tirsdag 28. august 2018

"Damen i baren."

Translation: the woman in the bar, the female bartender, she tending the bar (you get the gist of it).

Such a small phrase, and yet, so meaningful, accepting and wonderful in creating what essentially caused happiness and joy. Random bits of observations from strangers and using correct pronoun – nothing more, nothing less. And still it means so much more than I’ll be able to convey into a display of gratitude and thank this stranger for.

Sometimes, all it takes is seeing something true and say so out loud. Thank you, random stranger, for making the world of this being better and putting a genuine smile on her face.

søndag 12. august 2018

Poor gullet

I’m sitting in a chair wearing black underwear
Uniform and the rest hang with the vest
No small feat to suck at such a teat
And the cat forever dry named after Fry
Possessing credibility such as responsibility
The woman of law faced down her garden maw
But stay awhile and harken to the larks softly darken
A song at last best played in the past

Leaves beyond the house starts getting douse
Mince the hen without the mouse den
Look past the fedora and spot what belongs to Pandora
Boxed and sliced as sure as heisted
We stumble inside to fetch in infinite stretch
Warning signs in red screaming of wandering undead
Undead, undead, we walk the night in fright
Undead, undead, the poem ends in vain

fredag 27. juli 2018

Full blood moon.

Or is a blood full moon? I don’t know; here are some tunes.

What is true is that the moon is a mysterious mistress, and that I shall be observing her rise come the evening in all her splendor atop of the castle mountain.

torsdag 5. juli 2018

Mirosh Glotsk

Allow me to tell you about a character of mine. Now, you might ask, what sort of character, what universe, what faction and several other questions that would help you come to grips just where this character “belong”, per say (as I am full aware that I have a LOT of different ones in oh so many settings). But hold your horses and make still your swift fingers on the keyboard – I will tell this tale and answer what I can to the best of my abilities.

This is a character I’ve made for the D&D fifth edition. It is not one I’ve played, and therefore I’m able to give a presentation of (my played D&D characters will remain a mystery if you’re not part of the group – sorry about that, folk). Mind you, this is simply backstory for now, and one I highly intend to actually play sometime in the future as I find both the character and the character concept intriguing.

Her name is Mirosh Glotsk and she’s a Half-Orc Monk. Granted, not your most typical combination, but wait – it gets stranger: she’s also born to nobility (background). Maybe it’s best I start diving into the story already…

Imagine a kingdom/queendom akin to the medieval setting with lots of nobles in their castles all over the countryside. Now, picture the neighboring nation being one of Orcs. In the D&D setting, Orcs aren’t made of the same cloth as those roaming in the works of Tolkien, but they’re rather nasty, none the less – and warmongering runs in their blood. So, naturally, at one time, an army of Orcs struck out and started doing what Orcs (no matter their universe or setting) tend to do best: causing serious unrest and concern for all the other direct and semi-direct parties involved. This, however, did not sit well with one of the nobles in this land, so he gathered his own army and headed out to meet the roaming ravages. There was battle, stalemate and death. Wanting not to spend (all) the lives of those in his own little slice of the kingdom/queendom, Vervem Glotsk rode out and cast a challenge for the Orc war leader: a duel, just the two of them. If the war leader won, he would have his army stand down and give the Orcs free passage to pillage and plunder and produce pain in the populace. But if he won, the Orc army was to retreat back where it came from. Surprisingly, or maybe not, the war leader, Milvi the Gruesome, came forth and accepted these terms.

The duel was legendary, but scarce of details. The noble Vervem Glotsk, being a Shadow Sorcerer of high might and arcane power, battled at a distance and kept taking the few hits that he could. The war leader Milvi the Gruesome, a Storm Herald Barbarian, fought with the fierceness of nature and the bloodlust of her kind, striking true and hard.

And then it was over. Who had won is hazy, and best glossed over for the sake of the story.

Still, here is where it gets interesting: after this duel, the two, Vervem and Milvi, decided to marry. Why remains to speculation this day.

