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androgynealienfemme · 11 months

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After a friend/coworker and I unboxed a new shipment of porn and toys, we headed outside to smoke and chat. Over the last couple of weeks, she had been telling me about a two-spirit community she did ceremonies with and formally invited me to my first sweat. As we two punks-- showing our tattoos and piercings -- sat on the sidewalk discussing spirituality, my friend suddenly brought up my unwillingness to claim the term "butch". I asked her why she wanted to be identified with folks who wore misogyny on their sleeves, with an identity that was quantified into comparative statements of worth as in, "You aren't as butch as so-and-so."

She sighed, told me to read Stone Butch Blues, and then got up and left me sitting alone on the sidewalk. I had identified with very few books up to this point in my life. Stone Butch Blues was the second such book. While it is not the sum total of who I am, butch is a place inside me, it's part of the whole. The battle of quantification still haunts me in various forms, as I try to define what part is white (the deep red-brown my skin gets in the sun), what part is butch (my large hips), what part is Indian (my blue eyes), and what part is two-spirit (my birth name). I feel like I am just beginning to understand the place inside me that slides back and forth from men to woman, as two-spirit implies. As a child, I wandered Totem Park making up stories to go with the totem poles. I had no foundation; my family was too tired from surviving colonialism to tell me the stories I needed to hear. Since then, I have been seeking the stories out one by one, listening to them and creating my own history (Tlinget, Aleut, Russian) and definitions (two-spirit, trans, butch) upon which I stand"

-"Split Myself Apart" by Redwolf Painter, On Butch and Femme: Compiled Readings (I.M. Epstein) (2017)

#on butch and femme #on butch and femme: compiled readings #redwolf painter #lesbian #butch #transgender #two-spirit #trans butch #butch lesbian #lesbian lit #lesbianism #lgbt writing #lgbt+#lgbtq+

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they-are-freakin-legos · 2 years

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The ninja as types of YouTube channels they would run (I hate myself)

Lloyd: he makes conspiracy videos and shit. He talks about how all princesses are liars and the truth behind fights people misinterpret. He would also rank stuff on tier lists. And he probably plays minecraft.

Nya: she would probably make vlogs about her latest inventions with Pixal or something. I think that could be cute <3 like just showing off all the crazy gadgets they build. or she'd make cute videos with Jay or something.

Pixal: would also have a vlog channel, but instead of interesting stuff, like new gadgets and stuff, she shares the various little wonders of the world. Like, imagine her recording a ladybug that landed on her hand for 5 minutes. But that's all it is. She doesn't even talk, it's just the bug. Or she records a video of her playing with a spinny office chair, adjusting the settings and messing around with it. Everyday delights. But that's all they are.

Jay: he's a meme account I'm sorry. What else would be be? Maybe one of those cringey kids YouTubers that does all of those challenges for money, but they never run out of money. Or a toy unboxing channel. Omg imagine Jay with a toy unboxing channel. Noooo he would be that channel that buys packs of expensive Pokémon cards, cuts them in half, then opens them up to see if they cut in half the rainbow charizard or something (idk pokemon)

Kai: he's the douche that makes prank videos. They were harmless at first, like "oooh I changed all the photos in the monestary to my face", and now it's like "ooooh I pretended to kidnap Lloyd and sell him to Harumi for a cheese stick, absolutely real, must see" and now everyone's just annoyed and a little traumatized.

Zane: you know that one Indian guy on YouTube you turn to when your math teacher doesn't know how to teach you the curriculum? Zane is that teacher. He has educational videos online, and he's great. He answers all the questions ever.

Cole: Homeboy makes dancing videos. Plays a song and dances to it. Instructional dance videos, teaching others how to dance. Sometimes he posts little harmless jokes he plays on the others. But they're actually harmless and not traumatizing. And he makes videos with his dad, teaching young people how to do things a father would typically teach his child. Like shaving, or tying a tie, or how to throw a ball. Can you tell I have a favorite?

