Being Amber Rhea

Here’s a list of What I Think about some recent and not-so-recent happenings, designed to illustrate the fact that very few issues are cut and dry, and context matters. To some I might look like a big ol’ contradiction with all this. I’m okay with that.

White progressive bloggers Photoshopping blackface on politicians and claiming it’s satire or “ironic” - Not cool. Totally agree w/ Liza Sabater and many other bloggers who pointed out that, hey, white dude, you don’t get to be the arbiter of what is and isn’t racist. And the more you try to defend your shit with “It’s satire!” the more of an ass you sound like - especially when you go on to tell a woman of color not to “assail [her] betters.” I remember how shocked I was with T-Rex’s behavior when all this went down. Big ol’ FAIL stamp, except, sadly, I didn’t have one of those two years ago.

New Yorker cover - I feel the opposite of above, although I do understand and appreciate the same sentiment at work. I think it is a good example of actual satire; and after all, this is the New Yorker, not the New York Post. Overall, I lean toward Jon Stewart’s “It’s just a fucking cartoon!” but I want to be very very careful about that, because I don’t think “It’s just _____” is or should be a justification for anything. Just look at this, for a particularly timely and unfortunate example. Also, it’s the same kind of rhetoric assholes of various Republicanish-leaning stripes use against progressives, especially feminists: the old “no sense of humor” trope. Hi, here’s a thought: maybe it’s not that we don’t have a sense of humor, maybe it’s that your jokes aren’t funny.

The stripper cartoon referenced in the above graf - I don’t think it’s racist. I’m trying to just chill out and appreciate where/how some other folks whom I respect do think that, but I admit to feeling a little exasperated with it. But, I don’t think I have to say there’s about a million things wrong with that cartoon anyway. I just wonder why the focus has to shift away from the obvious central message, which is that strippers are too stupid and deluded to make their own decisions and it doesn’t matter what they think anyway.

Toby Keith lyrics (not satire) - This hadn’t even been on my radar; let’s just say I’ve had more pressing things to deal with. Then I saw Griftdrift had a post about it. I didn’t read the Huffington Post article because I didn’t care enough; I did go read the lyrics to the song out of curiosity, though. At Manuel’s I was telling Griftdrift that I can see how you could interpret the lyrics as being about racist lynching, and he started to get all up in my face about it (right after I’d told that story about the guy on the plane who could’ve been in first class but ended up in jail, with his name on the no-fly list!) but I kept talking so I could finish my sentence, which was something like, “But it’s pretty flimsy.” I definitely agree about self-identified progressives having preconceived notions about the South, and being big fat fucking hypocrites. Anyway, about the song, mostly I don’t care. It’s Toby Keith for fuck’s sake.

Cliff Bostock’s column about political correctness and a 1967 essay that uses the N-word - I agree with Cliff’s main point that flying off the handle about any usage of the N-word without considering context is a bit much. I think there are some good points to be made here, but he weakens his entire argument by resorting to the “lack a sense of humor” thing. Come on, Cliff, you can do better than that. Why go for the low-hanging (not to mention totally irrelevant) fruit?

John Kerry says “tar baby” (and Tony Snow said it a while back, too; also not satire) - Not racist. Sorry, sticking to that one (oh, ha!). I get that the term “tar baby” has also been used as a racial slur. But that’s not the case here. Here’s what it actually means. And I hate that saying this lumps me in with people like Daily Kos denizens (or Firedoglake!), but there you go.

—

Consider this yet another attempt at writing as if no one is reading. I’m nervous about hitting Publish, but I might as well get some practice in. And besides, as Joseph reminded me via email today (thanks, Joseph!) it’s not like I haven’t dealt with a whole hell of a lot of shit on my blog already.

*sigh* Oh well.

So I know that last post of mine wasn’t very “fair.” Part of me feels bad but part of me just can’t get too worked up about it.

I just feel like in BlogLand recently (well, and not so recently, too), there’s a lot of “group think” and generalizations going on, and if you don’t fall in lock-step, then you’re out of the Cool Kids Club.

There are some situations where generalizations are helpful, instructive, and necessary. I think making a blanket statement of “no blanket statements” is just as ignorant as, well, most blanket statements! Because sometimes it’s appropriate. But I think that’s the exception rather than the rule. And I get the impression that a lot of bloggers who move in some of the same circles I do kind of blog with an iron fist.

