How It Started
How It’s Going
Well, I wrote the damn thing. Because people going #NoHomo and #NoCuteAllowed in fandom and dunking on fanfic writers compels me to be As Homo and Obnoxious As Possible. Besides, this was an excuse to write some cozy cutefic– Coffeeshop AUs is a not-guilty-at-all pleasure of mine. First installment is below, because you know there’s gonna be more of this silly shit.
So, after a hiatus, I went back to streaming this year! I’m having fun, as per usual, and I even modified my model a little more. But uh, I’m avoiding closeups because I need to tighten and smooth out edges; you can see seams and it’s pretty rough. Not to mention finalizing my outfit: I want to keep it simple, but I’d like to nail down a shirt design.
Scheduling and Playing
My biggest hurdle is still, scheduling. Not only do I need to account for plans I have in meatspace, but I have to consider my energy level. I’ve canceled or postponed streams because I needed to rest, and that’s either because I don’t get enough sleep (insomniac life!) or worn down from the rest of my schedule.
I’ve been playing a LOT of ValiDATE, and while I enjoy it it is a lot of reading! After a while I just get tongue tied. Last week or so I played APICO for a change of pace, with Twitch approved lofi in the background. That is an amazingly chill combo that I should do more.
OBS is Intimidating
I have it downloaded… but not installed. HOWEVER, I’ve finally began using VTopia as backup storage for my streams– Twitch only keeps them for a week, and sometimes I either forget to download them or I have trouble doing so. Because I have a potty mouth and talk about ADULT STUFF, I flagged most of my vlogs as Mature Content– that’d explain the sparse page. There is another channel, for some reason. There’s where OBS will come in.
Also, cap my damn FPS at 60. Anything more and my poor hardware freaks out.
The Lore, you Say?
I’ve also been muddling about with the lore. With the rise of AI tools taking people’s jobs and committing plagiarism, I’ve half a mind to move away from the self-aware AI bit. But… it’s so cool– I mean "real" artificial intelligence, of the science fiction actually-self-aware sort. While I’ve been dipping my toe in the water of vt.social, I’ve come across other AIs, programs or computers personified, and even a rad calculator! Concepts are awesome, and I suppose I need to solidify my own spin on the AI thing. Being around other VTubers is inspiring, as usual!
So, yes, the sentient AI thing is still going to be a thing, but now I know how I want to get weird with it. I’d like to do longform entries on another platform instead of just infodumping here, but in summary:
:moon: :satellite: :video:
Like a lot of people, I’ve been in what’s been called “Survivor Mode.” You do enough to get through the day, most times by any means available to you.
I feel like I have been doing that since I graduated college.
Now, this happened over a decade and change ago. I graduated at the tail end of a nasty recession and the job market was hit hard. Furthermore, I had a ton of student loan debt– and due to predatory practices of this particular degree mill and student loan company collaboration, it was a lot. This combination forced me to still live at home a little longer and grab any job I could (and being a mailroom clerk, conveniently, did count toward the school’s lofty “over 90% employment rate” upon graduation). There was freelancing done here and there, and sometimes I managed to land the fabled Job in my Field, and I even started a media company with some college friends.
To put it gently, I have been burnt out from “the industry” and have PTSD symptoms when I think about going back. But my college degree, while not worth the paper it was printed on, is proverbially collecting dust. But in being able to survive business implosions, “relieved of my duties,” cheapskate clients, scams, and eviction, I had to settle for the classic 9-to-5.
I think about the “How I Got Here”s quite a lot: like a lot of folks, we were instilled with the “earning a college degree will get you employment” thing– and disappointed when it wasn’t that simple, or even possible. The aforementioned for-profit school and predatory loan distributors. My weaknesses in interviewing in an over-saturated market. My portfolio, which won awards but not jobs. I dwell on the negatives and the “What If”s along with the steps I have taken.
It’s a little harder to remember why I wanted to go into Web Design in the first place– but not as hard as I always think it will be.