Years passed, and their union produced two children: Mirosh and Ronuz Glotsk, Half-Orcs through and through. What I can mention is that the older son, Bibrar Glotsk, a Paladin, did not look kindly upon his new siblings. He then decided to take up the Oath of the Crown and travel the country, helping those in need. Milvi, restless in the court of Vervem, took Ronuz and told the rest of her family that she’d make a proper Orc out of him. Vervem agreed, but wanted Mirosh to stay and learn the art of ruling. Secretly, he hoped for either child to harbor magic akin to his, but alas, he was sorely disappointed: Ronuz took up the charge of command while in the Orc horde as Milvi the Gruesome’s second, proving himself to be a Fighter and a Champion, while Mirosh only showed some proficiency with the shortsword –but did not squabble Vervem’s lessons and the responsibility those with noble blood must adhere to.

However, there was many a mystic in the court of Vervem Glotsk: Warlocks, Sorcerers, Wizards and other practitioners of not always above the board dark arts. Here, a man of wisdom and discipline stayed for a while. Mirosh became infatuated with this close to holy man, and Vervem allowed his daughter to train in the ways of the Monk.

More years passed. Mirosh looked out from a window, inspecting the fields and lands surrounding Vervem’s castle. It was time to explore and travel, to better understand how the world worked.

Que session zero…

lørdag 30. juni 2018

Third Exalted March

I'm ready. I won't be wearing black (but for my underwear), breaking the tradition. I'll also go again on my own, alone this time, merely there for the march itself. But I'm not really alone, am I? Nobody marches alone.

I'm ready for this.

Happy Pride.

onsdag 13. juni 2018

In honor of Sense8.

This is a story about a fictitious cluster set in the Sense8 universe. Don't worry if you don't know all the terms or names, you'll get the gist soon enough. If not, go watch Sense8. It's worth it.

Laura Roth, a female German lawyer of 33 years that consider herself straight, was the first to awoke. She practices law in Berlin, speaks German and English, and enjoys camping in the wild.

The second was Orlando "Lan" Thompson, female, an open bisexual (she prefers men and wouldn't really consider a relationship with a woman beyond a fling), proud Australian and part-time bartender, in order to support her through college. She currently lives in London and studies English literature. English is her only language.

Thirdly, there's Agnes Ainslay; a 39 years old female. She's a homosexual Scottish fisher-woman, has a boat of her own and a nice little house in the Islay region. English and Gaelic are her two tongues.

Fourth, Biên Nguyễn, a 65 years old male. He's asexual, Vietnamese, and a former carpenter (now retired). Vietnamese has been his only language most of his life, but in recent years he's taken up learning some English due to all the tourists.

Fifth, Thure Hjálmarsson, a male hetrosexual stone mason from Iceland, age 31. In his spare time, he rides - he has his own horse - and hunts in the wild, but for skill, not sport. He speaks Icelandic and English, and can survive in the wild on his own during any season.

Sixth, Hans Konungson, a Danish male sailor, 28 years old. He considers himself bisexual, but with a preference for feminine people. Currently without a steady address, just a post box in Copenhagen for his mail. He's fluent in Danish and English, but can communicate with people from Sweden and Norway due to the similarities in the Scandinavian languages.

The seventh was John Spencer, a male heterosexual of Scottish origin, 37 years old. He's a transient / homeless person, an ex-soldier, and has a dog named Gellert (a Welsh border collie). English is his only language, and he's living in England.

And at last, the eight, was Grace Teresa Rodríguez, a female 32 year old pan-sexual from Cuba, working as a professional dancer. She lives in Miami, speaks Spanish and English, and owns several exotic fish.

The year was 2020, and they had all just been awakened - being sensate. Eight of them. Together. How or why they did not know.

The first one, Laura, met Thure in a dream, and they conversed at length. Orlando, during a drunken threesome, kept seeing different faces on her partners. Hans, during a voyage on the sea, started hearing singing in the wind. John was experiencing heat flashes, despite the foul and cold wet weather. Biên had trouble sleeping due to the barking of an unknown dog. Agnes found herself watching waves that came from further out on the sea than her own boat could safely traverse. Grace was unable to shake a sense of lust and kept messing up during practices, as if under the effect of alcohol. And they all shared a splitting headache that lasted for days.

