The reason that I have moved to Medium is that I cannot make money on WordPress. That will change, because when my ad money reaches the threshold on Medium that it can pay for a professional WordPress account, I will monetize here, too. That’s because a professional WordPress account is only a hundred dollars a year, it’s just not as lucrative for writers as joining Medium. However, I feel differently about it now because @animebirder, @one4paws, @bookerybones, @aaronbrown8cc63b4e5d4, and I all have such unique voices that I either want them on Medium with me, or I want to be here with them. It’s just getting enough ad money to be able to do that in the first place. If you are a Medium subscriber, I make more when you read. Claps are great, but they really don’t pay for anything. What pays is the amount of time you spend on the site.
I am lucky enough to have posted enough to get money this month, which is incredible. I just don’t know how much. That’s because they don’t send you money until you hit a certain threshold, and I almost had enough in August. By October, I’ll have my first real, sustainable income as a writer. I do not want anyone to think of this as a get rich quick scheme, because it is, absolutely…….
One that I could not do if I didn’t have 25 years’ worth of entries already banked.
So, it’s introducing new people to my old work, and introducing new writers that like to talk to each other. We have a group chat that has become an infodump channel, and it’s time to start specializing. That’s because not all of my writers are working for “Stories.” My buddy Evan and I are writing a cookbook. It remains to be seen whether we’ll collaborate online or in person, but either way, we’re writing a book.
The way I see it is that for the next four years, my life is covered as long as I live very simply. That will definitely give me the time to see if a neurodivergent media company is viable. I am learning that I know more than I think I do, because I did not know how boundaries worked. I have constantly treated them like they are others’ guidelines to make. My world has flipped now that I’m in charge of making things happen, and I am lost in the details. The best thing that my mother could have done for me post-mortem is allow me to work on this project, because as of right now, living off of it is the only thing I can do. When the state of MD finds out about the money, I will not have access to Medicaid Expansion or any of the other social services I’ll need to get diagnosed with autism. I diagnosed myself and honestly wouldn’t bother to go to the doctor if it wasn’t helpful to my career. Like, autism diagnoses are so expensive and we’ve all been white knuckling it this long, so why bother?
If I ever have to join another corporate system, I want autistic accommodations because starting a new job without them is setting me up to fail every single time. If you’re a neurodivergent adult who struggles in the system, my guess is that you died inside a little bit at “I have an extensive collection of nametags and hairnets.” Autistic people don’t have problems getting jobs. They have problems keeping them. If you’re autistic, you’re going to excel at government work because they’re going to accommodate you the most. For instance, me being a file clerk or a secretary at Langley was never about working with spies, but getting accepted into a job I could actually do with full government salary and pension. I would love to do menial tasks for CIA because then on my off time, I’d truly be left to my own devices to write. I am also very good at making connections, so I can be just as good a writer overhearing someone’s patois in the mail room as I would being in operations and doing the scary shit myself. The whole point is that my ADHD personality would be thrilled and my autistic personality would want to shoot me. My autistic nature CANNOT handle traveling that much. I am so bad at transitions that I just couldn’t deal. Of course it would be fun to be James Bond, but my body just wants to read about being cool. It doesn’t actually want me to be cool
Right now, everything is in flux as we’re deciding what to do. “Stories” will be rebranded as Gravity’s Rainbow to be more inclusive, but we’re still working on both a full and minimalist logo based on Thomas Pynchon. I want it to represent the energy of a bomb going off inside you. That the arc of every spiritual journey is realizing you are the cause of your own suffering and start to self-actualize.
This space is free, but I hope that one day…. just maybe……
I have addressed this letter as such because I believe that you, like me, have a village. If I write a letter to you, I have written a letter to Jennifer Garner and Matt Damon by proxy. Don’t think I don’t know who’s really running your program. That ex-wife of hers has her head on straight. God, you lucked out. Here’s how I knew it was for life no matter what form your relationship took…. “Jen, you’re the only one I want to do the work with.” You were criticized in the press while your heart was beating outside of your chest in public. You were bleeding out. I saw you. I didn’t know that your relationship with Jen was in trouble, but I do know that people whose relationships are in trouble word things carefully in public. It was the biggest mea culpa I’ve ever seen in my life. You were Taylor Swift before Taylor Swift and everyone missed it because they were so focused on the idea that love should be perfect all the time, in every way.
Sometimes, love is ugly.
“I’m the problem. It’s me.”
I can picture that conversation happening a hundred times in your life as you’ve struggled with addiction (and statistics say bipolar when you quit). You don’t quit addictive behaviors and neurodivergence when you stop drinking. You find other ways to get dopamine besides drinking and using.
In that moment, I felt like you were telling Jen straight up that now your drug was her, and it was healthy because it made you want to be a better man. If that’s not how you meant it, I know it had to be an approximation. This is because I’ve never struggled with alcohol, but I know what it’s like to experience addictive behaviors due to autism and/or Bipolar II (I am concerned at the rate these are mistaken, but I get it because the meltdown/burnout cycle presents exactly like hypomania and depression. So, no matter what form your neurodivergence takes, whether it’s:
Mental Illness Genetics
Neurodivergence Genetics
Self-induced Neurodivergence (the binge/purge relationship you have with dopamine once you become an addict)
PTSD (trauma due to one event)
CPTSD (complex, chronic PTSD like having an abusive childhood, then being sent to war)
…you’re going to be damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
Sometimes, love is being hopelessly addicted to the affections of an addict who cannot return them…. As in, you feel addicted to the high you feel when you are with them, but they disappear when it counts. It is why relationships among all these types of people fall apart early and often. They suck each other into their own little worlds and spin out with codependence as their reality becomes its own. It’s especially toxic when you’re addicted to someone, and you also need to leave them. That happens all too often as well. For instance, none of these people take criticism or compliments well. Their self-esteem has been in the toilet forever due to people not understanding their love language and their communication/attachment styles.
All of this is pointing toward two things. Here is the first:
Sometimes, love is being hopelessly addicted to someone you believe is manipulating you, when they’re just neurodivergent and don’t pick up social cues well; they’re losing the plot faster as the script fades; their social masks have worn out and they’re heading toward burnout. I honestly believe that’s why stars develop a reputation for showing up late. They cannot all be obsessed with themselves. Sometimes, getting up the energy to social mask takes longer than others.
Going off on a tangent, I wonder if that’s why women like taking their time in the bathroom to put on makeup, because it accomplishes two things- giving them a longer transition time toward work in the morning, at the end, a literal social unmasking. It would not be surprising to hear Jonna Mendez say that part of the reason being a spy while female is less dangerous is that they’ve learned more about how to social mask a situation than men ever will. They’ve been taught how to behave since childhood, the rigamarole of finding a man drilled in early.
Some women use those skills for a career in intelligence and forego getting married, because either they’re ace and don’t need to attract anyone on that level, or they’re just not interested in “doing the work with someone.” However, I do not mean that in the classical sense, the way Russia cultivates a culture of seducing men to get what they want. I’m sure it’s very effective, however.
No, what I’m talking about is a woman’s emotional intelligence, because it is often (not always) sharper than a man’s. Their innate biological conditioning makes their pattern recognition of men different than their pattern recognition on behavior in themselves. That’s why there should always be neurodivergence and women at the table. Solving a problem requires all three perspectives for correct analysis of behavior. No one of us will be right, but we’ll all be right together.
That is how it feels to have my processing disorder, AuDHD. Nicknamed “the golden ADHD,” it wins the award for being the most complicated thing on earth. Every decision is damned if you do, damned if you don’t. If something is good for my autism, it drives my ADHD insane. If something is good for my ADHD, my autism will slam on the brakes so hard I will go through the winshield….. and I’m not even lying. Most neurodivergent people are afraid of success because they get overwhelmed easily with fine amounts of detail. The energy it takes to manage a schedule and your spoons is a roller coaster at best, and my personality depends on which processing disorder is driving the bus. So, sometimes I want to go for ice cream at 0200 and sometimes I cannot leave the house. Sometimes everything sounds wonderful, sometimes sensory deprivation does. And due to lack of emotional regulation, most people see a different side of me every time they talk to me.
I have learned to go into sensory deprivation when I’m angry so that I don’t say things I regret. It’s not helpful or healthy to let anyone in on autistic rage, which is terrifying. I have true out of body experiences when I go into full on meltdown, and the first time I remember it happening clearly was when I was 16 and “growing into my powers.” It’s honestly the first sign I can point to in terms of it being emotional abuse. My emotional abuser was coming back to town for a graduate school or a wedding or something. I was getting ready for church and I made a mistake with a hair curler or a crimper or something. I realized I was going to have to take a shower to fix it and I just melted down entirely. It was the first time I’d ever had a full on panic attack where I went blind and couldn’t see with rage. I hurt myself. I don’t remember how. With a curling iron or something. I couldn’t stop myself because feeling the burn on my skin brought me back into my body. That’s how deep autism makes you dive into your own little world. It takes something as shocking as a curling iron burn to redirect your attention.
In the meantime, I am dealing with autistic overload and most people don’t see how hard it is…. It’s a running monologue fighting with your social masks. As a neurodivergent person of any kind, your first impulse is wrong.
A huge example, Ben (& Company) is that I found the only woman in the world I wanted to do the work with, and we’ve both pissed each other off so often that we’re tired. Really tired. I felt your love for Jen in that moment…. Wanting to better myself because I was high on life and not experiencing the world as the concept of “alone.” I was experiencing the world with an ace up my sleeve. Someone to call me on my bullshit whose mind was in more hyperdrive than my own. But there was just A Series of Unfortunate Events. I don’t know if we’ll ever rekindle anything, because the last e-mail I got from her said, “don’t play games,” and playing a game was the last thing I would ever do to her. She’s too smart. She’d see it coming. The problem is that her perception is off- she sees me as entitled, arrogant, etc. I’m not. I don’t have a script for our relationship in any way, shape, or form. It has failed due to my lack of social masks.
