Angelia Sparrow's Blog

 Movies: 5. The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Desolation of Smaug and The Great Mouse Detective.

Books: The Freakshow: Rebirth in Drayton Falls and Drive-Thru of the Dead, both by Bryan Smith
Gateway by David C. Cassidy

Words Written: 5445

Crochet work done: 25 jellyfish, 25 mini jellyfish, 25 T-Rexes and 25 triceratops. 4 naked green impkins, 4 shawls, 1 monster. Principal crochet for a blanket (needs edge) Several shawls worked on.

Yarn bought: 1 skein of raspberry to finish the lesbian jellyfish. I'm on a yarn diet. No more than 2 skeins a month.

Not too shabby. We have a couple events in February and March.

 It has been a heck of a year.

In Feb of 2024, I tore my Achilles. I went back to work in August, broke my tailbone in Octorber, and utterly failed my physical in November.

I spent Jan and Feb of 2025 trying to get my medical card back, and in March, I gave up professional driving. I tried for a shuttle driver job at FedEx, only to discover I cannot follow verbal directions.

My disability was approved in June.

Jon was arrested again in March. He is currently in the Pine Bluff Unit of the Arkansas Department of corrections. Minimum 8 years. I got to see him Dec 21. He seems to be thriving, ironically. He's reading and learning, and eating well, but moving a lot more.

We saw a good bit of the grandkids. In March, May, August and December. Chas is a character. We're pretty sure he's a spectrumite, like all of us. His thing is stacking. All the things much be stacked. 

Richelle continued her transition. She is happier than I've seen her.

In June, I helped my people move to Minnesota. Wish I could have too.

What else did I accomplish? I made about 200 amigurumi. I made a lot of shawls. 
I read 51 books (first time I've hit that goal in over a decade). I saw 50 movies.

I read all 7 Dungeon Crawler Carl books (again) and 13 Harry Dresden books. Butcher is literary popcorn to me. I enjoy it, but I remember very little of it once it's done.

Best Books this year: Fairy Tale, Stephen King. Blackfire Rising, Elizabeth Donald. Extreme Medical Services, Jamie Davis. The End of the World as We Know it, edited by Brian Keene.

Lots of horror movies this year. 30 of the 50.
Some were good: Lost Boys, Carrie, the 28 Days Later series, Dr. Sleep, The Company of Wolves. Trick r Treat. Something Wicked This Way Comes.

Some were solid: Beyond Re-Animator, 5 Nights at Freddy's, Haunt Season, The Hills Have Eyes, Jennifer's Body, The Howling. 

Some were just weird: Lair of the White Worm (featuring a 30 something Peter Capaldi being adorkable). Color Out of Space, 

Worst movie I saw this year: Three Way Tie: Food of the Gods (preachy and laughable), Deadly Blessing (I was shouting and throwing things by 15 minutes in and Maren Jensen was awful) and Tourist Trap (So boring I fell asleep)

Of the Non-Horror, The best was inarguably Mr Holmes with Ian McKellan. Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves was a romp. The Warriors was a tense chase movie.

Worst movie I saw: Yellowbeard. Mix Monty Python, Mel Brooks, and Cheech and Chong to make a pirate movie. It should have been hilarious. It was a waste of talent and endless rape jokes.

No major writing this year, just a lot of poking at stuff.

Next year will be better.

 New year, renewed commitment to earning extra money.

 Gift Cards:

Disney $75
Chik FilA 6.72
Starbucks 35.90
Amazon 1.98

Total: 119.6

Apps:

Upside 13.57

Swagbucks: $28.44

Fetch 1776 (1)

Receipt Pal: $5

Coin Out: $2

Receipt Jar: $19

Receipt Hog: $5

Shopkick: $ 10

Pogo:  0.41

MistPlay: $20

Daily Gift: $3

Kashkick$2.25

Free Cash 5.03

Cashwalk: -

Total: 114.7

 Folks, I'm up against it.

If I stop making bad jokes, I'll start screaming.

Of the current situation:

1) my girlfriend/junior wife is in the hospital 150 miles away. She has surgery tomorrow to replace a shunt. She's hydrocephalic.

2) My senior wife was in a bad car accident 1 weeks ago. There is a lot of fallout from this
2a) she has a broken collar bone
2b) our prius is so much junk
2c) she can't drive
2d) she can't work, which causes money issues
2e) She's in discomfort, but not a lot of pain.

3) My younger son is in jail, heaing on the 29th. The charges are serious, they have him dead to rights, and I expect he may plead out.

4) I am the sole earner for the household. This gives me endless panic. It went badly the last times we tried. At least this time, I'm making about 25.50 an hour. We have a TON of medical bills from my achilles.

