Friday, January 23, 2026

Possibilities, in A Sentence(Poem)

 We are sorry this sentence is still not fully accessible(we've been trying for years)

This sentence is still hung over from a girls' trip.

This sentence is afraid she will be disgusting when she's her mother's age.

This sentence would be in an afterglow with a sentence from another page, but he was afraid of his feelings and turned.

this sentence was born three months premature, so it's a miracle, even uncapitalized.

This sentence is more in love than ever.

This sentence is special because it knows that it ends. 

Monday, January 19, 2026

My Friend Once Wrote That It Was "heroic"...

 that I kept going in the face of, maybe,  self-esteem xeriscaping(Not a lot of spiritual water, sometimes, you know?) She's gone, now, so even a response to my alternate e when my cat died gets some scrutiny that it might not if she were just sitting around eating popcorn in the Bay Area.  Still rejecting the hero thing, cause heroes get to win and I'm pretty sure that I don't. Not to leave another post about self-loathing in here. More to the point, I think Giving Up and Not Giving Up are much more binary for abled people.

 

 

Wednesday, January 7, 2026

Government Small Enough To Fit In Your Guts....

 (Trying to turn this into an op-ed about a SNAP fast-food ban kicking around AZ lege right now... as this is, it's probably too long.)


Since they have been so successful putting it in people’s panty drawers and so many other such places, I guess they want in our larders and our guts


When I started this piece, I was building up to a lecture, probably because the feelings that this topic brings up can be so uncomfortable.  So, yes, the banned-foods-on-SNAP conversation is about Free Will and Choice and how sometimes people who are struggling(which, at different times, for different reasons, includes many of us) seek out consolation prizes. There are things about the food system, too, and why things that seem like junk can be cheaper and easier to get than things that are fresh that more informed writers tackle every day, so, definitely find one of them instead of me about that, and I’ll try not to speculate about what mass-produced foodstuff excites Rep. Martinez’s own taste-buds, but most Americans have at least one, in my experience.She eats it, too, I'd bet anything I had.  

If I’m honest, for me this conversation starts with marshmallow fluff. In college, my roommate and I needed some for a recipe and didn’t have cash. None of that seemed as hard as it might have later because we were Getting Our Educations in the booming 1990s and everything would work out one way or another, even from our wheelchairs.As everyone said, “We have the ADA now,” and it’s still fun and novel to make things stretch and stuff. Just learning *so much* every day.  So I make my purchase and talk to the clerk about the weather or my weekend or whatever, which is fine, but I’m still slower than most of the other people with one item so a knot of shoppers starts to collect behind me.

If I’d been a target of a group eye-roll before, I’d been too wrapped up in what I was doing, possibly while talking, to notice fully, but that time, I still remember how my skin burned under so many “Oh, man, here we go!” faces.  I remember being torn between full-on shame and the kind of defiance that made me want to blurt out something like “Okay, you got me.  I broke my brain eating nothing but marshmallow fluff so you assholes would have to support me FOREVER.  That was my incredibly evil, short-sighted plan.”(Evil laugh optional)

But, you know, some people would laugh or feel chastened as I might want, but it would only take one thinking “Wow, she just sits there and admits it,” to make me regret that, even in an era right before “going viral” was for anything but actual viruses.

I still sometimes wonder what would have happened if I said it, because obviously, as  House Democrats discover every week, keeping my powder dry did not lessen the pain at all.   Nor was it supplanted by my eventual, well-funded awesomeness.

 

Saturday, January 3, 2026

Found this shirt...

"Don't make me run over your foot." 

(it's for charity...I haven't started selling stuff.  I've been so good about not adding to my swag pile, too.  Oh, well.) But you could get one, too, if you wanted.

Funny to find such a militant shirt when I'm not that sure I believe in that stuff anymore. Also, in my experience, running over toes is harder than it sounds...that's what he said.

Thursday, January 1, 2026

Was Wilbur Wright Disabled?

 Would not even think to ask this if my brother didn't give me a book of David  McCollough's writing called "History Matters" that made some mention that the aviation pioneer suffered health setbacks after a hockey accident he had as a teenager.  The historian makes special note of Wilbur's interest in ornithology, which might have fueled wing design.  Even more than now, maybe he would not want to identify as a disabled person, but here's what they write atThe Wrights' birthplace.  Not to be That Person, with "Everything happens for a reason," but I suppose that we should keep in mind that we learn, even when things look slow...you never know.  

Tuesday, December 30, 2025

Just Posting This Link...

 from Vice about getting access to concert venues, here I also should have said Happy Holidays at some point so I'll get that in under the wire, too. I'll also wish all of us a happier new year, even as we all know capitalism is the problem and not some obscure form of 2025-ium. Right?(or Left?  I guess.)

Always nice to see cultural acknowledgement, even if I found it buried among the dross on Facebook, that we can, and should, have fun, even if part of me is also wondering, like many a comment scold, whether or not we have Bigger Problems(TM) Although my friend Victor, for one, has written a lot about finding partners from either attending concerts or playing in music spaces, so maybe lack of access can be tantamount to a nationwide loss of consortium, ie, America is cock-blocking us. (Junk-blocking?  Not cool, Uncle Sam.)

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

"I'll Be Ready In A Nanosecond,"

 

I had another post somewhat prepared when I decided to give the Alice Wong-edited “Disability Intimacy” another read to see if maybe I related more. (Maybe I’ll publish the other post eventually—nobody is really that eager for a post about how you might actually like a twelve-year-old movie about ALS.  Maybe I’ll just say that I think Emmy Rossum and Hilary Swank are amazing actresses here and let that one lie.) I read Alice’s editor essay about how she hadn’t been on a date—for some people, I do hope there is an afterlife and that it is truly hopping—and I was struck by the sentence quoted as my title, here “I would be ready in a nanosecond. “And it struck me that, even though I haven’t struggled as much as Alice and even had a few (too few, but that has been a post for way too many days) opportunities for certain things, I’m not built like that

. Maybe there have always been too many steps, too many hurdles to climb. Sometimes even saying “Yes!” feels like it requires a flowchart.  Not that there have been many enthusiastic “Yeses” in my life of late; I’m feeling kind of estranged from everything that I thought might have served as an answer at one time or another and the most painful part is that it’s not because a bunch of shiny new answers have arrived to overwrite the previous ones. I don’t even have a My Show anymore, except to say that streaming “Psych” is fun and I shouldn’t have missed it on USA years ago. But I guess it is here for me now and that is something, but even that little flicker of joy pales compared to the reams of passionate postings another departed friend wrote about some show that featured love between gay pirates that I would probably never watch in a billion years(For all the things and people we did have in common, sometimes we were resolutely different people.) I found myself thinking that people who loved me probably didn’t pull that much emotion from me, and right now, that might be true, but given that I once wrote a 70-page crossover fan-fiction novella, it probably wasn’t always true.  I’d like to blame #MAGA, but that is probably too easy.

Maybe I still don’t trust people, despite abandoning certain true-crime tendencies after I found myself…heated up while watching programming like “Killer Couples” and “Snapped “and feeling badly about myself.  Some of my enthusiasm for life may, in fact, be missing, and I’m not sure how Alice could struggle so much harder and keep such a firm grip on joy and hope for the future and reaching acceptance of tough things that seems like it felt other than plodding.

Looking for a dare-to-be great situation.
I’ll try to be ready in a few nanoseconds.