So much goes into me having been called “entitled,” particularly by people of color. They are trained to view me as dismissive because I’m white, not because I’m autistic. That’s not on them. My autism is not an excuse to be an asshole. I can be taught, redirected…. But I cannot suddenly become allistic. And if there was a magic wand, I don’t think I’d want to be. My neurodivergence is what makes me capable of believing that writing a letter to Ben Affleck & Co. is possible.
I’m not writing to Ben Affleck & Company for anything except to keep our heads down and work on scripts. I also think it would be rude not to tell them I can afford about $800 in rent if Ben does want a housemate who has his back. It’s not like I value having his money. I just want to write together- to get a seat at the table.
I write like Ben and Matt because they write like Aaron Sorkin like he writes like Amy Sherman-Palladino with monuments.
It’s all neurodivergent patois.
That we incubated at our respective performing arts high schools.
Tupac, Jada, Dave, and I are all the same person.
To each other, we’re just other people’s weird performing arts kids.
Not only that, Jennifer Garner is a preacher’s kid.
Preacher’s kids make great spies, Ben. I have discussed this extensively. And in fact, there’s a famous video of Jonna Mendez taking down movie and TV spies. Jen’s was the only one that Jonna said was so good she could use it in a training video.
There are so many people I’ve met that live all over the world now. It’s impossible for us to get together in person, but we talk virtually all the time. Forced to choose one person and one person only, it’s J.L. Henry. He’s a novelist who’s from everywhere, but currently resides in Norway. He’s partnered with kids and it’s a country I’ve always wanted to visit (I’m fascinated by building homes in extreme climates). Therefore, a great vacation to talk to J.L. soon would just be us teasing each other about our writing, cooking together, and just hanging with the whole famn damily. Because Norway is a long way from the United States, it may be a dream deferred. But not for long. I still fully believe that if Bryn and I want to go to Helsinki bad enough, I could talk her into Norway as well. 😛 Plus. she’d get to meet the great J.L. Henry, which is way better than meeting the great Leslie Lanagan. 😉 Oh, and I only said Bryn was coming with me because I already mentioned that we have plans in Helsinki and Kilpisjärvi (well, dreams without earnest money, anyway). If our boyfriends decide they want to drag themselves across the world with us, who are we to stop them?
It’s not about meeting J.L. Henry. It’s about meeting J.L. Henry in groups.
Tyler Moore is another author I’d really like to meet, because he took out a great deal of time one night to help me figure out how to get my “rising creator” status on Facebook off the ground. Tips and tricks on how to gather followers, etc. The reason it’s more infinitely possible for me to meet Tyler is that he lives in Oklahoma, which is far from DC, but not from my grandfather’s house, which is two and a half hours northeast of Dallas. So, it’s an easier trip to visit Tyler than it is to visit J.L., but we all know each other and technically DC is in the middle. Tyler and J.L. should just come to me.
Now that that’s solved……
Doctor Who reminded me to keep talking to my mother, that the conversation isn’t over. I won’t spoil the episode, but the line that got me was “he’s not dead. He’s just gone.” I will say that The Doctor is still alive, however. 😛
Speaking of the show, there was a new character this week played by a British actress that looks so much like Cush Jumbo (Varada Sethu- she’s Indian, but in the show also had Cush’s pixie cut from “The Good Fight”) that I did several double takes.
I love Cush because she’s done Shakespeare as easily as she did an American legal drama. Those RSD women. Jesus.
Although if I had to pick my biggest celebrity crush on an RSD woman, Helen Mirren has been knocked down a peg. Now Cynthia Erivo has my heart. It’s not because Helen is any less beautiful to me. It’s that I heard Cynthia sing the Pie Jesu from the Rutter Requiem on “Fresh Air,” and I knew we were kindred spirits (I used to have a fabulous recording of me singing it). Plus, even though Cynthia is British, she’s an honorary Marylander because she was the title role in “Harriet Tubman.” Please respect Helen Mirren’s privacy during this difficult time. Although if I know actresses, Helen probably thinks Cynthia is amazing and worthy of my affections so she might not be too hurt by this.
Maybe I should send flowers.
Too much?
And lastly, I would like to talk to my housemate, David, soon. He’s probably up. I should go and make him some coffee. I don’t treat him like a partner or a child- he’s got a big interview coming up today for a work from home job that would fit us both perfectly because we like our home offices, we’re both neurodivergent, and we have all the sodas we like.
If you are a praying person, please put him on your list.
I’ve been watching YouTube for the last few hours, and I have discovered some amazing things. The first was a show about drumming. They’d take a drummer from one genre and just throw them into another. My favorite was a professor of jazz percussion at Juilliard that got “Enter Sandman.” You get to listen to it one time without the drum track so you can think about what you want to do.
But I start watching YouTube and invariably I want to start creating for the web instead of watching other people do it. I was also thinking about “getting to tell Beyonce who I am,” and how arrogant that must sound. I went to The High School for Performing and Visual Arts in Houston, Texas and so did she. However, I left either one or two years before she got there. Had I graduated from HSPVA, I would have seen her every weekday for the maybe year and a half she was at PVA. She did not graduate there. Not graduating from HSPVA works out better for some than others.
So, by telling her who I am, I mean I could walk up to her right this minute and we’d have the best conversation because we know SO MANY people in common. For instance, one of the choir directors at HSPVA while we were there, Rob Seible, was my choir director at Bering UMC. That is just one example out of many. It would not be interesting to me to talk to Beyonce because of her fame, because I’ve done show choir. I was over it before it began. I am very happy to let her do her thing, and I honestly believe she would rather talk about HSPVA than how awesome she is for the thousandth time (not that she is not awesome).
I could walk up to Matt Mullenweg (founder of WordPress) and tell him that I had Doc Morgan for Jazz II and he would instantly smile. I am not sure that Matt and I have any friends in common because I believe he’s a little too much younger for our paths to overlap. That being said, HSPVA becomes quite a fraternity because there’s only a handful of schools like it.
In thinking about that, it started me down the road of “if you could talk to other famous people, what would you ask them?” It started out as a thought exercise in my head because I think I ask good questions. And, God forbid I have an unexpressed thought……..
John Brennan, former director of CIA
What’s a story from University of Cairo that’s not in “Undaunted?” It can be off the record if there’s hashish in it. (That was the most entertaining part of the book…….. not sure why he decided to come back from Egypt, because the way he described his life sounded like perfection to me.)
Margaret Cho
Tell me about all the queer people that have come up to you and said that you helped them through their childhood.
Ellen Degeneres
What is wrong with you? Life is so unfair when you have 370 million dollars and lack personal responsibility. The next stage for you is not “old, mean, and gay” because I have practically cornered the market. The next stage for you is to reflect on why you’re surprised your career is ending this way. You have never taken responsibility when the buck stopped with you, and then you blamed it on Hollywood. Trying to compare it to getting fired for Ellen is atrocious. You were not responsible for being gay, but you were damn sure responsible for your staff. No one “threw you away again.” You fired yourself.
Bill Gates
I don’t really have a question so much as an observation. How is it possible to love and hate you so much simultaneously? Windows is getting worse, but the world needs more people with money like you. The Gates Foundation is terrific.
Jose Andres
When did you hear about Tony? Who called and what time was it? Do you remember where you were standing?
Who are your guys? What’s your last meal?
What’s your favorite station? Who’s the best chef you ever had? What did they sound like? Do you know how to do pastry or do you hate it like the rest of us?
What’s your favorite brand of gin? (I once had a housemate who worked for him and he said that was Jose’s favorite.)
Anderson Cooper
Can we cook sometime? I think I can help you with your sensory issues.
Harry Wales
How are you doing? Not in that fake, American way or that fake, British way. Seriously. Level with me. How are you?
Kamala Harris
Is Lindsay behaving herself? (Harris: wait. You’re Lindsay’s sister?!)
Eminem
You talk a lot about “blowin’ ’em off and keep goin.’ How does one actually do that? What gave you the self confidence to say that your voice was your own?
Rachel Maddow
Do you think if we got out our high school pictures, we’d be wearing the same clothes? (Having walked up to her wearing the same clothes she’s wearing currently because have you ever seen us in the same room? Kidding. People confuse me a lot with her because we’re both queer and have brown hair…….. Like they confused me with kd lang as well.)
Chris Hayes
Every time I think of you I say Chris Matthews first. Do you also have that problem? Yes, uh-huh. Rachel and I do look alike. Thank you.
I’ve been disconnected from everyone lately, because having two people validate my experience as AuDHD has made me run. I am not isolating to piss people off, it’s just that there’s three people in my life for which I have enough energy because I’ve made commitments to them. To augment that is to overload my sensory perception while I’m going through a hell of a lot, and I have not taken this tack my whole life, just the last 10 years (on purpose- I’ve isolated, but through mental illness, not working out a processing disorder). Meeting Supergrover was the catalyst for leaving Dana, but falling in love with her was not.
While I had a virtual relationship, it unlocked the disconnect between ADHD and autism. Dana and I began to drift as I holed up in my office to write. It wasn’t just attraction on my end; it was being able to process through writing all the time and becoming dramatically more introverted and quiet. I have a tendency to let another person drag me along because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, so me being steamrolled for eight years in this relationship is what I do. If I am not pleasing someone, I will not give up. I didn’t give up on the woman that emotionally abused me until someone who could read the situation blind (three someones, actually) and tell how she messed me up. They gave me permission, in a sense, to stop. Nothing was ever going to change or get better, because she made a horrible emotional mistake and was running from it. She gave me a college journal that was full of information about sex I never should have had at 14. Whether she meant to or not, she’s opened a door to something that I couldn’t handle…… but I was 14, so I wanted to…….. JFC I was so wrecked. I wanted to be married before I could drive or vote. She piqued my interest on so many levels that I know it wasn’t all abuse and there were genuine moments.
