Strength.

"Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look there."
- Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

First, let me start by saying a giant "amen, brotha" to my greek homeboy.

It's amazing how much strength women have. Our bodies are made for pain - the pain of our uterus contracting every month on the nose, the pain of childbirth (even if you haven't gone through it, like I have, imagine something that size coming from something your size - it hurts), the emotional pain we put ourselves through every single day in order to fit in... pain is a daily occurrence in the life of a woman.

And yet we stand here today. Strong. Capable. Powerful. Resilient.

It's a feat of nature, one that men couldn't possibly match. For me, as a bisexual woman, it makes women all that more amazing. When I'm with a man, it's kind of like being the little wifey. They attempt to "out man" you, whether they mean to or not, and the "woman" status is one that is accepted without fanfare or appreciation. When I'm with a woman, we can both grow and be strong. Learn. It's a beautiful gift.

So today, appreciate your greatness. Your strength. You owe that to yourself because another gift/curse of being a woman is our complete inability to know just how great we are.

I'm tired, yet something inside me won't allow me rest just yet. My fingers tap-tap on the keyboard of their own volition, haunted and frantic, my eyes scanning to find their meaning and rhythm.

There's a chill in the apartment and, despite being in a long sleeved button-up and a sweater, I find myself still needing the warmth of a fleece blanket. Although I'm naturally cold, I feel a specific wintery shiver even with the thermostat humming to keep the temperature at 75.

This is a silence and a noise, a feeling and a mindset that is not unfamiliar to me. Writing, creating, needing space and time and a muse before rest will come... it's an old friend that contends me as much as she exhausts me.

She's the friend I put off calling for months, only to find life so much more beautiful with her in it. The friend who, even though you may not talk often, still knows you like the back of her hand. Those friends, unlike some that inhabit my day-to-day life, are always loyal and always welcome.

She's sated for the evening, warm and fat on creative milk, and I believe she'll allow me sleep. I'm going to take that opportunity before the window closes...

Let it snow.

It's amazing how such a small thing, like a thin coat of powdery white snow, can change a person's outlook on life. The first snow of the season is a transformative thing, allowing us to reevaluate and reprocess scenery that has become secondhand through the rest of the year. A small layer of ice on a tree turns it into diamonds. Watching a rabbit bounce across the field behind your house fills you with an almost unbearable amount of holiday spirit and glee.

I love winter. I hate the cold, but I love the season. I would stay in my house, bundled in my white cashmere security blanket, all day long with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book. In fact, that's what I'm going to do today. Screw work. *grin*

Flaws.

I wish I were prettier. It's the plain and simple, yet somehow crass, truth. Some people wish for wealth, that they would never have to worry about finances again. Others wish for success, notoriety, fame. I wish that I were prettier.

There is a condition that I was made away of a few years ago called Body Dysmorphic Disorder. I dismissed it immediately, equating it in my head with the picture of tall, beautiful blond women looking at themselves in the mirror and pinching imaginary fat. But my flaws are more apparent than that, at least to me. I'm short. I have a front tooth that sticks out further than the other. I have stretchmarks and excess weight after having my daughter.

I feel like I have a scarlet letter around my neck, that everyone sees me and immediately sees what's wrong with me.

I know it's ridiculous, but it's true.

The smell of freshly cut pine fills our apartment, creeping down the hallway in curls, hitting us in random pockets. Our nostrils expand, slowly in and slowly out, our eyes shutting in ecstatic holiday joy. Christmas has finally come into my spirit, I thought to myself, as I caught a kiss from my partner under the tree last night.

Our ornaments, shiny and pristine from their eleven month cardboard hibernation, glitter and sparkle in front of brightly colored lights. Hot cocoa is made, the warm milk scented steam drifting off the top of the mug in patterns and waves.

I am alive. I am chilly, my fingertips numb from the cold, but I am happy.

Hello, was it me you're looking for?

I'm alive! I'm awake! I'm able to sit down at the computer and do things other than figure out what my main character is going to do and why and how to make zombies even cooler and more interesting!

NaNoWriMo is over and I survived, although I'm not sure my sanity is intact.

*cackles incoherantly*

Writing 1,667 words a day, roughly, was tough as hell but it really made me focus on writing in a more gut it out, pro-athlete training sort of way and less of the flittery butterfly do it when I feel like doing it way that I've been approaching it.

Writing is my life and I'm never going to make anything of it if I don't take it seriously.

So I'll be flexing my writing muscles more and more on this site and, because of that, expect this space to become less linear and a little more hippie commune, do what feels rightish.

But I'm back. I'm here. I may write about my life or some fiction. I may just give you my opinion on current events. But I will be here.

Really?! Really?!

Beating of a gay man a possible hate crime.

(New York) New York City police say a 49-year-old gay man leaving a corner deli near his home was beaten by two men in an apparent hate crime.

Price remains in a medically induced coma. He is in serious but stable condition.

Police say the two suspects taunted Price and yelled anti-gay slurs while he was in the store early Friday. They attacked him outside, not far from his home in the middle-class Queens neighborhood of College Point.

Twenty-six-year-old Daniel Aleman was arrested Sunday and charged with assault and aggravated assault as a hate crime. The name of his attorney was not on record.

A second suspect is being sought. The police department’s Hate Crimes Task Force is investigating.

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Seriously, people?! What in the hell is it going to take for people to open their eyes? They say we don't need specific laws to protect us. That's like saying black people didn't need specific laws to protect them from being lynched. It's absurb. Gay people are the victims of harassment, verbal AND physical, every single day. How could they possibly say this wasn't a hate crime? Do they randomly go around people straight people up yelling "faggot"? To say I'm angry is an understatement. I'm furious.

Wake up, people. Wake the hell up. This is why we need equal rights. One of the speakers at the National Equality March said that our not having equal rights makes us a target, that is sends the message that we are less than whole people and should be targets for victimization.

This solidifies it.