Monday, October 31, 2011
Okay it's story day.
Occasionally in my early 20's I went to randomish house parties. You know the kind where someone you know says hey there's this party and you go and blablabla.
So I went to this party where I knew some people, I must have been 22-23 and a friend pointed out a dude who kept staring at me. He was a kind of scruffy punk kid, our age or so. Neither of us could tell if it was OMG YOU'RE HOT staring or OMG BLACK PEOPLE staring.
We ignored him for the most part until we went to leave and he kind of trailed my friends and I. He walked behind us for a while and several of my friends were getting ready to put a beating on this dude for being creepy.
Then it happened.
He caught up and I turned to face him and said hello at which point he promptly burst into tears.
It was an awful moment. None of us really knew what to do so I kind of patted him awkwardly and we all migrated to someone's apartment.
We got him settled down and he asked if he could buy us beers, we said yes and then he asked if he could talk to me. I sat with him on the patio under the watchful eye of some friends.
This kid took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to show me his badly done Nazi tattoos. Then he launched into a gut wrenching story about how he'd been a skinhead from the ages of about 13 to 20, gone to jail, got out and left the fold. He'd been harassed and threatened and beaten to the point where he came clear across the country to get away.
He said he'd been staring at me because I was the first Black person he'd been in social contact with and he wanted to tell someone of color that he was sorry. He confessed a lot of things to me. He told me he'd beaten guys up, scared girls, done other awful things and that he was working some bullshit part time job and saving up money for cover ups and tattoo removal.
Prior to that point anyone who had ever been racist was dead to me. I did not give a fuck if they had changed or not. Fuck them. Fuck them, fuck their families, fuck their children.
At first I was pissed off and resentful that for some reason he'd elected to see me as the face of all black people everywhere.
And then when I looked at his face and heard him cry. When he took my hand and squeezed it and said he was sorry over and over again, I couldn't in good conscious be mad.
The pain I saw in that young mans face was the same pain I saw in the faces of friends of mine who'd been in gangs in their youth. It wasn't any different. I saw that he held out no hope for his own future because he'd really fucked up as a kid.
I wanted to pay for him to get his tattoos fixed. I wanted to give him a good job and tell him that he wasn't a piece of shit forever.
I couldn't really do that so I did what I could. I hugged him and told him that I forgave him. Not because I was the face of Black folks everywhere but because I could see that he was in serious soul deep pain and that he needed one person to give him a chance.
I gave him a chance and we became friends. Not great friends but friendly enough that we could meet up for a beer or go to a show together. I recommended books about Black history and the truth about the civil rights movement. He explained a lot of what his life was like when he was a Skinhead.
He wasn't the only former racist or criminal that was ever in my life.
Because of him I read more about skinheads and various supremacist factions. At a certain point in my reading I realized that I feel terribly sorry for some of these people. I pity their children and I pity the people who try to get out but can't make it.
So there's your Halloween story.
I'd also like to add that when I'm fabulously rich one thing I must do is pay for cover ups or removal of gang, skinhead etc tattoos for people who want them. I wish I was a tattoo artist so I could do that work at steeply discounted prices.
It's on my bucket list.
Happy Halloween my homies.
And Happy Anniversay to Uniballer and I.
I'm tempted to say something cheesy here but I'll leave it at saying that we're still on the crazy train.
Friday, October 28, 2011
First off let's get a few things perfectly clear.
This isn't about anyone at XoJane on a personal level. Not at all. This is about how I as an individual in all my intersectedness (yes it's that kind of day y'all I'm making up words) and why regardless of my want to be into it I'm just not.
So I said this on Tumblr last night after I sat down at my desk at home, took a deep breath and decided to give XOJane another shot.
I’m trying with xojane again.
Yes I see there’s a staff member of color that’s nice.
Well I am scrolling (and scrolling and scrolling) through the beauty section.
I see a lot of thin pretty white ladies trying a lot of expensive shit and being very clever.