I wouldn’t be the singer or the personality I am today without her, for evil or for awesome. I would like to think that as I grew, I shed the things about her that no longer served me and tried to let go of rage. My rage toward her is the biggest trigger that makes basic anger multiply into red mist rage. At the time, in my mind I wasn’t being abused. She was a bird with a broken wing and I was going to help her fly again…….. in my infinite 14-year-old wisdom.
Guilt and anger led her to tell everyone how mentally ill and obsessed with her I was, because she opened herself up to becoming a monotropic thought process for me and fucked me over. The reason that the relationship with Supergrover is not the same, because the woman who abused me was a narcissist who fed on my emotions. Supergrover didn’t trust me after I’d hurt her. I got screwed over by my emotional abuser, so I perpetuated a bad pattern. Full stop. But regaining trust was impossible because for as much as Supergrover hates when I say it, their mutual experiences are the same, therefore so are their trauma reflexes. That doesn’t mean their behavior comes from the same source. I could not take responsibility for being 14, but I can take responsibility for being 36.
My isolation is thinking about The Gospel of Billy Joel:
They say that these are not the best of times, but they’re the only times I’ve ever known….. and I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own. I have seen that sad surrender in my lover’s eyes… I can only stand apart and sympathize, for we are always what our situations hand us… it’s either sadness or euphoria. So we’ll argue and we’ll compromise, and realize that nothing has ever changed. For all our mutual experience, our separate conclusions are the same. -Psalm Summer, Highland Falls 1:1-2
I wrote that from memory because an interviewer asked Joel what song was his favorite of all the ones he’s written, and this is it. I don’t have anything but the first two verses memorized, but that’s because they’ve changed my life the most. I realized that my entire personality was living life in two different time streams, because my writing digs backward as I move forward. It’s not a thing I do, it is a comprehensive response to life. I skirt the edge with blowback not because I’m asking for it, itching for a fight. It’s that I cannot understand my environments without it. What other people think of me is none of my business.
I did not come to that thick a skin unscathed, I just want you to know that. I had to tank my blog out of embarrassment and stop writing for a few years to get up the confidence to come back. It’s all connected, though. If I hadn’t taken the time out to regroup, I might not have written the article on Facebook Notes that translated into more popularity than I’ve ever had…. popularity that snagged my beautiful girl out of my peripheral vision and made her the whole show. I didn’t fall in love with simple adoration. Like Driving Miss Daisy, it was “I’m here to take you where you want to go.” You want to know how well Supergrover knows me? She bought me a font.
She’s crazy gorgeous, and remembers all my favorite things. Tell me my feelings are wrong. I’ll wait as long as it takes for all y’all to catch up. 😉
And in fact, I do not not think she had the same effect on Dana, the source of her jealousy and ire. It’s just a whole other thing because our adoration looked different. As my beautiful girl and I opened up to each other, it excluded her in a major way. Her jealousy was not wrong or bad, just, I feel, misplaced. Logic and emotion are not the same. Even if she didn’t understand my feelings, she completely understood why I would feel that way.
That being said, I do not think that Dana and I would have worked it out later because a) I couldn’t shut up and II) she overfocused on Supergrover being a monotropic thought process for me and not that I was actively trying to remove her (not from my life, from my “obsession” that’s actually autism- a trauma bond making it impossible to not make her my first thought every morning.). Thoughts of being with her were fleeting. Thoughts of supporting her were not.
I told her I would be the Merlin to her Arthur, and at no time did I stop meaning it. I figured out the balance years ago, and waited for the butterflies to fade. They did, but she hasn’t left the space she occupies in my head. Due to a series of fortunate events, I might be able to move her from a monotropic thought process to a passing interest, but she’ll never move out. She’s in the tapestry of my writing and my gray matter.
But, sensibly, since I couldn’t shut up about her it made her nervous. I didn’t have to love it, but I did have to live it. Therefore, I just had to be okay with seeming threatening in order to leave Dana; I didn’t want to be within a hundred miles of her. Staying in Houston would have been okay if I’d moved to a different quadrant. Leaving to go back to a familiar city was better, because I felt that the biggest mistake of my adulthood was leaving DC originally and not establishing myself on my own…….. social masking my closest friend was easier, treacherous when I realized that she wasn’t, in fact, my closest friend.
If I hadn’t left DC, I wouldn’t have been in water that kept getting hotter. I also wouldn’t be where I am now, so out of pain came glory. If I hadn’t moved back to Portland, no one would have been able to see the patterns we established in my childhood because they wouldn’t have been current patterns. An abuser always cold shoulders you when they’re done…… but you’re still pining for them because they trained your body with a Pavlovian response.
In fact, that’s why we “broke up.” It was years before Supergrover and I connected, but the spell had been broken and I’d started to reevaluate. There are three instances that pushed me into a cathedral of my own.
First, coming to Portland was rough on day one. Basically, I’d come to visit about four weeks before and we solidified plans for me to move. Then, when I arrived with my car, she looked more freaked out than I’d ever seen her in my life, like telling me I should move and encouraging me to find a job and a place was just child’s play. Like we hadn’t been discussing this since she got the job offer in 1996 or 7. It wasn’t a dumb move. She’d moved to Dallas so she could live with her partner while she used her for free rent to get through grad school (don’t think I couldn’t suss that out- her partner was every bit as much trouble as Dana- with her DUI, not Dana’s ability as a wife.) With the emotional abuser, as it turns out, “for all our mutual experiences, our separate conclusions were the same.”). Coming to Portland was about being able to have someone to lean on, even if we weren’t a couple…. just like had been modeled for me. She might have stayed with her partner, but not because she meant it.
Secondly, I know said emotional abuser saw the pattern repeat coming, the abusive one between her and me. I know she did. For every time she pushed me away, her love for me was the purest thing in her life. I know this because I got in under the wire. As I got older, I was not a person. I was an event….. an opera with many intermissions, plot twists, and both sopranos die at the end.
I don’t know how she knew, because I don’t know how she knew Dana’s drinking history. But I swear to God that’s what her eyes said….. “this is a mistake, but I know you cannot even see it yet because I have walked this path and you haven’t.” I was mad AF and still defend Dana to the ends of the earth.
Thirdly, at the time, it came across like “you’re better than Dana. She works at a grocery store.” It was very muddled because she was not the only one who held such an opinion. Neurodivergents have trouble holding down jobs. Period. She had to find the job she could do, not where she’s the most talented. Consistency over excitement. Hospitality every single day. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t studied Shakespeare. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t a technical theater major in college. That doesn’t mean she’s not an actor. She would have been hilarious on Portlandia- I would have, too, in the writer’s room.
But did my current friends see that? No. No, they didn’t. I didn’t just dump the abuser, I dumped all of them, too. They weren’t my real friends because they couldn’t see Dana the way I could. I saw her the same way as the people who birthed her, grew up with her. I didn’t live in her limitations, I reveled in her strength. Despite her truly bad case of ADHD, she’s higher functioning than I am. Social masking her was like social masking my sister (and that line is specific).
I learned all of this by going down to the river to pray, studying about that good old way.
One day when I was particularly wrecked about all this, two friends took me hiking in the Columbia River Gorge, where I sent my tears down Wahkeena Falls, out into the river, and around Cape Disappointment. They were the friends who bailed me out the first time I got dumped by this woman in a way I knew we’d never come back.
I mentioned before that abusers install a back door in you that activates dopamine/sex drive because it feels exactly like the first rush- if they’ve been turning the sunshine away from you to regain access. This came in the form of a phone call when I was in my 20s, one that when I got it, I didn’t want anything more in my life…… until it was over.
I would say her tone was seductive because I’d just watched her do it to someone else, but I’m willing to entertain the fact it’s not correct. At the very least, her tone felt inviting in a very heightened way, and I’m dead serious, not spitballing. She said that she felt like I was a woman she’d like to get to know. I don’t remember anything else because it was a trigger. I went into fight or flight immediately and damn near passed out from red mist rage. I’d had a full-on panic attack at work and went home early. It was 10 years before I knew why I’d been triggered, and couldn’t explain why I felt the way I felt, but avoided her from there on out.
Two things about that. The first is that when I reacted, she immediately pushed me away and I knew there was no chance to prepare my environment and “win” another chance. Second of all, I have to believe that she knew what she was doing. She didn’t stop herself, but she realized it was wrong afterward. On some level, she realized it was hurtful because of the back door and because it was a little too little too late.
I watched her marry a partner I didn’t like because she was just like me, the spitting image except older and more degrees. I watched her manipulate her best friend into “friends with some benefits,” keeping her on a leash for years. Someone I’d once wanted so bad I couldn’t breathe proved to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that she didn’t deserve me in her life, much less as a partner.
She has no idea how much damage she’s done, because since I was social masking her, I’ve been the best and worst of her without ever understanding why. It’s not that I’m not the best of my own mother as well, it’s that we didn’t spend time together as intimately for her to know me on that level. She got frustrated, I did, too, we gave up.
Years later, I went back to the Gorge with Dana, crying and singing my eyes out; it was the moment I knew I wanted to marry her, in retrospect. We were years away from it, and I knew. That’s because when I was finished crying and singing, I looked over and Dana was crying, watching me. She saw how much pain I was experiencing and took it on. It is a gift I will never be able to repay. I traded something valuable for something valuable, even though the relationship wasn’t valuable to me at the end. We became a bad thing for each other, we didn’t start that way.
Those three experiences shaped me- the ablutions in the river after a truly rough jump scare. I was so frightened of everything because I lost all my social masks at once; they weren’t social masks. They were triggers, and why I don’t like to speak. Speaking means not having enough time to think or delete things so I can never be sure when I will say something without thinking that she used to say and the pitch perfect imitation becomes the jump scare. When I mentioned having her sense of musicality, that’s the healthy part. The negative part is that I’m not in shape because I don’t like to hear myself sing.
