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Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Article #1: No Homos
Monday, June 15, 2009
Bloggy Style
I went to see Team Facelift play at Le Royale on Friday night. Look at Greg Naw's sister! She's so cute...
Judi Rosen met me there.
Jonny Famous was there.
James as well.
And the Arab Parrot. He's famous for his blog.
They fucking killed it.
After the show a bunch of us went to this special secret awesome club that I'm not gonna name because it's too fucking amazing.
The photos I have don't even do it justice because I was too busy bugging out. It was about 120 degrees, fog, glitter, an empty pool to dance in, gay disco house, and tons of good 'tudes. The whole night I felt like I was in 1977. Or 1987. Or whatever year New York was fun and creepy and Madonna danced at Danceteria and AIDS wasn't invented by the government yet.
Judi Rosen met me there.
Jonny Famous was there.
James as well.
And the Arab Parrot. He's famous for his blog.
They fucking killed it.
After the show a bunch of us went to this special secret awesome club that I'm not gonna name because it's too fucking amazing.
The photos I have don't even do it justice because I was too busy bugging out. It was about 120 degrees, fog, glitter, an empty pool to dance in, gay disco house, and tons of good 'tudes. The whole night I felt like I was in 1977. Or 1987. Or whatever year New York was fun and creepy and Madonna danced at Danceteria and AIDS wasn't invented by the government yet.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
How To Tell A Real Cry From A Fake Cry
A fake cry involves tears but no inner turmoil. The tears are so surface and even when you're crying you're thinking "that's it? I can't get a deeper cry?"
A real cry comes with heaving sobs from an ancient place deep down. A cry that feels like your releasing years of your life and everything you've ever cried about is suddenly happening all over again.
A fake cry is like you're trying to give yourself attention but then you realize you're also kind of hungry and you might want to take a shower. A fake cry is what you get when you're actually having an anxiety attack but those suck so hard so you try to convince your brain that what you're feeling is sadness and not anxiety.
A real cry makes you feel alone in the world, so alone that you start believing in God even if you know you already kind of believed in that sort of thing but you don't want to tell anyone.
A fake cry can also be a very short-lived real cry if it's an empathy-type of cry or a cry you get from a movie or a book.
A real cry doesn't make you want to die but it might make you super philosophical and have you questioning the reason for your existence and what not. A real cry will make you surrender the control you think you have over the universe. It also makes you sleepy. It also makes you feel better.
If it's hysterical, it's historical.
A real cry comes with heaving sobs from an ancient place deep down. A cry that feels like your releasing years of your life and everything you've ever cried about is suddenly happening all over again.
A fake cry is like you're trying to give yourself attention but then you realize you're also kind of hungry and you might want to take a shower. A fake cry is what you get when you're actually having an anxiety attack but those suck so hard so you try to convince your brain that what you're feeling is sadness and not anxiety.
A real cry makes you feel alone in the world, so alone that you start believing in God even if you know you already kind of believed in that sort of thing but you don't want to tell anyone.
A fake cry can also be a very short-lived real cry if it's an empathy-type of cry or a cry you get from a movie or a book.
A real cry doesn't make you want to die but it might make you super philosophical and have you questioning the reason for your existence and what not. A real cry will make you surrender the control you think you have over the universe. It also makes you sleepy. It also makes you feel better.
If it's hysterical, it's historical.
New Career
There are so many different things I want to do with my life.
I wanna wear squeaky shoes and bleach my roots and pierce my ears all the way up.
I wanna know my way around an institution.
Major in Chinese medicine and Toxicology.
Nervous systems, endocrine systems, Basic Amma massage techniques...yes please.
Click here.
I wanna wear squeaky shoes and bleach my roots and pierce my ears all the way up.
I wanna know my way around an institution.
Major in Chinese medicine and Toxicology.
Nervous systems, endocrine systems, Basic Amma massage techniques...yes please.
Click here.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
How Do You Make Up?
I got into a dumb-ass fight with my boyfriend last night and now I'm awake with a shame hangover. It's not that I feel stupid because he was right and I was wrong or vice versa, it's more like we fought. We yelled. We kicked some ass. Now what?
Now I have that weird feeling, like I'm a little kid and I just want things to go back to normal but I'm feeling all bashful and shit.
Just in case you think you're being the bigger man (or lady) by Xing someone or staying angry with someone, you're wrong. Forgiveness is the ultimate set of balls. It is the most humiliating act, something that our species really has issues around, and if you can suck it up and apologize with grace and dignity, then I'm officially putting you up on a pedestal.
I'm not talking about my situation here. Obviously we're gonna make up and it will be weird for a minute, probably even weirder because I'm writing this here thingy right now, but since I care about the greater good of the people rather than my own petty bullshit (you're welcome!), I'm taking a lil ol' leap here and risking my own relationship to ask one simple question: how do we forgive?
There's forgiving, there's being forgiven, there's forgetting. It's all in the same stir fry. Is it ever too soon to forgive? Yes. Too late? No, I don't think so. Unless the person has died. Even then, you can visit the grave and make a video like Madonna did with her dead mom. Not sure if that counts but you know what I mean.