I pretty much feel the same way I did when I gave up Sassy all those years ago.
These are not my people.
So yeah I’m giving up ladymags/websites for good. Save for the occasional fashion mag when I want to look at pretty pictures.
Even after I posted that bit, I spent anther long while scrolling and scrolling and clicking and reading. I read articles from a bunch of their staff, on a variety of subjects.
I have this habit of going for the beauty section of a ladysite* when all else fails.
Once upon a time I was very easily able to overlook the lack of Brown skin in beauty columns.
That is really the thing. I am at the point in my life where I can't continue to ignore my discomfort.
When I talk about Xojane right now I'm not talking about Lesley. Why? Because I already loved her writing and would read it wherever it is.
Bloody hell if y'all could sit here and talk to me about it you'd witness me flapping my hands and making grunty noises.
My thoughts aren't the most linear about it and if you've read me for a while you know I can get a little random. Bear with me.
Let's go back to when XoJ launched. I heard rumors that Jane Pratt had a new project and I was pretty excited. Despite my sad break up with Sassy years before they stopped publishing it was very important for me for a long time.
At first blush I was admittedly let down.
I remember reading and feeling, not a whole lot.
When it comes to what magazines/communities I participate in I have learned to take my own comfort into consideration first.
I let go of the idea that I -have- to try because it's a good idea.
Good ideas are great I love them.
Shit I cannot quite put the genesis of my discomfort into any kind of sensible words.
That being what it is let me just say that as it is right now XoJ isn't really a comfortable place for me. Article after article there was just nothing I could grasp for lack of a better word.
Nothing pulled me in. I felt no resonance. There were no moments when I found myself nodding and saying YES..YES THIS.
Not even a glimmer.
Even my last resort failed miserably. I can only take some White lady specific hair advice so much.
Now, last night the managing editor Emily McCombs (Shit I hope I spelled your name right) responded with this tweet.
@Weebeasty We have several writers of color, altho it's true that our beauty editor is white. We are working on it and welcome suggestions.
She doesn't know me at all so I don't expect her to know this but honestly don't tell me you're working on it.
The working on it issue is one that tweaks my nose.
In this day and age, there is no reasonable explanation for any editor to be having problems working on diversity in a publication.
I say this because no matter what the subject is there are bloggers. There are people on social media, there are eleventy million people writing about eleventy million things.
This was my problem with Shapely Prose when the issue of diversity came up there.
There was a lot of we're trying and we're looking and when I stopped reading not a lot of actual things happening.
Perhaps because I am a writer and I'm into the literary short fiction markets any time an editor can't seem to pull in a new voice or add to a diverse line up I don't really believe it.
Check this out.
If I wanted to have an XoJ type thing and I saw that oh damn I have no brown beauty editors. This is what I would do.
Google- enter Black Beauty Blogger- wait for nine gazillion results. Read. Contact X, Y Z bloggers to hook up a guest post to see if there's chemistry.
Is there Chemistry?
Yes- ask this person to write beauty things for folks of color
No- say thank you and move on to blogger Y.
I quite frankly cannot believe that anyone who says they want to include X people can't use the enormous and vast resource that is the internet.
You don't even have to pay someone. Most writers looking for a break, would probably write something for a link.
It trips me up. Especially when it comes from people I think are smart and whatnot.
I can't take any expression of wanting to be inclusive seriously when it takes a really long time or seems, uh foot draggy I guess. I'm not saying that's exactly what's happening, it just feels that way to me.
Perhaps the internet has spoiled me. Or I read more blogs and whatnot than your average bear. I don't know. Part of my side eye over any zine or community "trying" for diversity is that it seriously takes five minutes to find eleven million links on any subject.
I don't feel like it would be super hard to glance at a page worth of google results to see if someone's work says OH HEY ME ME ME ME.
If you've read me for a while you know I have the same attitude with Etsy/indie designers who can't seem to figure out how to find a fat fit model.