It’s hard to write about this, too, because I’m afraid I’ll end up sounding like those whiny assholes who come to feminist blogs and go, “Not all men are [x]!” YES, we know, thanks for making it all about you YET AGAIN, now please to be shutting your dumb mouth.

I’m not a patient person in general, BUT, with friends and on a one-on-one basis, I can be very patient. See, nuance. What might look like a contradiction to the casual observer is actually just the fact of nuance and complexity that we all have within us. And I think a lot of what is missing from some of this blog drama (which I’ve mostly just been observing and shaking my head at, rather than getting involved in, as I know I wouldn’t be welcome anyway) is nuance. Context. Because guess what, context matters. A lot of things have to be taken on a case by case basis.

Like I said at Trinity’s, wrt porn and such: (as usual, double blockquotes are me quoting someone else)

So uh, “men ask women to do Those Things” is true, but not really worth getting furious at people for, to me. Again, even if that’s sexist: mosquito bite. Not worth my worry.

It seems to me that a lot of the time, the asking is set up as a bad thing. And I’ve never really grokked that. Because what always comes to my mind is, “So, one partner is communicating with the other partner about hir sexual desires.” What’s bad about that?? It’s a GOOD thing to be able to tell your partner, openly and with no shame, “[x] turns me on” or “I’d really love to try [y].” The part where good or bad comes into play, I think, is what happens next - and even that is a lot more complex and nuanced than a lot of these scripts make it out to be.

It’s not enough to just say “[x] is wrong.” [x] doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and all the internal and external factors surrounding it have to be parsed in order to get an accurate understanding.

And yet, with all that said? Yeah, there are still plenty of times when the motivation, intent, etc. doesn’t matter AT ALL; what matters is the resultant action. But again: nuance! None of this applies across the board!

I’m having a hard time trying to explain this but I don’t actually think it’s that hard of a concept to grasp, mentally, without words.

Next thing I want to write about: the fallacy of assuming that just because someone’s poor, it gives them special insight into, well, everything. There’s a term for that but I can’t remember what it is.

There are few people inhabiting certain corners of the blogosphere in which I move who (whom?) I find to be bullies and/or “queen bee” types. To name names would certainly bring the Wrath of the Goddesses upon my head - so I’ll be willfully obtuse and arguably passive-aggressive instead. But eventually my annoyance might boil over; so consider this a forewarning.

Also, tag links aren’t working now that I’ve upgraded to WordPress 2.5.1. Boooo.

ETA: Bumped up from comments:

I realize this post was not very fair of me. *shrug* I’ve just been feeling annoyed, and I guess I felt some compulsion to put some evidence of my annoyance “out there” - even if in a way that raises questions (and eyebrows) and puts people on the defensive.

So yeah, like I said, not very fair of me. And yet I felt like I “needed” to do it. Sometimes I can be weird. :P

Yesterday in Athens, Rusty and I found this on a table in the Barnes and Noble Cafe. It was laying face up, like so:

Clearly we took the bait. I said, “Oh boy, it’s our lucky day - a million dollars!” and picked it up to look it over. On the reverse side was this:

Click through to Flickr to view the larger version, but if you can’t read what’s written around the sides, here’s what it says:

The million-dollar question: Will you go to Heaven? Here’s a quick test. Have you ever told a lie, stolen anything, or used God’s name in vain? Jesus said, “Whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Have you looked with lust? Will you be guilty on Judgment Day? If you have done those things, God sees you as a lying, thieving, blasphemous, adulterer-at-heart. The Bible warns that if you are guilty you will end up in Hell. That’s not God’s will. He sent His Son to suffer and die on the cross for you. Jesus took your punishment upon himself: “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” Then He rose from the dead and defeated death. Please, repent (turn from sin) today and trust in Jesus, and God will grant you everlasting life. Then read your Bible daily and obey it.   www.livingwaters.com

My favorite part is the definition of “repent” included in parentheses.