I think a big problem is that I think that when I'm forgiving someone, it means I'm letting them off the hook. It means that they didn't do something wrong. I know I hold on to it because of my pride, and my self-entitlement. But really what I end up doing is carrying the weight of anger on me all throughout the day. It effects everything I do. I become almost obsessed with the anger, like it's a high for me.
Actually wait. I'm having an epiphany.
Do I love the anger?
I love the anger.
I do?
I don't know. I don't wanna be mad anymore. I actually don't feel mad.
This is too much information.
I'm spiraling now.
Now I have that weird feeling, like I'm a little kid and I just want things to go back to normal but I'm feeling all bashful and shit.
Just in case you think you're being the bigger man (or lady) by Xing someone or staying angry with someone, you're wrong. Forgiveness is the ultimate set of balls. It is the most humiliating act, something that our species really has issues around, and if you can suck it up and apologize with grace and dignity, then I'm officially putting you up on a pedestal.
I'm not talking about my situation here. Obviously we're gonna make up and it will be weird for a minute, probably even weirder because I'm writing this here thingy right now, but since I care about the greater good of the people rather than my own petty bullshit (you're welcome!), I'm taking a lil ol' leap here and risking my own relationship to ask one simple question: how do we forgive?
There's forgiving, there's being forgiven, there's forgetting. It's all in the same stir fry. Is it ever too soon to forgive? Yes. Too late? No, I don't think so. Unless the person has died. Even then, you can visit the grave and make a video like Madonna did with her dead mom. Not sure if that counts but you know what I mean.
I think a big problem is that I think that when I'm forgiving someone, it means I'm letting them off the hook. It means that they didn't do something wrong. I know I hold on to it because of my pride, and my self-entitlement. But really what I end up doing is carrying the weight of anger on me all throughout the day. It effects everything I do. I become almost obsessed with the anger, like it's a high for me.
Actually wait. I'm having an epiphany.
Do I love the anger?
I love the anger.
I do?
I don't know. I don't wanna be mad anymore. I actually don't feel mad.
This is too much information.
I'm spiraling now.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
My New Job
Platform has made me their US editor. That means get ready to laugh, love, and cherish every internet moment once again.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Accepting Applications For: A New Gay
I never been much of a fag hag. While I love a gay as much as the next straight girl, I don't have a potpourri of gay boy bff's that I go out clubbing with. I've always had one very close gay male friend with whom I run around conquering the world with. You know the type. We're thick as thieves and people get annoyed when they hang out with us because the private jokes just runneth way the fuck over.
Tim was my gay in college, but then he transferred, which was sort of a blessing because incidentally I started getting laid a lot more when he was gone. We're still bros but you know, he lives in Brooklyn. Brooklyn gays need not apply, as I already have one in that borough.
Rafael, Mel, and Jazzy Jared are also tight gays to me, but they currently belong to other straight girls, and I'm not trying to get them to cheat.
Ben was my gay but he don't talk to me no more.
Jonny Makeup would make a great gay, but he lives in LA.
Bill and Michael are sort of like my gays except for the fact that they're both straight.
I'm looking for a Jay McCarroll type. No one especially horny because I don't plan on looking for ass with my gay.
Interests should include: Quoting Heathers a lot, being well versed in musicals such as Rent and Grease 2, dancing to Madonna a lot, making up dance routines to Fame maybe, pranking people, acting very exclusive, dressing up weird and hitting the streets, making other people jealous because our friendship is so much fun and all we do is laugh, laying in bed and listening to sad songs together, thinking my boyfriend is hot and wanting to make out with him, coming to family dinners with me and stealing the show.
Perks include: having a car, living downtown, owning a shoe store or something like that.
Please send me your resume. References help too!
Tim was my gay in college, but then he transferred, which was sort of a blessing because incidentally I started getting laid a lot more when he was gone. We're still bros but you know, he lives in Brooklyn. Brooklyn gays need not apply, as I already have one in that borough.
Rafael, Mel, and Jazzy Jared are also tight gays to me, but they currently belong to other straight girls, and I'm not trying to get them to cheat.
Ben was my gay but he don't talk to me no more.
Jonny Makeup would make a great gay, but he lives in LA.
Bill and Michael are sort of like my gays except for the fact that they're both straight.
I'm looking for a Jay McCarroll type. No one especially horny because I don't plan on looking for ass with my gay.
Interests should include: Quoting Heathers a lot, being well versed in musicals such as Rent and Grease 2, dancing to Madonna a lot, making up dance routines to Fame maybe, pranking people, acting very exclusive, dressing up weird and hitting the streets, making other people jealous because our friendship is so much fun and all we do is laugh, laying in bed and listening to sad songs together, thinking my boyfriend is hot and wanting to make out with him, coming to family dinners with me and stealing the show.
Perks include: having a car, living downtown, owning a shoe store or something like that.
Please send me your resume. References help too!
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