I’m a lot more low-functioning than people think because of her and my dad. They’re both unique presences on stage and social masking them covered up just about all my executive function disarray because I was always “on.” What covers my executive function now is not covering it, because people thought I was coasting on charm because I was lazy….. not that when I don’t have a social mask for something, I am utterly and completely fucked. “Coasting on charm” is not a want sort of situation. I am only now trying to social mask Leslie Lanagan,™ because for once in my life, I don’t think she’s that bad. I also don’t think that “Diving Into the Wreck” is something I should avoid.
Supergrover and the rest of my friends don’t have all this context (or, they didn’t until I started writing it down). They haven’t known me since I was 12 years old.
Supergrover in particular gets on my ass about said abusive relationship, always has from day one. She does not see why I do not spit white hot rage all over this woman every day of my life. Easy answer is that monotropic thought process damn near killed me for real. Fuck her, but I’m taking my peace on my own by telling my story exactly the way I want to tell it, because she’s the one person in my life that I absolutely want to tank her career. Writing it out over and over gives the story less power and I’m done being worried about what she thinks, have been for 10 years. I’m not a vindictive motherfucker. She’s just worked with too many kids over the years and I’m also done protecting her. We cannot, do not have any more mutual friends….. or if we do, I run away when she comes up. I don’t talk shit about her in person because I already have a “shelf” for that.
I would Google tattoo her every day of my life if I hadn’t indirectly told Supergrover I wouldn’t. She didn’t ask me to do it, just disapproved of my approach to things because she knew my attention needed to be redirected before I did- not that my ire toward this person was unearned and/or undeserved. She encouraged me to lose my shit on many occasions. Though I decided loving Supergrover was worth my all-encompassing attention, I didn’t get over that abuse immediately because of the genuine moments it contained. My experience, unlike others, wasn’t all negative and I had to wade through it. With the information I had at the time, I wouldn’t do anything else but move to Portland if I could do it over.
For better or for worse, Supergrover is a wolf with terrible yellow eyes when she’s angry. When she met me, she found an excellent use for her jaws in my emotional abuser. When Supergrover bit her, the abuser’s claws finally, finally let go of me…… a mask falling off like the end of a Very Special Episode of Scooby Doo. What was valuable was not concrete. I’d had an experience with my cat recently that felt the same way. Asher was closer to a human than she was a cat, and I could tell the moment her personality left her body, because her face changed and she looked like a wild animal. Revealing the emotional abuse gave that face a different context, looking no less feral.
Supergrover and I are so much better at fighting for each other than we are fighting against, because if someone crosses her, God help them.
The only reason I was okay with the abusive relationship dying at the end is that I got time to make my peace. I was reborn into something I never would have been otherwise. My grumpy old wizard did find a knight, a “Wart” who’s already Arthur and I have to avert my eyes (WELL,STOP IT). I made it to Camelot, which is indeed a silly place.
Because I don’t have to think about abuse anymore, Supergrover has been in my head for 10 years as I process my mutual experience with abuser. Her anger carries me when I don’t feel it enough, and that was important in the months afterward- just not now because none of that is close anymore. I can write about it with the emotional separation I need not to explode emotional landmines.
I’ll let you know if Supergrover moves from her castle “in the cloud.” Just because I gave her an eviction notice means legit nothing in terms of the way I process, and she’s stubborn enough to keep me around in her mind, too. No matter what, we have a past, present, and future
…….because I live in two time streams, forward and backward. Where they meet is a fixed point in time, and you can’t cross your own timelline (I’m so, so sorry). You can only understand it after you’ve passed it by.
Podcasts are so sophisticated that they’ve turned my attention away from music. I enjoy conversation, so interview shows are essential.
My friend Wade introduced me to my current favorite, a CBC show called “Writers and Company.” The host is retiring, so I don’t know if she’s going to be replaced or a new show is going to be made instead. Through that show, I’ve met so many people like me. I’m not the same level of writer that they are, particularly for people like le Carré, but I identify with the creative process. I like hearing how people work.
In the unedited version of “On Being,” Krista Tippett always starts with asking the guest what they had for breakfast, and I’m like, “Krista…. thank you for asking the real questions here.
Pete Holmes (You Made It Weird) and Marc Maron (WTF) compete for my attention week to week based on guest, and if I have time, I’ll get involved with the show more regularly because keeping up with every show is how you keep up with Marc and Pete. They both have what I call the “Craig Ferguson effect.” They can both talk for an hour and it will be fabulous. Craig could have hosted The Late, Late Show until he died, no guests, and I would have been glued. I was devastated when he didn’t want the job anymore, but genuinely hope for his happiness and success because he’s another person I feel is a kindred spirit. He’s an alcoholic and I’m bipolar. Both rabid Doctor Who fans. Same software, different case.
I don’t think Craig has a podcast, but I have genuinely enjoyed listening to him when he’s been a guest on others. Sometimes I just need to hear “it’s a great day for America, everybody.” And when I need to, I can hear him say it on YouTube.
I love “SpyCast” and have been on it a couple of times, because I’ve been in the audience and thus the recorded Q&A. I haven’t always asked questions, but when I laugh, you always know it’s me. I got into it because of the interviews with Tony and Jonna Mendez in the archives, but stayed because I really liked Vince Houghton’s interview style (and later Andrew Hammond’s).
It’s cool to hear people like John Brennan when they’ve got five minutes on Conan or whatever, but they’re amazing when they’ve got 45 or 60. Spies are personable, yet not trained for television, either. It takes more than five minutes to find the rhythm in which they’re comfortable opening up, and that’s true of everyone who doesn’t work in television. Hell, even people who do work in television. I love long-form interviews with actors as well.
It’s not technically a podcast, but The Hollywood Reporter funds roundtables where actors, directors, and writers interview each other. There is a moderator, but for the most part the actors talk amongst themselves. You learn more about the craft than you ever would by watching TV.
In terms of writing roundtables, my other favorite podcast is “The Writer’s Panel.” You’ll see a list of guests and not recognize a single name, turns out they were on a team that wrote five of your favorite shows this year. And it’s always a random assortment, like “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” and “Schindler’s List.” Not a real example, but on brand. Work is work. I particularly want to hear from black writers, because their voices are more authentic to mine than whites given my sexual orientation. The Writer’s Panel is the first place where I’ve met a lot of black TV and movie writers at once, and even more importantly, all talking to each other. That’s the kind of “creatives talking about business” I need because they have the same limitations I do in working for a system that’s not built for them. Hearing multiple people come at the problem from different angles gives me solid information on which to reflect.
I have loved news since I was a child, so now I listen to it in Rachel Maddow’s voice whenever I can and Alex Wagner’s failing that. I listen to everything Rachel does, and I’m particularly wrapped up in her podcast series (multiple). I like how she weaves history into the present and I think that’s what makes me sound like her some days. I used to have a picture of Rachel sitting in her office as the background on my laptop, and my housemate asked me who had taken that picture of me. We look alike, we think alike, we have the same interests. I believe that I remind people more of her after we speak than before, and I’m her archetype everywhere in the world with my genderqueer schtick.
Before Maddow, people pegged me as kd lang. They probably connected me more easily to her because not only do I sing, she’s the lesbian who resembles me and other people know who she is. If I looked like Melissa Etheridge, people would have told me I looked like her on multiple levels….. and I know this because “you look like kd lang” has all sorts of connotations depending on tone of voice. Rachel and I probably both got called “kd lang” as a kid, because I can’t remember who’s older, but it’s not enough to be memorable if there’s an age difference. Therefore, I feel very tender toward her even though we’ve never met. Another person with whom I could set a date, step off a plane, give her a hug, and go for beers. On the surface, we are the same person, and not because we actually are. We are holding the same banner at the same parade. Rachel is one of those people that I think “I’d be happy with her.” It guides me as to who I actually want to date because not only do Rachel and I not live in the same city, she already has a partner and they’re so happy it’s impossible not to be happy for them. It is cool that she works here sometimes, though, because if we ran into each other I think we’d have fun. She could certainly introduce me to women I’d have never met otherwise, the reason I came to Washington in the first place. I didn’t want to be a Texas writer. I came here to play.
And with Rachel, it wouldn’t be about meeting women in terms of dating. It would be walking down the hallway and Hillary Clinton stopping us for a second. I wouldn’t have any business with Hillary and I wouldn’t care what their conversation contained. I would just be honored to hear something like that. It wouldn’t just be Hillary Clinton, either. Rachel knows everyone. She’s so powerful she probably knows we’re talking about her right now.
I am sometimes one of those women who likes murder podcasts, and always someone who likes “dark history.” Bailey Sarian covers both my bases with two shows available on YouTube and as a podcast. “Mystery, Makeup, and Murder” is a long form lecture on a murder while Bailey is applying her makeup. I love it because it’s so informal, and very much like reading one of my own blog posts because she just lays it all out there like we’re sitting there having a drink. She is also an outstanding makeup artist, and reminds me of Kevyn Aucoin with her style. I flip back and forth between MM&M on YouTube and audio because even though I am not into makeup as a general rule, she is so gorgeous that sometimes I just want to watch her in a not-creepy way for when I do decide to get “all nellied out.” The new foundations that are coming out are like magic. You can basically PhotoShop your whole face in 15 minutes flat. For the uninitiated, “all nellied out” is queer for someone looking extraordinarily femme and comes from Nellie Olson in “Little House on the Prairie.” I don’t do it much anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m not good at it. But really, when it comes to Bailey, I’m more attracted to the murder. She is just the wrapping that comes with the murder. It’s an excellent package.
When MM&M became insanely popular, a company asked her to do a second podcast called “Dark History.” These are long-form lectures that translate just as well on audio because she’s not doing something else. There are obviously dark episodes, like Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, but also things that most people don’t think about, like the war over pineapples and sugar. The child labor in chocolate and coffee. It’s just fascinating and I recommend it both because it is interesting and so is Bailey.