However, once the headaches stopped, a man, an American in his late fifties, came to Grace. He called himself Mr. Gladstone, and offered to train her in the ways of the sensate, revealing to be one himself. Grace accepted, and after a few days, she was able to reach out to the seven others of her cluster. Some accepted and adjusted better than others.

Lan took it with youthful enthusiasm and a heartfelt “Cool!” – the joy of the visit lingered with Grace for the rest of the day. Agnes took a more somber approach, but didn’t dismiss the possibility. Biên remained stoic and silent about it all – at first Grace though it may have been to the language barrier, but as Biên remarked when she said as much; when one was as old and had seen as much as he had, once one accepted that the world changed now at a rush, the best way to deal with it was to accept the changes. Grace, not used to anything but a high paced living, was humbled by this wisdom.

Hans took some talking to – even though Grace did enjoy the way he kept looking at her. Thure was stunned at first, and then he started asking about Laura. Taken slightly aback, Grace confirmed that yes, Laura was real, and that maybe it would be better for the three of them to have a bit more lengthy conversation after she visited her and explained. Thure agreed.

As Grace visited Laura, she was puzzled: having first doubts about this being real, Laura asked about Thure. Leaving the two of them to talk alone, Grace was pleased with how this had turned out to be.

The one she struggled most with, however, was John, as he believed that this was some sort of trauma manifested from his time as a soldier. Unfortunately, she could not totally convince him: so instead she asked if she revealed something to him that he could not possible know, would he at least consider it? John said he didn’t want to make any promises, but was willing to give it a try. Grace asked Agnes if John and Gellert could make the physical journey over to her and see for himself that yes, the rest of the cluster was real. Agnes pondered for a little while before she agreed to this – provided that John was not a threat. Grace assured Agnes that Mr. Gladstone had taught her well, and that she had security measures.

Once they all knew one another, certain groups within the cluster started to form:
- There was Laura and Thure, hiding a spark of romance underneath their shared fondness for nature.
- Biên sought out Thule to talk shop, interested in stonework.
- Hans and Lan had drunken nights of fun together, although they didn’t share the same location.
- Agnes and Hans traded stories about the sea, with John pitching in about a few tales of his battles in the past – and appropriate cuddles of Gellert.
- Gellert became a gathering point for Lan, Thure and John, as they were all animal people.

Speaking for herself, Grace did get better along with some than others:
- Agnes and she bonded over cooking, while Biên added a few inputs now and then.
- Laura showed her the old metropolis that was Berlin.
- Watching the new fashion in the strange world that was Iceland with Thure – and sometimes, Laura, too.

A representative from the BPO - Biologic Preservation Organization – arrives one morning at Agnes’ cottage. She introduces herself as Dr. Iris Douglas, and mentions that a Mr. Gladstone had sent her. Already knowing this name from Grace, Agnes and John are asked to come to London for some tests, and bring with them as many members of their cluster – or have them seeking out BPO facilities in larger city locations at their own choosing.

Agnes remains polite, but mistrustful, John struggles briefly with paranoia and Lan believes this is some government bullshit. Hans is willing to go with Agnes and John, having recently arrived in Scotland with his ship and have a few days off. Lan refuses, profoundly, but offers up her flat for the others to stay while they’re in London.

Grace visits Mr. Gladstone and asks him about the BPO. He tells her about them: how they used to be, what they turned into, and how it returned to the present state. He assures Grace that they mean no sensate harm, and brings Grace along to speak with Nomi Marks. Nomi, a happily married computer-wise woman, offers insights about being a newly reborn sensate, and advices Grace concerning sapient and sensate dating. Grace, now fully and firmly believing that the BPO are legit and safe, conveys this information to the rest of the cluster. Lan remains skeptical.

