The Shelf: Episode 8

Welcome back to The Shelf, a film review podcast about the physical media we carry with us. This week, the JUICE is on the LOOSE. Join Nic and Hannah as they review a classic–Beetlejuice.

If you’re having trouble loading in this browser, you can also access the episode externally here: The Shelf, Episode 8: Beetlejuice

Pansexuality in Schitt’s Creek: A Win for Represenation

How is everyone’s beautiful day/night/evening/morning/afternoon/twilight going? Wonderful! Well, mine is just fantastic, thank you for asking. Why is it so fantastic you may ask? Oh haha ta hee ha. Let me tell you. Because of a very special TV show called “Schitt’s Creek.”

Cloudy Today: A Vignette

October 1987

I wake up to a loud, panicked knock on my door. I quickly pull on a pair of sweatpants, and opened the door. There is Maggie, tearing up.

“Anna, you’re the only person… I don’t know what to do… Fuck, Anna, I need to talk to someone or I might do something I regret.”

“It’s 2 in the morning.”

Maggie ignores this. “Let’s go somewhere private. The bathroom. C’mon.” She tugs on my arm, and I acquiesce, following her down the dimly lit dormitory corridor.

We sit facing each other in the showers. Her face is red, eyes stained with tears, mascara running. She still looks perfect, and I lean forward, ready with a tissue, and dab at her eyes.

“It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”

Maggie looks up at me with her giant hazel eyes, and a shudder runs down my spine. She gulps.

“I loved that asshole. I fucking loved him. Fuck, I thought I did. Why the fuck do I let people love me?” The tears start again in earnest, and she buries her head in her hands, her whole body racked with sobs.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Fucking guess, Anna,” she snaps. “He goes off for a semester abroad, and insists we can make it work, that long distance isn’t the end, and then I have to hear from his brother that he’s screwing some tramp, some Eastern European slut who can probably bend her legs backwards over her head, and I’m here twiddling my goddamned thumbs, waiting like some pathetic little housewife for him to come back…” she trails off, then looks down guiltily at the floor. Her head turns back up to me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to explode like that. I found out, like, an hour ago and you were the only person I thought of to tell. Fuck, I know it’s early, I must have paced outside your door for like, twenty minutes, Anna, I did, but I needed to see you, I needed to get this shit out of me, I would have fucking exploded.”

After a few minutes, she pulls away, rooting around in her bag. She removes a cigarette, lights it, closes her eyes, and the smoke curls out of her nostrils. She does everything with such grace even when she’s falling apart. I fall out of my hypnosis and grab the cig from her, stubbing it out on the damp ground.

“What the fuck you do that for?”

“God damn it, you fucking idiot, you can’t smoke in here. You’ll set the alarms off, wake up the whole damn building.”

“Pfft. Like that fucking matters. Like anything fucking matters.”

“Christ, you dummy, yeah, shit matters! I matter! You matter!”

“Fuck it, Anna, of course you matter. I just need a damn cigarette.”

I try to change the subject before she gets herself expelled. “You’ll find someone who deserves you. I told you from the beginning that he didn’t.”

“So what? It’s my fault?”

“Shut up. You know exactly what I’m saying. He was wrong, but he’s not the only one out there.”

“Ehh… I know, but, Anna, I can’t just wait for the right person. What’s the point of a bright future if today is so fucking cloudy?”

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I want to dry her tears. I want to put her soft lips against mine. I want to hold her tight and never let her go. A selfish thought crosses my mind: I want her to love me. I want her to know that I am that person, the one who could be right for her, to make her happy, to love her unconditionally.

It’s fucking pathetic. I always said I wouldn’t be the one lusting after the straight girls. And here I am, taking a moment that’s about Maggie, and making it about me.

This is when Maggie leans in and presses her lips against mine. They’re rougher than I imagined them to be. I can’t kiss her back, because before I can even think she’s pulled away again, her expression quickly contorting into a frown.

“What the fuck was that, Anna? I thought we were friends!”

“Mag, you kissed me-”

“Shut up, you dyke! Get away from me!”

She gets up and walks away and it’s like I’ve been punched in the throat because each breath is jagged and I can’t say a single fucking word or do anything useful but smell her lingering scent and hear that heavy bathroom door slam.

A Fighter


You emerged from your mother

Into a cold & strange world.

You were born on an early morning

Like the dawn of a new day,

Lighting up the sky with your restlessness.

A fighter, they called you.


Panic & fatigue

Covered the room like frost

Until you met your mother’s chest,

For the first time;

And the room melted like a spring morning.


Her heaving sighs,

the morning rise,

my toes resting

slide onto bare wood.


I step into hot sand.

Enveloped, developed, tough grit

exfoliates a broken wing.


She tells me to breathe,

I tell her to leave.

The heavy ocean rises and falls,

screaming seagulls make their calls,

I wait behind for news of you.

You Deserve To Exist

I know what it’s like to be,

Queer & Afraid.

They say you are strong,


But right now, you are not.

It’s okay to take shelter

In the haven of your own mind.

It’s true what they say about the closet.

Sometimes it’s easier to hide in the dark.


But the sun will rise,

The stars will shine.

Everyone who has feared,

Just as you have,

Has looked at the same sky.

Your eyes illuminate with wonder

Everytime you look up.

The earth will continue to move

And so will you.


I am your refuge.

I am here:

To listen to your words

To feel your pain

To love you.


Life is a kaleidoscope of memories.

Fragments of good and bad

Spun into one another,

Colliding and morphing with every twist and turn.

It looks like broken glass

Illuminated by colors and shapes

Swirling into one another.

And it’s beautiful.


Don’t forgot:

The only acceptance you truly need is your own.

