You Asked It: ‘What got you into blogging?’

Note: So when people ask me about what I do and why or how I got into ToTTN or AngelicaDemone I always like to respond, I am going to start calling the blogs I respond to these questions in You Asked It. 


 

What got me into blogging? I honestly have no idea. I think it started somewhere when I was in middle school and just starting to realize what the internet had to offer for me. I actually started out on Blogger with your usual dark and moody teenager mind set, I wrote crazy amounts of poetry that when I now look back on I cringe due to the lack of grammar or spelling and at that age all I wanted to be was a famous writer. Amelia Atwater-Rhodes was hands down my writing idol, after all she wrote her first novel when she was 13-years-old and my 14-year-old-self would have died to be able to do that. 

So I started blogging furiously, I wrote poems, short stories, I had chapters for novels that didn’t exist with no timeline to be found. I couldn’t ever finish a novel because I have a terribly hard time ending things, I never want the adventure to stop and it always feels wrong to put an end to it. Even when I write blogs now it can be hard to stop and not just continue onto the next story in the timeline.

Least to say my teenage self only really had a few followers, after all my blog was more like an online diary where I could freely express my feelings which was something that was hard for me to do with friends or at home. When I was 13 I went through some fairly traumatic experiences that have haunted me to this day and writing has been one of the only things keeping me sane sometimes and my teen years were so much about that.

As I got older I stopped blogging and just started keeping journals that I would hide all over the place, I’d have three or four journals going at once and kept in various places to keep all of my ideas and thoughts organized. Most of them haven’t survived over the years for various reasons, mainly being they can be a lot to travel with and many of them became digital with laptops being more common among the rest of the population class and less with the business class. Scroll forward a few years and you’ll find me on my way to Louisville, Kentucky and contemplating novels again.

I had the idea that I wanted to document my travels but I also wanted to write an apocalyptic novel based on the idea of the US being taken over by a foreign country and what that would look like. To do this I would have to keep close detail to the places I had gone and visited, the restaurants and local mindset so I could really capture the cities I would be writing about. After all if you’ve never been to Louisville you really won’t know where 2nd street is, will you.

Fast forward to when I moved to California with my boyfriend, Brian, and started to talk to people about all of the adventures I have gone on. It was easy enough with friends and family posting about neat things on facebook but I found strangers and friends of the family being curious about the adventures that I never really thought of talking about, let alone writing about. So last October I started Tales of the Traveling Nerd, my most successful blog thus far. It has seriously been one of my favorite things to do, I love to tell my stories of my adventures or talk about the favorite beers that I’ve gotten the pleasure of trying. 

Traveling has been my passion forever. I’ve always loved adventure, getting lost, trying new things, listening to new music, learning a new language and telling a story.So TL;DR: I started blogging when I was very young to cope with some really hard traumas that I went through and then turned it into my dream job a few months ago.

Writing Prompt: Describe snowboarding

My little sister and I goofing off before we hit the mountain. She's a skier and I'm a boarder, proof that we can live in harmony ;p

My little sister and I goofing off before we hit the mountain. She’s a skier and I’m a boarder, proof that we can live in harmony ;p

It’s no secret that I’m a snow bunny. I live for being at the mountain regardless of how average I am at it. It always starts when I wake up, my toes tickle me awake as my chest warms to welcome me to the day. My legs, on the other hand, force me to get out of bed in the most antsy of fashions. Sometimes it’s hard to even focus enough to eat, I do because I should but I’ll be damned if it’s not like trying to force a sugar high two-year-old to sit.

As soon as that crisp mountain air touches my nose I know nothing can touch me. I start relaxing into my body and into a more solid foundation. I am centered, focused and a force to be reckoned with. I feel sexiest on the mountain and covered with nice, warm, layers. You can bet sun or snowfall that I am headed to that mountain to experience my ultimate freedom.

Once I am at the mountain I know I am home and the snow shimmers a friendly ‘hello’ in a multitude of colors just for me. Snow is not white. My feet fit knowingly into my boots and with each click of the bindings my heart stutters and skips, if I’m lucky I’m there early enough to be the first one to carve their name into the side of the mountain. Even the cold bite of the ski lift against my legs after a hot run feels like heaven.

From the top of the mountain you know why the Gods and Goddesses would have picked Mount Olympus as their home, the view is breathtaking. You can see forever on a clear day, watching the mountains fade into that soft periwinkle blue before disappearing into the horizon. The chilly air stings my cheeks, sinking into the bones in my face, as I snap into my bindings and head down the mountain. My hips already know this motion, they live for this as much as I do.

The first lesson I learned when I left Vermont.