#cole ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago #jay ninjago #kai ninjago #lloyd ninjago #ninjago pixal #nya ninjago #zane ninjago

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kidstoysuniverse · 1 year

Video

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Amazing Toy Train Set Unboxing & Testing | Indian Rajdhani Train Set Toy...

#youtube #toytrain #kidstoys besttoys toysforkids besttoyforkids kidsfun kids toysopening toysreview kidschoice kidstoysuniverse besttoys kidsgrowth kidstoysrev

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shashsri · 6 years

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Boxed up emotions

January 4

Our household goods have finally arrived. Abhishek reaches the customs clearing centre at Canberra Airport at 11 am as asked, to fulfil the quarantine clearance formalities. The guy in charge looks at the list accompanying our boxes, and selects the ones containing food items, footwear and sports equipment for checking. In Abhishek’s presence, the boxes are opened one by one and the contents examined for three things: insects, plant matter and mud or dirt.

The food items are basically gluten free flour, sorghum semolina replacers, gluten free cookies and Pediasure for Saakhi. Once assured that there are no seeds or grains in the box, it is resealed with the customs department’s red tape (literally). The soles of the footwear are examined for traces of mud, grass etc. But since I had scrubbed all the footwear clean before packing in Delhi, they are squeaky clean and pass the test. Finally, the sports equipment. That comprises our badminton racquets, shuttle boxes and Akshobhya’s balls, so no dirt there. All the opened boxes are resealed and the others too cleared. A van hired by the High Commission brings the stuff home to Taplin Place.

The boxes are unloaded single-handedly by the van driver, and I get him to place the boxes in the various rooms according to their contents. Thus books and toys go in the study; clothes, blankets, quilts in one of the upstairs rooms; and boxes of kitchenware and other miscellaneous items in the garage.

The unpacking will continue over the next few weeks, as there are 47 boxes to empty. We start with the study. Since most of our books are back in Delhi and we have brought only selected tomes, it is a sadly depleted collection.

Yet, each book placed on the shelf brings back memories of the occasion it was bought or received as a gift. The children’s books remind me of other fun times. The “Pepper” series reminds me how we got them for Saakhi so that she would quit fussing over food (Pepper eats green vegetables) or to make it easier for her to accept Akshobhya’s arrival in the family (Pepper and the new baby). Now the series is placed in Akshobhya’s shelf.

Saakhi’s shelf takes me back to numerous book fairs in Agartala, Guwahati and Delhi, and her growth as a person – from fairy tales to Jataka, Panchatantra, and Akbar-Birbal to Enid Blyton, and Amar Chitra Katha to young readers’ books by Gulzar and Sudha Murthy.

My shelf is a cornucopia of life events, from media writings to books on philately and coins; and where Devdutt Pattnaik shares space with Alexander McCall Smith and Hema Malini, Tilly Bagshawe with Paulo Coelho, Indian history with Dozakhnama and R.K. Laxman’s Common Man with the Phantom, Batman and Superman.

Abhishek’s shelf is more eclectic, spanning the entire gamut of Bertrand Russell, Chomsky, Ghalib, Makhdoom, Muktibodh and anthologies of Philosophy and Hindi Literature. The Russell book was given to me by Abhishek after our engagement. But I found it so boring that I never finished it! My confession 11 years later elicits great laughter from him. My mother’s three books also get pride of place. “Ma will be happy to see her books next to Muktibodh’s (one of her favorites) works,” I quip to Abhishek. He answers typically with no words only a smile.

The toys are unpacked next. Saakhi’s teddies take me back to her baby years; while the Barbie dolls and board games remind me that she’s nearly 10 now, that time has flown! An anguished screech interrupts my reverie. Saakhi had found that one of her Barbies has emerged headless from the toy box. That was her first Barbie and hence it’s very special to her. The head is soon found, but proves difficult to fix as part of the neck too broke. Abhishek manages to fix it somewhat, but she cannot be played with anymore or the head will come off! 😕 So she sits on the shelf with Saakhi’s books.