Way (way) back in high school, I took all the computer courses available to me. I enjoyed them all, but the ones I liked the most were when we dealt with… Frontpage. Further back– in middle school– I was enamored with all the information other people put on the World Wide Web… how each individual put together images and text to convey what they wanted to. And I thought, “I can do that. I can build sites for people who are unable to. I can put information out there that is more accessible.” And the more I learned, the more I saw how I can create something like that.
With the advent of Content Management Systems, Web designers feel obsolete. But it still takes a person with the know-how and a good eye for color and execution– or at least, someone willing to get their hands dirty being elbow-deep in tweaking code. Accessibility is more important than ever, and I’m not just talking about readability. We have to make sure images are described accurately and accessibility tools are accounted for.
I am content, even happy, with where I am now. I’m still here, after all. There is a roof over my head, gas in the tank, and food in the fridge, despite my cravings for Taco Bell. I’m even blessed to have a job I actually like and enjoy! I am indeed surviving.
I may need to balance an old passion with the… practicality of keeping myself clothed and fed.
It was, one of many, a Friday night in the 1990s. And because it was in Florida, it was hot, humid, and maybe even rainy– that was perfect weather to stay inside somewhere with a good book, comfort food, and pattering ambiance. We’re not thinking of the classic "novel, cup of tea, chair-next-to-window combo," though. We’re talking about a 90s kid that loved reading, pizza, and long car rides.
It’s one of my favorite memories. There was nothing like walking into a Pizza Hut after a long week of School to receive your reward for reading books: a personal pan pizza. Typically I chose Just Cheese, but would change it up with pepperoni once in a while. But what I loved even better was the hour-long ride home: not only was I privileged enough to have the option of eating in the car, but I was able to munch on my pizza and read some more! And while the weather certainly differed it was the rainy evenings that stand out the most in my memory. What else stood out were the books I read during these drives.
They were comics.
That’s right. This is my coming out post[1] on how I not only read Garfield for fun, as a child, but to this day I find most of the strips pretty funny… I daresay to the point where they were the building blocks for my sense of humor (or lack of, depending on who you ask), not to mention his various quips earning permanent residence in my Clapback Directory. Garfield also emulated a confidence and sassiness I sorely lacked in my life– reveling in being fat, lazy, and damn fucking proud of it. So, as I installed an app to help me count calories, this particular exclamation popped into my head and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
While his wiseassery wore off on me– and probably his love for tasty food, If I’m honest– his utter hatred for diets did not. The anti-diet tirade of "Fat, Lazy, and Proud Of It" was taken at face value when I was 10 years old, chalking it up to A Thing Adults Bitch About and I Won’t Understand Until I’m Older, like coffee adoration and hating on Mondays[2]. But the older I grew the more I’ve added my own notes and disclaimers, on top of finding him more relatable beyond a silly punchline. I mean, I have this tendency to put my spin on things, which is both a blessing and a curse.
I’m sure Jim Davis didn’t think too deep into the whole bit beyond "something a gluttonous asshole– you know, a cat– would say," but I now see it as:
In Garfield’s defense and my admittedly shoddy recollection of events: no matter how much he complained, snuck a donut, threatened the scale, or thanked God when Jon read from a newspaper that dieting doesn’t work[3ab]… he still did it. He sucked it up, in his own grumpy way, and celebrated his little victories. I know the struggle of dieting and the joy of getting little cheats in (garnishing a salad with a whole ham? Can’t say I haven’t done similar), so this is a time where I find him Pretty Relatable.
And I’ll do the same. Well, I’ll certainly cheat a lot less. But I’ll make progress, and not beat myself hard when I mess up.
I’m aware of nostalgia and the absurdity of relying on memories from when I was 10, let alone glossing over the overreaching impact of the dieting running gag.[4] Deep critiques will very likely not be kind to Garfield. But hey, when you see me at the gym and I’m giggling through my reps, I’m not giddy from lack of calories– I just have Garfield strips playing in my head.
Which reminds me… I need to log this cinnamon roll.
[1] I can make that joke because I’m queer. 😉
[2] Boy, do I get it now. So do a lot of people. And I got a caffeine addiction for my hatred for Mondays.
