This blog contains 1000 posts. Posting to Blogger with such a large archive has become unwieldy. Also, your blogista, who is sewing a kesa, is not writing much at present. She has ceased adding new posts. Still-active links are here.

Tuesday, October 21, 2003


These people can nail you to whatever cross they like.

Not saying they're all the same, but, see: they all have the same power over you.

You have to find the right one. Someone to hold open the gate for you, and not hold the gate against you.

A gatekeeper can place high hurdles one behind another, and then, if you're desperate, and don't know any other phone numbers, you learn to nimble it, leaping, gathering strength to leap again.

You learn to lie.

If you cannot lie, you’ll find you must go it alone.

You must turn aside the five invidious suggestions along the way.

Yes, it’s dangerous to be a woman; half the population knows that.

Yes, it’s a one-way trip; so’s life.

Yes, I can end up lonely, been there, survived that.

Yes, I have issues with my childhood. You don’t?

No, I don’t think becoming a sensitive man will help; there aren’t insensitive women, then?

And, no, it’s not about the clothes. It was never really about the clothes. When I was whipped over the clothes, I knew, though I did not know how to say it, that it was not going to be about the clothes.

No, you don’t have to believe me.

I understand you will not be writing a prescription.

Here’s your effing one-hundred-dollar check.


-- risa b


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