A heart full of love shines brighter

Than a heart full of hate.

Find solace in yourself.

Be kind to your body.

Though it may be threaded

With fear.


Remember to feel.

You deserve what is good.

You cannot see beauty without ugly.

You cannot see strength without fear.

Life is bountiful of hope

No matter how treacherous they journey may be.


You are a living being. You deserve to exist.

Love to Mind

*To the lovers that never were because our bodies told them to stay away…*

Ohhhh, Baby! Let me make Love to your mind!

Mindful thoughts swaying in the air with nowhere to go but in the warmth of my bosom
If only we knew how to make love blossom
into our smiles, our thoughts, and words.

Because loving with our bodies seems to be the only language we know
And being physical is nice and all but it’s like that’s the only way we know how to express ourselves
And I want to change the language of intimacy
Because in the depths of my being I know Love is forever and baby I know my body will not be here forever

My soul wants to caress the inner thigh of your mind
Kiss the lips of your sweet soul
Touch the chest of your thoughts and tell you,
Honey, let’s make love
Not with our bodies but with our souls
Pressing against one another, sweating because our passion is too hot and our faces are too warm
smiling, exchanging those words that we never thought we would
Changing our moans for laughter
Looking into the eyes of the other and saying
Oh, baby…
Let me make Love to your soul!

I see you and you see me, and for the first time in My life I know that if we never touch again we would still love
Still look at the other and agree we were one

One soul

Two minds

Bound in each other’s arms forever and always
Acting like always is forever and my forever is always.

The first time I saw your inner self I began to cry
Because our souls were naked and we saw how raw fully beautiful it was to leave the imprints of each other’s being on our hearts

When our final days come and I see your soul for the last time I will weep.
Because I know I will be leaving behind a mine of gold where I once was covered in dirt by the smog of your powerful beauty
And I think it’s okay to call you beautiful because to me that’s all I see
Even when the scars on your body may say otherwise
And the harshness of your skin may tell people to stay away

…This is all I soulfully see


I am with you and you are with me in bed together naked in our mind’s eye telling our life’s secrets
As if making love was easy and without complication
But let me tell you,
It’s complicated and it is not easy

My love for you is messy and harsh
Judging what my soul shares with yours because my body has been struck by others
By you
Beaten Down, Beaten Down

that my Self-finds it hard to say ‘yes’ to the making of Our love 

To make love to your soul is a task
One that needs work and practice
Your soul against mine is all I ask for
But in moments where I can actually see you for you, I wonder if you were ever really naked to begin with…

…I cry when I see your inner being inside mine

Love to Mind

I’m forever asking you to make love to my soul
Forever, as in My Always.

But I Say It Just To Reach You

Our relationship became more interdependent as time passed. Soon I didn’t have eyes for anyone but her. 


Trigger warning: emotional abuse, homophobia

There are references to emotional abuse and homophobia in this post, however no slurs are used. Please be warned before opening the full post.

Untitled poem about queer love

I don’t know how it feels

To hear them

Call you ma’am

In the checkout line.

Does it sound the same

As the man checking your ID

saying hey

Isn’t this a girls name

I don’t suppose they sound the same. 

But I know my stomach sinks

When I hear your mother call you that

There’s a twitch in my fingers when they call us girls 

Because I know you.

I know you’re the type to bring a life raft to your wedding reception

I know sometimes you want to float

On an open sea.

You wouldn’t be scared at all.

Every night

I touch your skin

Each night,

A bit rougher.

Sometimes you feel

Stone cold.

When I was 8, I buried a rock in the snow

Hoping to see if something will grow.

I sat in the snow

Molding balls of frozen water

Between my mittens.

The frigid wind reddens my cheeks

But I don’t care.

I think:

If I had magic powers, I would freeze the world

just to catch my breath.

You’re so damn good

At hiding the truth.

You pile bricks and bricks

To block out the light.

You don’t know your bricks are transparent

And your friends and family are waiting outside to see you.

We ignore what truly hurts us.

We know this.

We mention nothing.

We hide from feeling

Anything that is inconvenient.


Rings through my ears like a gong,

My heart

pumps the hurt

into my clean blood.

Am I free?

Am I free?

After the hurt goes away:

I learned how to ignore it.

Pass through life


Comatose to current,

Distraction & Detachment:

My favorite drink.

My traumas

Orbit me like little moons

Held in place by gravity.

They spin in circles,

Dancing in the dark.

They are glowing.

I want to know why you shine so bright I can’t see what’s around me. You’re not translucent you’re a glass prism and you shine brighter than I can ever appreciate and I’m sorry I am too much sometimes and I can’t see all your light but there are colors I will never perceive just like I’ll never see how beautiful your rainbow truly is and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I cry when I’m mad and I look for love in the wrong places. I’m sorry I’m weak and you’re strong and you don’t understand why. Please don’t hide from the world. Please see the beauty in an ice cold world. Snow melts. People change. The world loves you.

This is for me (but it’s not mine)

This is for me
I was built for this
But it’s not mine

The darkness fades
But only for a moment
This wasn’t made for you

I wake up every day, ready for the world
Smile on my face and the strength to begin
But something isn’t right

This is what I love
I chose this for a reason
But is that my choice to make?

This doesn’t belong to me
I don’t deserve this
So why does it feel so good?

I built this from the ground up
I earned everything I have
But maybe I worked for selfish reasons

If I keep going I’ll feel better
When I watch the numbers climb I’ll smile
But maybe today is when the numbers shrink

Others do it so much better
And even more deserve the piece im taking
Yet here I am, hoarding what I can

I love what I do
And I love those who do it too
But that doesn’t matter when I can’t love me.