Choice and Blood.

Yes, folks, you guessed it. It’s a d20 mod based on the Pro-Choice vs Anti-Choice fight. Come and get it.

When I was 18, I wrote a poem about going to see Nicole Blackman read at NYU’s Women’s History Month opener.

I liked the poem. I spoke to Nicole twice at readings she had, and she encouraged me to send the poem to her. I forgot for a bit.

When I tried to send it, I couldn’t find it. It wasn’t on my computer, and I couldn’t locate any paper copy. As of two days ago, I hadn’t seen the poem for three years. I idolized that poem, believed it to be one of my best.

I found it the other day. I was very excited. I rushed to Ian’s room and offered to read him the poem. He eagerly accepted. I recited it from the page, and as I did, my voice fell.

It wasn’t nearly as good as I remembered. In fact, only about half of the last stanza and other scattered lines were good at all.

I feel like a child that just found out that there is no Santa Claus.

Below, I include the only good part of the poem:

She
moved with the words. My friend tore at the
tablecloth at the sight of her
stroking her thighs. I sat
transfixed
freezing the image of her into
my mind.

Sadly, it is out of context. But as in life, it is all I have.

This is as inspired by Roxy in her irrefutable blog, Roxy Dallas Thanks You

Today, Facts 1-10 and one bonus fact

1) I came to America because my family and I were granted refugee status. Thus, all Fugees songs apply to me.

2) One time in 7th grade, I stole my mom’s sedatives and used them to drug my friends.

3) I have nicknamed people things like Frenchy McSlutface and Beastie and then used these nicknames as their sole referents for years.

4) I have had three jobs in my life. One was a page at a library, one was a cold caller at Buzzback, and now I work at Apple.

5) I have an intense toothache right now.

6) I idolize Anne Boleyn.

7) I have always wanted to get my nipples pierced. I will probably never do this.
I intensely enjoy pretending to be stupid.

9) I read much more as a child than I do now.

10) I ordered too many high school yearbook pictures because I overestimated how many friends I had.

BONUS!) I wish the Flying Spaghetti Monster would have its way with me.

Apparently I can snore quite aggressively, and then just as suddenly stop snoring and be a normal person.

Roxy and I did hookah wednesday night. Hade Bade was packed, so we went to Gabriel’s, a smaller place. Gabriel thanked us profusely the entire time and was so sweet and kind. We tried a grape mango hookah and it was delicious. There were four kids there, obviously in high school, with 40s under their coats. They took surreptitious sips when they thought we weren’t looking. There was also a woman who was there alone with her dog. She spoke to us occassionally and was a general freakazoid.

But the wine we had was lovely. There is a liquor store on A and 5th. It’s like the Ghetto City Liquor Store. This guy works there, who looks like a total random hispanic thug. But he knows his wine. He recommended us a Oregonian Pinor Noir called Firesteed, and it was lovely. It was spicy in the middle and smooth going down. I love that man, he knows his wine. Also, likely, his meth.

So, after a grand time, we retreated to Casa de Roxy, where I promptly fell asleep with a pillow over my head and she stayed up til 5 am.

Around 9:30, we dragged ourselves out of bed and ate breakfast, and then somehow made it to the Staten Island ferry.

Now, a word. I spent many formative years on staten island. High school, in fact. I have not been back for many moons. It was somewhat cathartic for me.

The ferry terminal has been completely redone since my time. It is now nice and light and smells clean. It used to be very ‘this was made in the early 70s’ and smelled like hobo. We thereafter took a new ferry, the ones with four levels, and inspected it thoroughly. The Moviefone guy does the announcements for it, it’s strange.

Then we took the S61 Bus to the Mall and I showed Roxy the sights:
1) A sign reading; “Let the Pre-Born Babies Live”
2) A sign reading; “The only choice is Life”
3) A sign reading; “Pleasure Palace”

We get to the mall, go pee at Macy’s, and make our way over to the Apple Store. We were expecting it to be pooptacular. Their cable management left something to be desired, but they informed me that they had run out of the small zip ties.

We talked to one girl there, Danielle, she was their superstar. But we spent most of our time in the back with one of their Geniuses, James, and one of their soon to be geniuses, Eugene. They ate their lunch with us, and we talked about Apple Stuff, and we looked at how their store was, and they were incredibly nice and sweet. We’d come to their store expecting to laugh at its punyness, but they work hard there and are great people.

After that, we walked around. I felt the need to go into Hot Topic, because I am ironic like that. At hot topic, I purchased a preposterous crucifix as a prop for game.

[Scene] I walk to checkout counter

Me: Hi, I’d like to purchase this preposterous crucifix
Dude: Ok
[transaction proceeds]
Dude: Have a nice night
Me: It’s still day
Dude: Uh
Me: Well, I guess it’s always night at Hot Topic.

Roxy died laughing. And then we went to Pacific East and feasted on Sushi and fried ice cream.

When we came out the mall, it had been snowing, and it was beautiful. We just barely made the 61 bus back to the Ferry. By the time we came out in manhattan, we were all smiles. It was an excellent adventure.

Yesterday I was at a friend’s house, after a long day of working and then cutting fabrics and things like that. Let’s call this friend Claus. Claus is a coworker of mine and lives with another coworker of mine. I was at Claus’ house, along with my friends Olivier and Kelly. Right? These are all fake names and I think I am hilarious.

Nonetheless, Claus, Olivier and Kelly and I were all having a lovely time, singing and dancing to 90s music and being general miscreants. I was getting pretty tired, but I didn’t want to break up the party. Kelly and I were sitting on the couch, and Claus and Olivier were dancing to an O-Town song I swear I have never heard before in my life. It was fun and funny.

It was around 2 am. Another coworker of ours arrived, let’s call him Yogi. Why? Cause he’s stupid.

Yogi had his girlfriend with him, and after exchanging pleasentries with the rest of us, sat down in a chair facing the couch where Kelly and I were looking at our friends dancing. I’d had only a few conversations with Yogi before this, but he was always fascinated by the fact that I “like girls.” (Which I hate saying, btw. I really don’t view my orientation as anything special. But that brings up to what happened.)

He turns to us and says “So are you guys going to hook up?”

There are two possible reactions to this. There’s laughter and there’s awkwardness. I believe I firmly stepped into the latter camp when my reaction was an incredulous “What?”

He stammered out offensively, asking us if we were together. If he meant sitting on the couch together, then I guess so. “I thought you liked girls?” He said to me.

“Yes,” I replied, “but she doesn’t.”

He laughed, and I turned to her and said that this was the most awkward thing ever and that we had to go.

We left in a matter of minutes.

What I don’t understand is what it is about my being a lesbian that means that I am attracted to or sleep with every single girlI meet. Am I not allowed to have friends I don’t have feelings for? Am I not allowed a normal existence? Is my affirming myself as a sexual being an invitation for harrassement from small-minded men?

Kelly and I were both pretty put off by Yogi and what he said. And it killed the party, it really did. It’s like coming up to two people just sitting there and asking them if they’re going to have sex. That behavior is polite in very few contexts. However, if I were straight, he never would have asked me that. And I honestly am not sure if I can have any more conversations with him. Because this kid wasn’t even drunk. But he is an idiot, that’s for sure.