5) I am back to work, torn achilles and all. This is physically stressful in a number of ways:
5a) torn achilles is healed and getting a workout
5b) sciatica feels as if I'm wearing a barbed wire girdle
c) No AC on my bus. We are under excessive heat warnings
d) On Friday, my bus threw an alarm I couldn't turn off. I did 2 weeks, 60 hours, on a bus with that kind of alarm, literally working under conditions the UN defines as torture. I still have PTSD I told the mechanic it had to be fixed or I would park the bus on a railroad track.
e) my route got re-arranged, and now I have to clock in 10 minutes earlier
f) I get up at 4, leave before 5, come home at 630, go to bed at 8. That's still brutal and I;m not as young as I was 7 years ago.

6) We have no AC in the house. It's so hot I cannot crochet

7) Just for giggles, I have a cold. It might be strep, but I'm not checking. i have a cold, and that's it.

It seems almost appropriate.

Tonight is Walpurgisnacht, the last night when witches get up to mischief before spring puts an end to the revels. A night when the world walls are thin.

And last night, a fine witch crossed into the Summerlands.

Kali had fought pancreatic cancer for two years. She had suffered, and sorrowed but never quite despaired. We went to see her for her last birthday, and despite being exhausted, I'm glad we did. She thought the world of my youngest and Oli adored her in return.

She was a large soul and given a chance would take up most of the psychic space in a room. She was generous and loving, with many who loved her in return. She was terrified of storms after 2010, when her house flooded during the May 1 floods.

Pagans have an odd relationship with death. We treat it as another stage in our life cycle. But we still hurt when it happens. Every death leaves a hole in us. I was raised believing that when you cried because someone had died, you were only feeling sorry for yourself. I agree with the idea, if not the condemnation. We are feeling sorrow and pain because a part of our life has been taken from us and we will never have that piece back.

We cry and we sing and we remember the good things. We think of the person often, for the dead hear us remembering. And at Samhain, we add another picture to the altar and speak the names of those we have lost.

Depending on our beliefs, we know we will find the person again, if not in the afterworld, in another life and another form. For now, we mourn the end of this life, and remember.

Freya, we send you a warrior.
She has fought against impossible odds.
She has stood on her feet twice as long as most who face this enemy do.
But she has lost the battle.
Welcome our beloved Kali.
Give her the riches she has earned.
Let her feast and drink deeply that she may recover her strength in your Hall.
And grant your love and care to us, who must continue here,
with bleeding, Kali-shaped holes in our hearts and lives.
Freya, we send you a warrior.

Earlier today, I made the distinction that while I consider transwomen to be women, I don't think of them as female. Just as I kind of flinch when I hear the term "transmale." This is based on my, probably dated, understanding of things.

Sex.Loosely defined, sex is what's in your genes/jeans. How did the sex cells recombine?

My basic 300 level college genetics course dealt in X and Y chromosomes. These mostly pair up, as chromosomes do.  XX produces female offspring. XY produces male. They are usually differentiated by a check of the progeny's genitals. The chromosomes do combine in other ways: XXY, XYY, XXX, X0 being the most common.

Because of the chromosomes, puberty triggers hormones in humans to develop secondary sexual characteristics.

We are born male and female. We become men and women.