Indirectly, Bailey changed the direction of my media-watching habits because for the last, I don’t know, year or so? I haven’t really watched TV. I’ve watched YouTube. Finding MM&M and Dark History led me to watching other long form lectures, which in effect, sent me back to college. I haven’t seen all the latest shows because I’ve been thinking about the Roman empire. 😉 No, seriously. I watch lectures by college professors on history- military and CIA particularly because that’s what I’m researching. Right now, it doesn’t matter what era of military history it is, as long as we’re talking about WWII forward.
That’s because before then, we didn’t have an official intelligence service (and my novel focuses on both defense and intel equally). We had “Wild Bill Donovan,” America’s one-man traveling Langley. He had few friends in this town. Any mystery and cool factor over CIA that exists today isn’t based on them, I assure you. Military hated intelligence at first because they weren’t helpful, they were a threat to their authority. Americans love CIA because Ian Fleming charmed them into it. George Tenet knows this better than anyone else. He knew that CIA needed a win, so he was the one that declassified the operation so that the story of the Canadian houseguests could be told.
That’s because he knew Britain was in love with James Bond, and so was America. What if it was provable that CIA has a spy who is just as lovable? It has to be a good movie if my heart goes a little squishy every time I see Ben Affleck and it’s not because of “Chasing Amy” (I do not know a single bisexual girl who didn’t become absolutely 100% obsessed with that movie….. maybe I’m less bi than I thought or something.)…. and honestly, it’s exciting thinking about who I’d like to play Jonna if “The Moscow Rules” is also optioned (and she’s told me that there’s interest, but nothing has come of it- no ink). Kristen Stewart might be a good choice because she and Jonna both have the same vibe- feminine and rough and tumble. Same for someone like Megan Fox, Mila Kunis, etc. It would have to be an actor about Friends-cast age because if I was Jonna, I’d want Ben to play Tony in TMR, too (I’m just thinking out loud. Jonna, you can stop me at any time…. kidding, I don’t know if she reads me, but it’s not impossible). I can’t think of anyone I would choose based on direct comparison in looks, because I don’t think that the best actors do imitations. For instance, I don’t think Peter Dinklage actually looks like Cyrano De Bergerac, but I do know he chewed the scenery. It wasn’t an imitation. Dinklage became him.
I would choose Taylor Schilling to play Jonna if she hadn’t already played Tony’s first wife in Argo. I don’t remember how many years it was post-Iran, but she died of cancer before Tony and Jonna started working together.
Here’s the most important scene in “The Moscow Rules” to me, and I will be seriously pissed if they leave it out of the movie. Tony and Jonna worked in disguises, right? So they were in charge of giving people their disguises and training them to detect when they were about to get made. They did this by taking the “kids” to Georgetown and letting them loose, a spy game. They all have different skills, like one’s a linguist, one’s got the map in their head, etc. However, all the spies have to be functional in everything. It’s all about leaning on each other’s strengths and being capable when you’re alone. I think it’s the part about spying that’s ignored the most- how fun the training is. God forbid you get a job where you actually enjoy yourself.
I am sure that in a lot of ways, The Farm is like boot camp. You get out and the real world bears no resemblance to anything you just learned. The courage to be a spy isn’t being fearless all the time. It’s letting go of the fear that you’re going to suck and acknowledging that it’s okay to suck until you know what you’re doing. However, if you’re going to be a spy, know that it’s not a movie. Err on the side of caution because other people’s lives are in your hands. You could get people killed by leaving a newspaper in a coffee shop. It was an accident, and assets still got made.
If I sound like a I know what I’m talking about, it’s exclusively because of podcasts. After seeing “Argo,” I began to look for other writers that did things like it- and then Tony and Jonna released the book in reaction to the movie. But by looking around for writers, that included listening to podcasts about intelligence. Everything I’ve said is something I’ve heard directly, or is my opinion based on something someone else said.
I notice things that people don’t say in audio, more clearly on video. For instance, when I first started dating Zac, Jonna Mendez scared the life out of me on YouTube. We’re friends in real life, it wasn’t directed at me in any way, and yet my stomach clenched. She said something about “when you work for an intelligence agency, it’s not your family that’s the problem. It’s your friends.” And yet, for her, it was the other way around because she did tell someone in her family that made it a huge deal all the time, causing her not to tell her best friend for 35 years… interesting.
In fact, I’m not sure that said best friend still doesn’t know, because I don’t know if the friend was still living when she said that to the audience. Betraying a boyfriend with infidelity is child’s play, and both Zac and I are clear on it. I don’t have a problem with saying I’m dating Zac Wood here because I say it on Facebook, his profile is public, and it would come to someone’s attention faster than it ever would here in terms of search results. That being said, I don’t say things like the specific name of his agency, either. When I say he went to Langley or whatever, it’s because they’re his clients, not the other way around. You could probably Google all that, but my friends/fans on Facebook could do the same thing because he follows me personally and professionally. In short, I don’t want his Facebook profile and his character here to be different, because I want his professional persona to only be what he projects, and for my reactions to him to be genuine without touching on anything too personal in a business sense.
For instance, he can’t discuss troop movements in Ukraine, but we can both geek out over “Folksoda,” “Burn After Reading,” and “Slow Horses.” Neither of us have seen that last one. It would be a cold day in hell before either of us had time to schedule a marathon, but if we did it, “Slow Horses” would be a good one. It’s not that we don’t like being lazy and sitting on the couch. It’s that our lives are too packed to make too much of it. As a result, we make plans to watch things with no recognition of the fact that it’s been a month or so since we’ve seen each other and end up talking for six hours in a row instead.
I want to be with someone like Zac, and I only say “someone like Zac,” because I can have him, but I can’t have all of him. That doesn’t bother me. I just need to find my own partner if I want to settle down. I made the commitment not to start looking until January, because I do not want to be the type of person that turns my back on “The War Daniel” at a time when he needs love the most. He was lost in a pit of despair, anger, and addiction that will only start to lift in January (at the earliest) because it will have been a year since his last drink and his brain will be in a totally different place. No one knows this more than a doctor, and that’s why I call him “The War Daniel.” John Hurt plays “The War Doctor” in the 50th anniversary special of Doctor Who, and Daniel (before he retired) was a medical Navy Corpsman embedded with a team in Afghanistan during Operation Enduring Freedom. If he’d done the same job as a civilian, he could be certified as both a medical and surgical nurse practitioner, and in some cases is, I believe, superior to an MD trauma surgeon on his best day. Most people who have been to medical school didn’t have to put a brain back together under cover fire.
That is why I am comfortable living with him like royalty or paupers, because he deserves to earn his fortune and he also deserves to kick back and just be poor, living off his retirement so that he doesn’t have to ever do anything he doesn’t want to do ever again.
Dana’s dad (my former father-in-law, high comedy) was a Marine, but he was in the JAG and went into private practice later. I think Daniel could do something like that if he wanted, because he has the mind that would make law incredibly easy for him. But that’s only if he wanted to change careers. If he went to school to become a nurse practitioner or a doctor for real, that’d be a good move, too. It’s just that I wouldn’t want to do something if it caused triggers in me, but Daniel is in the unique position of never being able to walk away at any time. He has a patient population that will never in a million years trust anyone else. They may not have physically seen each other for ten years, but he’ll still get calls in the middle of the night. Sometimes, it’s easy, like “I can’t tell anyone I have a rash there.” Sometimes, it’s talking someone down who literally has a gun to their heads because he’s the only psychiatrist they’ve got.
Daniel could become president of the United States and he’d still be a doctor. He’d still be The Doctor. And here’s the thing. Daniel is George W. Bush if George W. Bush was smart. That’s because he’s the W. version of Bill Clinton without the rabid infidelity….. and he’s a war hero, having won an award that most win posthumously. Daniel could become president of the United States, and I know it like the back of my hand. But I do not want him for that. I would hate every minute of it. I have more in common with Michelle Obama than I don’t. All I’m saying is that if he decided he wanted to be president, people would show up in droves.
That’s because he’s got a George W. demeanor and my political/historical/writer mind. If he did want to become president, I could help him do it. That’s because I’d be great at writing his speeches in the background.
“When did you write that last part?” “In the car.”
If he is Jed Bartlett, I would have to grow into the role of Abby….. but he already has his Sam, Toby, Josh, and Donna…… on multiple levels.
“Oh. This is bad on so many levels.”
Accidentally sleeping with a law student that also happens to be a prostitute is exactly the kind of trouble I’d be in all the time, too. This is because a prostitute, lawyer, and preacher’s kid (and spy, feeding my special interest) have one thing in common. They’re all the type of people that connect to other people immediately and have interesting stories because of it. With someone like Laurie, she would have set my brain on fire talking about SCOTUS cases before I ever realized she was a professional…… another thing I wouldn’t give a fuck about because I would care so much more that she set my brain on fire, which is I think how Sam Seaborn would have reacted if he wasn’t deputy chief of staff……… who also thought at first that his boss’s daughter was like, nine to disastrous effect. He has an archetype, and it is me….. incidentally, I am also the archetype for Toby Ziegler because I believe he is coded as autistic. I see it clearly now because of The West Wing Weekly, which has made me look at the series again after many years. Scenes play in my head.
Ziegler acts like us, even stimming when he throws a ball against the wall to think more clearly. Everyone I know in real life just went “ohhhhhhhh.” Light bulb.
I’ve realized I stim by walking everywhere and dictating my notes. Attaching a sensory memory like walking makes an idea move faster and retain longer….. for instance, not only do I retain a lot of what I read, I retain a lot of what I write because typing is stimming in and of itself…… and honestly, prevents a lot of burnout because I am emotionally distanced from people while I write so I’m not anticipating someone else’s needs. I am fluent in my own and asking for your input so I can change my mind if I think you’re right….. at the very least, explaining my dealbreakers in detail so that someone understands why I can compromise so easily with some things and am so rigid about others. It all revolves around my disability because that’s something I can’t change, and is just as valid as diabetes or COPD. A panic attack in your mind is just as valid as an attack in your heart, and it makes me angry when people admit themselves to the emergency room with a real psychiatric issue. That’s because most of the time, it’s treated like a “false alarm,” thereby ignoring the underlying problem and ensuring that if it happened today, it will also happen next week because Xanax isn’t important and surgeons have prepared for battle. You can smell disappointment in the air.
