la violette pensée

taleth: There is no such thing as “I want to be a girl”, it’s “I already am, the problem is that...

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:54:35 -0400

There is no such thing as “I want to be a girl”, it’s “I already am, the problem is that literally everybody around me refuses to accept or acknowledge that I am one because of utterly ridiculous constraints they have placed upon that socially constructed category.”

In a power outage

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:44:56 -0400

thekitchenwitchisin:

It’s good to be a witch in a power outage, because if there’s one thing I have a crap ton of, its candles.

Oh, and wine.

Because this is the only way to ride out a power outage:

Yes. A thousand times, yes!

Photo

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:44:06 -0400

"…as I was walking through the bus station an interfering busybody asked me why I needed a cane, at..."

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:41:48 -0400

“…as I was walking through the bus station an interfering busybody asked me why I needed a cane, at my age. ‘It was a car accident,’ I said, which usually shuts people up, but not her.
‘You shouldn’t use it, you should try to manage without it. It’s obvious you don’t really need it.’
I just walked on and ignored her, but I was shaking. It might seem as if I don’t need it, walking along on flat ground, but I need it if I have to stand still, and I really need it for stairs and broken ground, and I never know from one minute to another if I’m going to be the way I am today or the way I was yesterday, when I could barely put any weight on my leg at all.
‘See, you’re walking really fast now, you don’t need it at all,’ she called after me.
I stopped and turned around. I could feel my cheeks burning. The bus station was full of people. ‘Nobody would pretend to be a cripple! Nobody would use a stick they didn’t need! You should be ashamed of yourself for thinking that I would. If I could walk without it I’d break it in half across your back and run off singing. You have no right to talk to me like that, to talk to anyone like that. Who made you queen of the world when I wasn’t looking? Why do you imagine I would go out with a stick I don’t need—to try to steal your sympathy? I don’t want your sympathy, that’s the last thing I want. I just want to mind my own business, which is what you should have been doing.’”

- Jo Walton, Among Others (via se-smith)

When I first started using my cane, an anon asked me why I deserved it. Not even why I needed it, but why I deserved it.

(via alexandraerin)

This happened to me last Saturday night.

Several years ago, when I was on a weekend trip to Washington, DC, with my wife to see Bebel Gilberto play, we spent a day walking around the Mall, checking out the museums. I’ve never really talked about this before, but the bones in my legs are crooked. Rather, not the bones themselves, but the way my joints connect together is a little wonky.

Because of this, when I was about 8 years old, I was presented with a choice by my orthopod: he could either cut open my legs from hip to ankle and re-set my bones, or I could wear corrective shoes for a few years, and hopefully that would sort of straighten things out.

Let me reiterate that I was 8 years old.

Exactly what kind of question is that to pose to an 8 year old? Of course I chose the corrective shoes. It was a real pain in the ass that I could wear sneakers for several years, but eventually, I didn’t have to wear the shoes, anymore.

But, my joints are still a little wonky, and its very easy for me to twist an ankle while running, and my right hip sometimes “goes out”, and walking causes me intense pain. Unfortunately, there is absolutely no rhyme or reason as to when my hip is going to decide to do this, so of course, on that day in DC, my hip decided it was going on strike. I gamely limped around in pretty bad pain for the rest of the afternoon and the next day. At the end of that trip, I resolved to buy a cane. I was maybe 35 years old, at the time.

Being fairly style conscious, I selected a Cold Steel City Stick, which I’d been eyeing for some time. I don’t carry it every day, but when I need it, I use it. Since my transition and move west to an unfamiliar city, I’ve discovered that I no longer feel safe walking alone at night, so now I also use my City Stick to keep me company, because the idea of using that to defend myself seems like a better idea than using the knife I am always carrying. It’s made out of 11 layers of unbreakable fiberglass with a solid stainless steel head. It is very specifically made for bashing the fuck out of people who decide you look like an easy target, and it also happens to make a very stylish, very functional cane. Its black and polished steel colouring means it goes with just about any outfit, from jeans to an evening gown.

Last Saturday, I somehow managed to twist my knee vacuuming the carpeting. Later on that night, at about 11 pm, I discovered that I’d left my credit card at a local bar, and since I was planning on going out on Sunday morning, I needed to go pick it up. My knee was hurting, and I was going out by myself late at night, I of course took my cane. I’m very glad I did, since I ended up walking all the way home at 2 AM.

While I was leaving the bar, I was accosted by some fuckwad on the street who decided it was his duty to inform me that I didn’t really need a cane. I guess I wasn’t walking with enough of a limp for him. I seriously thought for about half a second about showing him exactly what the cane was “really” for, but I just gave him the most disdainful glare I could muster, saying nothing, and then continued on my way, with his taunts receding behind me.

What kind of person worries so much that someone might fake being injured that they would even think to examine a passing stranger, evaluate their ability to walk, and then attack them when they fail to meet some arbitrary standard?

By the way, did I mention that I’m *still* not fully healed from the nasty crash I took on my skates about two months ago? Who the fuck are *you* to tell me I don’t need a cane? Fuck you, asshole. Worry about your own shit, you privileged worm.