Akshobhya’s collection of cars too have their own stories. A tiny set of six vehicles bought on holiday in Manali; a gleaming new remote controlled Porsche gifted by his aunt that sends him scurrying with fear when switched on! A stackable train that he used to crawl after in Agartala; a smiley football that he kicked around the Agartala garden; a shape sorter and alphabet and number flash cards that first belonged to Saakhi as a toddler; each object brings back a slice of the past.

Amid all the remembrances the study is done, and we have now unboxed 6 cartons of objects and emotions.

Because of both Papa and Abhishek being in a transferrable job, packing unpacking, arranging, living and then packing up again has been a regular feature of my life. But never have the memories assailed me the way they did this time. Perhaps its the long distance from my loved ones, or the ever slipping sands of time affecting me. But, for a short time, it did give me yesterday once more.

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devildeals1 · 2 years

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#DevilDeals #devil deals #dancing duck toy #dancing duck #toys unboxing india #toys review #space duck toy #light and music toys #made in india toys #indian toys unboxing #toys unboxing hindi #kids toys review #chatpat toy tv #crazy xyz #quick unboxing #unboxing shorts #indian shorts #unboxing video

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how-to-best · 4 years

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Why and how stand-alone restaurants have to deliver individual home experiences- The New Indian Express

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Express News Service

The highest-earning YouTuber in 2019, those halcyon days before COVID-19, was a toddler who unboxed toys.Indeed, unboxing videos, be they of toys or gadgets or (presumably) fully articulated humanoids, has become a favourite passtime for people on video-sharing platforms everywhere.And now, with a raging pandemic and a general public resistance to stepping out of…

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gamesdotplay · 4 years

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#28 #naxeex #androidgameplay #gangster

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neilthurman0 · 4 years

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQaBIq2RSmc from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQaBIq2RSmc

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krayena · 6 years

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6/?

There’s one very specific moment that is a constant source of anxiety for me, which I remembered again just now--and I don’t even think it’s necessarily just that one thing, but rather the fact that it represents everything I am afraid of at once.

A couple of years ago, I want to say maybe three at most--more? Actually, I think it was in high school. Definitely high school. Summer after 11th grade. We were at Universal Studios (in Orlando) with my aunt and cousin. (We meaning my mom, brother, and myself.)

It was towards the end of the night, we were passing a gift shop. My brother had already gotten something, I can’t remember what--it was mildly expensive? My mom only had so much money on her, i.e. what my dad had given her to spend for (that day? week? month? unclear.)

(Aside: the way money circulates in my family is because of my mom’s, er, situation, and the fact that she’s stay at home/does volunteer work (well, now she has a kind of job, but it’s part time and doesn’t pay very well. But I digress.) means my dad is the only source of income. When she goes out, he gives her money. Or he gives her what is more or less an “allowance” that isn’t a set number or anything, for some period of time. She generally manages to spend it all, and my dad has always called her out on it.

I also complain about how much random money she spend. But here’s the thing: okay, actually, this point is relevant to what I am eventually rounding about to, so I’ll just discuss it later. This is all the necessary context for now.)

So since it’s the last day of our trip and the last gift shop, I’m browsing. Normally--and I guess I’m biased--I’m pretty good about being financially reasonable. And to that point, I think, I had been. (I’m referring to my life experiences in general, not specific to just the park.)

I saw this chibi spider man plush. Mini sized. Just like the one from the Spiderman Loves Mary Jane comic run. And it is cute. It is sitting in my ‘bookshelf’ as I type this. I looked a the price tag. Circled the store several times. Almost walked away. And then asked my mom about it. (I wasn’t carrying any money on me.)