If it were fifteen or shit even five years ago I'd cut people way more slack. I would. Not right now.
So there are all these feelings.
What it boils down to is a situation like this.
It feels like walking into a club or party or coffee shop meet up and you're really excited. You really want to love and participate and contribute. After a while you look around and you just don't really feel comfortable. It's not that you feel unwelcome exactly, no one is mean to you or douchy there is just that moment where you feel like, okay maybe these aren't my people.
While yes it's a really sad thing it's not the end of the world. I don't say these things because I think the writers or editorial staff at XoJ are bad. It's not personal, it's not an ethics issue, it's not a social justice issue.
So there you have it.
Likely I will look back at XoJ at some point. It boils down to one of those big truths about life in general. Not everything is for everybody and sometimes that's just fine. In the end there's just not much for me there and I don't tend to read things that I don't particularly enjoy.
*I use terms like ladysite in very general terms as on "women's interest" as it tends to be defined in the publishing world. Not in a personal if you aren't a lady you can't play kind of way.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
I wasn't going to do one but I feel the need to tell y'all something.
So I am signed up with this website Influenster which I think I mentioned at some point before. Basically I got a box of all natural goodies to try out for free. It is kind of awesome and I do recommend signing up.
We all know that I am a beauty product lover.
I am also someone with super sensitive super oily skin and I've been forever on the hunt for not just a cleanser but The. Cleanser.
My darlings, I'm in love.
I recieved a full sized bottle of Derma E's Very Clear Problem Skin Cleanser. It was actually the last thing I tried in the box because I was very afraid that my skin would react negatively.
My skin is so picky and sensitive that I'd been using just my babywash on it which while it got my face clean wasn't really working to keep it clear.
This cleanser. THIS CLEANSER.
First impression was that it smells like awesome. The combo of their major active ingredients as stated on the website:
This combo works for me. Normally most anti acne or skin clearing products are too harsh and my face will burn, peel or have a massive set of break outs.
As with any new facial product I wait for at least a month before I make my decision about it. I need to make it through my menstrual cycle before I decide because if something is going to irritate my skin the time it is going to happen is during my period.
My skin is doing so well.
My skin feels moist and not stripped. My breakouts, even my PMS oh *CRAP* breakout was minor, my skin is calm. My face isn't itchy. My skin doesn't feel annoyed after I rinse the cleanser off of my face.
The big test is using it twice daily. Once in the morning and once at night. During the day the amount of break through oil I have on my face is fairly minimal.
Other people have noticed that my skin looks better even though I'm using more sheer foundation.
Here is where we need to talk about self care.
This product costs 15$.
That doesn't seem like a lot to lot of people but to me I've been on the fence.
I've talked it over with my partner Uniballer and I will be buying it again.
The thing is that even though we might be kind of broke I do feel like it's worth it to buy this product because it makes my skin feel and look good. My skin looking and feeling good makes me feel good on the inside.
Fact is, of the many things that sometimes screw with my self esteem, my skin is usually the #1 culprit.
This is something I've struggled with and cried over and been devastatingly depressed about off and on for 20 years.
I've spent so much time being self conscious about how oily my skin is, the scars and dark marks on my face, the chicken pox scar on my forehead that tends to catch the light and all the money I've spent on fade creams, anti acne, prescriptions etc none of it ever worked and it always made me sad.
As I head for my official mid-30's I decided that I don't want to feel that way all the time. I don't want to be embarrassed and have my irritated busted up skin be the thing that ruins my day.
So it's worth the 15$. It's worth it to feel an actual difference in my skin. It's worth it to me to not be constantly having painful irritation. To not be peeling and so greasy my face looks wet.
To conclude my homies. If you have skin that is prone to violent freak outs and you like the smell of tea tree oil I highly suggest this cleanser. If you can spend 15$ on it, give it a shot.