During the visit to London, Lan takes the day off and spends it in Hyde Park, along with Gellert and her sometimes-boyfriend Doug. The cuddling of Gellert helps John during his, Agnes’ and Hans’ meeting with the BPO, keeping him from outright panic. Trying to aid in her own way, Laura takes an extended lunch break to play the violin, as that always helps provide clarity to her. Wishing to add further help, Thure takes a mountain hike and marvels at the glory and magnificence of the Icelandic nature. John senses that the rest of the cluster cares for him, and gets emotionally overwhelmed during a voluntary test at BPO and has to stop it.

Returning to Lan, Gellert and Doug, Agnes gives a recap for Biên and Grace as they’ve been asleep during the BPO interactions. Biên suggests caution, while Grace gets worried about the voluntary tests, and asks Mr. Gladstone about them. Mr. Gladstone seems confused at first, having not heard of such tests. He promises to look into this, as well as keeping Grace posted. As this is told to the cluster, Lan has a smug “told you so” moment, before they move on to consider what this could mean for them. They decide that no other of the cluster would approach the BPO.

The following night John suffers nightmares from his time in battle and accidentally wakes up Agnes, Hans, Lan, Gellert and Doug. With their combined efforts, John calms down as Hans begin speaking Gaelic to him, causing Doug to be deeply confused. Lan tries to brush it off as Hans being part Scottish on his mother’s side, but Doug remains unconvinced, finding it very odd.

Biên gets a surprise visit from his former carpenter apprentice, Bùi Tấn Tý, now a successful and rich man. They share drinks on the beach, reminiscing about the good old days, and generally have a good time. Tý reveals that he’s about to marry and asks Biên to be his best man. Biên considers it for a moment, arguing that Tý must have others closer than himself. Tý then reminds Biên about a recent disaster: a cruise ship accident, very publicly covered in the media. While not all the names have been released to the general public due to an ongoing criminal investigation, Tý tells Biên that his entire family was lost during said tragedy. Biên is moved and promises to be Tý’s best man.

In Miami Grace accidentally becomes involved in a gang shootout where she is forced to draw on John’s skills as a soldier in order to survive. This makes her a person of interest, both to the gang and the local police. Being born on Cuba and having lawfully migrated to the US, she’s harassed due to her racial profile. Used to this sort of treatment, Grace cooperates as best she can, but explains how she was able to incapacitate said gang member due to her training as a dancer. The police officer doesn’t quite believe her and makes some not so veiled threats. Several of her cluster expresses outraged by this treatment of her. Grace starts fearing for her life, should the gang retaliate.

Back on Iceland Thure begins a large project with several other workers, and learns by chance that his contractor is a big fan of Riley Blue, a fellow Icelandic sensate, and that this stone monument is actually in her honor. Laura visits him and expresses a delight for the fact that sapient and sensate can see eye to eye. The two of them share a kiss.

Agnes, John, Hans and Gellert leave London: Hans goes back to work while the others return to Agnes’ place. She and John take a tour in her boat, sharing a profound moment of connection, despite their differences. They also learn that they share the attraction to the same type of girl.

On the way back to the ship, Hans gets assaulted and kidnapped. Drugged, he’s unable to give a clear description of anything. Laura drops everything and calls her brother, an elected official in the German government currently in London for post-Brexit talks, and calls in her favor in order to find Hans. Lan freaks out about the abduction and breaks up with Doug in an attempt to keep him safe, should someone come for her. She then proceeds to go underground, leaving for Liverpool.

Biên uses a meditation technique to calm Hans and pieces together who’s taken him: a doctor present during the voluntary tests at BPO. This information causes the cluster distress and worry.

Mr. Gladstone visits Grace and informs her that there’s a rouge faction inside the BPO lead by a sensate that refuses the present leadership, wanting to bring it back to the vision of Milton Bailey Brandt. Mr. Gladstone is shocked when Grace tells him about Hans’ kidnapping and tells her and her cluster to “make a run for it”. Refusing this advice, John persuades Agnes to come along and free Hans by themselves.

Grace visits Nomi and expresses her fear. Nomi tells her not to worry and sets her own cluster in motion, but tells Grace to take precautions and stay safe.

Biên continues to visit and stay with Hans, being a source of comfort during the drugged abuse. Through Biên’s aid, Hans is able to decipher where he’s being taken: Dublin.