"Probably no man has ever troubled to imagine how strange his life would appear to himself if it were..."

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:09:17 -0400

“Probably no man has ever troubled to imagine how strange his life would appear to himself if it were unrelentingly assessed in terms of his maleness … If he gave an interview to a reporter, or performed any unusual exploit, he would find it recorded in such terms as these: “Professor Bract, although a distinguished botanist, is not in any way an unmanly man. He has, in fact, a wife and seven children. Tall and burly, the hands with which he handles his delicate specimens are as gnarled and powerful as those of a Canadian lumberjack, and when I swilled beer with him in his laboratory, he bawled his conclusions at me in a strong, gruff voice that implemented the promise of his swaggering moustache.” […]”

- From seanan_mcguire’s posting on Sexism, the current SFWA kerfuffle, and “lady authors:” in the comments, via jenk, a long lovely passage from Dorothy L. Sayers’ 1947 essay, “The Human-Not-Quite-Human”. Read the whole thing. The perception of this problem is nothing new… (via dduane)

I love me some Dorothy L. Sayers.

(via sarahreesbrennan)

Peopke think I am that dude, until I speak.

(via impossibletospell)

i have the opposite effect on folks :p

good quote tho

(via zeroambit)

"You were always so scared, even when you were being brave. How could I be mad at you for being so..."

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:08:14 -0400

“You were always so scared, even when you were being brave. How could I be mad at you for being so scared?! Every time you didn’t show up, I knew it was because you were just too scared and I never held it against you. There’s so much to be scared of in the world. All my friends are all terrified. All the time. My friends are afraid of being around other people. They’re afraid of being alone. My friends are scared to go to the store. My friends are scared that men are going to run them over on purpose. They’re scared to ride the bus. They’re scared everyone’s going to find out how to scare them and then scare them on purpose. I keep thinking about how scared you must have been. You left the house by yourself at night. Anyone who doesn’t understand how scary that is will never understand you or me or us.”

- -Red Durken on the death of Donna Ostrovsky - and the fear that trans women live with. (via sheknowshowtofly)

rest in peace, rest in power to our sister.

(via b8-n-cstr8)

Ananiujiþa: E3 - Impressions

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:06:27 -0400

Ananiujiþa: E3 - Impressions:

heirofmedusa:

autumn-sacura:

E3 was great! Just look at all brand new games they give us!

Just look at protagonists! Isn’t it great, how modern technologies let developers create so many different characters?! Just look at divercity of facial hair! Or how many hues of dark…

WAIT. WHAT. FAN CREATED LESBIAN ROMANCE ADVENTURES FOR NWN2?

URL OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN.

Photo

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 04:04:37 -0400

Srsly, tho, which Disney Princesses were High Queen at the end of the story, hmm? :crickets: #Eilonwy

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 03:56:00 -0400

What, “Golden Pelydryn” wasn’t a cool enough...

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 03:49:16 -0400

What, “Golden Pelydryn” wasn’t a cool enough name?!

STILL NO EILONWY?

FSCK YOU.

Photo

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 03:46:09 -0400

Our work begins here.

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 03:34:00 -0400

I want to say that I hope Donna is in a better place, now, because isn’t that what we feel like we should say? Isn’t that what we’re taught to say? Isn’t it kinder to say that our friend has been gathered home to the embrace of the Goddess and lives in light and peace?

But, if I said such things, I would be lying—to you, and to myself, as well—for I do not believe in such things. Some people might find this horrifying, but for me it is all the more reason to treasure this brief, messy, brutal, mortal life, knowing that nothing lies beyond to compensate us for the harms we must endure. It compels me to struggle as hard as I can against odds that sometimes seem impossible to overcome, so that someday we can all live free of the pain this world seems to feel a duty to inflict upon trans women for living the simple truth of who we are.

This is the call we must answer. The time to act is now, not someday. Someday may never come for any one of us, at any moment. For all I know, these could be the last words I ever write; stranger things have happened. Donna’s death is a tragedy that need not have happened, and though she will not be the last, every day, every moment that we delay in honoring the humanity of trans women as a society is another day that we will continue to hear the terrible news of the loss of another brilliant light in our community, and another. The sounding of the knell must stop. Our work begins here.

May the light of the Goddess shine ever upon your path, and may you dwell in happiness all the days of your life.

A Letter to Jill Sobule

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 03:32:20 -0400

Dear Jill Sobule,

Having read the open letter to you from Rude Mechanical Orchestra, I am inspired to finally put together some coherent thoughts about the fact that you played the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival in 2011, while I was one of a very small number of trans women who just down the road were attending Camp Trans, the long-running protest event that seeks the welcome of trans women at Fest, and that you plan to perform there again this year. I know that you probably have no idea at all whom I am, or the harassment that I have suffered for simply having driven past the Land.