GenderGender is how we behave. As I had one character tell another, "Being a man is here " he tapped his forehead, "and here" he tapped his chest, "not what's between your legs." Sex is what's between your legs, gender is head and heart.
Most people's gender matches their bio-sex. They perform according to societal norms and never question. In a highly conformative environment, say white middle America, any deviation is seen as a threat to well, everything: sex, the family, religion and probably the country itself. There is some latitude for girls to perform some masculinity, tomboys, but very little for boys to perform any femininity.
Some people, their mental gender doesn't line up with their body. This is where transgender comes in. It's no longer called a sex change or transsexual, since the sex of the patient is not actually changed (although the hormonal therapy necessitates medical professionals treating the patient as not only the sex but the gender as well)Masculinity and FemininityThese are how Man and Woman are performed. They are defined by dress, activity, societal expectation and sometimes law.
Many who are genderqueer and non-binary criticize transfolk for performing their gender so close to stereotypes. But in order to be taken seriously, the masculinity or femininity must be performed strongly to counter the other visible markers that say the person's body does not match their presentation. 
There are many performances for masculinity and more for femininity. These can be played with to a degree. The problems crop up in other people's minds when they've gotten used to thinking of a person one way, and then that person performs outside of the accepted boundaries.
My junior husband is not a jock or a manly man. He's a rather fem man, and sometimes he's a boy in a dress. The dress disconcerts me because I associate it with my former girlfriend. I run rather more masculine in my positions. Because if I'm going to be a man, I'm going to be one where there is no question about my manliness. (I refused to be a sissy, even as a girl)
Nonbinary folks may be saying I'm thinking in stereotypes and that the dress shouldn't make a difference. Perhaps it shouldn't but it does. Part of me thinks "When I'm a man, I'll have to give up skirts in the summer, certain perfumes, cool socks and a lot of jewelry. Because otherwise, I might as well stay a woman."
I don't perform femininity often or well. I've called it "doing drag" for over a decade now. Being required to do so can feel restrictive, but losing the option to do so can feel just as bad.
Where I amRight now, I'm starting to change over my online life. I have to stay a woman for a while, because the gods have crone work for me to do. Right now, I'm stepping into a whole new world, one where I'm behind the times in many ways and not sure I can catch up. (I still call it Making The Change) Right now, I'm hesitant to be around other transfolk, especially younger ones, because I know I'll screw up and get corrected. Sometimes it's a useful correction, sometimes it's a jumping on. And I've been on the net long enough to respond with endless sarcasm to the latter.Right now, I'm sorting out the outcomes of changing over, and kind of horrified the best conclusion I'm finding for me is a eunuch in a suit, a bitch with a beard and boxers essentially. I don't have any interest in make-believe sex or toys. Surgery is chancy at best (55% reported complications, only 9% had erogenous sensation and only half were able to perform sexually) and moreso as I age.
In conclusionI will never be male. I'm stuck with a XX body.I might be able to be a man, heart and head after all, with some artificially-created secondary sexual characteristics.I can perform masculinity. Half the reason most people think I'm a bitch is because I say things with authority and without qualifiers. I've been performing masculinity for years. It;'s more of the same.I'd just like a mustache to twirl as I do.

Here it is April and I haven't made a post this year,

My new job keeps me away from the keyboard for up to 13 hours a day. By the time I get home and eat, it's bed time.

And there has been much thinking with little conclusiveness

There are posts I need to make:
1) the coming post-work society
2) transition, living with it and living it and questions that are too rude to ask on facebook
3)  My top is my razorblade: when BDSM becomes self-harm
4) Talk like a man. They already think you're a bitch.

My life is in a great deal of turmoil and I'm actually considering giving up sex. I've always thought I was hypersexual: wanting so much more than hours of masturbation and so much more sex than my husband. Then I find out the people who slut-shame me are having more sex than I am. By orders of magnitude. 48 times in 48 hours, 4 guys in a weekend. And I'm the slut because I love my husband, throw pheremones all over the room and write smut with no apologies or regrets.

But in the last few years, I've learned I'm doing sex wrong, doing kink for the wrong reasons, having orgasms improperly if at all (they only leave me tense, there is no release) and giving my husband a rash (the slight acid irritates his skin). My desire is already low enough that all this just makes me want to quit having sex. I gave up masturbating a couple years ago.

And for me, that's like waking up and finding my eyes are suddenly blue. An integral part of my identity has changed. I'm an autumn, I can't carry blue eyes. I'm a slut. This desire for celibacy has left me feeling very odd indeed,

So pardon the turmoil while menopause, transition and too much introspection have rusted my lust.
We're all very confused here too.

My last post was in September. Then life ate me. And the holidays have come round again. As always, Yuletide Youtube is running at http://valarltd.livejournal.com

My wishes are few this year:

1) My big wish is fan activity for my work. Fic, art, videos, anything.
I would really love some Eight Thrones or DJ'verse fan art. (inspiration at Pinterest
https://www.pinterest.com/valarltd/)
I have one of Gordon from "Songs for Guitar and French Harp" and one of Edward and Charlie.
DJxBran, Nick/James, James/David, ZaraxThe Gemini are my favorite ships.

2) I will cheerfully give a good home to any knitting needles, crochet hooks or yarn you need to destash.

3) A link to your favorite song.

4) BPAL imps that don't work for you are welcome

5) A binder. http://www.f2mbinders.com/ I take a 2xl

6) Neckties. I'm a fan of colorful neckties

7) I will also rehome any tarot deck that does not like you or isn't working for you.

8) Donate Blood if you can. There is always a need. Register to be an organ donor or bone marrow donor. (I’m both)

9) Leave comments on social media, not just likes or hearts or kudos. In the same vein, send a fan letter to an author, fanfic or original. It will make their day.

10) Give to the charity of your choice. My favorites include Toys for Tots, Project Linus and the Hunger Site. Many food pantries are more strapped than usual.

This weekend's free book is Adventuresses

It's SF in the loosest sense, encompassing steampunk, alternate history and space opera.