I made a few mistakes when I left Vermont, that although I learned some interesting lessons (often than not the hard way) I wish I could change some of them. The following story contains sex talk, cheating and possible triggers.

 

When I had envisioned my move out of Vermont and into the rest of the world I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. I did however know that when I left Vermont I wanted to fall in love some way, somewhere, I wanted (and expected) some romance. After all I am a total bookworm and, even though I hate to admit it, kind of a romantic at heart so romance novels (I know, I know, shut it) have been a staple in my book-diet since I was 16. Wild traveling women who met a man to keep up with them? Who wouldn’t want that? I mean, when I was growing up my cousin K traveled all over the world. She even sent home a video of her bungee jumping from a cable car strung between two mountains. She found a love that not only traveled with her, but moved around the world with her. Really more than anything else in a relationship, I wanted that. Least to say K is part of the reason I travel as much as I do, she inspired me.

Back to the story,

So when I moved to Louisville I was on the prowl, I joined Plenty of Fish, proceeded to get thousands of creepy responses, I joined OKCupid, still thousands of creepy responses, and went out a LOT

In Louisville there is this strip of road that gets shut down on the weekends called 4th Street Live, basically it’s a giant fashion show for who can dress the skimpiest and attract the most women. I had a friend that I went there with semi-regularly and would play ‘who can get the most phone numbers,’ we’d tie out more often than not.

The way FSL is set up is pretty breathtaking when you first get in, perhaps mildly overwhelming for someone who has never clubbed before. There are six bars on street level and four large bars on the second level, the four large bars had different themes and large sky walks that would take you out over the street so you could watch the partying below, and that is where I met JW.

JW was in the military and based outside of Louisville when we met. I was standing over the Sky Walk, nursing my drink and people watching when he approached me. He was originally from Connecticut which really caught my ear considering I am originally from Vermont and boy was he a smooth talker. You know when you watch a TV show and the girl starts talking to the bad guy but has no idea the dude is a sociopath and you are just sitting there like: “Nooooooooooo!!!” Every time I look back on this event that is how I feel. This guy had me convinced that not only was he divorced (he wasn’t) but that he was a nice dude (again, wasn’t.) That night I got perhaps too drunk, but being the ‘gentleman’ he was he walked me home to make sure I got there safely although not without trying to convince me to bring him upstairs which I was most certainly NOT going to do.

He proceeded to text me and call me at weird hours over the next few days, usually with some good excuse as to the weirdness of the hour. One night he called me at midnight and tried to convince me to have phone sex with him, which didn’t go over at all especially when I had to work early the next morning. This pattern happened for a couple of weeks before I finally gave in and slept with him and not a day later my lesson came crashing in loud in clear when he texted me that not only was he back with his wife, he had never left her. I felt awful and betrayed but mostly I felt like the worst person in the world. I would NEVER sleep with a married person, regardless of their SO’s permission. That’s not comfortable for me. I was worried what she would think of me, what my friends would think of me. There had been many times late at night where my friends and I would sit there and pass judgments on the girls who slept with Married men and suddenly I became that girl and it was a whole lot less than pleasant.

A few days later, despite my better judgment, he invited me out again to FSL and said that he wanted to apologize and that there were no tricks up his sleeve. When I got there, there he was. With his wife. I was horrified but I pulled her aside to tell her what had happened anyway, I didn’t think he did. His wife, now to be referred to as M, was understanding and informed me that this was not the first time to happen. The rest of the night we had teamed up and we were going to bring this sucker down a notch by the end of the night while he stood around ‘sulking’ like a puppy who had been swatted on the nose.

The way this story ends is not nearly as satisfying as I wish it could be, she ended up staying married to him despite the fact that later during the night he demanded a threesome because he felt like it would ‘even the playing field.’ I dropped contact with both of them the next day and only saved his number so that I knew who it was that I was ignoring. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the first thing I learned when I moved out of Vermont. 

Feminism Vs. Rape Culture Vs. Self Defense.

*TRIGGER WARNING: The following post talks about rape and violence in the US.*

So a couple of days ago we had some big news come out in regards to the new Miss USA and her response to a very important question, what were her thoughts on the sexual assaults happening on campus’ across the US. Now usually I don’t get into this stuff or blog about it because I don’t want to start a shit show but this is seriously important. I want to make one thing very very clear before I start: I am a feminist, not an extremist, I recognize that not everything is a black and white issue when it comes to dealing with social issues. I am also a survivor of a few instances of sexual abuse and the topic of rape culture is really important to me.

What is rape culture?

