Forty-seven.
Poet, writer, editor; a graphomaniac, for sure.
Loves the sound of rain, the smell of homemade ratatouille, the pleasure of company, and the serenity of solitude--not all in that order.
Reads way too much; possibly a bibliomaniac.
Otaku since 1990; fujoshi since 2002. Slash fan and advocate of gender-bending/blending.
Loves Japanese style, gypsy music, manga, anime, Russian poets and poetry over all.
Super keen on movies, crime drama, satire, bad puns, and art.
Fat chick--not into thinspo, fatspo, or any spo.
People watcher, eavesdropper, and fond of hidden places.
Singer in a Sunday choir. No, really.
Speaker of Spanish, French, and Portuguese.
In love with libraries.
Misses the pleasure of sitting on a porch greatly.
Personal assistant to a fighting, biting lightning-fast tuxedo cat.
Working on my first book of poetry--look for Set List in 2012!
Alive and living in the City Beautiful, a/k/a Coral Gables.
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| sponsors + You Are a Dog [kindle]I stand at the white throne—a luminous chamber, where the Trinity stand, books open, scenes from my life replayed on the walls.
“You fell in love with a girl at the age of 18.”
“Yes. That’s true.”
“You lay with a woman as with a man, while in college.”
“I did indeed make love to her, I won’t deny.”
“You cursed the Lord more than once, blaming Heaven for your pain and grief.”
“There were times when I couldn’t bear hearing that my tears, my anger, my losses were all my fault.”
“You don’t think that being queer is a sin.”
“Do you think that being left-handed is a sin? Or having green eyes?”
The books close.
“One more thing: do you really think that you deserve Heaven?”
“If you mean to tell me I’m guilty if I take back what I’ve said and done—by all means, send me to the Pit.”
Silence.
you make me feel I’m dirt
and I’m hurt
and if I start a commotion
I run the risk of losing you
and that’s worse
I’m a mixed bag at the moment.
Yesterday was one of those days where I wanted to cry, laugh, and curl up into a ball. I’m still feeling the impact.
The Coral Gables Cultural Council held a meeting, so I went to see and hear. Strolled and window-shopped, came home, changed clothes, and went off to the library.
After I left, I went to Books and Books, where the Coral Gables Democratic Club was meeting. Talked to a couple of people with Occupy Miami, listened to several speakers—among them Alex Sink, ran into Grisel S. from my days at LACC. She gave me her card.
And somewhere along the way, the frustration over being jobless, combined with grief and PTSD flashbacks, steamrolled me. It was a wonder I didn’t hurl myself onto the parquet and start wailing. I ran into Jonathan Rose and Liz, and they helped me chill. Also got an offer to volunteer for a mayoral candidate race, met several more interesting people…
I wanted to stay in bed this morning. But I had to remind myself what was going down tonight (I read at Books & Books, at the Famous Last Friday poetry night) and got up, fed Ten-Ten, and got out to check my email.
I’m nervous and jumpy and I still feel like laughing and crying all at once. Forgive me for unburdening. I just need to know I’m heard.
Fat Tony Vinyl Figure by Ron English Satirizes Kellogg’s Tony the Tiger
I’m not sure whether to laugh or to sick up. I’m leaning toward sicking up, though.
I make no secret of my fascination with slash; I have a serious jones for Hotch/Rossi slash, with Reid/Rossi not far behind.
And now, I’ve developed a thing for Shassie (Shawn Spencer/Carlton Lassiter) slash. That, after getting hooked on psych.
I honestly thought I’d gravitate more to Shawn/Gus—but there’s something about the love/hate relationship between these two, and that hint of a Different Kind of Tension (apologies to the Buzzcocks and their fans).
One of the reasons I like slash pairings for crime shows, I think, is that it opens a world of possibilities (emotional, romantic, sexual) that you don’t always see. Crime drama is, after all, pretty straitlaced, not to mention pretty straight. And in the absence of actual LGBTQ characters that aren’t victims or villains (or, as they call them on Criminal Minds, UnSubs), it’s as close as I can get. (I don’t have LOGO, and odds are, if PBS were to opt a Beeb police show with gay principals, it would air after midnight. Sigh.)
Slash lovers (and haters): care to weigh in?
I finished reading Are You My Guru? How Medication, Meditation and Madonna Saved My Life, by Wendy Shanker.
She hooked me with The Fat Girl’s Guide to Life (I have to go by the Gables Trolley Garage, as I left it on a trolley and would like to finish reading it), and now I truly would like to kick myself for not hoofing it to Temple Israel to hear her speak.
That said, if she comes back and gives a reading at Books and Books: I’m camping out.
She’s funny, fierce, fab-u-lous. And I would gladly plant a kiss on her…in my daydream, anyhow.
Colors of the Sky by Eric Cahan
I’m often amazed at the imagination and playfulness of Japanese street style. As I’ve said before, I wish American street style showed some of the verve you see in styles ranging from gyaru, to Lolita, and beyond.
as the beautiful being you truly are.