I’m supposed to be working on my as-yet-nonexistent AlterNet piece, but instead I’m sitting here typing this. I know I’m making it out to be a way bigger deal than it is. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not as if I’m all like, “Ooh, AlterNet, big-time internet publication, wowee, zowee, I’d be famous and stuff!” I don’t know if I was ever that particular brand of naive. But for some reason I got a bug up my ass and decided I wanted to try and write something about feminist choices, and how to define them, for a broader audience (insert questionable joke here: “…not just an audience of broads - ha ha ha!!1!”) So I emailed Jill, who is awesome and who also happens to be an AlterNet editor, and asked if they’d be interested; and she said yes, and I said I’d send her something in a few days.

But I’m stressed out about it the way that having a column in my high school newspaper stressed me out. It seemed like a good idea in theory, but when I had to actually get down to it and write something, it was like pulling teeth with myself. I think I ended up only writing two actual columns senior year, and they were both pretty contrived.

And yet I could go home and write ’til my wrist was cramped (and it took at lot more to do that back in the late 90s!) in my journal, scrawl poetry of various levels of emo-ness in my notebooks, type long rambling paragraphs of Opinion in a SimpleText file I kept on my Mac desktop; when I was younger than that, in elementary school, I could fill notebook upon notebook with stories and even what could arguably be called novels (at my parents’ house there are stacks of boxes labeled “Amber’s books she wrote”); and before I could actually write, I was dictating stories to my grandmother at age four.

I guess it’s that I don’t like feeling like I have to follow rules imposed by others? (And yet I’m a stickler for grammar! Ah, I am nothing if not self-contradictory. [I mean, just look at my fondness for parentheses!])

Hence the “I speak my own language” tag you see employed here frequently.

When I was in 4th grade, I won a creative writing contest and they wrote a little blurb about it in the local newspaper. I was quoted as saying, “When I grow up, I want to be a famous author.” It was cute at the time, because I was nine.

…

I don’t want to have to recant on Jill but I think I might. I think maybe this just isn’t the write right (ha, typo!) time for me to try to write something for somewhere other than my blog. I’m sure I’ll try again one day and it’ll come a lot more naturally.

For example, it came pretty naturally with the (never published) op-ed I wrote for the AJC - although I won’t lie, I spent an entire afternoon agonizing about every word and phrase, wanting to get everything right. But the result was, I think I did a bang-up job! Too bad the AJC, apparently, did not agree, but my feelings weren’t hurt; I wasn’t surprised, after all.

…

Tonight I read this post by Melissa, and it brought tears to my eyes. Silly, right? Well, I’ve always been highly emotional and sensitive, so that’s how it goes with me. No making fun.

I’m not sure what, exactly, about the post struck such a deep chord with me - but something obviously did.

I don’t care (that’s a lie; I do care, in spite of the other half of my brain telling me not to - I just try to pretend I don’t [fake it 'til you make it, right?]) what anybody else says; I think there is value in “life-blogging,” living your life online, whatever you want to call it. I might not be able to articulate exactly what that value is, but maybe that’s simply because there aren’t words for some things. But I feel it intuitively, which is how I experience a lot of things… it’s not popular and won’t get people to really believe you, and it sounds like a lot of hippie shit (note the tag), and yet that’s another characteristic I’ve always had: there are things I “just know,” even if I can’t say why.

This kind of writing - and thus blogging - comes naturally to me. The introspection is a huge part, definitely; introspection is kind of a thing of mine, and I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. I am an INFJ to the core. As a side note - this is why it bothers me SO MUCH when, on threads like the latest pushing-200-comments installation at Feministe, people are so free w/ their assumptions that if you haven’t come to the same conclusions as them, then you must not have examined properly. So go, forthwith, and examine your desires! Because obviously you haven’t, otherwise you would realize how bad and wrong they are, and you would sublimate, sublimate dammit! because it’s the right thing to do, otherwise you’re just pleasing the Patriarchy, because that’s all it can ever be about, really; it can’t be about you.

But back to Melissa’s post. -Well, hmm, what do I want to say about Melissa’s post? Actually, I don’t know; but it got me started typing all this.

More to come, perhaps. I think I need to send Jill an email now and apologize for wasting her time.

Hitting “Publish” now.

Or really, of the month.

Since he’ll be driving the truck I need him to be the body double for the bomber. And wear the mullet wig lol

From Miss Debris Blanche.

I don’t know what the deal is with me lately. Why does it feel like I have less free time for blogging, even though I know I have more since Sex 2.0 is over? Yes, it’s true work has been busy - but work is usually busy. And I don’t really like blogging from work anyway; I like working at work, and I hate having no actual work to do. So what is my deal?
Read the full post »

As I said here (complete w/ typos and everything), we need to have blogging parties at Manuel’s.