Rape culture is a concept that links rape and sexual violence to a culture and it’s society to a point where it is normalized and even condoned and often times is expressed in victim blaming, sexual objectification and making things like rape and violence towards women not such a big deal and belittling the idea of it. We see it constantly in the US, in our media, in our schools, people we are supposed to be able to turn to for safety are blowing it off and it’s coming out as a scandal months later because of shady detective work done by the police. Back in February multiple states had to really take a good look at making a change because they still had rape test kits dating back to 30 years prior, rape culture is well and alive in America and we have to do something about it.

What is not Rape Culture:

Suggesting that women empower themselves by taking a self defense classes to protect themselves.

How do you stop Rape?

By not accepting it in your society, by standing up against it and making it illegal, by creating safe and effective laws that protect the victims that are effected. By teaching people what rape is, how they can prevent it and how to not do it.  The reality is that we may never fully stop rape.

How do you stop Rape when it is happening to you?

You fight for your goddamn life. Just because I don’t want to get raped and that I do not condone rape doesn’t mean that it isn’t a very real possibility when I close the restaurant and walk into the crowded streets of downtown to the bus stop. It doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t carry mace because bad things happen. People have been mugged blocks from my house. Is mugging bad? Yes. Is it illegal? Yes. Should you be aware of how to defend yourself against someone if they pull a gun out on you? Abso-fucking-lutely.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with taking responsibility for our own safety, saying that nothing bad is going to happen to us because we don’t want it to and it shouldn’t exist and expecting that to be a reality is a very, very, dangerous mind set. Understanding that Rape happens isn’t perpetuating rape culture or victim blaming, you can be against rape and still prepare yourself just in case it happens to you.

Who should be taking self defense and what are the benefits?

Personally I think everyone should take some form of self defense, if only for the fact that it really helps boost self-esteem (something we seem to lack here in the states.) In every class it’s pretty clear that self defense isn’t about beating the crap out of someone but about creating enough space to get away from the attacker and get help, which is pretty damn useful for just about anyone.

So what’s your point/TL;DR?

Miss. USA isn’t perpetuating rape culture. We as feminists talk all the time about taking power back and standing up for ourselves and keeping ourselves and our fellow woman safe. We talk about empowering ourselves by doing things that aren’t in societies views of our gender roll. By attacking Miss. USA for stating an opinion that is a pretty damn valid one we are taking ourselves out, so all I have to say is:

Congratulations Miss. USA! You go girl!!!!

Hashtag: Writer Problems

I keep looking at my drafts folder and I have come to a conclusion: I don’t know how to end a story.

I have a ton of really fantastic stories, like the time I accidently ended up at a nude country club with one of my closest friends, or when I mistook the YUM!Center in Louisville, KY to be a really really big KFC because I had never really been on my own in that part of the country.  I’ve written a ton of them up and they are fantastic but then I get to the end and I feel really really weird, choppy and like my writing doesn’t flow. Like right now I am sitting here trying to figure out what to write next and how to transition it properly. I think I over think writing.

When I was a teen I used to write all. The. Time. I must have gone through at least five journals a year, all mixed up with entries and periods of life and usually with odd spacings like I was going to continue a poem I had started in the middle of the night and fallen asleep to the process of writing. In fact I think most of the reason I survived middle school and high school is because I wrote so damn much. I had a series of blogs that I wrote kind of teen angsty things that later refined and got more descriptive as time went on; as if the words were slipping out of your own, experienced, lips. If there was anything I have ever wanted to be in life it has been a writer. At first I wanted to write novels like my Idol Amelia Atwater-Rhodes, she wrote vampire romance and basically made vampires that were to me what Angel and Spike were to most teens of the late 90’s, early 2000’s. The female characters in her book I revered because they knew what they wanted and they would be damned if they didn’t get it. Hell, I was downright obsessed with those books. I wanted very desperately to be her and for a very long time I tried and I came up with the same exact problem that I am having now, I have no idea how to end a story.

So if any of my fellow writers have any tips I would love some advice, do you guys have similar problems sometimes? What stories do you guys want to hear?

To be or not to be.

Oh my God this has been a busy month. On top of being needed at work a ton (it’s been nonstop. I’m starting to dream about memorabilia) and finishing the renovations on the condo, I haven’t had much time to write. I should have more time soon, I have a photoshoot coming up and a new cosplay in progress!

On another note I am coming to kind of a debate with my blog. For a while I’ve been trying to keep it pretty family friendly and I feel like it kind of takes away from the blog. A lot of the adventures that I’ve had in the three years that I’ve been away from home are not the most family friendly and some of them are down right embarrassing for everyone involved but I feel like these stories kind of all fall into my story and experiences. What do you guys think? Keep it as family friendly as possible or actually describe my adventures with light censorship?