[3a] Like a lot of Garfield panels, I can see this clearly in my mind’s eye: a Sunday strip starter panel. They’re at the table and Jon is reading from the newspaper; Garfield had fallen to his knees repeatedly saying "thank you." And, like a lot of Garfield panels, are damn hard to find. RIP "garfield.bounceme.net" with their text-searchable database that filled the gaps in my memory for years. You were a real one.
[3b] I also agree with that take. Dieting may not work, but lifestyle changes do. That should be the goal!
[4] According to that wiki, the few times Garfield did diet of his own volition was because he was shamed or humiliated. So, uh, not a great motivator there, actually. The cracks begin to form.
I live with two cats. They aren’t mine, legally, but we occupy the same household and I help take care of them. We watch shows and lounge in sun spots together, slow blinking at each other. I pretend to look the other way if I drop a particularly tasty crumb of Human Food. Our collective stray hairs makes the discount Roomba seize up.
The “House Panther” (a fancy way of saying black cat) is a greedy old man. He loves to eat: he’ll inhale his meal and immediately edge toward someone else’s bowl or plate. He also enjoys pets and especially belly rubs! His companion– a calico/tabby mix– we ended up nicknaming “Mean Lil Ass,” due to her grumpy-looking face and her fondness for playing rough. She is about 7 years his junior so she still has that kitten energy, to HP’s annoyance.
Together, they can be annoying jerks!
Like I said, the House Panther loves to eat. And he is impatient. So he meows. In your face. And he will paw at the noisiest, most annoying material he can find until you feed him. And that kitten energy has MLA writing checks that her fur can’t cash. Fur literally flies, and she will give back just as good– and louder. Have you ever jolted awake to Super Smash Bros sound effects from beneath your bed? It’s pretty harrowing and I do not recommend it.
But they’re cats. They do cat stuff. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense, other times it’s infuriating. Most times it’s still pretty funny.
MLA enjoys pushing things and hiding in small crevices. She loves to run and jump and have the expensive flatscreen TV wobble from her effort. HP loves to TELL YOU ABOUT IT, at 2 in the morning when you’re supposed to be sleeping and somehow, his meows are the right pitch to evade your earplugs and white noise– if only for the chance to butter you up with kitty snuggles before demanding his breakfast 3 hours early. Both would love to make off with an entire chicken if they could (and honestly, you can’t really blame them). There’s claw marks in the couch. Litter gets in my shoes. They get up to antics and Silly Shit. They make goofy faces. Both love being where they shouldn’t be. And I still don’t know what they’re looking at, over there.
I remind myself that they are Not a People no matter how many times they can stand on their hind legs. That’s just how kitties do. Whenever they irritate me I try to take a deep breath and think: what do they need? What do they want? You know, instead of just chucking a pillow at them or using the CatSoaker9000. I can do something more constructive– and not punish the cat, I learned too late in life!– like checking their water bowl (and to see if it is meal time), or add another cat tree to the grocery list, and spending quality time with them.
Cats may be independent, but they get lonely, too. They are Banished from my room during bedtime due to their antics, so I try to make time for them by hanging out, or pulling out some Cat Enrichment with catnip. And pet them, of course.
Besides, I can always use more patience.
As much as I can complain (and I do!), I do love my rowdy cohabiters. You can tell due to the myriad of nicknames I have for them both.
Disclaimer, folx. My first Pokemon game was Pokemon Pearl for the DS (one of my college friends at the time played the Diamond version). So, if you were expecting opinions from an ol’ head or diehard fan… sorry. My credentials only include watching the anime when it first hopped over to the USA and collecting anything Pikachu themed.
I’m also part of the problem. Unlike Sword/Shield I was excited for this installment and actually preordered.
While I am also pretty easy to please, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend Pokemon ScarJo and Violent didn’t have issues. Like everyone else I hated the glitches and wished GameFreak didn’t rush this game out. There’s a lot of good game in there but unfortunately… those damn bugs can really ruin your session if you’re unlucky. But it’s fucking POKEMON, the biggest franchise in the world! They could ship out a cartridge with a lone MIDI file and it would sell a bajillion copies.
