Category Archives: personal

has to do with my life, family, and/or friends

Hiatus Ends!

You know it’s a great hiatus when life is so busy that you don’t have time to write anything on your site about your life, right? Right?

All right, I’ve got a lot to share, including the publication of three anthologies, my progress at work, and the upcoming YaoiCon (of which I am assistant director this year). I’m excited to let you know of my recent goings on and my future plans!

I will see you all again soon. ^_^

Happy 2015!

Happy New Year! It’s a new year again. It’s that time of the year that we arbitrarily turn our calendars back to zero and move forward in the cold as if all of last year is completely behind us. I suppose, literally, it is… but so is every day.

This is not one of those posts where I say that we should have the Christmas spirit all year round or something shitty like that. I’m just pointing out that the date we decide to end things and then, in turn, begin things is basically random and completely subjective.

Anyway, I’ve had a lot going on in my life recently, as you may have imagined by my lack of any updates whatsoever since last July. At this point, that’s almost six months. Maybe soon I’ll be able to get back to writing thoughts, reviews, or anything, and I have such a backlog of ideas that it’ll take a while for me to even get them all organized.

Even though it’s arbitrary, I hope your New Year is better than the last. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Open letter to the guys who crossed the street when you saw me

Dear guys who crossed the street when you saw me walking my two yippy dogs at 11 PM,

Thank you. No, honestly: thank you.

I don’t know why you decided to cross the empty street when you saw me standing there waiting for my two dogs to do their business. Maybe you didn’t want to deal with them. Maybe you decided there wasn’t enough space on the sidewalk for all three of us humans and two large-cat-sized dogs. You were towing a large bag on a bicycle, after all. Maybe you didn’t want to have to say hello or acknowledge me in any way.

I don’t know why you crossed the street, but thank you. It made me feel safer when you did.

You see, I have to be aware of every man who walks past me in public, especially at night, because unfortunately I cannot tell if you’re a good person just by looking at you. I have to be careful.

You both saw me almost a block away and decided—for whatever reason—to give me space. You nonchalantly crossed the street and continued on your way as if nothing had ever happened. As someone who has to worry about her interactions with men so that she doesn’t “give the wrong idea” or “send mixed signals” and as someone who often has to deal with and “accept” harassment based on my perceived gender, I appreciate men who go out of their way to make me feel safe, especially in public spaces.

You probably thought nothing of your actions. You never even got close enough to see me very well, though my shape and figure make it obvious to most people that I’m a woman, no matter what I’m wearing. Well, I want to let you know that it really meant something to me. It was a relief. It meant that I could breathe easier, even if it was for just a moment.

Thank you.

Would you rather?

01. get Fridays off or get Mondays off? Mondays
02. find true love or 10 million dollars? 10 million dollars, easily
03. lose half your hair or lose half your hearing? I already have poor hearing, so
04. be poor and work at a job you love or be rich and work at a job you hate? it’s a toss up
05. go without the internet or a car for a month? a car. definitely a car
06. have to sit all day or stand all day? depends on whether I have decent shoes on or not
07. dump someone else or be the person getting dumped? dump someone else
08. drink a cup of spoiled milk or pee your pants in public? really? really?
09. have your flight delayed by 8 hours or lose your luggage? have my flight delayed
10. be in your pajamas all day or in a suit all day? pajamas, hands down
11. have a missing finger or have an extra toe? hmm… missing finger
12. never use the internet again or never watch TV again? never watch TV again
13. be invisible or have super speed? uh, super speed, I guess?
14. have an extra hour every day or have $40 given to you free and clear every day? I’d probably be okay with either one
15. have a photographic memory or be able to forget anything you wanted? photographic memory
16. able to lie without being caught or always be able to tell when someone is lying? BOTH
17. be a clown that distracts the bull or the bull rider on the bull? bull rider on the bull
18. be known as a drug dealer or be known as a liar? hahahahahaha
19. eat only KFC for a month or eat only Taco Bell for a year? ugh. I guess… Taco Bell? I don’t know
20. be your favorite video game character or be your favorite movie character? movie character
21. run 26 miles or swim 5 miles? swim 5 miles
22. hold your pee all day or go pee every 5 minutes? ugh; neither
23. be a famous rapper or be a notorious mobster? notorious mobster
24. be eaten by a zombie or be burnt at the stake? burnt at the stake
25. never drink soda again or never eat pizza again? soda… I guess
26. see everything blurry or see everything in black and white? black and white
27. be stuck in a room with dead bodies or eat 5 spiders? dead bodies. definitely dead bodies
28. be deaf and have no legs or be blind with no arms? deaf with no legs

(via heckyeahtumblrchallenges)

Poetry 20, 2014

People ask me why I keep writing about the same event
over and over, why I seem to focus on something so tragic,
so distasteful, so unwieldy again and again.

On December third two-thousand six in the very early
morning, maybe two or three hours after midnight, you—
a man whom I had thought was a friend—pressed me down
into the cold tile with your full weight.
Along with my growing terror, the sharp pain that shot up
my hips and lower back and paralyzed me and surely made
your attack against me that much easier to complete.

When I’m able to say anything at all, I tell those people
that I keep writing about it because it keeps happening.
I’m still affected by it; this ‘tragic’, ‘unwieldy’ event
still closes my throat and stops my tongue. ‘Distasteful’
doesn’t even begin to describe it properly.

I told you “no”. I told you “get off”. I told you “stop”.
You unzipped my jeans and reached your hand inside my pants,
tearing my underwear in your delusion. I couldn’t move, and I
couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stop you.
Literally, I could not physically stop you.

When I’m able to clear my throat enough to breathe
again, I tell those people that I keep writing about it
because they keep asking about it. I keep writing about it
exactly because they keep asking about it.

You took what you wanted from me, skin on skin, mingled sweat
drenching the hem of my shirt and the top of my jeans.
When I struggled, you said,
“I know you like it rough. Let’s just have some fun.”

I keep writing about it because people ask me,
“What did you do to provoke him?”
instead of
“Why didn’t anyone teach him not to rape?”

———
Prompt: Write a confessional poem. NaPoWriMo