The lesson here is that sometimes even a small thing like a new skin cleanser can make all the difference in your day. Yes some people think that's stupid and that's okay. They don't need to get it. The only person who needs to feel good about your self care practices is you.
Do your thing.
NO WAIT. PS. My homies, tell me what new or usual things you're doing to support yourself and care for yourself. Do we want to talk about self care more?
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
I'm not really going to talk about the usual mainstream pressures of not being weird or different. I'm going to talk about intra-racial tensions I struggled with at one time.
Okay so picture this. It is 1989 and yours truly is ass over mother fucking tea kettle in love with Axl Rose. I wanted nothing more than to do, well things to that man. I wasn't sure what things but things. I was still a little hazy on the actuality of sex so it wasn't on my radar.
I mentioned my new found lust for Mr. Rose to one of the few other Black kids I went to school with and she reacted with horror. I remember she had this look and said,
"You're a rocker now?"
At the time I didn't admit it but I had no clue what she was talking about so I just said yes.
Apparently I had just revealed myself to the few other Black kids as being not really Black.
So began years and years of other people of color questioning my Blackness because of the music I like, the way I dressed etc.
Over the years I've had many White friends disbelieve that this happens. It does.
The plain fact is I've had more issues, arguments and experienced more pain in relation to my appearance and musical tastes from other Black folks.
I have been confronted by complete strangers and cruicified because they didn't like that I had on all black.
I have had random strangers, usually strangers of color ask me if I was a Satan worshiper, in a cult, or my least favorite question to ever be asked- Why are you trying to be White?
Let that last sink in.
People have fully expected me to have an explanation as to my own apparently disappearing Blackness. People have decided and as recently as two weeks ago that me being my actual self is somehow a slap in the face.
When I was a kid all I was when that happened was hurt. I remember sitting by myself (so goth of me) in my bedroom crying my eyes out because it hurt me so deeply. I was just growing into my own Blackness. I was just figuring out that I was proud to be Young, Gifted and Black.
I was just starting to figure out how to live in my Black skin and be a Black person in a country that from the jump made sure I knew in many ways just how much I didn't matter.
It was a devastating experience for me and for a few years made me really dislike other people of color.
Yes I did.
Well I would have said I did but deep down I didn't. I was just young, hurt and trying to protect myself.
When I was a young adult I had some similar experiences when I found some of the rare Black community events here in Seattle and was given the cold shoulder.
I'm telling you this because when you see Aging Black Goths like me, or aging Black punks look at them and know that if they got into it young, they have probably dealt with a lot of these same issues.
I also want to caution other Alt folks of color not to be shitty to other Alt folks of color. I know that you probably get teased and people talk shit about you but, remember if that other person is at the same show or wearing the same shit they probably get it.
I'd also like to stand as someone who made it through that bullshit and out the other side. I no longer dislike or even pretend to dislike other people of color. I understand that a lot of people will hate and fear things they don't understand.
At 34 years old I no longer take it personally when someone looks me up and down then demands to know why I have my lip pierced or wants to explain to me all the ways it's awful to be a Doc Marten wearing lady.
I just don't care.
I know what I like. I know what aesthetically pleases me and that's all that really matters to me anymore.
That said yes, I do still find it appalling that 90% of the visual representations of my chosen subculture are Thin Pale White Ladies.
Yes it does still make me angry when I am expected to conform to anyones idea of what Black culture is or can be.
Yes it still makes me very angry when people assume that I am somehow actively rejecting my Blackness.
Yes it still makes me angry when anyone comes at me with a stank ass attitude about how I decide to live my life.
Where once all I had were hurt and tears now I have a fat juicy fuck you. No really. That is my answer anytime people ask me in a disrespectful manner about my piercings, way of dress or anything.
If you want to talk about it we can but understand that approach is everything.
Okay next installment will be a fluffy one.
How about a basic gothy make up tutorial?
I have an idea to do a slow photo by photo tutorial. Is good?
