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Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
carmenrios
i remember when i was broke and i ate ramen six times a week with frozen spinach and onions and i remember that porch i lived in with no air conditioner where every morning i felt like i was looking out at a city that i didn’t live in and i remember crying to my mom on the phone and my bank on the phone and the water company on the phone and i remember that i hosted that brunch and i had to ask riese for money just for eggs and cheese and i remember the time marina and amanda paid my bill at the looking glass and i remember drinking leftover vodka from parties during the week and i remember it all, i really do, and i remember that it was hard but i also remember that i survived. i survived. i made it. i got out. i went on. i lived in amanda’s living room and they took my dog away and i would cry when i went to visit him and i would watch wes anderson movies on the big tv downstairs because my computer’s disc drive was broken and i couldn’t afford to replace anything and sometimes i fell asleep applying for jobs and i remember stealing from the grocery store and i also remember getting on that plane. i remember i had almost no money to my name when i bought the tickets: $129, round trip. i remember i took the bus to bwi because i couldn’t afford a super shuttle with a heavy suitcase in my hand the entire time and that i cried at every tarmac. there was a time i did what wasn’t justified and it opened up my heart and i bled and i dropped my phone in the toilet and i felt like i was born again or a little more naked or a little more light.
these are a bunch of things i remember, but never told anyone else. yes, they’re from my secret tumblr. no, you’ve never heard / read them ever. (via carmenrios)
personal essay
Tired of snow, tired of cold, tired of waiting, tired of blankets, tired of sweaters, tired of pants, I miss dresses and I don’t even wear them, my hair is too long, this music is sad, I’m bored, lately I feel bankrupt, I really wish it was warm outside, I miss my air conditioner humming, I miss long sessions with the sun, I miss iced coffee, I miss sweat, sometimes I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out alive.
These are excerpts from Carmen’s super-secret Tumblr. (And she’s never read them at A-Camp.)
queer personal essay excerpts from my super-secret diary autostraddle carmen rios personal
So I’m here to tell you what I wish I’d known when I was planning my life with my high school boyfriend: everything counts. If you were to break up with your girlfriend tomorrow, the relationship would not have been a waste of time. Relationships are successful when they teach us something, when they ultimately (though likely not immediately) leave us different and better than we were when we started.
Ali, You Need Help: You Don’t Agree With Your Best Friend’s Advice
Has anyone told you lately that soon there may be no bananas left? This is not a drill, y’all. I eat like five to twelve bananas a week and I have got to tell you that this is serious fucking business and even though this claim is most likely already...

Has anyone told you lately that soon there may be no bananas left? This is not a drill, y’all. I eat like five to twelve bananas a week and I have got to tell you that this is serious fucking business and even though this claim is most likely already debunked on snopes.com, I’m determined to live out the rest of my days in homage to the greatest fruit there ever has been in my life: the super-filling, embarrassingly phallic, amazingly satisfying banana.

55 Banana Recipes to Make Before Bananas Go Extinct or Whatever

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quirkyrican

Two nights ago I turned in the final final final final edit of Juliet Takes a Breath to my publisher. I think I had like seven mild attacks of panic and spiritual heart failure before I clicked send.

Who the f*ck do I think I am trying to publish a book? I’ve been navigating impostor syndrome, a full-time job, all the edits, some unexpected health issues, and the chaos of New York City all in anticipation of its release. It hasn’t been easy. It makes me want to hide and pretend like I didn’t write a book at all, like maybe I just tried to do a thing and then hahaha, nevermind.

That voice tho, I need to check that voice in 2016.

If I can’t love and support my work, then who can? Who will? No one.

I worked at Strand bookstore for like half a second last year in the YA section. I’ll never forget the day that two young queer Latinas came in asking why there wasn’t enough L in the LGBT section. And homegirl was like, “And by L, I mean lesbian and latina, there isn’t shit about us in that section.” That interaction gave me so much fuel to keep pushing through to finish this book and gave me reason to feel strong in my sense of purpose, because those two girls should have a million books to choose from, not just mine.

There’s no room to be shy, or to doubt myself. There is only room to put Juliet Takes a Breath out into the world and set her free.

I’m going to write more about this whole book writing thang in an upcoming piece for Autostraddle! (So keep your eyes and ears glued to your phones, per ushe.) But I wanted to drop some love here and some words about what’s going on.

Some graphics were made:

And I made a video in the freezing ass cold for you! No edits because like ugh.

And if you’re still curious, here’s a fucking excerpt. Don’t say I never gave you nothing.

(Actually, I love you and I hope you like it.)

I’ve got a secret. I think it’s going to kill me. Sometimes I hope it does. How do I tell my parents that I’m gay? Gay sounds just as weird as feminist. How do you tell the people that breathed you into existence that you’re the opposite of what they want you to be? And I’m supposed to be ashamed of being gay, but now that I’ve had sex with other girls, I don’t feel any shame at all. In fact, it’s pretty fucking amazing. So how am I supposed to come out and deal with everyone else’s sadness? “Sin Vergüenza Comes Out, Is Banished From Family.” That’s the headline. You did this to me. I wasn’t gonna come out. I was just gonna be that family member who’s gay and no one ever talks about it even though EVERYONE knows they share a bed with their “roommate.” Now everything is different.  

How am I supposed to be this honest? I know you’re not a Magic 8 Ball. You’re just some lady that wrote a book. I fall asleep with that book in my arms because words protect hearts and I’ve got this ache in my chest that won’t go away. I read Raging Flower and now I dream of raised fists and solidarity marches led by matriarchs fueled by café con leche where I can march alongside cigar-smoking doñas and Black Power dykes and all the world’s weirdos and no one is left out. And no one is living a lie.

Aight, enough, there’s more to come.

Stay warm out there, babes.

Yo, I wrote a book! Two nights ago I turned in the final final final final edit of Juliet Takes a Breath…

fuckyeahautostraddle

buy gabby’s book!

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We all have intersecting identities and oppressions and privileges playing into our experiences and identities — but intersectionality doesn’t just address those individually complex identities. It also sets a foundation for cultural change in which people see other people as more nuanced and complex, and less defined by just one aspect of their experience. And in that way, intersectionality theory also demands more of feminism and other social movements based around components of identity. It demands that we carve out bigger spaces and make room for broader experiences, and that we stand in solidarity with people in our community who have different experiences than we do.
Carmen via Rebel Girls: What We’re Talking About When We Talk About Intersectionality (via fuckyeahautostraddle)
carmenrios

welcome to camp autostraddle

  • Carmen: A-Camp does something to me. It’s like the mountain air, the slightly less caffeinated coffee that enables me to drink coffee throughout the day, and being surrounded by all the people I love working with but never get to make slushies with using frozen popsicles as a foundation really wakes me the fuck up.
  • Rory: That morning, like every morning of camp, slutshack rose at 5am or something to the husky cackle of Carmen Rios.
  • Laura Wooley: On Friday morning, I woke up and threw open my cabin door to take in the great outdoors and was instantly bombarded with the very loud, very joyous sound of Carmen laughing.
  • Kai: The first moment I realized I was a lone West Coast wolf surrounded by an East Coast wolf pack was when I was shoving a pillow over my head trying to keep out Carmen’s cackles and basic sunlight.
  • Laura W: It was like a joke in a sitcom, except it was my real life.
  • Carmen: Everyone in my end of the cabin kept waking up simultaneously, just like we would fall asleep simultaneously!
Source: autostraddle.com