March 2012
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There would be no way for any of you to know this,...
ihopericksantorum:
I hope Rick Santorum pours cereal into a bowl only to realize he’s out of milk.
February 2012
81 posts
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Things That Are Mentioned In My Current Gender...
(offered without context/commentary)
tofu stir fry
Sleater-Kinney
Rachel Maddow
“big black sex cop”
vagina wars
patriarchy
Slumdog Millionaire
Franzia
nipple clamps
Margaret Atwood
FOREVER ALONE
(the art of being “forever alone”)
The Daily Show
Arya Stark
hot dogs
BabyBjorns
Reading Jezebel
Loving Jezebel
Hating Jezebel
fishnet tights
Planned...
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WITHOUT FLAW. THESE WOMEN ARE WITHOUT FLAW.
KRISTEN: Six beautiful -- some say handsome--women invited by the Academy not only to present three awards, but also to shatter the common belief that size does not matter. I hate to tell you guys this, but it kinda does.
MAYA: Yes, but not length. (Beat.) As my grandma used to say: it can be short and still make your toes curl. And I believe, in my heart, my grandma wasn't referring to wieners, but to short films.
KRISTEN: See, I'd rather have a short film with some heft that's nice to me rather than a long film that just lies there and makes you do all the work.
MAYA: Yeah, but sometimes a film can be too long.
KRISTEN: Not for me.
MAYA: What?
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My All Important Oscar Picks That Everyone's Been...
This is just a really important day for me, you guys. I’m trying to think of an appropriate comparison but weddings are so stupid and patriarchal and babies are annoying and needy and I really can’t believe anyone cares about sports as much as I care about the Oscars and and and I am so sorry, this award show is my Super Bowl Disneyland Bat Mitzvah Graduation Circumcision Cherry...
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I can tell you that tonight has been spent...
Tequila. Glorification of teen pregnancy. Tequila. Parkour. Tequila. Parkour.
YOU CAN”T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND HOW LONG IT JUST TOOK ME TO TYPE ALL OF THAT.
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I really do miss the sweet, simple era when I...
Which is all too tragic, really, because they’re usually fucking mint.
*A guy really did pee his pants in my 9th grade bio class and, dumped or not, I was, am, actually, always ready to talk about it.
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“On the night you finally tell him, take him out to dinner. Translate the entrees...”
– Lorrie Moore from her story “How” from the incredible, wonderful, spectacular, better-on-every-reread collection Self-Help. I was seventeen the first time I read these stories and, it seems, they are the sort that will render me seventeen once again, place me back within that moment,...
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This is an audio recording of an essay I’ve...
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Human Disaster (continued, continuing forever.)
Me: No, the problem is that he treats me like some character out of a romantic comedy who he needs to lead through the world by the hand to keep her out of trouble. And that's almost endearing for a second, but then it's like, okay, fuck off, Captain Mansplain. I can handle my own shit.
Me: Aggggghhhhhhhh! ---.5 seconds later as I trip on the side of a bus shelter (I cannot explain how this happened) falling to my knees, then stomach, tossing my open bottle of soda ten feet ahead of me, spilling it everywhere, dropping my phone so that the battery pops out, bruising my shin and skinning that pokey bone on the side of my ankle.
Me: SEE THAT! I GOT IT ALL TOGETHER!
Friend: Yes. Yes, definitely.
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Things I Have Done Recently, In Lieu of Doing...
Napped extensively and had a weird sexual dream about a former history teacher of mine. Upon waking up, I felt sort of strange about it, because I can’t recall every having any such feelings about this person, but that concern lasted only a few moments before I tried to fall asleep again and will myself back into the dream because, well, it was hot.
Briefly considered studying more...
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Notes for the memoir/biopic.
Please recall the time when you were twenty and your father came home at eight o’clock on a Sunday, having been out all afternoon, and drunkenly yelled at you for refusing to watch Casablanca with him.
Not to be confused with the time when you were sixteen and had gotten really stoned before washing down a pack of Mentos with a 2 liter of Diet Coke so that it took a great deal of effort on...
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I don't know for sure, but I'm starting to think...
Probably, that’s the highlight. Also my cat. And On Demand. And no drunk boys screaming outside of my bedroom door at 2am, although, really, I kind of like that. It’s mostly the pantless tampon hunting, really.
PS: I highly recommend that whenever possible, a massive sweatshirt that falls at your mid-thigh and makes you look fifty pounds heavier than you are, should be worn while...
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The Cult of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl
or, Do We All Have To Be So Goddamn Sparkly All Of The Time?
On a recent episode of the freshman Fox hit sitcom New Girl, a vaguely funny show (which, in full disclosure, I have watched exactly five episodes of, and all in the interest of, um, uh, Science. And of writing this piece.) about a weird, goofy, quirky, but hot-hot-hot (of course) girl who moves in with three dudes after a breakup, our...
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If you were ever curious as to how many times one...
However, if you were ever actually curious about this fact,
I mean, I don’t know.
I don’t want to make it a thing, but, like,
we probably need to have a talk.
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“When I think about the word “patriotism”, what I really just think...”
– My gender studies professor (the same professor I had last semester, because I’m a stalker (well, and a women, gender and sexuality studies minor), only now for Gender and Sexuality in South Asia) is extremely wonderful and adorable and fantastic, and I want to make out with her brain. Oh, and...
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Valentine's Day(s)
My Grandma Ellen died on Valentine’s Day, when I was only six weeks old. My middle name is Ellen, and my mother says we eat dessert the same way, small bites, slowly, holding them in our mouths with a dreamy look on our faces. Like we’re putting on a show. I don’t remember her. For the years after that, until he passed away too, my Grandpa Jack buried me in presents. My memories...