If you’ve ever watched Scrubs, it’s the most accurate medical show in the history of the world because Todd is for real. Surgical really does have a bigger complex than medical, even though medical is generally smarter because they don’t just pull it out and see it like a plumber. They’re detectives. In my opinion, House is superior to your basic cardiologist, if you are unclear on what I’m saying. It is absolutely the difference between medical science and medical art.
I say this because J.D. is another good archetype for me. In fact, I would say that I’m more like J.D. than I am most characters on television and not because I have experience in medicine myself. It’s that my ability to learn the jargon has been heightened an enormous amount by living with e medical detective.
Because we also lived in Houston and I went to a math and science magnet in middle school, I was fascinated by her being a doctor because I thought she should apply for the space program. She said, “but Leslie…. I already am a space doctor. I’m a “room atologist.” Here’s the serious part underneath the conversation. Going to space is all about improvisation because you don’t have any tools or materials you didn’t pack.
My stepmother’s second favorite stethoscope was from the medical bag of a Playskool set, and I’m passing this information to all my friends who are still field docs…. but check them out and if they’re not good anymore, try to find one on e-bay from the 90s if you can plan in advance. Retro toys are all the rage- it’s not impossible. It’s something that bar being in the space program, if you don’t have it you can find it at most big box stores on the fly….. provided Playskool hasn’t fixed something that wasn’t broken. It makes me laugh that a Playskool medical bag is as essential as a burner phone in some cases…….. and a tampon can save your life in two ways. It’s ironic that two male soldiers told me why I needed to carry tampons on me at all times even if I didn’t use them.
To pivot to that story, the first way is if you get injured. They’re a great addition to a Band-Aid if you’re bleeding profusely (and you can put it directly into a wound if it’s deep enough). The second way it’s absolutely crucial requires two more ingredients. In order to start an all-weather fire (not foolproof), you need a tampon, a way to start a fire, and some petroleum jelly, which is most useful to keep in your car if the temperature drops and you’re stranded. The reason that the tampon needs the petroleum jelly is that it makes the flame last longer, essentially turning the tampon into a candle. It’s not enough to last more than 5-10 minutes, but it is a better shot at catching kindling than using matches, sticks, and paper.
Another thing I’ve learned in terms of the whole field doc schtick is that multitools and “spy pens” are no joke. They’re not practical for everyday with things like mini-glassbreakers, so it’s kind of like having a truck. Alternately and absolutely the most useful and wasteful thing you’ve ever bought depending on the task at hand.
For instance, a parachute cord bracelet that unwinds is another thing it’s useful to keep on you for emergencies, but the reason it’s not useful is that it doesn’t go with every outfit; who knows if you’ll have it if said time where it’s necessary is absolute and wearing it is optional?
If you are a photographer, my attitude is extremely similar. The most important camera you’ll ever own is on your phone, not your Nikon “Turn it Up to Stupid o’Clock.” That’s because you don’t want to lug around all the equipment, and your smart phone that records in HD for video and takes 12 MP photographs (perfect for printing) is in your pocket. If you have a smart watch, you also have a remote. Anything you can do on the best Nikon can be done with an iPhone or an iPad, a Samsung tablet or phone. When you can carry something so heavy and aren’t required, you won’t.
That’s because most people don’t specialize in photography and filmmaking, therefore do not need the file size that most professional cameras have on photos and video. Even then, for pros it becomes about convenience and they’ll deal with lesser quality because of it.
Seriously, get a tablet and it will change your life because it’s so light you’re more likely to have it on you. The two tablets that accomplished this the best for me were the Nexus 7 and the iPad mini. There was enough real estate to be able to edit accurately, yet they were small enough that it felt like the same diameters in terms of height and width in portrait mode as a novel. Great for things like writing documents and would fit in the front pocket of a hoodie or my smallest bag. My problem with them has never been the form factor, but that they haven’t been able to fit better hardware than is currently available into that form factor. That’s because CPU power for 7-inch tablets is “budget” because they’re going off of price and not use case scenario.
For instance, I could build a marvelous tablet out of a Raspberry Pi Zero because it would fit into a tablet form factor. However, it does not have the power of a Raspberry Pi, which won’t unless you’re just talking about a laptop with a touchscreen on the front. There’s no way to get it small and cool. Pick a lane. It’s not that they can’t stay cool, it’s that laptop cases that don’t come with fans are more likely to overheat, and there’s currently no Raspberry Pi laptop case that’s immune to it. The best I could do with a Raspberry Pi Zero is a file server or a smart mirror, because a graphical interface would run like a three-legged dog. Clicking a menu, then being filled with rage because you’ve come back and it’s still not done, etc. Because of this, it would take a ton of work and the best performance I could get would come with an interface that looked like NASA in the 60s, with Bluetooth for a keyboard and wifi to access other devices on the network. That would indeed be useful, but not on the go. You’d be limited to a tablet where you had to carry the keyboard everywhere, the interface wouldn’t support a touch screen (it would, but you’d get tired of it quickly), bail to the command line, and be limited to the applications you can run using only text. Games like Pong. A text editor. A web browser that doesn’t really work anymore, lynx. An e-mail client so ancient that all college students my age have used it, pine- so old that when I use it, I feel nostalgic and put up with its limitations often. But we didn’t use it the whole time. We transitioned to Eudora at University of Houston. One of the funniest support calls I ever got was from a lady who asked me how to configure her “Endora” account. She asked me why I was laughing and I told her that Eudora was a mail client. Endora was the grandmother on “Bewitched……” Really, I wasn’t laughing at her. She reminded me of my mother’s mother, who made malapropisms standard operating procedure. She once told me she was going to lay down on the couch with an African (afghan). I doubted it, because losing certain words was so hard for her.
I’m not ashamed of being a Texan, but there’s always been a lot wrong with it.
After all, I did agree to marry George W….. if W. was smart. I’m not holding onto him forever, but I am holding onto him until I am sure that we’ve both had enough time to decide whether we made the right decision in the moment or not. I believe, like Meag and me, that it wasn’t that we aren’t good together. It’s that it was the wrong time and the wrong place, because with his addiction and both our mental illnesses/processing disorders, we were trying to find a secure environment in a hurry. But read “Blink” and then question whether I was wrong after you’ve had time to really take it in.
I blew Supergrover’s mind with two blinks in a row, but because of my autism, I could express my entire thought process in a way that came across clearly in text. She was excited for Daniel and me once I explained the ins and outs. That it wasn’t a snap decision like a wedding in Vegas. It was taking a leap toward a better life with a friend I’d known since I was seven and has a daughter I’m completely in love with as if I’d had her myself. It blows my mind that I’m old enough to be the stepmom of a 25-year-old. It was also good for me to have a partner, that polyamory meant he didn’t care if I fell in love with him or not because being friends trumped everything else, that having his back was more important than a wife. That whether I ended up being Leo or Abby it wasn’t a dealbreaker. I said the same thing to him. That even if I can’t be Abby, I’ll always be CJ.
This is better than, for instance, being with Meag and secretly pining for……. someone else. Being with anyone and pining for someone else, now a recurring theme I can’t ignore because it lends itself to cheating when you have ADHD and autism. Your brain makes you ruminate about someone who is not your partner and if they have ADHD, you won’t have to guess because they won’t keep their mouths shut for love for money.
Ask 50 neurodivergent people. We all agree.
That is why research suggests that poly behavior among neurodivergent people is sky high. They throw truth bombs whether you like it or not, which actually makes it easier to communicate because boundaries are secure. It’s especially common among couples where both halves are neurodivergent, because they understand the idea that obsession and complete disinterest are symptoms and there are times when both of us are going to tap out and come back together. It’s extreme because of the processing disorder, not because we’re mad at each other. There is also a complete and total difference between the love you have for a partner and the love you have in NRE (new relationship energy). The former is deeper, like drinking fine wine or looking at a Renoir. The latter is Jackson Pollack deep fried on a stick.
You can enjoy both environments depending on mood, but to be clear your partner is never going to be Jackson Pollack ever again…….. and not because they’re less valuable. It’s the nature of the dopamine when you first meet. Once it’s gone and lust isn’t the “forward note,” it is only really then that you find out where the rubber meets the road. I am neurodivergent and find it quickly. That is either because I am pastoral in nature and people spill things to me up front, or they are annoyed by my ADHD and Autism. There is no in between and my relationships tend to burn bright and flame out because of it, including at work.
I am not alone. I think something like 80% of autistic people are unemployed at any given time, because think of how hard work must be if you were bullied in school and teachers of “real” subjects looked down on special ed? Do you think that bosses and coworkers are in any way different when we graduate from high school? Teachers decided that you didn’t need it if you were smart, limiting anything we would have learned to help us later on. It makes for a hostile work environment because without special ed, we might have suffered in school and still made it through, but we didn’t learn any thought processes except social masking. Nothing even close to what’s available on autistic YouTube right now…… and lots of podcasts are just YouTube videos with the visuals cut, so the videos are the podcasts I listen to whether it’s on YouTube or not.
Everything I have said in this essay can be found in one podcast or another. I am so grateful that talk radio has expanded in this way…… but podcasts can only do so much when I want to see Rachel Maddow instead of just listening to her voice.
What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received?
I remember things by the way people say them, because if it’s a good line, I will hear it in their voices for the rest of my life. Good lines often have a cadence to them. For instance, my pastor came up with “resurrection happens in the middle of the mess.” I came up with “messages I’ve missed in the middle of the mess.” I gravitated toward it because it had the same musicality. One line leads to the next, a call and answer. Resurrection happens by examining the emotional places you’ve never been.
I have memories playing in my head like movies a good bit of the time. My writing is what happens when I stick my head into a pensieve, and I’m giving you access to it. The messages I’ve missed are often in plain sight when I’m seeing me as a different person, rather than perpetually reliving things. I am not reliving anything, I am searching for what I can do better in the future, and that only happens when you can look at yourself and see both your inner Aziraphale and Crowley.