Don’t know about the rest of y’all, but I would like that.

That reminds me of the Friday of WAM, when I was already at the hotel and Dacia (ha, I linked her!) was en route, and we were frantically texting each other about god knows what, and she texted, “Dude, we so need to have a blogging party in the hotel room tonight!”

It’s good to be with people who understand you.

Oh, and listen to the latest Mostly ITP if you haven’t yet. And leave us a voicemail… let’s get participatory, indeed!

…and it’s on clearance!

(Texted to me from Miss Debris Blanche.)

This is just too bizarre not to share.

This morning on the way to work, I stopped to get gas. So I’m standing there pumping gas, and a Honda Element rolls up, stops, and a guy sticks his head out the window. I’m wondering, “Oh, geez, what stupid sexist thing is he going to yell?” and thinking how apt Jenny’s post was.

But then the guy yells, “Hey! You know what happens if we elect Barack Obama?” I’m so stunned that I can’t resist yelling back, “What?”

“It’s an Obama-nation!” he says triumphantly, and drives off.

I rolled my eyes dramatically but then realized I was wearing sunglasses, and anyway he hadn’t bothered to stick around for my reaction.

But, WTF? I don’t have an Obama sticker on my car. I forgot to wear my “I Love Obama” 10-gallon hat today. So what made this dude stop and yell this joke (I use the word loosely) at me? And who yells jokes out of car windows, anyway? Was he just driving along, and suddenly thought of this great joke that blends timely political commentary with linguistic amusement, and just couldn’t keep it to himself?

What a weird way to start the day.

Feministe » Feministe Feedback: Being a Feminist Boyfriend

The discussion here has me thinking about some of the pretty damaging stuff that happened during my marriage, a lot of which I didn’t recognize for what it was until much later. I look back on the times he would “tease” me for, you know, not wanting to live in a filthy house like a damn slob, or accuse me of “nagging”… that stuff was really harmful to me. It makes me so angry, to this day, thinking about how it has affected me.

The “equal partnership” thing is important for the sanity, agency, and self-respect of both partners in a heterosexual relationship. It’s something that takes work, not just lip service. And yet so many guys still fall short, and as women thanks to our socialization, we don’t speak up because god forbid we be perceived as “nags.” Disempowering much?

The Barefoot Bum: Whining and complaining

On a similar note, here’s another word that’s often used to knock down legitimate arguments (especially from women): whining.

The portion I quoted in del.icio.us from the above post sums it up: “What’s the difference between a complaint and a whine? Why is objecting to ‘nappy-headed ho’s’ a legitimate complaint, but objecting to ‘Take out the garbage’ a loser’s whine?”

Boinkology: Sexploitation In Anti-Drug Ads Isn’t Normal… No Wait, It Is.

How fucked up is this ad? There are so many things wrong with it, I hardly know where to begin. I suppose “blaming the victim” would be a reasonable start, though.

Astarte’s Circus: I am a feminist

Octogalore explains why disavowing the label “feminist” is harmful. I agree, and I could ramble on this for days!

But, for now, back to bed with me. I need more Aleve Cold & Sinus. It seems to be helping. (Fingers crossed.) I want to be able to go back to work tomorrow, dammit!

I am not happy with the villifying of Seal Press I’ve seen in the blogosphere recently. No, not happy at all. There, I said it.

I wonder what people expect. And I mean realistic expectations. How would YOU react if you were Brooke and Krista? Seriously?

They are not this big mythical insulated power-house super-corporation. They are people. Just people. Like all the rest of us.

I guess I can relate because people have pulled shit like this with “criticizing” PodCamp Atlanta and Sex 2.0… and it’s like, HEY. This is a one-person operation. (And specific to these two cases, they are unconferences, so if you don’t like what’s going on, fix it instead of just complaining, like the guy who was whining about the sound quality on some of the podcasts.)

Also this irritates me because, well, Seal Press has done a lot for publishing women’s voices. And this is the kind of thing that just… does not sit well with me. It makes me itch.

Okay, that’s all I’ve got for now. I would say more but I’m afraid of people coming over here and trying to rip me a new asshole, and then expecting me to be all gracious about their “criticism.”

