#t irl

Remembering the Radium Girls, Ottawa, IL.

The dichotomy of the open road.

New:

Hemlock and Silver - T. Kingfisher (the loosest snow white adaptation. t. kingfisher never misses for me.) The Play - Elle Kennedy (might have been my favorite of the briar u series) The Bookshop: A History of the American Bookstore - Evan Friss (history via the bookstore: very, very cool) The Typewriter and the Guillotine: An American Journalist, A German Serial Killer, and Paris on the Eve of WWII - Mark Braude (this had a lot of my special interests all in one - loved) How Not to Fall for a Dragon - Kit Bryan (totally another novel from shitty fb ads, but fun brain candy)

Rereads:

New:

Speak - Laurie Halse Anderson (saw on B&N banned books table; poignant and powerful) How to Hide an Empire: A History of the Greater United States - Daniel Immerwahr (the more I learn about history - specifically American history - the more I want to facepalm. but also: if Bad Bunny made you interested in Puerto Rican history ... pick this up) Wolf Girl - Leia Stone (... first of four. not sure if I'll continue.) Everyone in this Bank Is a Thief - Benjamin Stevenson (... fourth in a series and probably my least favorite so far, tbh) The Indifferent Stars Above: The Harrowing Saga of the Donner Party - Daniel James Brown (Donner Party as told via the perspective of a 21yo female survivor. Ooof.) Nobody's Girl: A Memoir of Surviving Abuse and Fighting for Justice - Virginia Roberts Giuffre (... a reminder that we still haven't had any more arrests from the Epstein files. Second tough read in a row)

Rereads:

I've always wanted to go - had meant to go when I lived in the 303, had wanted to do the Big Gay 5K as a way of feeling more like I belonged (at least as a runner), but never did.

Partly (mostly) because of feeling like I wouldn't belong. But also because of crowds, and anxiety, and okay, mostly feeling like an other.

Even though I'm technically not.

Let me back up.

I'm straight. I'm not attracted to women. But if we're also being honest, I'm rarely truly attracted to men, too (beyond appreciating people aesthetically - "this person is objectively gorgeous but I am not attracted to them"). If I count how many serious crushes I've had, where I've been attracted enough to daydream about the guy (that's when you know it is V Serious for me) ... it's not many.

(... let's actually think about this ... d.s., j.a., c.o'd., m.r., k.f., technically d.v.g. and b.s. and, well ... that might be it. also not including fictional characters. although that doesn't add a lot more to the list.)

(we are also not including the three men I've seriously dated (the last of whom I married).)

And even with these men, I very rarely - if ever - fantasized about them sexually. Like I didn't think of sucking their dicks or being railed by them or ... whatever.

I've never been all that comfortable talking about sex (fuck, I felt embarrassed even saying the damn word up until almost high school even when in an academic context (the sex of the animal is ...)), but I mostly blamed that on the Catholic upbringing and the Catholic schools.

However, I've also always been incredibly intrigued by sex. From reading scenes in my mother's romance novels that I probably should not have been reading at that age, to being curious about my own body, to watching the old softcore porn that used to be on cable TV late at night, to random sex scenes in movies ... it all fascinated me. And I would get physically aroused, yes, but in my brain? I didn't automatically think Yes. I need to do That.

I wasn't allowed to date until I was 16, but I also didn't much care about that. I went to an all girls high school and most of the girls dated boys from the all boys high school (which is now both genders) which I guess I could have done but my brother also went to that high school and I knew teenage boys and ... ew. Not interested. A few also worked in the after school care job I did and apparently one had a crush on me ... but I never knew. Or cared.

(I am notoriously terrible at knowing if someone is flirting with me.)

So I didn't bother dating until I went to college. Where most of the general population had already been having sex for years. My first pseudo-boyfriend was someone I met at the hockey rink (... go figure ...) and, as I found out much later that year, was still in love with the goalie on my club team I joined, making me essentially a rebound (though we didn't have sex. which was undoubtedly part of the reason why things didn't go anywhere ... that, and i found out through the ancient days of open diary that he slept with another one of my teammates while we were ... i don't even know. details are fuzzy but it was like 25 years ago okay?). Sophomore year was when I first started dating someone - long-distance - and eventually I did have sex. And yeah, sure, it felt good, but it wasn't earth-shattering.

