Category Archives: ReBlogs

My Friend Coffee

Neurodivergent Rebel

I love coffee, we’ve grown old together. Our relationship is a long one. I started drinking coffee at the age of twelve but my first taste was much earlier.

At my great grandmother’s house, I toddled around with a plastic cup of milk. From the kitchen, I heard a happy voice, “Coffee’s ready! Come and get it!” I moved with the adults into the kitchen, tiny yellow cup in hand, waiting to get my coffee.

When it was my turn the adults hesitated, but after my firm insistence, a few drops of coffee were poured into my milk cup. “She’s not going to like it” a voice from above me boomed. “I didn’t put enough in there for her to taste anything” another whispered.

The first voice was right. My face puckered as the milk hit my taste buds. Repulsed by the bitterness, I passed my tainted cup up into…

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Only connect

Counting the Ways

Recently Laina posted about her Jukebox App which is firmly installed in her brain. I, too, have a Jukebox App. Sadly, I have very little control over it. Something is playing most of the time, but not because I have requested it. It gets triggered by something I read, or something I hear. Sometimes the connection is obvious, like when a song is mentioned it will play that song, or when an artist is mentioned, it will play something by that artist. Sometimes the connection is extremely tangential. The song will probably play repeatedly, starting up again and again, even hours, sometimes days, after that first trigger. Annoyingly, the Jukebox will also play songs I don’t like, and I can’t stop it from doing so. More annoyingly, it mostly only plays snatches of songs, never one song all the way through. It plays all genres of music. Often it will…

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Two Well Known Advocates Change Careers, Well Sorta. – Pete Earley

I want to thank everyone, once again, for your kind words of support about my appointment  last week to a congressional advisory committee. Our first meeting will be next week and I will keep you informed of our progress. Meanwhile: (8-21-17) Mira Signer and Virgil Stucker, two highly-respected mental health advocates, have moved to newClick to continue…

Source: Two Well Known Advocates Change Careers, Well Sorta. – Pete Earley

Autism Rights and Responsibilities for Commercial Property Owners by Lucy Wyndham 

David Snape and Friends - The place to show off your hidden talents

Commercial properties ranging from shops and restaurants to places of work, such as offices, must comply with regulations set out in the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). However, lawsuits are rising against non-compliant buildings while other groups are often ignored. The major focus for compliance is with physical accessibility which ranges from visual impairment to wheelchair access. Few, however, have been changed for those with autism.
ADA, It’s Importance, and Areas of Coverage

The ADA was created in order to allow more people to access public and commercial buildings including restaurants, retail stores, hotels, movie theaters, private schools, doctor’s offices, zoos, homeless shelters, and so on. Enforced by the Department of Justice, the ADA means all buildings must have adequate accessibility and safety provisions for people with disabilities.
Meeting These Requirements

Commercial property owners who follow the rules have nothing to fear from the ADA. The aim is to eliminate…

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Babble [autistic poetry]

the silent wave

I wrote this one back on January 20, 1994, when I was 16 and not well.  There were interesting clues that emerged from the deep, toward the surface, even then.  (Spot the undiagnosed, depressed, 16-year-old autistic female.)  🙂

The sun was sad today…you know…how it beats down hard in mid-afternoon…this one–peachish color…
So sad…so normal…so heavenly.
One can dream then…an escape.
Ever do that?  Ever escape?
Yeah, it was never so fun for me.
Should’ve known back in ’79…’84…’92.
My brain shuts down; I lose my train of thought.  I babble.
People change;  I never did.  Yet I did that too fast once.
I learned that once…from one of the few friends I had.
Never got too close.  Couldn’t get hurt that way…especially here.
No one opens up; that’s fine with me.
We all make mistakes.  I feel like I was a mistake.
How could our creators have planned anything…

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4 words never to say to me

the silent wave

“Excuses are for losers.”

Unfortunately, those are my father’s favorite words. And he loves to toss them around, even when inapplicable and inappropriate.

Not to mention wrong.

The statement itself is true, for many people, in many situations. The problem is, for whom is it true, and in for which situations? Who can say that with 100% certainty, with legitimate authority? Who is qualified to delegate that authority, and who is qualified to assume it?

Thick questions.

When my father says this to me, is he implying that I’m a loser? (It sure sounds–and feels–like it.) What does that even mean? What constitutes a “loser” in his book?

Please define that one for me, dear dad, so that I can stay on the sunny side of your line.

