot. I guess I can either keep biting my tongue and be considered mean, or I can start calling people out on their shit all the time and, well, be considered mean.  (Hey P.S. this wouldn't actually be a concern if I had a dick).

On a somewhat related note -- Hey guys, when you make a sexist remark and then someone calls you out on it and your response is "It was a joke, take it easy!" then you look a lot like an asshole.  Mostly because it wasn't actually a joke. At least own your sexism instead of saying that you were just "making a joke."

And finally.  It's not that I'm planning on showing you up... but I'm totally going to show you up. *shrugs*