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Shelley Brown-Weird Girl Adventures from A to Z Books

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“I write because I have to write, like a singer who has to sing or a musician who has to make music. I write not so much as to have people read my writing, I write to connect, to engage, to feel less alone. I also write to allow others to feel related to what I’m writing about, to laugh, to cry, to identify within themselves similar feelings and to evoke a memory. I used to think my journey was so unique yet it’s not, and for that I am grateful. If I can’t be a rock star, then I will be a write star even if in my own eyes.”

“Living inside this head was a torture of endless looping thoughts and self-hatred. Like many women, my suffering manifested itself through my relationship with my body that transcended self-hatred into self-destruction. There’s no need to go into any more detail about what it was like. What I do want to offer is that there is hope.”

“I have decided to use my voice to tell you stuff that you may not otherwise know. Not to scare you or make you feel bad, but to inform you so you’re not totally taken by surprise as I have been. Maybe it’s my own ignorance. Maybe it’s lack of cable. After all, don’t they talk about this shit on Dr. Oz? By the way, how many of us can relate to a person who would be an audience member of daytime talk show?”

“I have this craving to be some ball-buster chick who, when you look at her, think, “She likes her rock hard, her cock hard, and her liquor harder,” yet I know that this striving has everything to do with the what’s lurking behind my softer feminine side. Hard and edgy. I know them well. I sought them out, tried them on and wore them in the many forms so many of us do, from fuck me to fuck you, and everything in between.”

“I can’t bear to wear flats, and it’s not a height thing. The rounded toe of the ballet slipper-style shoes do not appeal to me. Let’s face it, none of us over thirty, forty, fifty and on, are ballerinas. No, girls, Pilates is not ballet. I’ve been told I am built like a ballerina, but I’ve also been told I dance like a stripper. Did you ever ask someone how they thought you dance? You may be in shock, or maybe they will be.”

“There is a moment when you just know it and can’t deny it. It’s simply the irrefutable truth, and now you have to change the situation because it’s no longer working for you. Maybe you come to the realization gradually, or maybe you come to it like a nearly missed red light when you stomp on the brake, and it’s right there, unmistakable. It’s the moment when you realize there is only one cool person in the relationship or dating thingy, and it’s not the other person.”

“I was fourteen years-old, singing and strumming away on my six-string acoustic guitar to the songs of the sixties and seventies limited to the aforementioned “Cocaine,” “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” and “House of the Rising Sun.” I had no idea Lola was a man and someone else was glad they were a man. I always tell people, “I’ve been to that desert. I’ve been on that horse and he did have a name, I just was never allowed to tell anyone.”

“My personal hell is a place filled with loud, cocky, inked hipster—millennials. It’s a place where every guy looks like a member of Mumford & Sons, and all the women shun makeup. No, it isn’t Lollapalooza, nor an Arcade Fire concert. No, it isn’t some hipster independent coffee shop serving the latest trend in cold brewed coffee and a donut. No, not a craft cocktail lounge playing Daft Punk on vinyl while everyone sits on low striped cushions and corduroy couches wearing color schemes of pants and tops that make no sense. I’ll give you a hint. A woman walked around wearing a t-shirt stating, “Data is the new bacon.” Excuse me, but fuck you, it is not! Okay, fine. Last hint. All the Mumford & Sons dudes and non-makeup wearing inked millennials are wearing the exact same shirt. Slap yourself if you get this wrong. My hell is the APPLE STORE!”