Your face is a mess

My WoW mains: Suffragette in T9 tank gear, and Amazonne at the height of Outland absurdity.

For the last little bit, I’ve been going by Hot Tramp online, as a nod to Bowie’s hip-shaking classic “Rebel, Rebel.” My blogging waxes and wanes; sometimes, I’ve got opinions coming out of my ears, and sometimes it’s a chore to find anything to rant about.

I’m a pansexual polyamorous feminist ciswoman who’s working on being a white anti-racist ally who doesn’t suck. I’m a fat-positive in-betweenie. I’m mentally ill, and struggling to understand disability, ableism, and my own ability level. I’m an agnostic who was raised vaguely protestant and whose family is now Jewish.

Although I sure loved Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt back in the day, my video gaming ground to a halt once the NES went out of style. Pen-and-paper RPGs were my thing in high school and college — second ed AD&D, third ed D&D, and Exalted mostly. You know how politicians say they “experimented” with drugs in their flaming youth? Let’s say I “experimented” with LARPing. A sordid, shameful experience, really. This year, the peer pressure finally got to me and I installed WoW. Seven months later, I’m an altaholic achievement addict in a hard-mode raiding guild. Mammas, don’t let your babies grow up to be tanks.

When I’m not wiping on Algalon, I read and write fanfiction and give people relationship advice despite my stunning lack of qualifications. I just finished Stephen King’s Dark Tower series and Mad Men season 2. My Pandora stations play mainly disco-heavy house, classic rock, laid back nineties hip-hop, and disgustingly catchy girlpop. I knit sporadically and go dancing far less often than I should.