Monday, October 17, 2011
When asked, I identify as Femme. I will often say Sparkle Femme due to my love of all things sparkly. I may sometimes say drag queen femme because sometimes all I want to do is look like a shiny mini drag queen with a fabulous wig on. Occasionally I will say Femme with some Butch flavor.
Recently, I had an acquaintance balk at my varied use of the moniker femme.
That irritates the ever loving fuck out of me on so many levels.
On a surface level I feel like my very individual feelings and expression of my gender are not up to debate. They just aren't. I spent a lot of time in my younger years arguing with people over whether or not I could or should be femme, what femmes do and don't do. Fuck that I am too old for that bullshit.
On a deeper level (which at the time I did not have the spoons to explain) I feel like my use of, wearing of and performance of my moniker has been hard won.
When you look at something like tumblr for instance most of the femme iconography is similar. Thin Pretty White Ladies from various time periods. If one looks at me there are many attributes to this archetype of femme that I do not and will never have.
Too often those icons line right up with the Western Ideals of beauty and frankly I'm uninterested as I've written about before.
Firstly I am a black woman. More over I am not a "racially ambiguous" Black woman. My skin is not lightened in pictures, I don't contour my nose with make up or plastic surgery. Sometimes yes I wear my hair straight but there is no mistaking that I am a Black woman. I have been either desexualized because people "just aren't into Black girls" (no not just John Mayer..lots of people have said that to me) or I am hypersexualized because the color of my skin and the texture of my hair is exoticized and othered until I am a fantasy object.
Secondly I am a fat woman. I am the "type" of fat woman who has alternately been labeled as easy because I have big ass titties or completely of no sexual value whatever because I have a fat belly. As far as a lot of people might say either no one would ever want to fuck me because I'm fat or I will fuck any and everyone because I am fat. Desexualized or hypersexualized.
Thirdly, my choice to present however I am presenting on a given day is up to no one but me. I have certain outfits that make me feel a little Butchier than others. For some reason the combination of my burgundy Docs, a certain pair of pants and a V neck sweater makes me feel some swagger even though yes I probably am wearing a fuck load of eye liner along with it. When I was younger I frequently enjoyed wearing a super femme outfit and knowing that underneath I had on boys underwear and was packing a good sized cock. These things are not up for political debate as to whether or not I should be doing them.
For me and my interior and exterior self, femme is a place of power for me.
For me, living in my skin when I walk out of the house with my face made up and a swing in my hips I am coming from a place of interior power. I don't have to follow anyone's guidelines for that.
In the grand scheme of my personal gender identity and how I express it, none of it comes from without. When I say I feel like a total dude, I mean it. I mean it from the inside and I am okay with that. I am fine. I am not confused nor am I gender dysphoric.
I understand that how I do things may make another person uncomfortable but in all reality that isn't on me. The onus to work that out is on the person who is uncomfortable for whatever reason. I don't expect anyone to accept me all the time no matter what, yes it is nice when that happens but not everyone is going to and that's okay. What's not okay in any instance is for anyone else to try and fix me or my labels.
Leave them alone.
I will not stand to have the ways in which I identify rearranged by someone else.
The real truth is that I am a Black Fat Femme who sometimes likes to be a real swinging dick.
In my heart I am still just as gender fluid as I was when I was 6 years old and believed that part of puberty meant I could pick whether to be a man or a woman or a penguin.
In my heart I will make my outsides fit my insides on the day.
Some days that means crazy make up and weird clothes. Other days it means boots and my v neck sweater.
If your expression is different than mine it is not an issue that needs perusing. As far as I know no one is a clone of me and my thing and that's okay. That's great.
I don't care how anyone else identifies.
However we can talk about it and what these things mean to us. We can talk about the variances in how I do femme and how you do femme. Or how you don't do femme.
We can talk about the idea and experience of being comfortably gender fluid in your heart and fairly gender fixed in body.
