The recent commentary on what constitutes "real" rape make me sick. The survivor stories that people are sharing have been powerful, disgustingly numerous, and hard to read. There are so many stories. There are so many people who have been hurt.

At the same time, those stories make me wonder- why do we live in a world where rape victims are pressed to prove their credentials? I don't mean any offense to anyone sharing their story. I mean offense to anyone who thinks they have the right to demand that a victim of sexual assault be violated in the way THEY deem worthy, bad enough, life-altering enough to matter. And so I wonder, how many people sharing these stories are feeling like they have to prove their assaults mattered? Hell, I've been challenged on my claims by a therapist I was seeing, a mental health professional whom I trusted, and I stuttered through my proof like I owed it to him.

I don't know if I've spent another week in recent memory living this close to my assaults. But when I hear ignorant, powerful men telling the world, again, that some stories don't matter, that some victims don't count, you can bet I'm angry. You can count on the fact that all of those stories are told in one voice, growing louder by the minute. While it's horrifying how many people can tell the same story, each and every one of them, and all the people who can't or won't or don't, are real. And we don't have to prove it to anyone.
Sweet crunchy christ, just GO AWAY.

I am not your girlfriend.
I am not your mother.
I am not your BFF.
I am not your anything, except possibly professional acquaintance and not-terribly-close friend. I get that you would like to be closer. I would not.

I am not required to speak to you at all hours of the day, nor to hang on your every word. You should give up on the expectation that you will be the center of my focus at all times. I have made all the allowances for your issues that I am comfortable making, and have clearly stated my boundaries and the parameters of our friendship. If you can't deal with that, without giving me a constant view of your Butthurt over my enforcement of boundaries, then FUCK OFF.

AUGH. People frustrate the shit out of me.
Going to see Mumford and Sons on their Bristol VA/TN Gentlemen of the Road stopover tomorrow. [ profile] lambourngb and I are leaving right after work. ROAD TRIP!

I'm so excited!
I've reached the point where I wish it WAS a spider in my ear canal, because then I could rain a molten wax vengeance down upon it and GET RID OF THE ITCHING.

It's day two of Augmentin, and I remember why I hate it. I would like to feel better now, please. I would also like full auditory capacity in my right ear before I see Mumford and Sons on Saturday.

And I was just kidding about the spider.

That dress

Jul. 16th, 2012 10:46 am
This might be a Fat Girl thing, I don't know. I think a lot of women have that dress, you know, it was fabulous, it didn't quite fit, but it was on clearance, and ONE DAY.

And I didn't buy those dresses very often, because I was about being the size I was, not the size I might be, and that was okay. But there was one dress- floral and floaty and silk, and so totally not my usual style, but I squirreled it away in my closet, because ONE DAY.

I put that dress on last night, because I knew it was going to be a million and one degrees, not to mention sticky today, and I thought a floaty little silk dress would be kind of awesome. And I knew it probably wouldn't fit, but whatever, maybe I'd finally accept that and let the dress go.

It wasn't ONE DAY. I seem to have skipped right over that day, in fact, and the dress is actually too big for me now. I'm wearing it anyway, because fuck it, it's gorgeous, but damn. If you're not watching out, One Day passes you right by.
I'm back from Seattle and St. Augustine, ever-so-slightly tan (okay, really- less pale, and with a couple extra freckles on my nose, for Stanley to laugh at me about), tired, and wishing I was still in either location.

Walked over 20 miles in the 4 days I was in Seattle, and it was all cool, and caffeinated, and awesome. I love Seattle. I took my nephew to Gasworks Park, and we flew a tie-dye rainbow kite above the ruins of industry, and the inflated head of the Statue of Liberty. I managed, for the second time, to pick the week Salumi is closed every year, so I did not partake of the cured meat feast. I bought a whole salmon from the fish market at Pike Place, and they yelled at each other and tossed it back to be cleaned and wrapped, and then I cooked the hell out of that thing, and it was beyond excellent. I met a new family member, in the form of my sister's gentleman caller. I had a raspberry mocha at Peet's, and about half a dozen other drinks at my new favourite coffee shop, Bedlam Coffee. I made my Mom laugh, and we talked and sauntered and shopped, touched anemones, and gaped at otters, all a-touristy. Thank you, Seattle. I love you, in case I didn't mention it enough.

Left Seattle, and flew to Jacksonville, where the partner in crime picked me up, and we scooted back to our condo. Friends were already in from their Disneyland vacation, so there was more visiting, and lots of food, talking, shopping (window, in my case), and eventually naps of great glory. It should be noted that this half of the trip was decidedly less caffeinated, and it showed. There was much beaching, some swimming in the pools, catching up with still MORE friends (these by proxy, though the time I spent with them was lovely and amusing), and heaps of fried seafood. The perfect date night was had, in the form of neighbourhood-cruising, the St. Augustine art walk, dinner in a charming cafe, plotting out the desires for our dream home, and topping it all off with milkshakes. I did some painting at the beach, fried my hair to a crispy crackle of salt-cured tangles, and thought about all the things I want to write, and how I can accomplish them.

I'm back at the day job today, fighting the air conditioning wars with my co-irker, drinking sub-standard iced coffee, and wishing I was looking up through purpled glass at a world that barely knows I'm there, or tripping over my own toes, caught in the cracks of a city celebrating its 450th birthday. Instead, I'll go do the payroll, to remind myself of the check that keeps paying for these things.