By the help of Nomi's tech skills, Grace rent a boat for Agnes, John and Gellert, keeping them just off the coast of Ireland: this is where they suspect Hans currently is.

Laura’s brother, the elected official, calls back with bad news: they’re unable to identify the abductors, but informs her that the police are on the case, and that he’s involving Interpol. Laura seeks comfort with Thure, revealing that this is how her twin sister vanished without a trace when she was five, making her relive those memories. Thure comforts Laura.

Lan surprises the rest of her cluster by showing up at the next dock as Agnes, John and Gellert arrives, informing them that she’s always wanted to see Ireland and that she “knows a gal” that might help them.

Grace tells Nomi about the suspected location where Hans is being held, and Nomi mentions a black site previously used by the BPO located in the area. However, before they can continue the conversation, Grace is shot in the back and falls down a set of stairs. The entire cluster feels it, with John's and Hans' reactions being the worst to it as John suffers a violent flashback that triggers him to attach Agnes, believing her an enemy, while Hans sinks deeper into an unconscious state, almost dragging Biên with him. Agnes is able to knock John out, much to the duress of Gellert. Biên rises from his meditation and heads to the local training center of Võ thuật Cổ Truyền Việt Nam, the traditional Vietnamese martial arts form. There it turns out that he’s a Võ Sư – a master of the martial art. Biên talks to the present highest ranking member, asking for a sparring session, determined to reach Hans through the simplicity of the combat mindset, as well as helping Grace fight through her pain.

Grace awakens a captive of the gang. Keeping her alive, they torture and rape her. This causes Lan to freak out completely, leaving Agnes to deal with both her, an unconscious John and a barking Gellert. Grace succumbs to darkness, only to have Biên take temporarily control and guide her through her hate and suffering. Laura, having extended experience with BDSM, helps Grace loosening her bonds, and with Biên’s martial arts training, she’s able to escape, despite her wounds.

John awakes, feeling ashamed for the bruises he’s caused Agnes, and helps her calm Lan down with the help of Gellert. Agnes expresses concern about his past and how it affects his current mental state. John agrees and apologies. Lan breaks out the supply of alcohol and gets drunk. Agnes and John discuss their next move.

Thure packs for an extended stay in the mountains, bringing along a hunter’s gun and his horse. He informs his contractor that he’ll be gone for at least a week. When the contractor asks why, he tells him that it’s related to Riley Blue, but that “it’s complicated”.

Grace stumbles into a Catholic medical clinic, begging for her life. The personnel take her in and hide her from the pursuing gang. Mr. Gladstone visits and tells her that BPO – the real BPO – is taking every step to get Hans back, and that help is coming. Grace asks him to have someone feed her fishes back in her apartment before she passes out.

Lan receives a visit from Thure that warns her of the dangers of alcohol. Lan brushes him off, telling him that she’s a part time bartender, student, and Australian – she knows how to handle booze. Mildly amused and somewhat hiding the fact that this irritates him, Thure tells her about his alcoholic father and how that ruined his family’s life as a young boy. Lan, still unconvinced, breaks out into tears and laments about the cruelty of the world, giving those unable to grieve a brief relief: Grace and Hans. Thure goes back to Iceland where he and Laura have a heart to heart, becoming even closer, and admitting that they do have feelings for one another, but decide not to act on this until Hans is rescued.

lørdag 14. april 2018

Standing with slippery underpants.

It’s no fun, I can tell you that much. You KNOW your knickers aren’t falling off due to you wearing stockings over, but the sensation never the less makes one mentally grasp for one’s underwear and pull it up once more.

I guess one could argue that I don’t have phat fat a$$ or big booty. Which is perfectly fine, to be honest, as I’m rather satisfied with my small tushy already. No, I’m not going to shake it for you.

Speaking of behinds and other quarters, did you know that a friend of mine and I are doing space adventures together? In not your so average game of strategy and empire management I can safely say that I’m very glad I’ve got a whole bunch of unconditionally allied beings that can come to my emotional rescue should one of my neighbors choose to invade me (of which statistics hold a high probability, possible). Link? Sure, why not? Fair warning, it’s only at the beginning stages being out for public viewing so far, though more to come.