Also I am waiting for the BBC to call me back about a radio interview and trying not to freak out. Nerves, be calm! It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have any caffeine this morning. I hope my cell phone doesn’t lose reception when/if they call.

…because I’m too tired* to do anything else. Sometimes cop-outs can work, though.

• As you may have seen if you follow my Twitter updates, I got into a little fender-bender yesterday morning. To be specific, I freakin’ backed into a parked car. :P Oh well… not much damage was done to either vehicle. Mine is getting repaired Thursday, and it costs less than my insurance deductible, so no need for a claim on my part. If the other driver has an issue, my insurance will take care of it. J. put a silver lining on the situation by pointing out that my new car would inevitably get dinged up at some point anyway, so at least I’ve gone ahead and gotten it out of the way - actively!
• We’re going to court Thursday. That’s all I’m going to say right now, but I’ll say more afterward. It should certainly be interesting, one way or another.
• This is also happening on Thursday, and Rusty and I will be there. I’ll need to remember to bring my “I’m Blogging This” T-shirt with me to change into, in case we don’t have time to go home after court. Other ATL bloggers, come on out! It should be a rollicking good time, especially if Susan Capaluto (sp?) shows up. (And is it just me, or does anybody else wonder why the Equifax guy is on the panel? That seems random.)
• On Friday I’m heading to Boston (well, Cambridge) for the Women, Action & the Media conference. The keynote speakers are Helen Thomas and Haifa Zangana. I’m excited! I’ll get to meet some bloggers I’ve read for a while, and Dacia and I will be sharing a hotel room so we can be shut-ins when the socializing gets too overwhelming. And I’m looking forward to Dacia’s session on sex workers and media representation; after the past couple weeks, she should have plenty to talk about! (Not as if she didn’t already!)
• Apparently my site, like a lot of Dreamhost sites, was down for a few hours today. One of these days I’ll actually switch hosts, I swear. Anyway, this means my del.icio.us links didn’t get posted today, which annoys me, because I had some good ones. I’ll probably post them manually tomorrow, but in particular I wanted to point out that this post really resonated with me, and I might have more to say on it later.
• I cross-posted my “Why I Quit Download Squad” treatise on BlogHer.
• Be sure to register for Sex 2.0 by Friday if you want to pay $40 instead of $50! Meanwhile, I will try not to freak out too much between now and April 12.
• I swear I’ll blog about the manicure thing one day. I have lots to say, oh yes. Dacia and I are getting manis and pedis Friday night in Boston. So maybe I’ll blog about it then!

* I’m a naturally sleepy person, but the Lexapro has made me feel downright fatigued. I don’t like that one bit. So this morning I cut the pill in half, and it seemed to help a bit. Hopefully that’ll be the way to go.

Today Rusty and I went to Frolicon… for about an hour.

Last year I was really annoyed that Frolicon was the same weekend as PodCamp NYC, which meant we’d miss it because we already had plans to go to New York. I interviewed Beth, one of the organizers, and she was a total sweetheart. I vowed that we wouldn’t miss Frolicon 2008! (And yet I wrote about it on Radlanta as if I knew what I was talking about.)

But as the day got closer, I was less and less excited about it. I guess after going to more events along similar themes, I had more of an expectation that this wouldn’t be my cup of tea. Really I only went in order to put a stack of Sex 2.0 postcards and condoms on the swag* table. Then I got mad at myself because I didn’t think ahead enough to include that stuff in the swag bags everyone gets at registration; there were postcards in there for Whippersnappers, Swinging Atlanta, SELF, and other groups/events like that. Why didn’t I think of that? I was so pissed.

Still, hopefully some new registrants will come out of the stack on the table. As we were leaving I saw a few people stopping by and looking at stuff. One guy started talking to me about Camille Paglia as I was putting the postcards on the table. That was kind of weird.

So yeah, we only stayed for about an hour, and most of that time was spent paying way too much money for a mediocre buffet lunch. What can I say, fetish/kink/BDSM stuff just doesn’t do it for me. In fact, it kind of irritates me. More power to people who are into it - some of my best friends, etc. This isn’t a slam or judgment on folks who like that stuff. I’m just not one of ‘em. I like fucking. I can’t be bothered with all the costumes and role-playing and master/slave this and foot-worship that and yadda yadda yadda.