But enough talk, let’s talk about the shit I liked! Oh, and there will be unmarked SPOILERS, so be careful if you haven’t completed the main storylines yet.
So I have a funny story.
Years and years ago– in the Before Times– I matched with someone on Hinge. We had a good chat. But I declined to progress further because I would have had to move to a voice memo service. “Who wants to install an app just to talk to one person?” I thought; “Besides, I am a texter. Also my phone only has 20 gigs and no space.” So that was the end of that.
Or was it?
Several years later– after the Before Times and solidly in the Current Times– I was trying out Yet Another Online Dating Thing: Facebook Dating. I matched with a few people, but most fizzled out. I did manage to at least trade phone numbers with another non-binary person and… I matched with this someone again. It wasn’t too much of a coincidence; we were both on Facebook and even in the same groups. But, eventually, that fizzled out too. So that was the end of that, right?
You know how I love doing things in threes; you know it isn’t.
Becoming exceedingly frustrated, I was taking my mind off the swiping and was (re)answering questions on OKCupid.[1] I even updated my profile a little bit. Then the boredom kicked in and I caught myself swiping. And there was that Someone in just a few swipes! For dramatic effect, let’s pretend that this didn’t happen over several days of bored swiping.
That’s it, I thought. One Time is Coincidence and Twice is a Pattern, potentially. Three times? I don’t know, but this is the point where I’m curious and brave enough to find out.
So I sent the first message. “We just keep running into each other, huh?” Or something worded to that effect; I am recalling from memory. I even mentioned our very first conversation together because– guess what, I even use their preferred service now![2] And despite a few hiccups in initial communication– from us not quite going the same speed on things, to me getting Pandemic’d— it appears to not be the end! We had one date at a coffeehouse, and we’ve been talking where we can, and we do have plans to hang out again once our lives settle down a bit more.
While there was the usual frustrations of online dating, I really had to sit with myself for a minute. I have a feeling my polysaturation[3] point is near. While in the process of scheduling another date (at this time of writing), I’m still riding off the fuzzy feelings of a very recent Cuddle Date on a potential partner’s couch. Between that, and making time for my current partners, and ensuring that I have enough Introvert Downtime to remain functioning– it’s becoming a lot.
So, the apps have been uninstalled and most profiles deactivated. Google Calendar, however, is getting a workout.
—
[1] In short, OKC is the one I keep coming back to. It allows me to filter out straight people (no offense, but full offense; y’all stress me out) and monogamous people (I’m doing y’all a favor; trust me). Also all those questions and percentages to gauge how you may jive with someone (just be sure to not depend solely on it).
[2] While I’m still primarily a texter, I’ve softened up considerably about voice memos. Quite a few of my people prefer them so I try to meet their needs. Voice memos are sometimes more convenient– and can be fun, too!
[3] Polysaturation is defined here as “the state in which a person doesn’t want or need more relationships than they currently have.” While polysaturation can be “satisfying or exhausting,” I’m feeling pretty content with my current setup. I’m also slowing my roll before it becomes exhausting for everyone involved.
What Happened?!
I was leaving my house for a date; we have holiday decorations up and a bat flew into my face. It could have been a bird, but it was dusk (peak bat time!) and we do have bats that like to hang around and eat bugs. Bat (or bird) was nesting in the wreath hanging in our front door. After a few hours worrying and waffling I decided to go to the ER.
How Did It Go?
The ER visit was surprisingly fast; two hours tops. A doctor came in, asked what happened, and gave his recommendation. While it was a low-risk incident for contacting rabies, undergoing the vaccination process was ultimately up to me. And I decided to– by the time this is posted, I’d have my last shot!
Wait, ‘Last’?
Yup. While they are no longer administered in the stomach, there’s still a bunch of shots over the course of a month! Specifically on “Day 0,” then on day 3, 7, 14, and 28. As of drafting out this post, my last shot will be in two weeks.
Day 0 was easily the most stressful! In addition to the anxiety of potential rabies exposure, the initialization was 4 shots– one for each arm and leg. However, subsequent visits were only 1 shot.
Anything Else Happened?