Link
Blurb:Ten tales of lesbian adventure take you from the far reaches of the galaxy to the science fiction convention down the road, from a steampunk west to a world where the Confederacy got nukes. Come along and fall in love with a waitress or a pirate or Medusa herself.
Excerpt:The rice and carnitas gone, she pushed away the plate and picked up the tintype. She tried to rise, but a hand landed on her shoulder and held her in her seat. 
“Leaving us already, stranger?” the man asked. “Don't you know it ain't polite to leave without offering to buy a drink for the whole place, at least when you're new in town?”
She tipped her head and gave him a look that made most men back right off. He was either dumber than most or less cautious. He never moved his hand. “Come on, grandma, buy us one.”
“Sí, cervaza,” one of the other farmers said.
“Don't make him get ugly, old lady,” added one of the night-doves hanging on her meal-ticket of the evening.
“He already ugly. Muy feo!” tossed out someone on the other side of the room. The men laughed. She had heard that tenor in crowds before. It never boded well. The intruder clamped his hand down harder, trying to hurt her. That would not do.  She returned her attention to her teacup, pretending to ignore the others. 
“Look, you old hag,” he started.
She drew. Not the forward-facing guns on her thighs, but the ones tucked in the back of her belt. Her upper set of arms unfolded itself, flipped her coat back to the elbows and drew on her harasser.
A gasp went up. There were a few oddities around, but most kept their deformities out of sight if they could. Most of the first generation were long dead, with only a few living to adulthood and fewer still having children. The rebels had brought something out of Texas during the War, and her ma had been less than fifty miles from the place where they exploded it. It got into the air, the water and the ground, and spread from the original site.
“Care to let me get my rest now? I flew a long way today.”
“I'm sorry,” the man said, letting go of her shoulder and backing away.
She stood up, her lower arms in position to pull the guns on her thighs. The crowd looked and realized those were in quick-draw holsters, like a gunfighter's.

This weekend's free SF is Somewhere Out There, the audiobook.
Close your eyes and let the theater of the mind transport you on eight erotic journeys between worlds.

Unlike other giveaways, there are only 15 of these.
Leave a message here, and I will email you the download code.


Blurb:At its best, science fiction presents us not just with a vision of the future, but with more understanding of ourselves and how to get to that future. It presents us with ways to think about relationships and people. And this time, it’s about the shapes of relationships.

In these eight stories, we run the gamut. Whether a shipboard fantasy about a captain that turns into more or the new fiancé meeting the former spouse, people remain people, with loves and confusion.

Sometimes the love lies very close to jealousy and hatred, as in “Bodies!” Sometimes, it grows out of an unpleasant necessity, such as “Similar Species” and “Expectations.” Occasionally, it is the mother of creativity and invention, in “Tether”or just food for a species that feeds on emotions, from “A Very Emotional Scene.” And sometimes, it can leave people wondering if it was real or not, as it does in “Wide Awake.”

Love and sex are two very powerful drives and in these futures, they propel us far beyond our own world.

Excerpt, from Wide Awake:

Arkana
Planet K478, Year 2345, July 13

“I never loved anybody like I love you. Never knew I could.” K’Aran ducked his head and let the curtain of black shiny hair hide his flushed face, a feat a bit difficult for a seven-foot-tall giant. He never could hide his emotions from me.

“You’re cute.”

He bared his pointy incisors at me in an attempt to look tough, making me laugh. “You’re an idiot, Than.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He stopped trying to impress me with his viciousness and cuddled me to his chest. It was a strange sensation, one I never wanted to get used to or take for granted. I was a tall man, well over six feet myself, but nowhere near his size. Not only was he freakishly huge by human standards, he had the muscles and the strength to go along with his size. My man was massive. In all ways. I smirked and bit on the nearest nipple to my lips, just because I knew how it made him squirm. We were too depleted of energy for anything else. Going at it for three rounds did that to any male, human, drakar or otherwise.

“I don’t want you to leave. We’re better prepared now. Why do you...?”

My poor kadush.

“You know I have to. Arkana is on the right track but it will be years, decades until you are ready for it. And I’ll come back. I promised, didn’t I?”

“I don’t like this, Than. Why does it have to be you? There are others who could...”

I shushed him and kissed his pouty, quivering lips. How he could look cute at his size and with his terrifying appearance, I did not know. But my kadush, my husband and my heart always managed to pull it off when he wanted something. I caressed the soft, leathery bluish-white skin of his cheek and saw my smile reflected back at me in his violet eyes. His black bat wings moved restlessly behind his shoulder blades as they always did when we were together. He had once explained that it was involuntary, similar to the way I shivered when he touched me.

“I’m the best qualified. The best adapted here. It’s just for a short while, and then I’ll be right back here by your side.”

“I know, Than. I just worry, kadush.” He smiled at me and winked roguishly, even now trying to set my mind at ease. “I’m expecting you to take my mind off such nonsense.”

“That’s what I thought I was doing during the last two hours,” I quipped.

“I’m really really worried. You should do it some more.”