I don't like feeling some nebulous pressure to argue these things for no other reason than we all do them differently. Sometimes the talk around these things feels like that to me. As if by some weird invisible ruler once we get past a certain amount of similarity we MUST start arguing about who's experiences and presentation is valid.
I don't like that and I don't think it is necessary.
I believe we can learn to navigate talking about these things while remembering that not everything is going to resonant with us personally and not everything is going to make us feel good or similar and it's not that big of a deal.
Different isn't bad it's just different.
And now darlings I think I'm done. I want some tea and to look at lipsticks on the intertubes.
OH before I forget I dropped a link in my sidebar to my fiction collection. If you want to use the graphic for a link somewhere here is the code:
Don't worry about hosting the picture yourself I have plenty of bandwidth.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Okay our homie whom we'll call ChubbyBear emailed me and in order to protect his anonymity I'm going to paraphrase.
Okay for those who aren't in the Gay Lexicon knowlege club we're talking about Bears today. Not GRRR IMMA EAT YOU BEARS..rather no wait go read this at wikipedia.
Our friend ChubbyBear has moved to a new city and settled in comfortably and is looking for the Bear of his dreams to romp around with and be all cute and hairy with.
ChubbyBear's only real problem right now is finding fellow chubby bears. Where he's originally from, he was pretty well plugged in and didn't mess about with internet meets and whatnot so here is what I'm going to suggest can work for anyone who needs to meet some folks.
First thing is if you don't have one already sign up for Fetlife. Over at Fetlife you can meet every kind of kinky person you might want to. And in a lot of the country you can find local people to hang out with. make sure you check out events in your area. Everything from casual munches (meet and greets with food) to play parties to JO (Jack off) parties. ALL THE KINKY THINGS.
Aside from doing the Fetlife thing there are smart phone apps for hook ups. ChubbyBear if you're looking for some hookups do some looking. I cannot remember what the name of the application I'm thinking of is but I'm sure you can find it.
ChubbyBear since you didn't mention shyness I also say go hang out with the other gays. If you're into volunteering do some googling for your city and find out about your local Pride organization. Volunteer to help build floats or do other stuff.
You also don't have to stay just inside the gay community. Does your city have sexy art events? Are there other types of things you like to go to? Go to them.
Here's the thing I've noticed in Seattle.
A lot of events intersect in fantastic ways that cut through whatever other distinctions.
An event might not be labeled as being a gay or queer event but, you get to meet people who might be like minded. And those like minded people might become your new friends or they might know awesome people and introduce them to you.
So the short version of my advice ChubbyBear is be your fabulous self, talk to people. Do your thing.
Okay I turn the tables to you my homies. Do you have any super seekrit awesome advice for ChubbyBear? How do you meet new people to perhaps get naked with?
What ARE single people doing these days?
Oh my darlings.
I give you my first small fiction/poetry collection.
Click the image to buy.
Here's the lowdown.
Short collection of prose and poetry by author Shannon Barber. Each work is presented to the reader with a short introduction about how the piece came about, all stories and poems are presented unedited and in the original state they were written.
My intention with this collection is to push back a little of the curtain between idea and what most readers get to see. I'm giving you a chunk of my writing raw and how it came out of my head. A few of the pieces are very old, written in my early 20's.
Each piece comes with a little bit about the writing of it. In some cases what I was going after and how I felt about it. I want this to be pleasurable for both average readers and for other writers.
Now it costs 4$ and honestly I don't suggest purchasing the plain text. Download the PDF or the ereader versions.
If you can't afford to buy a copy right now there are a million other ways you can support my little adventure.
If you're on Goodreads come be my friend at my brand spanking new shiny author page here.
You can like my Amazon author page, ask me questions and pass it along to your friends.
In other news. I'm looking at a first week of November release for my essays.
I am so excited.
I am starting to enjoy this indie DIY thing a lot.
Now my homies, go forth and frolic. Do the things that make you feel sassy.
