Orphan Black is back, y’all, and I am practically catatonic with fear/excitement. To get you in the mood to make crazy science, I’ve rounded up about a
billion Cosima/Delphine fics. Some of the stories are one-shots; some of them are portals to dozens more Cophine ficlets. There’s enough sweetness and smut to keep you occupied far beyond tomorrow night’s season three premiere on BBC America. YOU’RE WELCOME.
Sometimes when people talk about the universe and its interaction in their life, it sounds too similar to the way people speak about being blessed or right with God, as if hardship comes from not honoring the galaxy every night or lighting enough Virgen de Guadalupe candles. No really and truly sometimes life fucks with you. Sometimes that grant that funded most of your department falls through, sometimes the white guy you work for just doesn’t think you’re good enough to continue, sometimes the universe makes you fall.
So you fall. I fell. I am falling.
And here’s where I have to take a pause.
I am pretty mad I don’t have my first novel published yet but I’ve been doing real good work on making the memories and material to go in it so I just gotta sit down and open a vein. I hope you’re ready. I’m not sure I am…
Surely every queer generation has been through this — this looking at the world around us and marveling at how different it is than the one we expected as kids and even as twentysomethings. So this is our time.
What does it mean to be a queer adult? Who the f*ck are we? Let’s find out.
I just let go a lot in my thirties, personally. I couldn’t wait to be 30 because I felt like people would finally start taking me seriously. I think that did happen, a little, but surprisingly, passing the 30 mark let me take myself less seriously. I no longer feel like I’m sitting on a ticking bomb. I have patience now. I just have less fucks to give, too. I care less what people think and I demand to be respected instead of worrying about whether or not I am (and believe it or not, that actually works). I still have idealist radical politics, but I have more focus and pragmatism. I am slowly changing out my heels for sensible flats. I’m more forgiving and less quick to judge. I have less tolerance for straight-up BS. Time is racing by and I can finally imagine a future beyond the next five years.
Since I turned 30, I have felt an urgent, unyielding, existential tug on my mind asking and asking and asking if I’m using the quick breath of life I have on this earth to do something that counts. Every day — sometimes multiple times a day — I ask myself, ‘If I get smashed by a car today, will I have given all the goodness I had to give?’ I want to die broke from spending goodness. I don’t want any goodness left in the bank. I want to have splurged on the world. On cats and dogs and panda bears and the people I love and the people I barely know and the planet itself.
I didn’t want to go to brunch with my friends. I didn’t want to go to the grocery store to get milk. I didn’t want to Skype with my grandmother. I didn’t want to have sex with the woman who looks at me like she’s the east and I’m the sun.
It wasn’t just what the messages said that chipped away at me; it was the fact that they existed at all. My entire professional writing career has been about making the world better and brighter and warmer for queer women. Queer women don’t call each other fugly dykes! Or maybe they do.
The Lesbian Sex Survey
— open to all female-identified folks who have sex with other
female-identified folks — garnered 8,566 complete responses (and another
7,000 incompletes), of which 89% came from people between the ages of
18 and 36. In addition to asking about the sex you have with other
humans, we had quite a few questions about the sex you have with
yourself. Let’s get into it.
Honestly ladies, the more I get into this data, the more it seems to me that pretty much every stereotype about lesbian sexuality is nonsense and we’re actually very sexually active, very sexually adventurous and very sexually preoccupied. It’s a loose hypothesis for now, and of course we realize the implicit bias of a voluntary survey, but we’re gonna dig into it and see what we can find.
For now, we know simply this: y’all love yourself, it’s not a sin, you can’t control what’s happening, ’cause you just discovered, imagination’s taking over, another day with (or without) a lover, the more you come to understand the touch of your hand. You feel me?
This week’s Friday Open Thread is all about gettin’ zen with your bad self. Get in here!
We share your concern about its potentially devastating effects on the lives of transgender as well as gay, lesbian, bisexual and queer youth… As part of our dedication to protecting America’s youth, this administration supports efforts to ban the use of conversion therapy for minors.
My Dinah mission was not to party, but to go on an adventure. In three days I crossed four big items off my bucket list: camping under an eclipse, Dinah, Salvation Mountain, and the Salton Sea.
This is a photo diary you won’t wanna miss. It’s good for your eyeballs! Promise.
Button and Bly, the lesbian travel show of probably your dreams, is coming back for their third season as part of a collaboration with Autostraddle, website of your dreams! And they’re starting back home by taking you around Los Angeles.