She made a face and she disapprovingly tried to discourage me out of it. And the thing is, there was no real reason--aside from the fact that I’d seen it in the comic and had wanted my own for a while--to get it. I insisted. She conceded. (The exchange wasn’t loud or anything, just tense? Stressful?)

She put down what I think was her last twenty on the cashier’s table. We got $2 back.

And that moment--that moment still haunts me to this day. It’s been over four years now. But she had the most pained look. Which I recognized back then but did not process.

It’s the same look of conflicted-ness she has about most things. Her methods certainly require work, but even in spite of what I would classify as selfishness, she has wanted the ‘best’ for the rest of us. I’m not going to get into impact vs intent, because that’s a different conversation entirely.

She masks her pain with confusion. She resorts confusion as an acceptable social standard for a middle aged immigrant woman, who grew up in poverty and without the privilege of the education most of her peers have.

Sure, there are a lot of things that I think she needs to work on--fuck, I’m crying, because I’m sad this time, but also angry--but the pain exists nonetheless. I’m still trying to figure out what I think my parents “owed” me as a kid, and reconciling that with the fact that they, too, are just people.

And the thing with my mom--we never really had much of a proper relationship, the way I see it. I guess other people might call it “toxic” or “weak” or even just “distant,” but for me, I just...I can’t really explain it.

Of course I’m angry with her for so many different things, both in the past and now, but I’m still afraid for her. I still know that she has been hurting and is hurting.

And the money? My dad and her have not once had a productive conversation about her spending habits. She insists on being able to spend like we rake in cash because of her own past and growing up with more or less nothing, because why should her children have to ‘squat?’ Rather than dealing with this, my dad is just passive aggressive about it (to be honest, they both are), and while this is another thing that makes me physically angry, it makes me even sadder.

They have been partners for 25 years (and a month now, actually).

My mom has tried. She really has. My dad isn’t even close to the Typical Indian Dad when it comes to conservatism, but he couldn’t read an emotion if it was in bold face print across someone’s forehead.

I didn’t notice it until the later years, but my mom was constantly looking for things for my dad for holidays, anniversaries, ceremonies. My dad? Not so much. Occasionally I’d pester him about it, but he wouldn’t do much. He didn’t even get her flowers for their 25th until she “joked” about it. She’s tired.

She’s sad. She’s hurt. It was an arranged marriage, of course, and she really tried to stick out a limb to the extent that she could.

I’m also kind of shitty to her about these things. (Oh, and her struggles with English. Let’s not even get into how horrible our entire family was about that for so long, and TBH still kind of are.)

I’ve gotten better since I noticed my behavior, but progress is slow.

Anyway, so that spider man toy--for her to be semi angry at first and then give in--that was her way of fighting both sides. And it breaks my heart that this must be what happens, constantly.

Never mind my feelings about my family’s ‘financial security,’ which I’m never really sure about. That’s also something to unbox later. (Yikes)

My boyfriend said something the other day about the fact that they don’t (they = my parents) ‘deserve it.’ It meaning my affection, caring, success, etc, etc, etc. Because I do struggle with this, and a lot of shit.

But the thing is...it’s never been about deserve. All this time I’ve been trying to justify that, when it has never been about that. That’s not how I function. As hurt as I am, as angry as I am, as furious I am, as determined as I am to be independent, I can’t just drop it all. It’s not even something I would qualify as love. Part of it is my hyper empathy.

And I can’t believe I’m quoting the wonder woman movie, but it’s like she says--

“It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe.”

Obviously that courtesy does not extend to, say, nazis, but I can’t separate my trauma from the fact that my parents are obviously very much in their own cycles of pain.

I want them to get better as much as i want myself to. I want them to not hurt anymore, and partly because that would mean I wouldn’t hurt anymore.

I’m tired. My head aches. My back aches. I’m still behind on my school work. I finished crying, though, so there’s that.

There’s just too much. It’s all too much.

#s: family #s: depression #s: long post #s: feelings #s: hyper empathy

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