A loser, to me, is someone who conducts themselves poorly. Such as being rude to someone or stealing from them or…

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Days off, days on

Aspie Under Your Radar

sunspot animationI just got my telescope figured out for the eclipse tomorrow. I’m in a location where we’ll have about 70% eclipse, so it’s not going to be as dramatic as in other places, but still…

Friends are coming over for the event. Actually, they’re coming home tonight after an event my partner is attending today, and they’ll be here tomorrow. I’m not happy about my routine being disrupted — it’s stressful in an already stressful point in my life — but  at least I like these two young people. They’re fun and invigorating and very open to life. I also don’t need to mask around them. I can just be me.

I’m hoping we can get a look at some sunspots. I got a telescope with a sun filter, so we can look close-up at the sun during the eclipse. I also got us some eclipse glasses from a reputable…

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When plans (fortunately) just don’t work out…

Aspie Under Your Radar

So, I had plans for this weekend. I have a project I’ve been wanting to finish for months, now, and I actually had 36 hours of solitude all to myself. This is rare.

Construction works in Funchal harbor

Silence. Solitude. Freedom to move around the house without concern for disrupting anyone’s sensitivities

Quelle Luxe! But yesterday I was tired. So tired. It’s hard to think creatively, let alone finish, when I’m tired. Everything fades

So, I let myself be. I did stuff. I let myself watch Galaxy Quest again. I watched some movies I normally don’t. ‘Cause… solitude.

Now it’s nearly 1 p.m. and I have less than 8 hours of solitude left, and I’m wondering what I should do… Errands? Food shop? Dunno…

I should probably do just a little on that project, just ’cause I promised myself. But days when I have free time, I realize just…

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Sticking to Small Talk

Eclectic Autistic

It’s often remarked by autistic people that we don’t “do” small talk. We’d rather not talk at all, or talk endlessly about one of our interests — there is no middle ground. We’re all different, of course, so this isn’t an absolute, but it does resonate with me. But I’ve been thinking about one way in which I sometimes prefer small talk, because it’s more comfortable than self-disclosure.

I don’t necessarily mean disclosure of my autism; I just mean any kind of revelation of who I am and what is important to me. Small talk isn’t my strong suit — I’d much prefer a deep, intense conversation about one of my passions — but it’s safer to stay on blander, neutral ground.

And that’s because all too often my excitement or intensity about a subject has put people off. I’ve learned how not to totally monopolize the conversation, so it’s…

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Darkness Dances On The Inside

An Aspergian's Chemical Romance


she comes

black eyes, green dress

laced with white silk, delicate destructor

of my pine heart

strong but everlasting in failure

to withstand her strikes

lightning quick hands envelop me

dance, she begs

dance with me

soon I am trapped in her wonder

tears flow from seemingly ancient face

yet young as a babe

each day

faster the music spins

the Earth seems to give up in a twirling fight

of lace and elation

at finally being loved

she clinged to me, not only her soul

but her body melting away

in my arms she relented

her past sins always forgiven

because I loved her

and always will

she gives me new breath

and ever so suddenly takes it away

she is a dangerous woman

I see it every day

viability is zero

but with her I know the way

because her spirit beats

deep inside me

beyond blood and…

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Would More Time Have Made Bruce Pardy’s National Post Piece Against Accommodations For Students With Disabilities Any Less Awful?


On August 17, 2017, a few weeks before thousands of university students will head off to class, the National Post ran an opinion piece by Queen’s University Professor of Law, Bruce Pardy under the headline “Mental disabilities shouldn’t be accommodated with extra time on exams.” 

Screen Shot 2017-08-20 at 11.41.19 AM Screenshot of Linked Article with headline noted above. Photo shows students writing exams in large room. One student has their arm raised to ask a question.

Both the content and the context of this badly argued plea for bad policy need to be examined.

Pardy’s National Post opinion piece, which was immediately ridiculed on *Twitter, was based on an article he published in an academic journal.

Screen Shot 2017-08-20 at 11.45.47 AM Head Starts and Extra Time: Academic Accommodation on Post-Secondary Exams and Assignments for Students with Cognitive and Mental Disabilities. Bruce Pardy

“My anecdotal experience is that many professors do not agree with providing extra time for cognitive and…

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Wholeheartedly Heart Broken

An Aspergian's Chemical Romance


light abandons
hope endlessly wavers
a sea of hands
envelopes twisting veins
arteries transport revenge
and regret
mystifies the soul
traveling into a shallow pool
serpents and servants
free to please
latch on like a leach
transmit disease
dissapear like black cats
on Halloween
and how did Eve
listen to the winds
crying descent
I am wholeheartedly
broken hearted
not only bent
and broken
never to love
with her rejection
continuously spoken

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