Speaking of fucking, we briefly considered going to Trapeze tonight, because a couple who’d commented on our Trapeze review podcast said they were going, and we’re interested in meeting them at some point. But I’m still on the tail-end of the haze while my body chemistry adjusts to Lexapro, plus I’m on my period, so we figured it’s not the best night to go. I wouldn’t be feeling up to it because of the meds, but also that period thing… it’s like one of the last taboos. In Best Sex Writing 2008, Trixie Fontaine writes about her problems with getting credit card billing companies for her period porn site… it’s considered “extreme,” and even though they’ll deal with pretty much anything else you can imagine (and plenty of stuff you can’t), somehow a woman’s period is THE GROSSEST THING EVER. What the hell! Why is it such a big fucking deal?? (That’s a rhetorical question, so don’t bother trying to come up with an answer. THERE ISN’T ONE.) Seriously. If you can’t handle the fact that yes, most women get their period every month, and no, your dick won’t shrivel up and fall off if you fuck her during that time… then just turn in your Sex Card right now, because you don’t deserve it.

Well, I was going to write about how I got a manicure the other day, but I can’t think of a clever transition and this is long enough already. So I’ll write about the manicure thing tomorrow, because it’s likely to spiral off into a tangent about class and expectations and social stratification. Betcha can’t wait!

* I’ve recently learned that the spelling “schwag” refers to marijuana. “Swag” is actually an acronym… “stuff we all get!”

We’re back from our weekend jaunt around various parts of Georgia. We hit more small towns this weekend than I think we ever had prior, in one trip. Only about a third of my photos are on Flickr at the moment, but I’ll post the rest of ‘em soon.

Look at this crazy old jail we saw in Greensboro:

Is it a rule that every state must have a town named Greensboro? Like Springfield?

When there’s something on my mind I’m itching to write about, but can’t at the moment, I distract myself with stupid internet quizzes. Hence:

There it is, folks, everything about me! (Complete with horrid HTML.) Except, about a third of it is wrong… Oh well, that’s still a pretty good ratio for a stupid internet quiz.

I’m in a photo mood lately. Here are some more photos of good times, this time all featuring people (instead of just a shadow). My mom always admonishes me by saying, “Now don’t forget to get pictures of yourself!”
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Sometimes I like to just go back through my Flickr photostream and remember fun and interesting times past. And since I’m nearing 5,000 photos (I’ll never catch up with Josh!) it seems like as good a time as any to post some of my favorites.

So have a look! You can click on each one to go to the Flickr page with more info, because I don’t feel like writing captions for them.
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I’m having another “freaking out” day re: Sex 2.0. I feel light-headed, and I don’t know how much of that is due to stress and how much is due to it being too warm in the office (note to self: go get some water!), but I don’t feel so good.
Read the full post »

Every time I hear the Kid Rock song “Cowboy,” at the part where he says, “Get thrown in the mix and tossed out of bars,” I think, “No, you mean Waffle Houses.”

From Ren:

Every once in awhile I do go out and actually spend time with normal people…so I can remember why I do it so fucking rarely.

It’s because you suck and I hate you.

Ha!

On a totally unrelated note, happy Super Tuesday and Mardi Gras, whichever one’s your poison.

Back to work for me, now. See some of y’alll tonight at Amsterdam… yes, I’m coming out to the primary-watching-party, mainly to socialize rather than actually watch the primary returns. Coincidentally enough, I always have mixed feelings about going to these kinds of events, because I know there will be a lot of “normal people” there; but I’m going tonight because I know several friends will be there. And I will even brave it without Rusty… he’s sick. :(

I didn’t go to the Sex Workers’ Art Show tonight, and that saddened me, a lot. Probably more than it should have. I’m probably being ridiculous and melodramatic.

I laid in bed and wondered what would happen if I just didn’t do anymore work on Sex 2.0 from here on out. That won’t happen, because I couldn’t bear to let the conference fall through and have people hate me; but I did entertain the fantasy.

Tomorrow I need to finish another Download Squad post. I have the notes for it saved as a draft, but so far I haven’t found the inspiration to meld it into actual complete sentences and paragraphs.

I hope that soon I’ll start feeling good again.

Oh, also I’m out of white grape juice. Dammit. (Not that I’m leaving the apartment at this hour… I’m already in my pajamas, and it’s freakin’ cold outside.