Yesterday, I blacked out in a crowd of several hundred wearing nothing but a tiny striped sailor shirt and a pair of shorts with an inseam that definitely reached my cervix, and nobody sexually assaulted me. In fact, me and my bicycle were more or less crowd surfed over the safety barrier to the nearest cop, an old white dude sporting the mysteriously unstylish haircut of a lesser Backstreet Boy. He cradled me in one arm while pulling my bike with the other. After we took a few steps away from the crowd, I could peel my sweaty head off his shoulder; he set me down and half carried, half led me to the medical tent on Halsted and Belmont, where I sat down and drank a red Gatorade on a cot across from two wild-eyed middle-aged women the blonde of fried eggs who took turns mouthing things behind the attendant's back, while a dude in handcuffs sat glumly outside the tent in the sun.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
I don't really know shit about policy or statistics. I know stories, and my own experience, and the experience of every woman I have ever spoken to in my life. I do know that a lot of people are really eager to say Elliot was mentally ill and/or a twisted, bad misogynist, which makes me mad for two reasons. Mental illness, while a huge problem in this country, does not let misogyny and poor gun control off the hook; and you don't have to kill a woman to hurt a woman.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Things I am good at:
Crying in the work bathroom
Asking personal questions
Always smelling a little bit like vagina
Not saying the r word
Worrying what other people think of my sexual choices
Riding my bike
Going to Home Depot
Going to Trader Joe’s
Generalized anxiety disorders
Being a Virgo
Asking the sweet-faced doctor if, as she pulls out my IUD, my friend can come in the room and watch
Wondering if everyone is hanging out without me
Wearing little almost-training bras in a weird but not sexually inappropriate way
Watching Soul Train
Making myself at home
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Another morning I woke earlier than normal because I had to take the bus to Madison, so when I came around the curve of Archer Ave to run underneath the long overpass between Halsted and Canal, it wasn’t yet six. I passed by fire after fire in the dark, set back from the sidewalk and the fly of cars, surrounded by blue shadows shaped like men. They were talking to each other in low voices but I didn't stop to listen, even though I wanted to, because these are private spaces and eavesdropping is rude.
Monday, January 13, 2014
The last time I went on a date it was mid September. I took the bus down Western to take another bus so I could make it to a Brain Frame event in the Co-Prosperity Sphere. I want to say here that I resent things with names that mean nothing but hint at peace and wellness, but I was trying to be Well Behaved because I was On A Date, so I didn’t make fun of the CS. Before arriving at the Sphere, my date and I met over at Maria’s. The gentlemen in question was very nice, although rather pallid, and we were really close to understanding each other’s sense of humor, so I’d say it was a fine and reasonable date. On our walk from Maria’s to the Sphere, I only noticed his lisp once or twice.
Friday, December 27, 2013
I'm riding the 355 back to Chicago on Christmas night and everyone on the cafe car is shaped like an ornament. The exception is the gentleman wearing the purple cammo bandana and a mustache like a stain of chocolate milk if chocolate milk was made of pubic hair. He looks a lot like Pornstache from Orange is the New Black so I automatically want to push him off the train.
Monday, November 18, 2013
|Look, it's me! Courtesy of http://www.patmoriarity.com.|
These sounds are a very comforting and familiar thing to hear, reminding me as they do of my own childhood, when I would wake up on my own at about 6:30 or so to tiptoe down the stairs in the winter dark. I’d watch watch Ms. Frizzle or The Weather Channel, which I loved, and my dad would make oatmeal with a lot of brown sugar and then the sun would rise and we’d all go to school. Now I’m an adult and I wake up at 5:30 to write and to try to home-remedy away a physical manifestation of my emotional duress.
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