Jun. 29th, 2012 07:28 am
I'm off to Seattle in about 9 hours. A few days there, hanging out with my Mom, sister, and nephew (and I believe sister's SO, for one day), then I hop a plane to Jacksonville, and rejoin the Collective vacation, already in progress.

I packed almost everything, for both trips, into a single carry-on bag. I didn't even zip it out for extra space. I'm sure what that really means is I forgot half my stuff, but as Michelle pointed out, it's not like there's not a Target somewhere.

Lots of work to get done before I go, so I guess I'd better get to it. Catch you on the flip-side.
Peripheral People has been sent back to the editor, and now is the time on Sprockets when we wring our hands and wait and hope it doesn't suck quite so much as it used to.

In other news, Dropbox, OMFG, how are you so awesome?

Bed. Sleep, from what I'm told anyway, is what makes us happy.
Happy Birthday, [ profile] tammy_g!
Doing our first Broad Universe Rapid Fire Reading this weekend at Balticon, and looking forward to it. You know, in that way where I look forward to things that make me want to hide under tables. The GoH, Jody Lynn Nye, is a Broad, so it should be an excellent turn out. The RFR at RavenCon was the biggest crowd I'd seen all weekend (except at our Self-Promo and Social Anxiety panel. Woot!) so I suspect this one will be well-attended.

For some reason, we have an autograph session set up. So if you're in the lobby, feel free to linger near our table and make it look like we have fans. ;)

Off to finalize my panel notes, so I can spend this evening baking cupcakes for our release party.
Will I remember the newsletter come Monday?

Let's hope so.

Meanwhile, I very much suspect that this headache has more to do with the new birth control I'm trying than the weather, and it needs to go away now. I have too much to do to be coddling body parts at the moment.
You know, it's probably good that I'm functionally monogamous with a woman, because if my taste in fictional men is anything to go by, I would have the worst taste in boyfriends EVAR. (Note to any gentlemen reading this whom I may have flirted with on occasion- not you.)

Seriously. I really, really like utter jerks, if not outright assholes. Redeeming qualities are preferred, but it's okay if they mostly hinge on backstory and conjecture, with triple bonus points for the bastard behaviour being a cover for an inner woobie.

I want to believe that I know better with actual people, but I might be kidding myself.
I have a floor loom to give away. It's a six harness, direct-tie, likely Harrissville Designs, built in the 70's. I have one, 8-dent reed for it. There is some damage to the beater- one side is broken, but this could be easily fixed with some wood glue and a small piece of wood. The treadles will need to be tightened up or re-strung at some point, but the loom is in working condition. If you're not handy, you could use a large binder clip to hold the reed in place while you weave.

If you're in the semi-local (DC-ish) area, or know someone who is and would be interested, email me - reesah (at) gmail
As of Wednesday, I'd been on LJ for ten years.

I have a ten year record of every cranky moment I've ever had. Go me!
My desire not to edit has forced me to write fanfic.

Well, something like fanfic, anyway. Something that would be fanfic, if it were, in fact, a real story, and not just the sketch of one and some of the good parts.

In conclusion, Frank is not an elf.
Hey! Look at me, remembering to tell people things while there is still time to plan for them!

Michelle and I will be appearing at Balitcon 46, Memorial Day weekend (May 25-28, 2012) in Baltimore, MD.

We don't have our full panel schedule yet, but we do know for sure that on Sunday evening, from 5:30 to 6:15 p.m., you can join us in Parlor 1041 for the Cupcakes and Con Men party, to celebrate the paperback release of The Slipstream Con. We'll be plastering wanted posters and party details all over the various nooks and crannies of the hotel, but you can firmly state that you heard it here first. Please stop by for free cupcakes, party games, and frivolity of a Ylendrian bent. We will have paperback copies of The Slipstream Con for sale at the event, and would be thrilled (giddy, perhaps, given the amount of sugar we intend to have on offer!) to personalize a copy to send home with you.
I will shortly begin posting here and crossposting to LJ. I'm sure that thrills you to no end.

I guess I should figure out how to import everything, too.
Ages ago, back in the darkness of 2009, I created and posted this to [ profile] ontd_startrek:Read more... )

Today, George Takei posted something I wrote on Facebook. And I don't care what kind of dorky goober it makes me- I'm grinning like mad!


Mar. 14th, 2012 03:14 pm
an_sceal: (Live nude women)
Sometimes it hits me that I'm still here.

Here, I mean. Alive.

I don't know if that will ever stop being a surprise to me, but I hope it never stops being the best thing I ever screwed up.
Did I ever post this here? (TOO MUCH SOCIAL MEDIA!) It's kind of too late now, isn't it?

We're having a book release party tonight, details as follows:

We'll be celebrating the release of "The Slipstream Con" in paperback. Come join us from 7:30 to 9:30 p.m. We'll have free samples of our favourite drinks, a raffle, and plenty of books to personalize for you.

Starbucks Coffee Co 9280, 6910g Bradlick Shopping Ctr, Annandale, VA 22003

If you're in the DC area and can stand the thought of putting up with me for free coffee, drop in!

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