I also called 311 and spoke to Animal Control. Since they were unable to reach me by phone, they visited me while I was in the ER. I recounted my story and showed them footage from our doorbell camera. The officers were unable to say for sure if it was a bat or a bird, but did not deny the possibility of it being a bat.
What Did It Cost You?
I live in the United States, for the record. So far, my insurance managed to cover it.
OK, Tell Me Again, but Make It Entertaining.
Seriously?
Haha, yeah. I want those goofy details.
And onto the original draft.
THE HOLIDAY KWANZAA is a product of creative cultural synthesis. That is to say, it is the product of critical selection and judicious mixture on several levels. First, Kwanzaa is a synthesis of both Continental African and Diasporanl (sic) African cultural elements. … Secondly, the Continental African components of Kwanzaa are a synthesis of various cultural values and practices from different Continental African peoples. … And finally, Kwanzaa is a synthesis in the sense that it is based, in both conception and self-conscious commitment, on tradition and reason.
https://www.officialkwanzaawebsite.org
KuchuQwanzaa is in large part based on the traditional Kwanzaa holiday, but seeks to infuse queer ideology, principles, and values to establish a space for Black LGBTQIA+ folks to celebrate our unique culture, history, and contributions. In the spirit of inclusivity, we invite anyone who shares the core principles of KuchuQwanzaa to celebrate it.
https://www.kuchuqwanzaa.com/about
So after Christmas, we go straight into Kwanzaa. It begins on the 26th of December and it ends on New Year’s Day. Kwanzaa is a holiday created by a Black American man in order to celebrate our heritage, culture, and ancestors. In addition, KuchuQwanzaa was created with these same goals in mind, but to also honor our Black LGBTQ expression. Both incorporate libations, candles, gift giving and food.
For these seven days I reflect on the principles of Kwanzaa and KuchuQwanzaa. I think about what each means to me and how it manifests in my life, and how I can keep them in mind for the future.
(I have also tooted daily via Mastodon; you can check out the #AlbisKQwanzaa tag for the topmost posts for the longer threads.)
“Unity,” the Principle for the first day of Kwanzaa. This was an “easy” one to reflect on, and an excellent start to this holiday (considering how online I tend to be)… my immediate thought was BlackMastodon, BlackTwitter, BlackFediverse. We find each other and support each other, pushing back against the typical whiteness of most online platforms. As Twitter burns, it has been uplifting to see so many of us on Mastodon. I may stick around this time.
KuchuQwanza has two Principles on the first day: in addition to Umoja, it also has Imani, or “Faith.” My initial thought was to assume faith meant the religious sort, and I believe my initial thought to be erroneous. And if not, well– I’m not the religious sort anyway; I strive to at least be spiritual despite my casual relationship to it for the moment.
I have faith in myself (I generally do the right thing), my people (though, cynic that I am, my faith in people takes a hit when confronted with misogynoir and queerphobia– but is generally restored when it is called out and abolished), and the natural world. I also hope to honor my ancestors in how they interpreted the forces of nature and their gods, be it observing the holidays or practicing herbalism.
“Self-Determination,” or why I hate the “we don’t need labels!” or “we’re all human!” rhetoric. Our differences make us who we are, and labels can further define yourself on your own terms. I am Black, Queer, Transgender. Some labels are “given,” but I have chosen the rest.
I also reflect on the representation of our people, and not just us being mere “tokens.” I am here, and I exist, and you will hear me. Everyone contains multitudes and different aspects of themselves; Black people not a monolith. When Whoopi Goldberg saw Nichelle Nichols as Uhura on the screen, it opened so many possibilities for her. We can also be “these things,” despite the overculture trying to tell us otherwise. And that is still important today.
The world is tough enough as it is, so we also have to take care of our bodies and mental health. I’m glad to see that the stigma for therapy and medication is waning– but we can still work on this. The queer community is still recovering from the AIDS crisis, and I still hear negative comments about getting help for what’s ailing your brain.
Get tested, and often, especially if you have multiple partners. Eat your vegetables, take walks, turn off the news and stop doomscrolling when it becomes too much. All these are things that I do within the KuchuQwanzaa Principle of AFYA, or “Health.”