I am myself a recording and performing musician, and I am one of your fans. I have been ever since I saw the video for “I Kissed a Girl” on television a long, long time ago. That video and that song struck a chord in my heart. At the time, I was walking a strange path in my life, as a lesbian trans woman who had not yet realised her need and ability to transition, and was involved in what appeared to everyone to be a bog standard heterosexual relationship. It was things like your music that reminded me who I really am.

I had the honour of attending your performance at the Tin Angel in Philadelphia some years ago, where I heard you perform some of the music you have written, music which has at times in my life quite literally saved my life, saved me from killing myself. There are nights when I have lain on my back in the freezing cold, looking up at the stars, and listening to “Somewhere in New Mexico” crying uncontrollably, longing to be taken home, begging the Goddess to gather her wayward daughter home to her bosom. Those nights are some of the darkest in my life, but in catharsis they allowed me a chance to let go of my grief at least temporarily and carry on another day.

I’m sure you understand that the policy of MWMF which excludes women like myself from being welcomed openly at Fest has created a great division in the community of women—in *our* community of women. I would like to think that perhaps you have even read some of my own responses to Lisa Vogel’s recent public statements which have reaffirmed her intention to continue this exclusionary policy, despite the growing tide of public opinion which opposes it.

Women of all experiences have been calling for 20 years and more for this policy to end. I am asking you to support us. I am asking you to use your influence as a beloved artist in our community to stand up for the rights of all women, not only the majority.

It breaks my heart to say this, because of the love I hold for your work and its meaning to me, but until and unless you support the full welcome of trans women at MWMF, until you honour our struggle to be heard, to be accepted as members in full of the community of women, until and unless you stand in unity with us, I can no longer support you. I cannot in good conscience support someone who uses her life to empower only those who would prefer that I depart this mortal life.

Sincerely,

Gemma Seymour-Amper

Today is, so far as I can recall, the first time I have been...

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 21:53:54 -0400

Today is, so far as I can recall, the first time I have been informed of the death of someone with whom I was friends on Facebook.

The news trickled in slowly today, via cryptic posts that named a name. I didn’t want to ask, because there was only one I knew who matched the description, but having asked, I found out that my fears were not misplaced. A friend is gone from us, a friend whose voice should not be forgotten.

I wish I could say with certainty that someone will not be making a similar post about me, one day, but the fact is, our lives are often painfully short, and too painful to bear. I want you to remember this, to remember that we deserve to live, to be happy, to be free, as much as any person ever has or ever will deserved such a thing.

I want you to remember this, because in this world, people like me, women like me, are turned away from many doors, from many hearts, from far too many options. I want to scream, “Let my friend be the last!” But, I know that this wish will not come true. There will be others. And I fear that I may one day be among them. I have already come terrifyingly close on more than one occasion.

I met Donna on a sunny day in October 2011 at a picnic in Prospect Park, on a day when a score and more of women like me came together in sisterhood to celebrate just being. I will remember her in the sun, warmly, always…

thespiritwas: Donna Ostrowsky reading “The Queer Experiment”...

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 21:18:06 -0400

thespiritwas:

Donna Ostrowsky reading “The Queer Experiment” from Topside Press’ THE COLLECTION at Barnard College.

Today I learned my friend the prolific & brilliant Donna Ostrowsky passed away yesteray. We were going to see each other tomorrow. NYC has lost another brilliant trans woman. Rest in Power Donna.

CBrennan being kicked out of Bar Wotever in London.You of all...

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 19:35:00 -0400

CBrennan being kicked out of Bar Wotever in London.

You of all people should respect the boundaries of others. You weren’t kicked out because you are lesbian, you were kicked out because no one likes you, and you have made such a nuisance of yourself that everyone in the LGBT community around the world knows who you are on sight and wants nothing to do with you.

Bar Wotever is just as much a private establishment as the Michigan Women’s Music Festival. You can’t have it both ways.

FWIW, I don’t think you should have been asked to leave, as distasteful as you have chosen to be, because unlike you, I recognise that a public accommodation is a public accommodation, and I don’t need hypocrisy to protect me. In fact, I’d probably have bought you a drink just because I’m a generous person, even with those with whom I patently disagree.

spells-of-life: Baba yaga: In Russian folklore there are many...

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 01:35:16 -0400

spells-of-life:

Baba yaga: In Russian folklore there are many stories of Baba Yaga, the fearsome witch with iron teeth. Whenever she appears on the scene, a wild wind begins to blow, the trees around creak and groan and leaves whirl through the air. Shrieking and wailing, a host of spirits often accompany her on her way …

I don’t think there is anyone who scares me more than Baba Yaga.

queerbookclub: “Tonight for the first time, trans authors are accepting the award for transgender...

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 01:33:33 -0400

queerbookclub:

“Tonight for the first time, trans authors are accepting the award for transgender fiction” @iphisol #lammys

— Tom Léger (@tomleger)

June 3, 2013

Can’t believe I missed this tweet earlier. Quote from Imogen Binnie at the Lambda Literary Awards.

Photo

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 00:52:23 -0400

Did I mention the hat? I found this one on Saturday at Ross, for...

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 00:46:00 -0400

Did I mention the hat? I found this one on Saturday at Ross, for $12. It’s perfect!