Monday, October 17, 2011

I'M BACK BITCHES!!!

So this isn't going to be a normal "Vic" post but I just wanted to let you all know that I am back from New Orleans.  Got here safely.  Had a ton of fun in New Orleans (there are people with photographic evidence to back that up-LOL), there was a few bad moments, but they were separate from GRL and totally connected just to me, but I was rescued by a Greyhound attendant (I'll blog about Dre' tomorrow) who is now one of my "boys."  There was only one very bad, horrible, heartbreaking moment at GRL when I was insulted by an author in front of everyone, but *shrugs* I found out that I have so many friends and now new sisters, mothers, brothers, to back me up that the sting from that hurt, that rejection, that insult and humiliation was almost completely erased.  Almost.

Anyway.  I'm back in Florida and already making plans to save up money for next year's GRL in Albuquerque, New Mexico, in October (18-21: Hard Rock Cafe Casino & Hotel).  I want ALL OF YOU to come so start saving up your money now!!  If you do $50 a month you'll have $600 saved up by October. Everyone can do atleast $50 a month right?  And you won't even NEED that much!  LOL.  Well unless you plan on shopping.....

Anyway, I'll blog tomorrow about GRL and post the pictures I took and some from others, tell you about Dre' from Greyhound, and even about getting my heart broken by an author I used to enjoy.

I did miss you guys, I miss my family from GRL now though. {sad face}

Here's a poem that TangledO from Goodreads sent to me.  It made me cry (but in a good way).  Enjoy!


"How to Make Love to a Trans Person"
by Gabe Moses

Forget the images you’ve learned to attach
To words like cock and clit,
Chest and breasts.
Break those words open
Like a paramedic cracking ribs
To pump blood through a failing heart.
Push your hands inside.
Get them messy.
Scratch new definitions on the bones.

Get rid of the old words altogether.
Make up new words.
Call it a click or a ditto.
Call it the sound he makes
When you brush your hand against it through his jeans,
When you can hear his heart knocking on the back of his teeth
And every cell in his body is breathing.
Make the arch of her back a language
Name the hollows of each of her vertebrae
When they catch pools of sweat
Like rainwater in a row of paper cups
Align your teeth with this alphabet of her spine
So every word is weighted with the salt of her.

When you peel layers of clothing from his skin
Do not act as though you are changing dressings on a trauma patient
Even though it’s highly likely that you are.
Do not ask if she’s “had the surgery.”
Do not tell him that the needlepoint bruises on his thighs look like they hurt
If you are being offered a body
That has already been laid upon an altar of surgical steel
A sacrifice to whatever gods govern bodies
That come with some assembly required
Whatever you do,
Do not say that the carefully sculpted landscape
Bordered by rocky ridges of scar tissue
Looks almost natural.

If she offers you breastbone
Aching to carve soft fruit from its branches
Though there may be more tissue in the lining of her bra
Than the flesh that rises to meet it
Let her ripen in your hands.
Imagine if she’d lost those swells to cancer,
Diabetes,
A car accident instead of an accident of genetics
Would you think of her as less a woman then?
Then think of her as no less one now.

If he offers you a thumb-sized sprout of muscle
Reaching toward you when you kiss him
Like it wants to go deep enough inside you
To scratch his name on the bottom of your heart
Hold it as if it can-
In your hand, in your mouth
Inside the nest of your pelvic bones.
Though his skin may hardly do more than brush yours,
You will feel him deeper than you think.

Realize that bodies are only a fraction of who we are
They’re just oddly-shaped vessels for hearts
And honestly, they can barely contain us
We strain at their seams with every breath we take
We are all pulse and sweat,
Tissue and nerve ending
We are programmed to grope and fumble until we get it right.
Bodies have been learning each other forever.
It’s what bodies do.
They are grab bags of parts
And half the fun is figuring out
All the different ways we can fit them together;
All the different uses for hipbones and hands,
Tongues and teeth;
All the ways to car-crash our bodies beautiful.
But we could never forget how to use our hearts
Even if we tried.
That’s the important part.
Don’t worry about the bodies.
They’ve got this. 

5 comments:

  1. ~Wipes at her eyes~ Oh dear lord I cried while reading the poem but oh wow and you have got to tell us more about GRL and I am sooo going to try to save up for next years GRL!

    So got to love you and give you a lot of kisses soon but you know something I gotta save up for a whole bunch of stuff!

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  2. tangled0 from goodreadsOctober 17, 2011 at 11:32 PM

    Glad you had such a good time. Can't wait to hear about it. Was it exciting to see Jack after a week apart?

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  3. Welcome back!! I've some pics come through and I've picked up on some stories. Including one author who got some local man flavor. LOL I couldn't do it this year because of so many commitments. But I will be with you at GRL next year!!

    And I'd love to know which author was beyond stupid. Cause I need to make sure that I don't buy their books again.

    What a beautiful poem!

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  4. Welcome back, I missed you so much.

    ...and whoever was this author I want to kick his/her ass!!!

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  5. *leaving lurker mode*

    Thank you for posting that poem, it's beautiful and now I'm in tears.

    I'm very sorry to hear about this author that humiliated you. I never expected something like that to happen at GRL!

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