In Memory of Luscious

I found out a couple of weeks ago that a former sweetheart of mine passed away. It was very sudden. We do not know why (beyond knowing that it was not foul play), nor do we know if we will find out why.

I have been in a lot of shock and denial about it. I also believe that the stories that are hardest to tell are the most important to share, so I thought I would put down my thoughts and remembrances.

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Help Me Get a Talk Show! Also, Rebel Cupcake!

I am involved in a really exciting contest! Sometimes my friends call me the Queer Oprah, because within five minutes of meeting someone I'll get their life story. And my career goal to have a talk show. Well, Oprah herself is having a contest to pick the next talk show star for her new network, OWN.

It took a lot of work, but I submitted my entry and am on a mission to get 100,000 votes by Saturday, when the voting ends.

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In Solidarity With Those Who Have Been Called “Too Much”

I've been called too much my entire life--too fat, too loud, too feminine, too "lipstick" when I first came out, too expressive, too blah blah blah blah blah.

I hate it. I love big and I always express myself. When I am excited about something I get louder, and I really like to be excited. I am effusive in my praise of people, and when I'm with someone in a romantic context I can make them feel like the only person in the room. I've been told this by multiple partners, which is why I tend to date Leos. I have also been told that I am a lot different than people expect by a lot of lovers.

I LOVE romance. I really enjoy giving and receiving special attention and courtship. I am so not the kind of girl who can play aloof--I just don't have time or inclination to pretend to be something I am not. If I can "take it or leave it" I'll just leave it.

I was told by someone I went on a couple of dates with that I was "a lot to get used to." It brought up a lot for me--I had so much rage around being told that and it took me a few weeks to unpack. It felt like being told I was too much, even though I know that wasn't the intention.

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Additions to the Queer Lexicography: Identifying Your Emotions Edition

The Days of Fried Chicken and Deviled Eggs. I use this term to describe that beginning courtship phase when people do sweet things to woo you. It is in reference to an actual girl who wooed me by making me amazing meals involving both of those things. Several weeks later, she stopped the wooing without explanation. I kept hanging on, waiting for The Days of Fried Chicken and Deviled Eggs to resume. What I didn't realize was that she was showing me another aspect of her personality, though I was having a hard time adjusting to this new version of her when I liked the TDOFC&DE version so much more than the one that was ignoring me.

It is my belief that the Days of Fried Chicken and Deviled Eggs should never cease--a relationship needs to involve a certain amount of continuous courtship. Courtship does not require a great deal of energy, just a little thoughtfulness. (Check out the FemmeCast episode on courtship for some great ideas and guidance.)

"It is really difficult to do, but I need to move on. Now that The Days of Fried Chicken and Deviled Eggs have ended I am not being treated very well, and I deserve to be cherished. My feelings for her are strong, but my feelings for me are stronger."

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Winter is Style Phobic

Let's be real--winter is just plain stylephobic. It's a lot harder to be cute in the cold, what with all of the layering and the arduous task of putting on coats, gloves, hats, and special shoes just to leave your house. I grew up in California and didn't experience my first real winter until I was 21. A decade later I'm still not over the novelty and annoyance.

I have come up with some ideas as to how to inject style and sass into your winter blah blah blahs for not a lot of money.

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Turning Rage Into Productivity: Transgender Day of Remembrance

In case you haven't heard, there were two brutal murders of queer people of color this week (details below). The same week as Transgender Day of Remembrance. I can't really articulate my feelings, mostly, they are a mix of rage, overwhelm, sadness, grief, irritation and helplessness--a lot of crying while reading twitter. I also can't believe shit like this is still happening. Matthew Shepard was murdered over a decade ago. I remember those vigils, but for some reason these hit closer to home. Maybe it's because I have been out of the closet so much longer, maybe it is because more of my friends and lovers are gender nonconforming now. Maybe I am more wholly in my body and self so I feel entitled to express the rage in my heart when it happens instead of dissociating.

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Additions to the Queer Lexicography: Polyamory Edition

Side Dish: An apt way to describe a special lover who is not your main lover or partner. As further explicated by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha when I threw the term around her the other day: "You can enjoy a meaty entrée on its own, but how much better is it with a delicious side of greens or okra? Giving you vitamins and tastes that you just don’t get with the main dish. Making both taste more delightful in the mouth. How lovely."

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