How do I know what will work in the future if I don’t know how I broke the past? I know how I’ve broken my past because I wrote it down, essentially giving myself a past because few people write about their lives to this degree. When they go back to reassess, their memories are faulty. You cannot say that yours is infallible, but if there’s a blog entry on what happened written that day, that memory is secure by the nature of the timestamp. I’m not just making shit up. I am also very musical with words by nature of crafting rhythmic phrases on my horn, music only I can hear because only I know the voices on who said what.
I retain information with rhythm, essentially becoming a mimic in my writing and in my thoughts; I don’t just go back to that one line. It feels like I’m standing in the same room again, even just for a few seconds.
I give myself a lot of good advice by going back and reading what I thought years ago and seeing if I’m doing okay comparatively. Except that I don’t think of it as listening to myself, but the people who inspired my writing that day. It’s like an actor watching their old films. They aren’t living in the story on screen, but the one about how the art was created.
I like having written intimate things about the people in my life, hoping that the musicality of my words will stick with them, because being my friend isn’t easy. They all have their favorites, I’m sure, and their favorites never match up to my favorite things I’ve written about them.
Bryn loves the mirror I hold up on our relationship because she says it teaches her new things about herself. She gets what I’m trying to be, which is so real that people identify. I don’t want to be famous, I want to be heard. That’s why I don’t have to be on Oprah to know I’m making a difference. My platform is smaller, sure, but a platform nonetheless. And on the Internet, where everything is protected by a wall of anonymity, I never know when I’m speaking to people like her or people like me.
In fact, now that I think about it, Oprah did give me the best advice ever. On the last episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show, she talked about how everyone has a platform. Your family. Your church unit. Your work colleagues. All of those people add up, so no matter how small you think that platform is, it’s enormous. Use it.
Oprah’s not on at 4:00 PM anymore, so someone has to pick up the slack.
It’s the message I’ve missed in the middle of the mess.
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
A friend said this about New Orleans, but this is how I feel about travel. It’s a full-on parade of thought; I’m excited until I’ve been away from home for an amount of time that’s never enough to settle. It’s why I’d like to do Air BnB. It would be great to spend a month in Paris rather than a few days in a hotel and at a better rate. Paris is a city that in order to understand it, you have to adapt. You’re from the United States. Your rhythm is not the same. That cognitive dissonance takes time to resolve, so I like trips that are long enough to make you forget your other reality and stop comparing things to it. When I’m in Mexico, what takes the longest is flipping my brain into Spanish. Having conversations where you are both processing thoughts and emotions while translating is exhausting, and Mexicans are so kind about it. The French are not, or at least not the ones I’ve met because I’ve only been to Paris. It has less to do with the fact that I only know a few words and they’re frustrated and more with the fact that Paris is like New York and London. They don’t have time for you not to know what you want, just like if you need something from someone on the tube in London, say the bare minimum and move on. Talking to strangers isn’t their thing in either city. It would take me a long time to adapt to Paris, but “my wife” says that when she reads me, she sees colors of David Sedaris.
That wasn’t flattering at all, JFC.
It makes me feel comfortable that David is the kind of person that if I ran into him in Paris, we might be able to strike up a friendship because I would remind him of the time we met in Frederick without hounding him for anything. I have so many creative friends in my life that fame doesn’t faze me. I just want to sit at the table if they think I’m worthy of it. Writers don’t give other people their time if they don’t think that person can keep up with them intellectually. They have so much fun and devastation on their own that it takes a lot to get through to them. You have to prove that your company is better than “the characters they keep.” Nothing is more important than complete isolation when you’re writing. For me, that looks very much like the classic image of a coder because I did web development for a long time. My favorite tools are text editors that color code and I type with all the lights off and my editor in dark mode. I’m just not doing the HTML because WordPress does that for me. I mention the way I work because it leads to the fact that the story of the farthest I’ve ever traveled includes times where I haven’t left my house.
I have lost myself in this world where I spill out everything in order to lead from the back, and it has fed me in every way that’s been missing. I love feeling confident in the fact that I can express myself, and don’t mind that my archetypes are Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, and Mr. Robot. I also have to accept that the virtual world is not the physical, and to be responsible with relationships. For instance, I don’t know if my new writer friend knew how I felt beforehand, but it made me feel good that when I asked to friend her, she really saw me as an actual friend because when she messaged me, she sent voice notes instead of typing. It just normalized everything, and she’s got a gorgeous voice Yes, we’ve sung for each other, and now I know a karaoke night would be in order if I was in the ATL or she was headed to Air and Space.
I have to remember the fact that other people don’t have the archetype of Mr. Robot and don’t write like they’re coding into the night, one thought pouring into the next at a frantic pace, made more urgent by the sound of their own typing. I get going and I say things that are over the line without truly thinking of the consequences. The separation of being virtual heightens everything, and I don’t want to feed into it.
I don’t want “my wife” to feel like I am wandering from who I really am, and she can be a better judge of that by hearing what I mean in the way I meant it. Her voice notes were just a good reminder to keep it real, and we’re having a good time. She’s not only an actress starring in a play right now, she’s a recovering attorney who went to school in the DMV and does conflict management in the ATL now. Endlessly fascinating and we haven’t found a lag in conversation yet. It’s what really examining how far from home I was willing to go has meant to me over the last 10 years. It’s been the journey to hell and back with someone because I caused the root of the conflict. Losing someone is one thing. Being responsible for it is another.
It’s why I’m glad there’s medication to help me cope with all my silly ruminations, and ironic that the more I spill them, the more you gather. My medication just introduces upper and lower limits. It guides the direction of my compass, the only thing that matters when sailing foreign seas.
Not in a mean way, like launching a bomb. In the way where you realize that you have absolutely said the thing you needed to say and it cleaned you out so hardcore that the tears actually stopped. When I am writing, I am the most vulnerable. I often cry when I’m writing, the ablutions coming from my own eyes. I touch type so it doesn’t matter if the screen gets blurry.
It occurred to me that I’ve been looking at this wrong. If my beautiful girl is telling me that she doesn’t have time, that’s why she thinks I’m goading and provoking her. She’s not taking the time to correct the story she’s telling herself, and hurting herself with my words. I know this because she could say the same thing verbatim, we’re just opposite. She’s only processing our interactions through the lens of what’s going on right now. I’m filtering her behavior through every interaction we’ve ever had. Our perspectives are different, because she is seeing me as the person I am in this minute, and not whether my behavior is out of character or not.
She thinks I bring up things a second time in order to goad and provoke her, when I’m repeating myself because it’s important and she hasn’t acknowledged. She has too much on her plate for me to expect that she’d go back to an e-mail, because there’s a thousand on top now. So, what comes across as context to me doesn’t translate.
Now do you see what I mean about wanting to clear up this crap in person? I cannot tell you how much fun we would have had if we’d only made the commitment to just be weird. Just have it out. It’s going to be awful at first. We’ll get over it. We’re fucking hysterical.
We would have owned this fucking city, and I know it. I would have done some very shady shit just to be able to show her my DC. Ashton Kutcher made me laugh the other day when he said that he just loved Jennifer Aniston, so he went up to her husband (Brad Pitt at the time) and asked him if he could take her on a date. That he would be very respectful and have her home by ten and all that shit. Brad laughed his ass off and told him to go ask her. This is the high comedy I was looking for. I would never in my lifetime do anything to make my beautiful girl uncomfortable, and that probably would have, but it made me go into the “I can’t even make any sound” laugh. I’m thinking about it again today, because he and I have a wonderful relationship in my head. Don’t think we haven’t gamed out what it’s like to be hers. Shit.
He’s the face of God when I need a higher authority.
I cannot speak for him, but I think he decided a very long time ago that he was going to marry her cerebral circus, knowing intimately that he was the Rhoda and she was the Mary and that would never, ever, ever change. This is because she’s the kind of personality that everyone who has ever loved her has felt this way within five minutes. After meeting many narcissists who’ve been like that, it was unimaginably beautiful standing up with someone who really was that genuine. That lovebombed because her love really was that big, it wasn’t a ploy or a game. Finally, someone who loved every bit as big as me. Someone who wanted to think big and didn’t think my ideas were crazy because she was in charge of lots crazier shit than my goat roping clusterfuck of a blog. I hope she felt the same way about me, but I am not sure I did enough to prove it. That’s because the story she was telling herself is that because she’s so busy, I am unhappy. This is not true. She is not emotionally available, and I am unhappy. You can spend five minutes a year with me if you’re willing to go deep and actually catch up. She told herself that she was failing me, when there aren’t even words for how much my love and loyalty branches over her, as if to provide shade.
She doesn’t recognize wanting to hear her emotions and deepen our connection as my love language, or doesn’t want to open up. This is what felt the most nebulous. If you don’t want to open up to me, that’s fine. But tell me you don’t want to open up to me so that I can leave in peace, because I have learned so much about what love is after so many years of learning what it isn’t. Those aren’t my words, but they’re true and I can’t remember who said them.
Everything she told me I was doing was passive-aggressive, because since I’d broken her trust, it was impossible for her to believe that my motives were pure. She got tired of me speaking to her the way I normally do because who even am I? Why should she even have to listen to this crap? Why can’t I just move on?
I did move on, but trauma triggers happen. Doesn’t mean I was trying to attack you when it did. I am emotionally intelligent enough to explain anything on earth. That’s when her thinking I was goading and provoking took an ugly turn, because it taught me that she really didn’t understand me at all because not correcting the story she was telling herself over the years made her think I was a dark character most of the time. Fair, but don’t keep me in your life if you think that. Go have your feelings by yourself. I let her think I was a dark character because I thought that she’d realize how much time had gone by and snap out of it.
