The absolutely true autobiography of a liar.
I can’t tell you about the head or what it has “notes” of. But I can tell you about some beers I really enjoyed, a few I didn’t, and the things that happened along the way.
A girl spends 19 days in rural Tennessee with her girlfriend and her family, takes a million pictures, then tells her whole life story in just under 4,000 words. What’s not to love?
“At 27, I came out as Korean-American. I was always Korean, of course. I checked the “Asian” box when filling out a form. My ethnicity was written on my face in the shape of my eyes and my small flat nose. But until a few years ago, it wasn’t an identity I felt connected to. There were many identities that came first — poet, bisexual, queer, feminist, activist, organizer, fattie, vegan. Being Korean was a fact, but not an identity.”
“When I was thirteen years old I began starving myself. I did so, in short, because I wanted so desperately to be thin. And by thin, I mainly meant white.”
“Almost immediately Ayries is convulsing, and getting red in the face, and moaning in a way I’ve never heard a lady moan before. Little short bursts of air. She is making spirit fingers in the way I imagine they are meant to be done.”
So, what’s up with upholstered vests?
“We partied during the week and met up between classes, but brunch was where we let our queer identities free in a way that was more natural and less defensive compared to who we were in public.”
“The path of least resistance is to write off 50 Shades of Grey as harmless fluff, but frankly, after editing over one hundred novels full of distortions and abuse, I don’t think I could respect myself if I did so.”
“For the first time in my life, a teacher calls me out on sleeping in class when I’ve been awake the whole time. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened earlier, because kids have made fun of my eyes since preschool.”
I got a taste of something I had never known — shopping in the men’s department afforded my body the opportunity to take up the amount of space it actually takes up.
This is a story about the family that I lost and found and almost found at various The Cheesecake Factory restaurants across America.
“This is the root of the problem with fat shamers such as Kelsey. They are not worried about the health of others, they are angry that they must worry and we do not. They are people who fear becoming fat, have been fat or feel fat right now and can’t stand that there are fat people in the world that seem carefree. Don’t you know you are disgusting!!?!?!? You’re supposed to be unhappy being fat!! That’s why I work so hard to stay thin; because fat people should be unhappy!!! WHY CAN’T I HAVE MORE MCDONALDS??? The reason I know this is because I was one of these people for a very long time.”
“I used to go to The Pride March every year, starting at age fifteen. I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I started to become disillusioned with it, but I do remember why.”
“Satisfactory social responses are often more obvious to nonautistic individuals. My behavior can be misinterpreted as ludicrous excuses or just being a jerk, when I’m simply lacking social knowledge.”
“Real human change requires space to be honest with yourself, honest with others; a space that doesn’t exist when you’re trapped by necessity behind a fortress of self-protection. As the inmate Poussey in Orange replies when a correctional officer pressures her to speak openly during a group therapy session: “Does it ever occur to you that actually feeling our feelings might make it impossible to survive in here?”
“And so, we raced, each of us more reckless than the other, a bad combination. A mutual friend once said to me; “The problem with the two of you is that there’s no one to say no.” There was no regulatory mechanism. We ignored the scientists who had intimated that all living things, systems, required balance.”
Around 4:20 a.m. on May 26, an armed gunman pulled up beside us and opened fire on our vehicle… the bullet shattered my phone, took out a chunk of my left wrist, and knocked out a dozen of my teeth.
There are moments when if we can, we want to wear the articles of clothing that bring us close to joy. My suit isn’t that thing, not yet, but it did bring me closer to feeling sane and on top of this thing called adulthood.
“He didn’t feel any pain. He died instantly.” That was how she told me that my father was dead. I was 14.