And thank you, all of you for all of the wonderful support and the comments and the awesomeness you've displayed over the years. I really appreciate all of you. Yes even you lurkers I love you too.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The short answer is this. It makes me angry. Why is it that now that a lot of White people have problems shit is serious?
Where was the Occupy movement when I (I will be using I in both the personal and larger sense) and millions of people just like me had to decide between food and medication. Decide between bus fare and food, rent and new shoes.
Where was all this righteous indignation when in order to help support a household I worked under the table cleaning the toilets of a woman who routinely called me a dirty cunt just so some children could have food?
To my view these things are suddenly worth mobilizing because they are no longer just poor and people of color problems. The type of problems I have dealt with since I paid my first bill have become the problems of Nice White Folks everywhere.
It is the people who fully expected to get out of college and assume their position in middle class America.
The economy has been tanking for more than a decade and yet, somehow a lot of these people expected that everything would be okay.
This is where I have a problem because I've never had the privilege to be in a position to assume that I am supposed to have more.
Perhaps one too many times where I have gone hungry or eaten bullshit food just so I could eat has made me jaded. I can't be passionate about people who expected more and are suddenly not getting it.
This isn't to say that I don't believe that we're all entitled to a living wage and all that jazz. The thing that sticks in my side is that all of a sudden people are mad.
Furthermore I am a Black person. I am a Black Person in Seattle and I don't feel entirely welcome or represented.
If I were to go plant my ass at the protests, I don't have faith that I would be okay. I'm pretty sure that in a sea of White faces I would a.) stick out and b.) be an easy target for law enforcement.
I don't see a lot of acknowledgement from OWS that protest is a privilege and for a lot of us a major danger.
I do have the privilege of having a full time job. I am the bread winner in my household. I don't have savings. I don't have money for lawyers. I don't have the money to get sick because I've been sitting around in the shitty weather.
When law enforcement comes, what if I were protesting. Would you pay my bail? Would any of the other apparently broke ass people protesting pay my bail? Would you pay any missed wages for court dates or fines? For lawyers fees?
Given the tone of my previous interactions with Seattle police I could promise you I would go to jail.
For a movement so pre occupied with economics, please work those out.
Now when talking about OWS around the nations I can't even.
People with faces like mine straight up got called nigger at a protest. Women carrying a Pan African flag were harassed both at the protest and on the internet.
It is too stressful for me to even contemplate. I haven't had enough mental energy or spoons to deal with that.
I don't want my White friends to take this as some kind of now Shannon hates White people thing because it's not. I will quote a post from Racialicious about it:
This unintended marginalization is occurring daily at #OWS. We know this may be hard for some people to understand. Of course, who could expect us to understand what it is like to be reminded of your skin color every time you leave your home? Who could expect white people to understand that the spaces we feel so comfortable in may feel exclusive or even hostile to people of color? After all, we are never told; we are not forced to learn that our skin color is related to our social status; and we are not taught black and brown history, so many of us do not know how we got here–and cannot imagine it any other way.
From an open letter by Two White Men.
That is the only link I'm giving you. I cannot and will not expose myself to more thing that stress me out and upset me.
Could I go into more detail? Yes.
I won't because dealing with these same type of issues over and over again for my entire damn life is exhausting. I'm not offering up more documentation because if you're reading this you can use the googles. If you don't want to use the googles, use your empathy. It is just too exhausting and painful to me.
If you were me. If you were in my position of having most of the problems the 99% are up in arms about not due to an economic downturn but because you're just fucking poor how would you feel? What if this wasn't a big sudden social justice movement and was just the only life you've ever known?
If you still don't understand then never mind. We're not going to see eye to eye.
I also suggest googling information about Occupy Wall Street and colonialism, racism and Philly. Do things to calm yourself down first because some of that makes for upsetting reading.
I am not part of the 99% as they are showing themselves.
