In celebration of my singlehood, I've decided to share with you, gentle readers, some of my deepest Secret Single Behaviors. There was an episode of Sex and the City that talks about Secret Single Behaviors--those things that you do when you're alone, because you're single and you can get away with it.
Big hair means a big place to stick fancy things in. I am really into hair bling of all kinds. I even have a line of hair bling at Re/Dress, priced really low, the proceeds of which help feed my hair bling habits.
I think anyone can use hair bling. If you don't have a lot of hair, stick a clip on a headband and put it on your head. Poof! It's like a mini hat, only, you know, a bird.
Dapper Dandies can use hair bling to add a little flavor to their hats.
Laycation: A Laycation is a vacation or staycation (where you don't leave your town or home) with a lover where the intent or the result is that you do it the whole time. A vacation to get laid. Or a "we're so broke we can't do anything and we're long distance so we're just going to lay around and do it when she comes to town" sort of adventure. I love the idea of a Laycation, especially considering how in the queer community often our lovers need to be imported from other places to keep things fresh and ethical.
"Sorry to miss your party, my long distance romance Shawna is only in town for three days--we're going to be on laycation the whole time."
'm queer, and what I do with my cunt has EVERYTHING to do with what I do with my cash. I am my sexuality, and I am my politics. For me, I cannot and will not separate them. That would be lethal.
MY queer community is anti-racist, anti-sexist, anti-genderist, anti-heterosexist, anti-sizeist, anti-capitalist, anti-ableist, pro-immigrant, pro-healthcare, pro-worker, sex positive, against police brutality, the prison and miltary industrial complexes, and the list continues.
My queer community believes that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere," for real... It's not just a quote that would be found on an HRC t-shirt.
Half the reasons I've missed out on getting ass in my lifetime is by not articulating my desire. Insecurity, fear of rejection, fear of being made fun of... the list is endless. It's hard to put yourself out there in a racist, homophobic, misogynist, binary gendered, anti-erotic, fatphobic, ableist, etc... society when you're at one or many of those intersections of marginalized identities. Plainly stated, I've been a fat girl my whole life, shit from middle school runs deep and it's hard to bounce back from significant early rejection.
Out of that insecurity can come a bevy of reasons to psych yourself out of propositioning someone.
After that moment I incorporated "Nobody ever died of awkward" into my regular on stage repetoire.
This weekend is a really huge weekend for me. First up is Zombie Queer Cabaret! It's going to be full of hotties and I am a big matchmaker from the stage. Could your queer love boat involve a glittery smooch with some Zombie Femme Cupcakes prepared by Amanda, our Madam of Country Glam, and the rest of the Femme Family?
Then Sunday night I am competing in the Miss Lez pageant. I don't want to give anything away about my platform, but it's very me and very exciting. The performers I know who are contestants are also really phenomenal. It's going to be a fun show. Buy pre-sale tickets on sale now!
've had a hard time articulating a way in which I can turn my latest rage into productivity. In the absence of some flowery prose, I will tell you what is giving me the rage lately:
People who don't know how to break things off with someone properly and/or who cannot gracefully turn down a date.
First, I will give you a list of real life examples from my life and my friends lives in the last couple of months to illustrate why my rage is at a boil.
Thinking about my desires and what I dreamed about when I was in high school... a lot of it was pretty simple stuff. I wanted love. I hated myself so much I couldn't even recognize how much I hated myself. I wanted so desperately to fit in and feel comfortable with my body. I wanted access to all of the cheesy girl stuff like the cheerleading squad, dance team and running for homecoming queen. (Being perky, loud and wearing matching outfits? That is still my thing.)
I didn't feel like I was allowed access to even try out for any of those things, since I believed what everyone told me about my size--that I wasn't beautiful and had to rely on my personality and smarts.
I also really loved beauty pageants. I have always had a thing for them. I like watching people perform, I like sparkly outfits, I like good hair and ritual.
A Tiny is someone who is in their barely twenties.* Tinies can be great. They are someone you can be really tender with because of their stark vulnerability in contrast to your older jadedness. They can be really fun to corrupt. They can also help you not take things so seriously. Tinies sometimes have more active sex drives. They can make you feel really old when they don't understand your Jem and the Holograms references.