Why such a strange post this day? Because comic relief from a world mess is exactly what’s needed sometimes, and this certainly qualifies.

torsdag 5. april 2018

VtM:B - a story. A plane ride.

We hitch a ride on a plane from Smila Grimsson, the Prince of Iceland. I'm certain that beyond a doubt that this is to our shared bloodline, and that any other operative stuck in Russia would not experience the same curtsy.

Rhys is displeased with me, despite the mission being a success. At one time, he even arrived at my seat, sitting next to me, looking rather neutral as he casually ordered everybody out of my section of the plane. I should not fault him for doing his job. In the most English of manner he then leans forward and lower his voice, making his words for me alone.

"If you ever endanger the mission once more, I will kill you."

I neglect any form of response, as m
y thoughts are circulating our fugitive, 

Lev Parlov, our contact over the last months sits in the back, cuffed and gagged. I can smell the dark and beautiful man from my seat, and his curse of Diablerie: his black aura seems to be affecting even those close to him, be they Kine or Kindred. A master stroke, playing the underhand supplicant until he was secure in my team and my convictions - having lowered his generation by two, Prince Nikolai would offer no small a reward for his ashes. Alas, he was my mission and objective.

What I am curious about is how he was able to hide the fact until he was ready to defect.

The voice of Rhys brings be back to the present.

"You're not listening, Ravna."

I turn to him, my eyes glaring.

"You know what? I wasn't. Want to know why? Because I'm busy trying to determine the future of this region, an how I'm going to pay back Prince Nikolai for his services. Now, unless you plan to end me right here, right now, get back to your station and keep an eye on Lev for me. Can you do that, BODYGUARD?"

I mock him with intent, trying to rise his fury. Having stayed in the game this long, I know that he would adhere to his duty, even if that made it far worse for me in the long run. And I am his assigned commander for this mission until we touch ground in Denmark.


Rhys looks at me. I meet his gaze, unafraid.

"You're lucky the Prince finds you useful."

And with that, he leaves me be, sitting with my thoughts and plans.

tirsdag 6. mars 2018

Adapting to change without a revolution.

On March 6th, 1918, the Finnish Army Corps of Aviation was established as a forerunner to the Finnish Air Force, with the first plane donated by the Swedish explorer and aviator Eric von Rosen.

A hundred years later, R./Nomi signed off, with some reluctance, the first experienced and personal polyamorous experienced befit of the writer of this blog. Yet it is not a time of mourning for the readers.

Details won't be shared. French chocolate won't be handed out.

Today is a day of sorrow, regret, and acceptance, tempered with respect and serenity. No matter what else it would bring before you, remain respectfully, please. Thank you, in advance, for your courtesy.

You may not know of what I speak. You may know of what I speak.

But remember - sometimes silence and comfort prevails.

My regrets are mine, and as such my mistakes. Blame nobody else for failures that does not belong to you, nor heartaches you should not take upon yourself lightly.

Ya lublu tebya, minikin.
Jeg elsker deg, V.
I love you, my little Tori.

Until we meet again.

fredag 2. mars 2018

Cannons, cinnamon and Cicero.

What dishonor can Sweden, France and Germany share?

They were all stopped by a Pyrrhic victory, courtesy of General Frost.

If you don't know either of these terms, I'm ashamed of you and your knowledge of history.

Betterment is, after all, a process, not an achievement.

Mars is laughing at us, isn't it? And where's Venus? Hiding, I pressume - not that there's anything wrong at hiding from hideous laughter, if you're able to.

And thus, the moon take her rightful place in the sky as cannons sounds, accompanied by fluit and drum, dark tunes of victories long past, reminding of us the future and the perils of absolute power.

A solemn tombone, a haunted tuba and a rather inisting trumpet - three instruments beginning with the letter Tango (but not the dancing form, mind you) - would all but cime in another musical piece of shine and proclaim the future.

Alas, such a fate is bleak: there are no cinnamon left.

Now practice the NATO phonetic alphabet, as of 1956 and present, please - you might need it sooner rather than later.