I am part of the who knows how many who have been and remain the working poor. Who regardless of how the economy spins have lost homes, have had no money and no recourse for help. I am one of those people.
(also seriously if kink freaks you out don't read his blog)
Saynine started a post with this statement:
I am a predator. Beware. I come not with a sneak attack, but with fangs bare. I come to seduce you then hurt you and fuck you. I come for your women, and in fact your men, and anyone else capable of consent. This is who I am and what I do.
Now aside from this being a sexy fucking statement this resonates with me so much. Down to my bones.
I've been sitting on some spam-ish comments where readers/people I've offended have complained about some things. Among the things said I am apparently guilty of the following:
- Being indecent
- Having a foul mouth
- Being a fucking bitch
- Not being nice
- Of giving shitty advice
- Of giving advice that "supports" someone in their impending sluthood.
I don't know how many times I've said it, this is my fucking litterbox.
I have never once promised to be Dalai Lama like in my musings. I have never claimed that I am trying to be Dear Abby who will tell you which fork to use. That is not why 99% of the people who read anything I ever write read me.
Here are the facts.
I don't have to do fuck all but be Black and die.
I have not and will not ever promise to be nice. I will not and will never promise to be 'clean'. I will not, have not and will never cease to be who I actually am in order to please you, your mama or anyone else.
I have tried over the years of being on the Fatosphere and in the fat blogging arena to be nice but some of y'all are pissing me off.
So, that said here it is. My Official Word On all Subject Matter in this here blog.
I will say and talk about whatever the fuck I want to.
For those who sent me "concerned" notes pointing to my lack of fatcentricness. I never have claimed to be solely blogging or talking about fat things. My whole life is not about fat things.
I starting blogging under this name long before I was ever tapped to take part in FA.
If these things make you think I am not just a mother fucker but The Mother Fucker that's just fine. There are lots of blogs to read.
These notes are also why my posts slowed down way more. I wasn't entirely certain how I wanted to deal. Then Saynine Sexypants quote there pushed my Mother Fucker button.
In the spirit of his opening shot here's what is about to happen.
I'm going to talk about whatever I want to. This is probably going to include things like food, race, sex, kink, fetishes, my other writing, my ass, my boobs and whatever else.
For the person who "counseled" me against putting my actual name on all my writing lest some future publisher takes issue with the erotica I've written or the sex advice I've given. Fuck them and fuck you too.
What has brought this on my darlings?
First good news, the essays are DONE. My editor and I are about to get down to the details about a firm release date. These essays were hard. It was far more difficult for me to let myself be authentically me and really say some shit. Some of the things I talk about in my essays will hurt you. That's not the only intention and it's not my sadistic streak popping up. They hurt to write and they are going to hurt to read.
I also talk about some things I have never told anyone. Not even my best friend. Not. One. Soul.
So that's happening.
Second good news, end of this week or the beginning of next week I'm going to have a small collection of fiction out via smashwords. Included with these tiny fictions are some notes about how or why I wrote them.
Third good news. I'M BACK BABIES!
I am ready to resume regular posting.
Things are kicking off. I have some sexytimes advice FOR A BOY!! He's a Bear and he's wanting to get kinky. YAY. OMG I LOVE BEARS!!!!...ahem sorry. I'm still squeeing.
Now I am probably going to ask for a lot of support in the coming months. I'm going to need y'all to help me spread links around and I may ask for moral support when I get nervous.
Meanwhile I have some stuff for you to look at.
You can see all of my currently available writing at my writing website. Feel free to share my link with your homies.
I also have some non fiction sex writing that's going to be published soon.
Kindle users. You can get this here shiny blog on your kindle here. AND now you can get my writing specific blog via kindle as well. MORE SHANNON on the go.
As always if you want sexytimes or any other kind of advice you can go right here and ask me anything you want to know.
Yes, even you trolls go on ahead and get your troll on if you have to.
Everyone else I love you my homies and haters. I truly do.