Truthfully, I didn't get the hype.

Beyond that, though, I always felt on the outside of conversations about sex. About encounters, about experiences. And yet paradoxically, I was more comfortable regarding sex in other ways. Sure, I may not have had it with a lot of people, but I'd been to sex shops and felt ... if not wholly comfortable, perhaps neutral? Which we can thank a high school friend's mom for as she took us as we looked for things to wear to go to Rocky Horror showings. I also read a lot of erotica and started probably in college, so taboos? Kinks? I may not be interested in them myself, but I knew of them.

Being on a women's hockey team, I was also around a lot of queer women. Some lesbians, for sure, but also quite a few just liked kissing other girls. So, when senior year rolled around and a new player on the team was being a bit homophobic, a plot was hatched for a party that this person would be invited to and everyone would be kissing everyone else. I was told about this but not invited because it was known I wouldn't be comfortable kissing other girls.

(as it turns out, this person was actually incredibly gay herself and was actually thrilled to be in such a supportive atmosphere, as it goes. and I got hit on by an athlete friend of hers at another school via fb messages though i didn't see the response until months later due to it being in my message request folder. to this day i regret not responding in some way at least thanking them for the compliment.)

So life went on and I'd still feel incredibly awkward whenever the conversation turned into sex and sexual partners and how much people said they craved sex and I would just silently sit there and not contribute to the conversation at all wondering does everyone seriously have a body count so high? is this really normal?

And I got married and yes I have sex now and while I have to get myself in the mental mood for it I do enjoy it physically (and sometimes my body actually needs it as I am a weird special snowflake with a rare condition called Persistent Genital Arousal Disorder and I stfg that if my brain were different I'd be in porn since my nether regions are almost fucking built for it).

And I also got into some internet rabbit hole at some point and learned about the term demisexual.

And then I read up more on asexuality in general and finally realized ... wait. This is me.

I hate labels, but sometimes, they're helpful to learn if only to realize you're not alone.

So when I learned that the husband's company sponsors Pride here and they have their own "float" (position in the parade) and you can volunteer to be a part of it last year ... I asked if he wouldn't mind doing it this year. He agreed.

Not a lot of pilots tend to show up, so not only was he one of the token pilots, he may have also been the token straight. Showing up was a leap out of his comfort zone too, but I'm grateful he went, that he enjoyed himself, and that he said he's up for doing it again next year.

I think that volunteering to march/walk in the parade was truly the best way for me to experience my first Pride since it helped that I could have my own space.

And friends, it was fucking magical.

I wore my ace dragon earrings and necklace, my Pride No Prejudice goodrs, a rainbow skirt. I put on rainbow glitter sparkle freckles and chalked rainbows on both my arms. I carried a fan that said "Safe Hug Zone" that I bought from a favorite gay creator on IG (Emile's Snack Shop).

I cried a little at the beginning, but mostly I just felt joy. So much joy. I gained leis and bracelets and stickers from people in the crowd and hugged whoever opened their arms and gestured me over. We stayed at the end to watch more of the parade (we were the eighth "float" to go out of over 100) and I got even more hugs.

I laughed at my husband pointing out (accurately) that all the Queens rock high heels so much better than I do and that I should ask for tips.

I saw the best sign, Sharpie on cardboard, saying something along the lines of "No AI was used in the making of this sign."

I've heard people complain about Pride lately, how it's gotten too corporate, and though I've never been before, I could see that. How some of the corporate sponsors seem a little ... iffy and performative (Goldman Sachs? Really?). But at the same time, if not for said corporate sponsors, these big city Prides might not be able to exist.

Multiple things can be true at once.

I'm also so incredibly grateful that I didn't see anything negative the whole time I was there, even though it was Sunday in a state where most places are always closed that day and our governor declared June Fidelity Month.

And Pride may be a protest, but for one day, it can also be a source of joy, and belonging, and a day where you truly can be your most authentic self.

New:

Ella Minnow Pea - Mark Dunn The Chase - Elle Kennedy The Antique Hunter's Murder at the Castle - C. L. Miller The Risk - Elle Kennedy One Game at a Time: My Journey from a Small Town to Hockey's Biggest Stage - Harnarayan Singh

Rereads:

Today is two years of being a fanfic author (still solely in the Empyrean fandom).