...wait, Civero? Oh, for... just google Skyrim, would you?!

onsdag 21. februar 2018

Pride, so small a thing!

No, not that kind of Pride – just good old fashioned pride. Though, it’s easy to mistake the two (unless you’re in the know). I know. Sometimes even the simplest of phrases are confusing. Apologies for adding to that by the title.

What I am is proud. Proud of something rather silly, actually.

A Olympic participant – the person in question shares my first name and holds the last name of a Kaizer’s Orchestra song – took silver. Twice. So far. Such a curious and small thing to feel the beating of the heart of –considering that it’s on no way reflect anything on my behalf (expect putting the two halves of the given name and surname into the combination that makes me smile).

Instead of going on about how the Olympics 2018 are lining up in terms of medals and such (Damnit, I’ve just done that, haven’t I?), I’ll say that joy for the various things can come in randomness. So please, do be happy for everything that you might be able to be happy about.

Don’t worry. Be happy.

And because of a friend of mine on FB shared something I could not stop myself from doing too, I’m apparently Bellatrix Lestrange, Princess Leia, Jadzia Dax (!), Snow White, the Scarlet Witch, Melisandre, Galadriel and Michonne. Oh. My. Gods.

I really, really, REALLY shouldn’t be as happy about this as I should as it’s surely all random and by no means a measure of me personally. That doesn’t exclude me being over the top; want to slit my own throat fantastically over the hill happy about this!
(Full quote at the bottom of the page – bonus points if you get the sitcom it’s from.)

So, if you find yourself being Santa Claus on Prozac in Disney Land getting laid, don’t overthink it – just be happy, all right?

Okay, uh, what do you say I go over there and tell her how much I like her? No, no, it'll be good. I can tell her how much I've been thinking about her. That I haven't stopped thinking about her since the moment we met. That I'm so fantastically over-the-top want-to-slit-my-own-throat in love with her, that for every minute of every hour of every day I can't believe my own damn bad luck that you met her first!

An unpleasant dream.

So, I had an unpleasant dream.

A person of my past, one whom I had largely forgotten (due to the insignificance of said person in my life), that ended up causing a situation out of nothing.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

In my dream, I was coming from one place and found myself in the capital, early in the morning. In my mind, I had arrived from some sort of night shift, or a travel by night. I was passing a familiar location, near a cafe, I believe, when I spotted a front desk clerk wearing the uniform belonging to the hotel chain I myself is employed by. I think it may have been the latter (a journey by the night - night train, perhaps), as I was able to pass the person taking over the morning shift.

Wanting to sleep, I entered the hotel, and spoke with the night shift watch - a pleasant female who understood my need for sleep. However, she did mention that there might be an issue with she whom was taking over the shift - she referred to my particular condition.

As if on cue, said person arrived. Something rather conservative she said made me place her from a small mountain village (it was too small to have town status), and I hinted at knowing her from before by using her name. I may have been somewhat smug about this - do keep in mind that in my dream I needed sleep.

She followed me into the room (which was located right next to the front desk) and continued asking from where she knew me. Not wanting to reveal it, I instead mentioned how good it must have been to depart from her home location. She disliked this and left.

I had just fixed the curtains when I heard her call someone from the outside (her boyfriend, I presume). Shortly after, as I was sitting down on the toilet, a man came bursting into my room, demanding that I departed the hotel at once. In a calm and non-threatening manner, I asked him to close the door so I could finish my bathroom business in private. Reluctant, he disagreed at first, but closed the door after a while, mentioning that when I left I should be wearing something else.

Around this time I woke up in a sweaty bed.

Now, based on the elements of this dream, I was logically going to ask on what authority he - a civilian dressed individual - could have in order to cast me out, and if he even was working at the hotel. If he was, and I found that unlikely, I would call my own supervisor and inform her of the happening, as well as ask for an explanation at the front desk, possible even asking for someone higher up in charge (front desk manager, or possible even the director) than she who seemed so eager to get rid of me.

What strikes me is that this is, to date, my most direct and dire example of transphobia. And for that I am grateful.