Here’s what you’d be Internetly slapping your hard earned money down for:
I write about my experiences. I write about feminism, and misogyny, and surviving sexual violence. I write about how freaking awesome and brilliant and strong girls are, for the awesome/brilliant/strong kid I was, for the awesome/brilliant/strong kids I haven’t even met yet. I write about the tough-as-nails women who raised me. I write about sex in all it’s silliness and sultryness and joy.
I also write about fairy tales, and zombies, and mermaids, and superhero chicks who save the world a lot. So if you like any of those things, or if you just like me, please consider throwing some dinero my way.
If that sounds worth it to you (and I hope it does), please (if you’re able to!) help a lady out.
Also, as a thank you for your kindness and generosity, I’ll send you post cards and letters and trinkets and sketches of topless mermaids and personalized stories and poems written just for you, if you so desire.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Some thoughts on episodes I watched and didn’t write about, or forgot to watch because I’m a terrible blogger.
WITCH BTVS S1E3
Questions! What happens to the poor schmoes who got caught in the crossfire? The girl who caught on fire before the credits started rolling? The girl whose MOUTH DISAPPEARED. The only person who could maaaaybe explain away being cursed is Cordelia, and only if you consider “Hey maybe I just had a stroke at 16 and that’s why my eyesight suddenly vanished for a day or two that one time” an acceptable way of explaining a traumatic metaphysical attack on one’s person but WHAT ABOUT THE GIRL WHO WAS ON FIRE. Did she have to go to therapy after? Did she leave Sunnydale like fuck this, this time the weird shit was strangely personal, I’m getting outta here. Or did she just…go back to school after a few days/weeks/months in the burn unit? What kind of message did she sign in Buffy’s yearbook, if so? Did she continue cheerleading? Or did she did she pull a Janis Ian and totally renounce cheerleading and become a gothish skaterchick with a revenge kick for plastics? WHAT HAPPENED TO AMBER is what I’m saying.
TEACHER’S PET BTVS S1E4
Mostly I just think Xander shoulda died in this one.
Armed with strawberries and Nutella, and some vanilla cream tea from a tea bag (Giles would be so disappointed), I am ready to continue my Grand Buffy Rewatch. I’m starting about an hour later than I’d meant to, and I’m pretty distracted by the Nutella right now, but oh well.
One of my favorite things about being part time is how much more I get to cook. I love to eat, so I love to cook, and the fact that I only have to be in the office 2-3 days a week has only furthered my love of feeding myself (and others! I am Peruvian and Italian; if I didn’t like to feed others, the only explanation would be that I’m a changeling and the real Christina is off gallivanting with the Wee Folk or else was eaten by them nigh on 26 years ago).
My favorite comfort food is noodles, hands down. BUT I’m doing this low carb diet thing, lately, probably because I hate pleasure, idk — ANYWAY. I really wanted soup today, ramen in particular. Since I can’t/won’t eat carbs, I made ramen-less ramen, which is almost but not quite as good. I’ve had a particularly productive morning — I woke up, wrote up a cover letter for a part time writing position, organized some writing coven things, and then wrote roughly a thousand words of novel I’m working on. Usually I don’t like my meals to take too much time away from my writing time (which is why I worship at the alter of my slow cooker, lately) but this took just under an hour and was entirely worth it, if I do say so myself. And I do.
So, as some of the nerdierparts of the Internet have been crowing, today is the 18th anniversary of“Welcome to the Hellmouth”, the first ever episode of my very favorite show Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It wasn’t the first episode I ever saw; that was “Hush” when I was in sixth grade, and I was so scared after seeing the Gentlemen floating around eviscerating people that I didn’t watch BtVS for a full two weeks after that.
But I couldn’t stay away long, and I spent probably the next two weeks yelling at my parents until they let me catch up with the rest of the show. (They thought it was too violent, and too sexy.) I’d been banished from watching Xena for the very same reason, and as a young and helpless eight year old, I’d played by the rules; I’m only now catching up on Xena on Netflix. Buffy was already in Season 4 by the time I encountered it, though, and by then I was a teenibopper hellion; they would have had to pry BtVS out of my cold dead hands. Instead, my dad relented on the condition that we watch it together, which if you ask me is a pretty excellent parenting technique. I still don’t know if I ever want spawn of my own, but I can honestly say that watching BtVS for the first time with a future daughter puts a pretty big tick in the pro-column.
*immediately runs off to read a horrifying birth story about calcium-leaching placentas and episiotomies*
ANYYYYYWAY. Like any true Scoobiestan, I have the entire box set of BtVS on DVD. I also have Seasons 1-4 on DVD, separately, because I started buying them separately with my allowance in high school, and then I got a real job like a grown up in college and was just like FUCK IT, why not have roughly 1.5 box sets.
Pour oil into the slow cooker and season with garlic powder, onion flakes. Cube the pork loin and sweet potato (pealed). Add curry, soy sauce, plum wine vinegar to taste. Add to the slow cooker and let cook for 1-2 hours on high.
Rinse and slice the okra and cherry tomatoes. Take 4-5 garlic cloves of garlic, crush, peal. Add okra, tomatoes, and garlic cloves to the slow cooker for another 1-1.5 hours, switching to low heat in the last 45 minutes or so. Also add some cayenne pepper to taste, if you so desire.
There is external gravity and then there is internal gravity, the gravity of the guts. External gravity is always there; internal gravity spins up, like that ride at the amusement park that pins you to the wall. You might not sink when it hits, not visibly. You might not even brace yourself for a moment on the shelf of fancy jams in the grocery store. But inside, the gravity is too strong for the narrow scaffold of your body to hold. Inside you’ve crumpled dramatically down and you’ve taken the jam shelf with you.
Usage: “I know the jam shop is only a few blocks away, but I’ve got gravity.”
Yesterday was the Inaugural Gathering of my Writing Coven (not to be confused with my general coven, which yes, I am part of a general coven), and it was so successful and great that I’m going to tell you all about it!
First of all, it was group of seven of us, all women, and it was probably the best workshop I’ve ever been a part of.