“Collective work and responsibility.” I’ll be very blunt here: If your pro-Blackness dehumanizes the further marginalized, it’s fucking trash. I also found it fitting that this was the day I discovered KuchuQwanzaa– LGBTQ voices and celebrations must be uplifted. This is our work, and our responsibility.
It literally means “house,” and houses, to me, mean family and community. Our relationships to each other help sustain us, past and present. Every interaction accumulates to a “I see you:” from The Nod as you walk past a stranger, to commenting support on a post, to giving your mom a call and (not maliciously!) pestering your sibling.
Black Capitalism ain’t gonna save us– it’s still Capitalism. If we’re still trampling each other to make money, that is the capitalism machine working just as intended. Buy Black (sites like Miiriya makes this easier!), participate in mutual aid, gas up your friend’s Etsy shop!
I did not know about KuchuQwanzaa until this year! So, I found it fitting to mention that on the fourth day of this holiday– the Principle is Elimu, or Education. In a world where LGBTQ folks are still being persecuted, I find it very important to highlight not just our struggles, but to celebrate our contributions to communities and culture.
“Purpose.” I am reflecting on– what is my purpose in life? To be supportive, confounding, to call out bullshit, and eat cookies and cream ice cream, and to exist. It sounds pretty simple, but I’ve mostly made peace with the fact that I don’t need something grand for my day-to-day. And that is enough.
“Just existing” in each of our varied truths may not sound much for a purpose, but for Queer people it is the whole world. We have lives beyond someone else’s moral lesson, or a tragic Netflix movie, or a sensational headline.
I’ve also personal projects and yeah, that is purposeful. I have my writing and poetry– a good purpose, indeed! I am trying to get into more VTubing and gaming, too.
I’ll take this moment to talk about some of my favorite creative works.
Creativity begets more creativity and inspiration, and there’s something special about holding The Memory Librarian in my hands after the last word was read.
my mastodon ramblings
As I’ve mentioned in length in the post about my vtubing, I am a huge fan of Janelle Monae.
Some other musicians that I have on repeat are:
And some of my favorite books are:
While we’re on the subject of books, The StoryGraph has Nadia Odunayo, a Black woman, as founder and CEO!
Sistah SciFi highlights science fiction from Black and Indigenous people.
I also have several pieces of art from GDBEE hanging around my room.
For Kwanzaa’s final day of celebration and reflection, we have Imani. Since I’ve reflected on it previously, I will focus on the two final principles for KuchuQwanzaa: “Against Hate” and “Politicized Identity.”
I walk into a room and I am assumed I’m “political” for just existing. So I might as well own that. Yup, I exist and I’m proud. AND WE’RE GONNA TALK ABOUT MY POLITICS ALL DAY, BABY. And hurt the feelings of Nazis and well-meaning allies in the process. Hate comes in all sorts of forms. Some are REALLY OBVIOUS, while others are more insidious and subtle. The ally that tells me to not be one of “those f-slurs?” They get binned. And the other one who shushes me when I say I’m Black and I’m Proud? Binned and set on fire.
I may not have much choice in how I’m politicalized, but I’ll be damned if someone thinks I’m “doing it wrong” and treat my existence as an inconvenience.
And that is all for my reflections for last year’s Kwanzaa and KuchuQwanzaa. I’d like to do the same for this year, and reflect again to see where I stand.
Til then!
On the shores of roped-off swimming spots
I remember you from all the pens I never collected
the contrast from the blue houses
Complimenting the white trim
I write in red tint
Now more honorable, more informed
I could have been
On those still nights
Beautiful with you
I never healed from that October
Always cold, not quite frozen
Melting from your pink hair
I ran ahead
Into the shadow unknowing
Loneliness becoming
Written sensual unseen by you
I found out who I was
But you’ll never know
you left the lost roads
Stapling images to trees
From backpacks full
Addresses broken
Someone else has your name
I left mine alone
She kept driving
We left our bathing suits at home
Morning still, this
Filling in blanks
No closure, unresolved, this.
