November 21, 2016
I’ve been wanting comfort food, well, all week, to be perfectly honest. And then I stepped off the subway tonight into the first snowfall of the year.
Climate change doesn’t quite have us yet, I told myself.
I have one pork chop, and I just dredge it in flour, salt, and pepper like I usually do, along with the whole rest of a bottle of oregano I’ve been trying to use up, and pan fry it in a little butter and a dash of olive oil. (The mother of one of my college roommates was the person who I first saw use butter and olive oil together for really good pan frying.)
With the pork chop done, I deglazed the pan with a dash of (really cheap) white wine, and when it mostly quit bubbling, just poured the result over the pork chop. (There’s probably a cooking term for what I did wrong there, but I don’t know what it is.) I added some more butter to the pan (I don’t know how much, sorry. Some more), and cooked about half a sliced plain yellow onion and half a thinly sliced pear in the butter and browned bits, with some crushed dried rosemary, and about two dashes of cinnamon, until it was all soft and slightly caramelized.
And ate the whole mess with a glass of the cheap wine and some Doctor Who, whose writing quality has really recovered well in season 9.
(I forgot to take a picture of the food like a proper blogger or a Millennial, but it tasted prettier than it looked.)
“The Zygon Inversion” feels particularly important this week.
10/10 stars, would recommend.
November 10, 2016
This is to anyone who has ever, ever said to me “You could rule the world if you really wanted to!” who voted for or in any way enabled what happened this week.
I am pretty sure that this statement has never meant anything but a combination of “I have no actual clue either how the political world works, or who you really are,” and “I just want you to fix everything for me without me having to take seriously a single thing you say.”
And I am tired of your excuses and I am tired of you not taking responsibility for your world, and no, I cannot help you now.
Likewise, I never want to be told, ever again, “But you’re the smartest person I know!” or “You’re the most articulate person I know!” by anyone who is not prepared to listen to anything I have to say in the slightest regard.
You already know what I think. I’ve been saying it on loop since I was a child. Justice matters. Bigotry is wrong. It did not make a difference.
Now you have to make it right, because I tried.
I also can’t protect you from the emotional consequences of your choices. There’s something I’ve realized I do a lot, which is reassuring people that everything’s really all okay after they’ve screwed up and wasted my time or caused me a lot of hurt or extra work. And I can’t do that right now.
I can’t pretend not to be upset right now. I’m not going to pretend to you that it’s all okay. It’s not okay. It’s really bad, and I can’t tell you it’s not.
Now you’re baffled at the vitriol and the anger you’re seeing in your social media? Now you’re sad at the divisiveness?
You chose this. When you voted for a candidate relying on a rhetoric of violence against women, of open persecution of religious minorities, of expanding blatantly racist policing practices, of undoing hard-won civil rights protections for queer people, you chose this. We told you exactly what it was going to mean to the marginalized people in your life whose welfare you claim to care about if you voted for this man, and in full knowledge, you still did it. So you chose this.
You do not now get to expect us not to be upset. Your choices have had consequences. You don’t get to expect that I will hide those consequences from you. If you helped this happen, I have no comfort to give you. It is all going to people who are going to need it more.
This isn’t me giving up; this is me deciding to put my effort where I actually think it can do any material good. I’d already given some thought to it even before election day. First, I have a book to finish editing. It’ll be out this month. Then what I am going to do is figure out how I can best financially, concretely support the people who I know are about to be failed really hard by social safety nets and by the communities who apparently can’t quite decide whether some of us are fully human or full citizens or what, in surviving this.
This isn’t to make you worry about me. I always get through.
But you broke this, and now you get to fix it. I have other shit to do.
November 1, 2016
It’s Autistics Speaking Day, and I didn’t write anything, not only because my writing-on-command abilities have not been working quite the way I wish they were, but also because I have been proofreading and formatting the first anthology from the Autism Women’s Network, What Every Autistic Girl Wishes Her Parents Knew, which will be out this month (if it kills me. ; )
There are so many lines in this book that it’s been killing me for months not to be able to share or quote publicly yet. Every single author has something important, wise, and necessary to say, and I couldn’t be more thankful to all of them.
Visit the book website to see our teaser video and sign up to be notified on release day!
[Image reads “What Every Autistic Girl Wishes Her Parents Knew” and depicts three girls drawn in cartoon style: One has blonde hair and blue eyes, wears a gray shirt and a bow tie and is using a cane. One has brown skin, black hair, and green eyes, wears a blue shirt, and is sitting in a wheelchair. One has olive skin, brown hair, and brown eyes, wears a pink dress, and waves at the audience.]
Art by Haley Moss, editing/design by Erin Human.