She didn’t, and it gave me a complex because she’d do things like accuse me of trying to meet her friends just so I could get close to her. It was never even in the realm of possibility. Ever. She treated me like dirt and I let her, browbeating myself for opening up to her on a romantic level because she’d be able to use it effectively forever. She could justify emotionally starving our relationship for years on end, because I wasn’t a priority.
That wouldn’t have even registered as important to me if she didn’t also love me like a house on fire and show me that, too. It was an unusual kinship, which I thought of as a unique, quirky platonic love story we could have sold for millions and she called it “this thing we’ve managed over the years.” I should have ghosted her then, because Jesus fuck. That was harsh, even for her.
She never addressed the virtual/physical cognitive dissonance and didn’t even bother to respond when I called her out on it, a full eight years after I’d broken her trust. That’s when I knew we were absolutely fucked and to stop trying. If she couldn’t even talk about her feelings or meeting up to try and change our reactions to each other, this pattern needed to die because we were both exhausted at trying to read the other one. It’s just that because she wasn’t really seeing me, she was attributing behaviors to me that aren’t my personality at all.
I don’t think she realizes that every INFJ is thousands of years old. Every single one, from the time that they are born. If you’ve read “The Giver,” I can think of no better analogy. INFJs are the Givers and Receivers of the world, the memories. I should never have let this relationship get to where it is now, because I feel like I should have recognized what I’d done and why things would never go back. Every time our relationship started up again, it reminded me that I wasn’t enough. That I would never be enough. She didn’t see me as the same person, and a stain stands out on white fabric.
She would say none of that’s true. That’s she’s done plenty of things for me. And yet none of them were the things that would have actually said to me that we’d be all right. She felt like she couldn’t win with me, when I was constantly telling her what would work. My love language is words of affirmation. Hers is action. Because of the virtual/physical disconnect, I had to get creative, and I did.
She did the same creative and wonderful things for me, but we weren’t connecting the way that we had. We didn’t even use the same language. It felt like getting a cheap futon home and only having Spanish instructions, that we could have figured it out working together…….. but we didn’t.
I’m going to have to stop saying I’m going to stop writing about things, because I just realized that the ablutions are not the tears.
I feel the best in casual clothes because I can move better, and like Suze Orman on SNL, “it’s all about the jackets.” I have three American Giant jackets, and I’ll never need another one. They’re so well-made I think they’re my only heirloom. They also complete every outfit I own, because they’re gray, navy, and teal. One is rugby style, and the others are hoodies. The rugby jacket looks more dressed up. 😉
Additionally, I love taking photos, and there are few similar experiences walking around the monuments covered in snow.
But by far, my favorite story involving cold weather involves snow, a Jewish cemetery, and Pacific Northwest elevation.
Dana found out that her ancestors were buried at Beth Israel (Dana is not Jewish, but they were). So, we get this information and we head out there, because it was sprinkling snowflakes…. not even enough to raise a delay for anything. I told Dana that it would look so pretty in photos, the monuments covered in a “light dusting of snow.”
Enter southwest Portland, Oregon.
We cross the river and realize that the snow is falling faster, but we’re in a Jeep Grand Cherokee. We could go anywhere, especially with chains in the cargo area just in case. Besides, it wasn’t THAT much snow.
We arrive at the cemetery and now it’s really coming down. It’s also late afternoon, and the sun is just starting to set. Dana goes and knocks on the caretaker’s door to ask if he knew where her ancestors were, or if he had a map. He said he’d find where they were, and didn’t have a map she could read.
Dana stamps out to my Jeep and says, “the caretaker said he had a map, but not one that I could read.” She was very upset and indignant about it because she thought the caretaker was saying she was stupid. I said, “Dana………………. we’re at BETH ISRAEL. Don’t you think the map is in Hebrew?” I have never heard anything make her laugh harder than she did in that moment.
We find the ancestors and pay our respects, and by then the snow has stopped. I took some gorgeous pictures that day, because I was so right about the weather making the photos look better.
Getting home was another matter. “Hell is other people.” No one ran into us, but we did help keep a Prius on the road when it went sideways. It also took two and a half hours to get home, but I’m not sure we really noticed all that much. We can both talk to a signpost all day long, so being stuck in traffic was nothing.
I think we went home and played our favorite game, Drunk Trivial Pursuit, which was always fun but never in the way we thought. First of all, neither of us ever forgets anything, so being drunk never made us worse at the game, and we got better at it over time because we didn’t have to know as much. We just had to remember the right answer from the last time we got it wrong. The best part is that it was classic, the one in the blue box that everyone had when it was a full-on craze. Anyone our age and above has played. Some of the answers were funny in retrospect because they aged like milk, some because they brought up things we hadn’t talked about since they happened.
We both had that skill where we can pull answers to questions out of thin air because our combined interests covered everything on earth. If it wasn’t direct experience, it was reading a book in 1993….. or picking up things from other people. Seriously, how else would I know Jordan Spieth won The Masters in like, 2015? I’m not going to look it up, but I won free beer which I owe entirely to friends with a golf obsession (I’m a queer woman, you can aim that number HIGH).
We both knew Shakespeare (she was a technical theater major in college), and I’m a voracious reader), and yet my favorite 12 minutes of television is “Just Set Up The Chairs” from the cartoon “Regular Show.” I watched it every day for months, because it was just the right amount of time to eat lunch when I came home in the middle of the day (I lived 10 or 15 minutes from my office so I could do it easily). Doctor Who is brilliant, but has never made me laugh as hard as Muscle Man and Hi-Five Ghost…….. and say all the time that I found my Margaret in Dana and now need to find my Cloudy Jane). It’s just so inane and yet meaningful.
I have Mordecai gripper socks that are double weight. Perfect for cold weather.
Really all I want you to do is read my blog and listen to the story of my boyfriend and one-day husband, Daniel. Then boost the signal if you like what you read. However, I am not only checking in with you because of that. Just asking what I need up front in case you’re busy.
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First of all let me say that you are one of the people I love most in the world just for being you. I am proud to see that when you were acting, you took a huge risk and it paid off big. I take you as you are. All your crap because all people have it and your incredible capacity for love shows through every damn day. We are not strangers, but I doubt that you would remember me because we have not communicated since roughly 2003. You used to be one of my fans and on my Blogrolll (orwhatever). We exchanged comments a few times, and then when you published “Just a Geek,” I came to Powell’s on Burnside to get it signed (Or did you do Powell’s Technical Books that tour? I don’t remember). My blog back then was called “Clever Title Goes Here,” and when you matched a name to a face, you signed my book, “Dear Leslie, Clever Inscription Goes Here.” Those are such precious memories.
Are you tight with Anil Dash and Chason Chaffin? I remember you commenting on Chason’s web site as well, but he hasn’t told me if you stayed in touch. I’m a huge fan because you’re famous, and the way you got there was being well respected at craft. If you have any teaching experience in writing, I’m all ears.
I am definitely writing this to ask you a favor, but not one that’s hard for you……. yet impossible for me. I just need a tool that you have and I don’t. You’re famous, full stop, and you’re a well respected writer. I wrote a blog entry about my boyfriend winning a medal of valor that just left me emotionally spent, and it was short. If you like it, could you put it on blast?
I’m in Facebook Jail because a black girl called me “Raisin Potato Salad” and I took exception to that. She was clearly trying to insult me based on an hour’s conversation and she wore down my last nerve. I am a line cook. Food is life, and Africans/African-Americans have always been trailblazers In the kitchen. I said nothing racist, but she said something prejudiced. I said, “if you want to come at me with ‘raisin potato salad,’ you are messing with the wrong bitch. I’m from Houston, one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world be cause it’s a port. We will throw down, and I will kick your ass sideways.” As my college roommate and soul sister would say, “I am a Christian and I also have no problem breaking your back tooth and praying later.” I don’t even want to tell you what she does for a living, but if she was queer, I would have married my life partner in 1999. This is because she’s already my life partner in a platonic sense, because she’s just one of the people I do life with and have since I was 20. Her daughter is a lesbian, and I said two things that are worth putting here in response to it.
The first was, “you know why your daughter’s gay, don’t you? God saw how you treated me and decided to give you a special girl of your own.” The second is hearing how she deals with homophobia. See above. “I need you to be my mom now. Fight for me the way you fight for her.”
My skin is white but I have a black soul when in comes to cooking because so many racist Southerners (only white ones. Racism is a system. People of color cannot even begin to create such a thing) eat the same shit and turn food into a ridiculous stereotype but only for POC.
Soapbox over. Rooting for you to win Celebrity Jeopardy. I think Ken Jennings is a hell of a guy. Never met him as a writer/content producer, but he’s bomb. Mayim Bialik is the absolute hottest choice known to God and man for this role. Fight me, although I know you won’t. Privately, rawr in the most respectful tone for the good doctor as possible.
If you have a minute, will you tell me what it was like to work with Gaiman once the adrenaline wore off? I’m not digging for dirt. I just want to learn what you learned about his craft, because I know you’re smart enough to have analyzed it by now. Actually, any stories you’d like to share with me about fellow creatives’ process would be wonderful. I’m very positive, not being a dick, wanting to be a student like watching Inside the Actor’s Studio every week even though I don’t act. These days I’m obsessed with carpentry and making check out Laura Kampf on YouTube- gay movies tend to suck because production values are low. So gays went to YouTube and made their own content. They own HGTV now, it’s just not on cable.
That’s what’s running through my mind as I’m discovering I’m not gay, I’m just queer. I’m writing through it. If you think of a project I’d be right for, I’d love to be in the writer’s room. I have legit no experience, but if T**** can be the president, I really don’t mind just shooting my shot and seeing what you say. Not willing to move to LA but would come and visit if you could pay. I don’t want your money. It’s just a tool you have that I don’t. I would also love a digital autograph I could use as the background on my tablet (not for publication ever in case you’re a privacy nerd like I am), also assuming that I’m not taking too much of your time.
All love, brother. I hope all is well. You seem good on the outside. Is that true? You okay?
Stories That Are All True 